Photography fascinates, because it proves to us optically, chemically, that what we see exists, at least existed at the precise moment of which the image is the trace. Of course, the art of the photographer is to play on this constraint: we can stage the moment, work on series of times which break it down and so on. There are so many images that prevent us from returning to the reality they suppose: Géraldine Lay calls these flaws.