Alessandra Sanguinetti Cecilia. Buenos Aires, Argentina. 1995.
“Back in 1993 I lived on a third floor, in an old building, on a narrow street, in downtown Buenos Aires. My bedroom had a little balcony that faced straigh
(...) t onto another third floor balcony of the building across the street. Every day I’d see three young sisters hanging the washing out to dry on the railing, sweeping, playing, or throwing the keys down to someone waiting to get in. I started taking pictures of them when they came out, and we would wave at one another. The narrowness of the street between us made it seem like they were closer than they were. Eventually, I crossed the street and rang a few doorbells (there were ten third floor apartments). To everyone that replied I’d say I was the girl from in front that took pictures, until I rang the right bell and they let me in. This started a yearlong relationship with them and their Mom. We’d call each other from balcony to balcony and once in a while, we’d defy the gap and play ball over the traffic below.”
— Alessandra Sanguinetti © Alessandra Sanguinetti | Magnum Photos
