by+Yann+Layma

When China suddenly opened its borders to the world in 1979 by granting the first individual travel visas， I experienced somewhat of an epiphany – a revelation about a future vacation， the manifest destiny to open myself to the outside， over there， and to immerse myself willingly， body and soul， in the immensity of that great center of human culture， that quarter of humanity. At sixteen， I resolved to live differently and dedicate my life to the naive attempt to gain the ability to eventually draw a portrait of the Giant. As a carefree teenager， my resources were limited to strong ambition to attain an improbable goal， my youth， my emotion， and especially my ignorance. The challenges I faced were loneliness， fear， and difficulties created by a world that was then so closed， making everything outside of it unknown to me.

Twenty-five years later I have nothing but good memories and few regrets. I could never have imagined that this youthful decision would take me so far， beyond my own life， after so many trips to the four corners of the“Middle Empire，” discovering in the end the love of another culture， and merging slowly with the landscape in a sort of hybridization. I have always avidly devoured books filled with color images in order to learn without analysis. I have relied upon my own experience， often too sensitive to the ups and downs of life， hesitant， fragile， keeping distance from reports written by Westerners and Chinese， so that the impressions I found on the spot could live freely， fill me with wonder， teach me language and other ways of thinking， and share the fascinating fermentation of the tremendous changes in contemporary China， far from news and fashion imagery. I have placed my trust in time， work， and travel， hoping to see over and over again， to discover even more while pressing my cameras shutter as often as possible.

Over the years I have learned to love China for billion and a half good reasons. I have learned to love observing and admiring this great culture， which is more alive now than ever. I have never felt threatened there， neither in my person nor in my possessions. I caught no diseases there. The road has been good， and its rewards many. I am often thrilled to discover that goodnatured ambience – so characteristic， welcoming， smiling and cheerful – is always ready to share the good feeling of mutual discovery of respect for other cultures. My passion for the discovery within this Chinese world has remained intact. It has profoundly transformed me， moving my heart deeply， revealing within me many unsuspected horizons that another name emerged： Yan Lei， “Thunderbolts of the Warrior of the Gates of Hell.”

I have learned that if photography is considered “to write with light” in the West， in China it means “to capture the shadows， or make the flash of light appear and seek resemblance.” I have likely spoiled hundreds of thousands of photographs in favor of gathering， with my close friends， these structured moments， which reveal the best pieces of this marvelous journey of initiation， this dream of youth， this visual quest in a country where so often truth and beauty are fused tenderly together. This selection of images today brings me a great pleasure， that I can offer you the fruit of my passion， a portrait of the eternal Dragon， a profound emotion that continues to guide my dreams. I have returned to wish you a pleasant journey.