Friday, 19 January 2018
Mère et Fils (Mother and Son) by Anne de Gelas is the follow up to her wonderful, but tragic L'Amoureuse. It tells the story of how Anne reconfigured her relationship with her son, and with herself, her lovers and her own body, after the death of her husband (the immediate aftermath of her grief is the subject of L'Amoureuse which you can read about here).
The advantage of video reviews is they will be reasonably quick and I will learn some basic editing by doing it again and again.
The disadvantage is you can't say as much as you can when you write. At some point in this review I talk in brief about the authenticity of de Gelas's pictures, but also the flaws of her pictures. They are staged, they are a theatre, but somehow that makes them even the more real. The authenticity comes from the drive and intensity of the emotional narrative that she delivers through her pictures, her writing (half of which I don't understand - but it doesn't matter) and her drawings. The authenticity comes from the fact that she has a story to tell, a story she cares about, that is rooted in her mind, her soul, her body and her son. Too often, stories that are based upon staged images have no heart because they are coming from places where the story doesn't really matter, in narratives that don't really have a soul. They sometimes pretend to have a head, and move the focus to the cognitive but really they are empty vessels. . It's a complex story but she tells it beautifully. Mère et Fils isnt' like that. It's a story that matters!
Buy Mère et Fils here.
Wednesday, 10 January 2018
Every year we do a jigsaw in our house so we get to see lots of pieces of jigsaw on the table for a few weeks. This year the jigsaw is of Knavesborough, a picturesque town with rows of houses (easy), a bridge (easy), sky (horrible but not too big), river (very difficult) and trees (impossible).
Scattered in the jigsaw we also get to see people. And it got me to wondering who these people are. They are incredibly anonymous people. It also got me thinking that maybe jigsaws are the retro equivalent of Google Street View/Satellite imaging. On a far more limited scale and with jigsaw shaped pieces and frames instead of pixels and stitching software.
On Google Street View, you get a few odds and ends of people scattered in the cracks of its imagery and people make images of them, make books of them, or at least they used to when that was a bit more of a thing and was interesting for a time. You even get people who say hey look, there's me on Google Street View. There's a visibility to it.
But jigsaws, not really. I have never met anybody who has said they have been in a jigsaw, not that I've asked anybody. It would be a bit odd reallly going up to somebody and randomly asking them, "hey, have you ever been in a jigsaw?" Just as it would be a bit odd to go up to somebody and randomly say, "You know the Lyme Regis 1,000 piecer by Steefenback Jigsaws. Well, I'm in that. I'm the woman standing by the fishing nets."
In fact, it would take a huge amount of coincidence to even recognise yourself in a jigsaw. You'd have to be making it, and then recognise yourself. And how do you recognise yourself in a jigsaw when the figures are generic and lacking in distinguishing features due to scale and distance. If you wanted to brag about being in a jigsaw, then you'd really need to be at somebody's house when they were making the one you were in and then you could say, "hey look at this piece. That's me." Then I wonder if you would memorise all the pieces around you and be able to get a jump on the puzzling.
So now that the GSV theme has run its course (for the time being), perhaps there should be a return to jigsaws, which are the analogue equivalent of the GSV/Satellite crossover. Perhaps there's a project in that, perhaps somebody is already working on it. Pictures of people in jigsaws, the idealised world of jigsaws. The trouble is GSV provides relatively high rewards for the relatively minimal time invested. Jigsaws are a fucking nightmare. They take an age and the rewards are minimal - you get a couple walking under a bridge and that's about it. And they take up so much space.
Which is why you'll never get jigsaw cafes, or jigsaw photobook projects. The visual rewards are pitiful and the time investment is simply too great. Because when I think about the length of time we have been working on our jigsaw of Knavesborough, I come to the shocking conclusion that this picture is the image that I have looked at most since the jigsaw we did last year. In fact the images I have studied most in my life are ones that appear on jigsaws. And I've looked at these pictures in fragmented but sophisticated ways that (as well as taking in things like edges and jigsaw shapes) includes content, tone, colour, pose, hue, shape, edges, feathering and much more besides.
