English Version | Portfolio: (Very) Rear window

They could be just little blocks of light that cover the city at nighttime, but they are a straight pathway to getting to know the lives of those around us - and if there is someone who knows how to capture them, that is Gail Albert Halaban.

© Gail Albert Halaban
© Gail Albert Halaban

As soon as the sun sets and darkness falls upon the city, windows light up. They are thousands and thousands of little dots of light spread throughout city buildings. From top to bottom, these small signs of a presence multiply. These are bedrooms, living rooms and kitchens where life goes on beyond the streets. And, inside each of them, there is a world. Actually, we each have our own world, confined within four walls which give us the feeling that there is nothing else beyond them. In the city loneliness, Gail Albert Halaban found other lives not so different from her own and, thanks to all the windows, she shortened the distance to the other side. It all started around 16 years ago, “when my daughter had her first birthday”, the photographer tells Vogue. “Our neighbours, who saw us from across the street, sent us balloons and flowers with a card wishing her a happy birthday. We had never met them, but they saw we were having a party and sent the note.” And so the project Out My Window was born, which has been capturing neighbourhood windows all around the world, in an attempt to represent urban lives - independent and detached - and connect them. Even though, for those who see only the final product, it may seem like quite a voyeuristic perspective, Halaban’s process ends up requiring the participation of both parties (which will, inevitably, come closer): “Before I photograph, I leave notes and meet the neighbours. No one is caught off guard and everyone is an active participant.” In the end, and no matter how genuine they may look, “the photos are staged”, the set is lit and, throughout the whole process, the photographer is “talking to people”.

It is only natural that, in the lonely city, which seems even emptier at night, our eyes rush to meet light, where we know there is life. To Halaban, “nothing is more captivating than a lit window at nighttime” and inside each of them we can find a different world. When we try to understand what Halaban looks for in a window, what makes it worthy to be photographed, she confesses she doesn’t quite know. “That’s a tough question. I don’t look for anything specific, I just like to discover the lives of those who live in them.” In reality, and just like any of us whose eyes wander through the city lights, the photographer says she never knows what she’ll find. More than an effort to break the barriers between those we are so close to, Out My Window may even change the way we live the cosmopolitan detachment: “You will never feel lonely if you're always looking at your neighbours. The city will never be lonely if you embrace this way of looking.” After having gone through so many places, Halaban is “dying to do this in Japan.” Until then, she’s dependent on the help and participation of those who, all around the world, capture neighbourhood windows and tell their stories, broadening the project’s initial narrative. When it comes to celebrations, the photographer has been capturing anything you can imagine, even though she does it randomly: “I recently captured a party in Paris, Christmas in New York and last night my daughter and her friends set up decorations for Valentine’s Day and I captured the scene in film.” And, just as there are endless reasons to justify a celebration, Halaban sees yet no reason to announce the end of Out My Window: “I don’t imagine this project coming to an end. Each window had a new story to tell.”

Translated from the original on Vogue Portugal's Celebrate Yourself issue, published February 2022.Full story and credits on the print issue.