By rediscovering his native city, Guillaume Zuili gives us a poetic look at the tumult of Paris. A poetry which, if it refers to the Baudelaireian spleen, also borrows from the old-fashioned charm of novels and Polar movies. The Parisian street appears at times dark and disturbing with its drawn metal curtains and decrepit walls, at times noisy and roaring as passers-by gather in a shapeless mass on the sidewalks, looking for a bus, a store or a place on the terrace of a café. Since “enjoying the crowd is an art”, Guillaume Zuili excels at freezing this movement at human level, in tight frames that allow compositions where shadows and reflections barely let us guess the environment in which they evolve. If a few clues of location are scattered along this path, no place is left to the “postcard” city and we are then plunged into a territory with a changing geography and very personal to the photographer.