JACKY IS HAUPT
A PHOTOGRAP HER

Her discretion is lit by a smile, at first, nearly always. Even when sad, there is a smile in her sensitive eyes. She has a soul trusting in human nature. Gentle, she who has encountered the children of the Peruvian countryside or the pilgrims on the ghats of Bènares, the Holy city, now again Varanasi. She loves lives. She whose life is colorful, vibrant with colors, in these blacks and whites of hers.

You will come across her, most likely in cities, and she will do nothing to attract your attention. Tthis is not her style.
Her personal style is contacts, encounters. Through a focal or a lens, sometimes. So stop for a minute when you meet her again. A minute at least. You will perceive how her modesty can be rich and dignified. The result can be a photo, maybe. At her place or elsewhere. Snapshots outside, on a bench. I n an instant not stolen but captured.
Delicately. For she has the daintiness, the light touch of a butterfly, spidery gentleness.

She is luminous but she blends into the night and moves with it so well, Geneva nights or nights faraway. She is not afraid of the dark, our Jacky. She plays with shades and in shadows, detecting their faintest luminescence and luminosity.

She can mix with all social groups. She walks through at her own fluid pace. Always attentive, open, comfortable in all worlds, however dubious they may appear to some. She experiences and absorbs the uncertainties and the shades, that she can love, transmit and share through her photography, her pictures. Meticulous, subtle, unique like the human beings whom she lightly touches with her thought.

Raymond Zoller