Late one afternoon during a walk through the vastness of the Auschwitz-Birkenau camp, I had glimpsed through rows of barracks, as if for the first time, a long succession of single holes - endless rows of latrines. They resonated with the incessant echo of the wind rushing through their openings, and I photographed dozens of them in the vision of the moment.

Now decrepit structures, they retain all the mystery of the painful abandonment of bodies forced to empty on command

in successive waves. Their dark cavities, sites of a need transformed into a degrading collective spectacle, embody not only unfathomable evil - Auschwitz having been qualified of anus mundi - but also stand as an ultimate frontier. Like planets or cosmic black holes that condense tremendous energy, latrines are lenses open on absolute evil: the reduction of millions of beings to humiliation without redemption, the loss of all reference points, nothingness.

These Black Holes echo certain energetic figures of plants that

I record in electromagnetic fields, and where entire areas deprived of light go entirely black, saturated with dark  impenetrable forces.