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New York, just after dusk. The light here is cool and electric, neon signs bleeding soft pinks and blues onto wet sidewalks while the brick facades of older buildings absorb whatever daylight remains. Ludwig Favre works in the narrow alleys behind the main thoroughfare, where utility trucks steam faintly against construction barriers and turquoise storefronts glow with murals that seem to shift under overcast skies. The figures,lone pedestrians, a man pushing a cart,are caught at the angle of the city’s own gaze, framed by the vertical lines of mid-rise buildings and the horizontal glow of illuminated signs.









