How these men are made

Every image here is generated. That is worth saying plainly, because the phrase covers two very different practices. One is typing a sentence and keeping whatever comes back. The other is closer to a photo shoot: you decide the man, the room, the light and the moment, then you work until the picture matches what you had in mind. This catalogue does the second.

A season starts with a man, not with a scene. His face, his build, the way he carries himself are fixed first and kept across every plate — which is why the same man can come back three chapters later and still be recognisably himself. Then comes the place, then the sequence: forty or fifty plates that follow one afternoon, one shift, one night, in the order you will read them.

What the machine does not decide: which plates survive, in what order they go, where the season stops, and how far it goes. Each one exists in three registers, which means each scene is composed three times rather than filtered once. The tooling is ours, the men are invented, and nobody real is depicted.