The Instagram profile of Constance Briand, @konstaanz, is built by subtraction. No full faces, no closed scenes; only fragments, a hand, a back, a silhouette crossing a shop window, deliberately left incomplete.

There’s a photograph in which a figure seen from behind watches two birds in flight against a grainy blue sky, her wind-blown hair cut out of the clean profile. Here too the face is invisible, because it doesn’t need to be seen. Everything is in the posture, in that minimal gesture of looking up.

In another image, shot in black and white, a figure in motion runs across the frame while in the background, still and in focus, someone sits waiting inside a neon-lit laundromat. The contrast between the one running and the one waiting, between blurred and sharp, tells the whole story: nothing else is needed.

In Constance Briand’s work — she describes herself as a film director, writer and photographer — photography seems to function like a film camera. There are tight framings, exposure times that follow movement instead of freezing it, a film-like grain that trades sharpness for atmosphere. These are images that tell a scene without showing it in full, leaving the viewer to complete it.