It seems rare to witness genuine human connection in public spaces anymore. People may be physically present, but their minds are elsewhere, lost in the virtual worlds of their devices. This disconnect leads me to question: where has the perception of one another gone? Have we forgotten how to silently observe and be present with those around us, without the need for words or constant stimulation? Have we, in our fast-paced, hyperconnected world, lost the ability to truly connect, even on a silent, emotional level?

These questions linger in my mind, particularly as I continue to pursue street photography, an art form that is inherently rooted in observation. As a photographer, I find myself more and more intrigued by the people I see on the streets — not just as subjects of my camera but as fleeting participants in a shared urban landscape. The way people move, the expressions on their faces, the way they interact (or fail to) with their surroundings — all of these subtle cues tell stories that often go unnoticed.

I realize that I am part of this same world that I critique, a world where technology reigns supreme and distractions abound. I know that I cannot change the trajectory of society, nor do I claim to have all the answers. However, I see it as an opportunity — an invitation, really — to be more mindful and aware of the people and moments that pass me by. Instead of lamenting what has been lost, I strive to capture what still remains: the fleeting emotions, the transient moments, the subtle interactions that still occur, if only for a split second.

My name is Stefan Czurda, and I am an abstract street photographer from Vienna, Austria. In my work, I explore the urban environment through the lens of motion blur, creating atmospheric street portraits that I call “Urban Ghosts.” These portraits are meant to evoke a sense of ethereality, as if the subjects are caught between two worlds — the physical and the emotional, the present and the past.

For my latest project, I have chosen melancholy as my emotional leitmotif. I believe that melancholy is an emotion rich in complexity, one that is deeply expressive and well-suited to my style of photography. To further emphasize this emotional state, I have opted for black-and-white photography, which strips away the distractions of color and allows the viewer to focus more intently on the mood and atmosphere of the image.

The result is “Street Melancholy,” a series of abstract street portraits that attempt to capture the elusive, fleeting nature of emotion. These are not simply sad moments frozen in time; rather, they are emotional vignettes that reflect the transitory nature of human experience. In a world that moves faster than ever, where moments slip through our fingers before we can fully appreciate them, I wanted to create images that lingered — if only for a moment longer — on the emotions that often go unnoticed.

One of the central themes of “Street Melancholy” is the idea of transience. Emotions, like moments, are fleeting by nature. The feeling that grips us one second may be replaced by another in the next. The sadness we feel in a given moment is often followed by laughter, joy, or even relief. And yet, in today’s world, these moments of emotional vulnerability or intensity are often overlooked, hidden behind screens or lost in the rush of our daily lives.

Through my photography, I aim to bring these moments to the forefront. By emphasizing their transience, I hope to underscore the importance of being present, of paying attention to the people and emotions around us — even if only for a brief second. The beauty of melancholy, in my view, lies not in its sadness but in its ephemerality. It serves as a reminder that life is a series of fleeting moments, each one deserving of attention, even if it quickly gives way to the next.

In this way, “Street Melancholy” is not just about melancholy itself, but about all the emotions that we, as humans, experience but often fail to notice. It is a project about observation, presence, and awareness. As I continue to walk the streets of Vienna, camera in hand, I am reminded that every face I see, every interaction I witness, holds within it a moment worth capturing — a moment that, in its transience, is uniquely and profoundly human. [Official Website]