Sometimes we talk about new kinds of seeing and the importance of getting people to look. Perhaps we should consider that there are all sorts of ways of seeing that are very mainstream and we use them all the time, or once a year for me in the case of jigsaws. I might not look at jigsaws in the same way as I look at a photobook for example, but I still look at it. And that goes for a hundred different ways of looking, seeing, spotting, observing and noticing, all of which have their own science and research base, a research base that in some ways is far more rigorous than what we have in our corner of photography. In other words this corner of photography is the way of seeing that is on the margins and we should learn from the real world.
But at the same time it's less rigorous in terms of poetry, or vision or heart and soul. And that ultimately is what matters. So even though I looked at that jigsaw puzzle for hours upon end, it was all a quite distant kind of looking and seeing. There was no soul in the picture the jigsaw was based upon, there was no soul in the jigsaw itself. There was no soul in the making of the jigsaw. And soul is the goal. It's what machines, data and algorithms don't have.
Monday, 8 January 2018
The latest book review to go up on my nascent youtube channel is Isabel reviewing All Quiet on the Home Front, or going through the pictures she likes - which is always interesting - as well as her interpretation of this fantastic father's day card.
Wednesday, 3 January 2018
I'm kicking off the year with my first book review, For Brigitte by Titus Simoens, published by APE.
This super-smart book is a reinvention of the family album, with Simoens taking on the role of editor and reinventor in making a kind of dedication to Brigitte through her mass of family pictures, though actually the sequencing and cropping of the pictures is kind of random, determined by Indesign and file names - which makes it not random at all in other ways.
It's a lovely book that I've warmed to and keep returning to. But in the spirit of time management and learning something new, I'm putting them on my Youtube, er, Channel? And there is very obviously more learning to be done!
Buy the book here.
Read more about For Brigitte in this lovely piece by Stefan Vanthuyne.
Thursday, 14 December 2017
It's the tenth anniversary of my blog today, so to commemorate the occasion, here are some of my favourite posts from the last ten years.
Most viewed post: Dogs playing poker. Which says it all really.
Best video/best goal/best day: Oh this is simply wonderful by Mishka Henner. It is his tribute to his father on the day Manchester City won the Premier League in the final minutes of the season. Sadly, Henner's father died earlier this year so it serves as a kind of memorial which makes it both sad and beautiful.
Best Post: This interview with Sohrab Hura was fascinating in its own right, but inadvertently led to an outporing of hatred connected to sexual harrassment of one low-rent nobody in particular. Nice.
Best Post where Photography cuts through lies and empty rhetoric: This one on the horrific pictures of the Hillsborough Disaster.
Best Post on Photographic Taste: I'm a terrible snob in photography. Snobbery is everywhere in photography. This post will help you navigate through the taste culture of photography and explain why people pretend to like stuff when obviously they don't. It doesn't explain when people don't understand their avowed preferences and how those connect to the overall hierarchies of taste. But that's a different matter.
Best Post on Tory Cumfaces: Why did this ever stop?
Best Post I could repeat every day: It's this one to do with the drek of photographic musak. That's a good title too.
Best Blog Post Title: I don't know if it is the best title but it's to do with Trump and it's certainly the truest. It also gives me the opportunity to show him burning in the fire down below. Small is not always beautiful.
Best Movie: Om Shanti Om. It's obviously not the best movie I have seen in the last 10 years, but it was a gateway drug for my wife. After seeing this she went on a three year Hindi Cinema binge, of which I partook gladly.
Best Documentaries: Let's have the Act of Killing for going in directly for something incredibly difficult and dangerous while ticking off all the Modes of Documentary. It's still brilliant and chilling however many times I watch it. And OJ: Made in America for its use of photography and its functions.
Best Crime Post: This was where the daughter of the man who took the Myra Hindley mugshot told the story of the picture.
But Photography, Amanda Knox and the Seven Deadly Narratives of Women Criminals was also good.
image by Timothy Archibald
Best Projects: Tony Fouhse's Live Through This and Timothy Archibald's Echolilia have always stuck with me in a very big way.
