THE NORTH RIDING PROJECT

It is built on the side of a mountain that slips into the Mediterranean.  Its beauty is startling, its evolution over time clearly visible.  Beginnings at the western edge, intimate, mysterious neighborhoods, bathed in whitewash over many centuries, have lent the city its name of Alger la blanche.  This is the Casbah, moving from a lower level of timeworn mosques upward through winding stairways and passageways, famously recorded in the film, The Battle of Algiers.  At its base is Place des Martyrs, a vast open space above the sea long marred by an outrageous status of the Duke of Orleans on horseback; visible there throughout the colonial era, it was shipped back to France following independence.

Mokhtefi/Algiers

The loves we share with a city are often secret loves.  Old walled towns like Paris, Prague, and even Florence are closed in on themselves and hence limit the world that belongs to them.  But Algiers (together with certain other privileged places such as cities on the sea) opens to the sky  like a mouth or a wound.  In Algiers one loves the commonplace; the sea at the end of every street, a certain volume of sunlight, the beauty of the race.  And, as always, in that unashamed offering there is a secret fragrance.  In Paris is it possible to be homesick for space and a beating of wings.  Here, at least, man is gratified in every wish and, sure of his desires, can at least measure his possessions.

Camus/Algiers