“Drop your hands to your sides; they are heavy weights now at the ends of your arms […] reach out and grasp this photograph — small indistinct city street damp black pavement — mounds of earth to the left, poles, long low building, high bright spot from arc-lamp on its standard etc. in the low flat landscape. The muscles in your arms are rigid, the glossy photo surface crinkles in the clutching fingers of your hand your hand the knuckles now gone white. … (It’s the location of the camera which most often determines the character of the particular space — physically you are transferred right there.) As you clutch the photograph the image — a particular space — street curbstones, neat lawns etc., slips, vibrates, collapses under the pressure of your desires. All other photographs clatter on the floor. Now you are left with a single valued section — a single construction — and does it admit others? This condition of attachment will never admit of the ‘theory of sequences’.

David Campany — Jeff Wall: Picture for Women