Some ideas appear so straightforward that we simply take them for granted and rarely, if ever, question them. The existence of - and difference between - here and there, and the related terms of now and then, are just a few of those concepts that most of us likely never think about in depth.

You're sitting at your desk on a rainy Tuesday morning when all of a sudden everything goes black. The voice of your roommate just starting to ask you if you want a cup of coffee starts to fade away as you're sucked into a dark void. A numbness starts to creep up your legs, starting at your toes and slowly making its way upwards. As it approaches your torso you think "this is it, it's really happening". A burst of memories shoot into your head as you reflect on the life you've had; "It's been nice," you think to yourself, "I've had a good life, I'm content with the things I’ve done and who I was as a person."

Ron Barten’s photographs are part of his personal research for the Interiors Building Cities graduation studio at TU Delft.  They portray the streetscape of Rotterdam with a careful eye, looking at how the city indirectly converses with its citizens, either through text, signs, graffiti, labels, and symbols. Such a diversity of languages often occurs in the space of two metres, on the buildings’ plinth. Here, the formal language of the landlord intersects with the informal response of who dwells in the city. A discussion that changes over time; a confrontation, questioning to whom the street really belongs.