Best Exhibition: I have not had as much fun at any exhibition as I did at Banksy's Dismaland. For a few weeks it transformed Weston-Super-Mare, it gave hope to Weston-Super-Mare. The visitors were a huge mix of everyone and it was piss-your-pants funny thanks to an incredible crew of deadpan fairground helps. Just brilliant.
Best Interview: There could be so many more but I'm going to go for Stacy Kranitz for the reasons stated here.
Best Sequence is not Narrative Post: Well it's not is it. This is the post.
Best Reviews: Lewis Bush's Haiku Critic. I hope he starts it up again. Bush shows that 15 syllables can do the job. This is him on Wolfgang Tillmans' Tate Modern Show this year.
It all means something,
Then it also means nothing.
Best Post that Exemplifies the Stupidity of How we Read Images: This one on a couple of pictures from Beirut and 911. And this is how we all read images most of the time. I've seen it in myself and I've seen it directly with others.
Best Projects that address that stupidity: Zun Lee's Father Figure and Joshua Rashaad McFadden's Come to Selfhood address the representation of the black male by showing something just a little bit different to the barage of imbalanced images that bombard us from all sides.
Best Fucked-Up Pictures: My Broken Camera Pictures of course. The link is to another list but it's a good one and there are some Broken Camera Pictures in there somewhere.
Best books: These books by Charlotte Delbo and Primo Levi. If you haven't read these books, you should.
Best Talk: For the reasons mentioned in this post, it has to be Lina Hashim in conversation with Amak Mahmoodian. There were only 18 people there on a cold and rainy wintry night, but sometimes number don't matter and sheer class and the real deal shows.
Best Polaroids: Juliana Beasley's Lapdancer Polaroids. These should have a wall to themself somewhere. Or a book at least please.
Best Putting Your Money Where Your Mouth Is Photographic Protest: Jill Greenberg and her take on John ("I called my wife a cunt in front of reporters") McCain.
Best Stupid Collage: Four Icons in One Image. I'm half-convincing myself that this is a work of genius. But it's not. Even. Close. But then nor is most photography-collage. Or writing on prints. Which makes this good. It's a work of genius. That was easy.
from L'Amoureuse by Anne de Gelas
Best photobooks: Ivars Gravlejs, Amak Mahmoodian, Anne de Gelas, Ignacio Navas and Vincent Ferrane are the authors. You'll find the books here.
Best Photobook Festival: Gazebook. It's by the beach, it's in Sicily, it's in the Open Air. It's fabulous. The open air is a clue to why it's so good. That and the fact that you're not stuck in your chair listening to talking heads all the time. In fact you don't have to listen. So there's that. And there's the town. And the food. And the drink. And the beach. It's a pleasure.
image by Lewis Bush
Best Campaign for a Photobook Festival: This one for the first Gazebook, Gazebook 2015. That was good.
Best Photobook Festival Song; The one that Mik Artistik sang at Photobook Bristol 2015. Brilliant. Oh, and the best dancers. They're in the picture.
Best Photography Event: Three Days in Tharoul. So you end up in a small town in rural Belgium with the lovely Philippe Malcorps hosting. There is a wine cellar with fine wine and Belgian beer (Rochefort and Orval), there's Fabrice Wagner cooking dinner, there is a fire and Pierre Liebaert is playing medieval choral music, there is Philippe playing a hurdy gurdy, Paul Gaffney's taking photographs, I'm writing the text and then Pierre makes a book of it all. In three days. Simply wonderful.
Best Photography Festival Muse: Alex Bochetto above or is it Mathieu Asselin below or maybe Rocco Venezia even more below.
Best Fox: This one, shown at the top.
Best Thing to Happen to me in Photography: Alex, All Quiet and ICVL.
Best Photography Misapprehension: Photography is a kind of social work.
Best 3D dinosaur: Don't even think about not clicking on this if you haven't seen it.
Best Beach: Rhossili, thank you very much. That's where the fox is.
Best Photograph-judging app: This one.
Best Worst-of Best-of Photobook list: This one where family, friends and students condescend all over my favourite books.
