In A Perpetual Season, Grégoire Pujade-Lauraine constructs a dream-like city from fragments that seem familiar but refuse ordinary recognition. Published by MACK in 2014, the book follows a photographic trail through spaces marked by recurring concrete forms, discarded buildings, decaying natural arrangements and enigmatic interiors. Human figures appear as bewildered or suspended presences: caught in precarious gestures, interrupted conversations and scenes whose logic remains just beyond reach.

The book’s naturalistic photographic manner is deliberately unstable. Rather than simply recording an existing world, it uses the appearance of observation to build a self-contained pictorial space—an inverted Arcadia illuminated by the hopes and visions of a bygone era. A reversed staircase, an unreachable doorway or a corridor that seems to repeat itself becomes more than an isolated motif. Through recurrence and variation, these elements establish formal and thematic links across the sequence, drawing order through what initially resembles chaos.

That structure gives A Perpetual Season its particular tension. The photographs are not arranged as a conventional account of a place, but as a chain of unsettling encounters in which architecture, landscape and human behaviour seem to echo one another. The title suggests a world caught in repetition: an ever-returning section of a larger cycle, where light and space preserve traces of an ominous, largely unspoken presence.

For collectors, the book merits attention as a focused second publication by a photographer whose practice turns documentary familiarity into psychological and pictorial ambiguity. Its importance lies not in spectacle, but in the discipline of its correspondences: the way isolated images gather force through sequence, doubling and reincarnation. Issued as a printed linen hardback by MACK, it presents Pujade-Lauraine’s sustained investigation of how a photographic world can look recognisable while quietly undoing the terms of recognition.