A young man wanders through New York City, a strange, globalized city, taking photos with his mobile phone (is this where the story begins?). But it is not something extraordinarily strange. His photos represent, like the phone, a dialogue.

It is a call and a response, an attempt to uncover the authenticity of what he sees, to highlight the paradox, to capture the folding of the day into night, and then to discover what may have slipped away. If the city becomes an image, he can pocket it - its vastness becomes within his grasp.

It is said that at this very moment there are 60 million photos just on Facebook, ten for every person on the planet. The map is now larger than the area it describes, and yet infinitely more deficient.

Despite the new technological capabilities he utilizes, these 54 photos by Camilo Nolla resonate with an older way of approaching visual experience, as well as an older way of assigning meaning. The reader-viewer (you who are reading this line) is encouraged to reflect, respond, reject, substitute.

As he examines each image and imagines its content, the broader world outside its frame, experiences that have become distinct, the reader connects as an active partner in the search for meaning. The photographer's experience, referencing a small square frame, simultaneously says less and more than what it shows.

Nolla's dialectic with New York is now available to many, belonging to and transforming through the community that gathers around the end of the sentence: "I will see the moon rise." (Fred Ritchin, Bronx, New York, March 2011)