Best Photobook List: This one by Blake Andrews remains pretty spot-on.
Best Best-List: The one for 2016 was pretty good. Any best-of list that has a worst shave must be hard to beat!
Here's to the next 10 years. Or next year at least. I'll be having a break for now, but when I come back I'll continue the same random mix as ever.
Remember. The moral of this blog is that I haven't got a clue what's going on. And nor has anybody else. And if they say they have, well they must be jolly clever. Or delusional. And that's a fact!
Happy Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy New Year!
Tuesday, 12 December 2017
In Politicians want us to be fearful, John Bargh talks about how fear is used as a tool of control. It helps creates social, economic, racial and sexual injustice, both at a conscious and an unconscious level.
Bargh talks about how effective this unconscious communication is, that it infests our lives through images and ideas in popular culture and beyond. He talks about racism in US TV shows and how it is unconsciously manifested in even supposedly liberal broadcasts, and he talks about how gender bias is slammed on us from every corner. He talks about how the dominant culture message can overcome the personal message using an example of Asian-American girls who are convinced they can't do maths because they are girls.
“These Asian-American girls are not hearing at home that girls can’t do maths,” Bargh points out. “These are Harvard preschool kids; the parents are, like, tiger mums and dads. A lot of them brought the children into the study thinking that being in this Harvard study at age five would help their girl get into Harvard at age 18: that’s how motivated they are. They’re not the ones who are telling the girls they can’t do maths. It’s in the culture we soak up, without even knowing it.”
A lot of this negative bias comes from visual culture. You can see it everywhere from your toyshop to the children's department store, to the avatars selected for online games. It is absolutely all around us. I think we need to be aware of exactly how culture works, how images operate, and how they affect us at that subliminal level. We need to be our own adbusters in other words.
I remember seeing Joachim Schmidt talk once and he had this great tagline that he's not going to make any more images until all the old ones are used up. I think there's something to be said for that in visual literacy. Until we start understanding the fundamentals of how images really work, on a basic everyday, functional level (which is not the same as the synthetic gallery/book/critical level), maybe we should ease up on creating a new languages. The danger being that you end up like Robert Capa, speaking lots of languages, all of them badly.
The other thing the article mentioned is that
'Conservatives have larger fear centres of the brain. They’re more concerned with physical safety than liberals. Once we feel afraid, our own fear can further distort our perception of actual danger. For example, research has found that when people become new parents of a tiny, vulnerable baby, they begin to believe their local crime rate is going up, even if it is falling. “That happened to me,” Bargh admits. “After my daughter was born, suddenly we felt that the neighbourhood was getting so dangerous that we had to leave.”'
I can empathise with that idea. There's a section in my book All Quiet on the Home Front dealing with that. I saw death all around. First of all the domestic space became a source of danger, so much so that I dreamt about death. And then as your child's environment widens, the rest of the world becomes a source of danger; the supermarket, the park, the streets. And people become a danger.
So part of being a parent is managing that danger, both for yourself and for your child. It's a kind of slow exposure to danger - physical danger in the form of the natural world, but also the threats posed by the kind of negative bias that Bargh mentions above. Being a parent, to a girl in particular, is about making your child visually literate, making the institutionalised misogyny of the visual world apparent to them.
Linked to that is the issue of managing fear and understanding fear. The point Bargh makes about fear relates to a low level background hum of fear, an anxiety almost. Here in the UK, we live in an age of anxiety. That's what this millenium is, the Age of Anxiety. And it's numbing and soul destroying.
I have often wondered on this blog if photography doesn't live in a perpetual age of anxiety. There is a sense of fear in photography, and even when people like myself say we shouldn't live in fear, there seems to be an underlying tone that is judgemental and limiting.
The challenge is how to recognise that fear and make work without fear. There are all kinds of fear; fear of ridicule, fear of not being cool, fear of being called unethical, fear of being too emotional, fear of being scolded. The last one is a big one. Photography can be very scoldy.
Because of all these fears you have a state where people are afraid to make work, are limited in what they can make. You can feel it all the time, you can see it all the time in people shifting away from their vision, their idea of what really matters to put themselves in line with the world-view of their photographer mentors and peers.
