Observing her as she observes, 1990

F. Scott Fitzgerald, the most outstanding novelist of the so-called “Lost Generation”, said that “Nothing is more conducive to the development of observation than compulsory silence.”

Although by nature less than taciturn, Lou Peralta tends to observe the world, particularly people, from an eloquent, serene silence.

At times I’ve found myself watching her, in other words, observing her as she observes. What I’ve realized is that by adopting a kind of mental distance, Lou Peralta becomes an unflinching witness to what happens around her.

Her full dominion of the photographic art permits her to move beyond technique and address the formal nuances, concentrate on the subtleties of the curious human reality.

It was Fitzgerald’s characters, portrayed either with fine irony or with a restrained sense of affectionate understanding, that made their creator the most important voice in 1920s fiction.

Something tells us that the portraits that Lou Peralta is showing today are the prelude to an extensive series, and if this is the case, considering the mastery she has demonstrated so far, she may become --among other things-- an essential commentator on the time in which we live.

Claudio Isaac, text from the introduction of this exhibit (March 1990)