Alain Breyer


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The mill! Bondeno

Alain Breyer, however, was never a child silo. (1)
His favorite subjects are neither broad jokes or pictures scabrous.
It has not its inputs at the Moulin Rouge (2) or any other place of perdition.
Although, a few years ago, picked by neon blue and pink bars of love, he allowed himself to drift to the game-night fun to photograph - of course.
Since, under the lens, the only parts of legs in the air (3) that he likes are those of cyclists earned the devotion of the "little queen". (4)
The roads of the Tour of Italy could they guide him around the Po?
Here, no milling alluring. The miller does not sleep and train the mice to move!
The photographer's eye to linger and flour to dust, wood tired and dry belts, eyes burning with sweat and vertiginous stairs.
It was a winter's day, Christmas Eve.
The sky crushed ice to make snow and wind blowing this magical rooftop awnings. The crackling and hissing wheels and transmissions said the flow of grain epiphany already feeling good the good sort of a cake which would be the King Alain.

Photographs taken on Nikon D300