Eclipse

Laying behind, a fallen foe rests, the silhouette of a familiar man, seen often, but little known about. On brighter days, he appears in the forefront - centre stage in the sunny matinee - his aura like his outline: opaque. He moves faster than most, slipping away like the turn of a page, one moment below, the next behind. Lurking like the stench of a bad smell, his presence is often unsought; a souvenir of the darkest times, a present plucked straight from the past.

Looped laces loosen while buckled boots battle the dew-drizzled earth, as models Ahmed and Zheng charge through the drunken twilight, evading the clutch of the man displaced, without any eyes, without a face. In spite of turns and twists, the man persists, beckoning the boys to a boundless race. Exhausted, the boys withdraw; their chilled, chiselled cheeks chattering while their statures wilt and their heads bow. Armed with aperture and shooting in shutter speed, photographer Alana Celii captures the boys as they rebuke their disgrace, learning to embrace the lessons of their shadows’ chase.

In an ode to the old and a cheer to the new, stylist Marcus Elliott emboldens the boys in black blazers and juxtaposing jackets, excavating the tune of times past, immersing them in the art of times ahead. Now in the dawn of their eclipse, their familiar grips; a reminder that nearby, a brighter world resides.