My blog is 10 years old this week and I'll be doing a random best-of list later in the week, but there is one thing I will mention here instead because it connects and it fits better here.
Image from The Great Bazaar by Alejandro Acin
It's meeting Alejandro Acin, publishing my book All Quiet on the Home Front and hanging out with the super-talented people connected to IC Visual Labs at their HQ and othe venues in Bristol. All Quiet on the Home Front is quite an emotional book (at Gazebook Sicily in September I had a group of Italian friends expressing disbelief that an Englishman with a German mother could make such a book) and in a strange way did require an overcoming of fear.
And that is what IC Visual Labs is all about. Every time I go there, I see people who are all being fearless in some way, and making fantastic work because of it. When they make their work, they simply don't care about what other people say and that is what makes their work so good. It's not easy. There is a huge amount of pressure on them to do things in a certain way, to limit the political or the personal or the emotional or the creative elements. But in that environment at IC Visual Labs, there is a certain freedom of creative thought and freedom of creative expression, and a pleasure in that freedom, that you do not get easily elsewhere. And that is why Mr Acin and everybody involved in IC Visual Labs, you're top of my 10 years of the blog best-of list, the rest of which is to come on Thursday.
Monday, 11 December 2017
'The ratsbane (arsenic) eaters belong mostly to the lower classes, wood cleavers, stable grooms, charcoal burners, and wood warts. They fall into that habit at the early age of fifteen, and continue it until the ages of seventy and seventy-six. Although the female sex is not averse to it, the majority belongs to the male sex. They are generally strong and healthy persons, courageous, pugnacious, and of strong sexual dispositions. The reason of this habit is very probably atiributable to the fact of its apparent favorable action upon horses.'
Reality is not stable as Simon says, and the way that he looked both at that old arsenic-eating world and the present-day world was a reflection of that perspective.
The lesson of the arsenic eaters is not that they are something old and alien, but that they should help us reflect on who the contemporary arsenic eaters are. And they are all around us. We are all arsenic eaters.
Simon is now planning to publish a book which will be released next year. You can pre-order a copy of the book and see more work, and more on the history of the arsenic eaters, here.
Why did people eat arsenic?
People ingested arsenic in order to overcome physical limitations: to be strong and healthy, to look rosy, to boost their sexual potency. It made them more competitive. This makes sense if you look at the broader context: eating arsenic was common until the early 20th century among the rural population in the eastern parts of the Alps. Living off the mountains meant to be subjected to physical hardship. People were self-supporters, they did not have much. But they could get their hands on arsenic, one of the strongest mineral poisons.
When did you find out about arsenic eaters?
In the region I grew up, there is a myth of a special substance people used to take in order to become strong and ruthless. I started to investigate in it and quickly found out that this substance was arsenic. My grandmother told me that it was still around when she was a kid. And she called me crazy for wanting to investigate the matter. Eating arsenic was a taboo.
Do people still eat arsenic?
Not as I am aware of. It lost its market in a way. We live in a capitalistic world where people can get their hands on a lot of other things to improve themselves: all kinds of legal and illegal drugs. Eating arsenic does not make sense anymore.
When did you decide to make a story on arsenic eaters?
When I started researching the topic I kept on finding material connected to the use of arsenic: on historic mining, on superstition, on medicine and on pre 20th-century rural life in general. And I visited the remote, still accessible arsenic mines dating back all the way to the 14th century. I was fascinated by how this almost surreal story was literally still accessible. And by how much effort was made to dig those mines in order to get hands on arsenic.
I wanted to find out how this story is connected to our present existence. I wanted to find out in what kind of reality eating arsenic made sense.
Have you ever tried arsenic? Are you tempted?
I managed to get my hands on the actual historical product. Its lethal dose is said to be very small: 0.1–0.3 grams (it is said that you start with the dose the size of a wheat grain). And I think that the arsenics full effect comes from its chronic use. It’s an experiment I did not dare to undertake yet.
Why did you decide to make a book on arsenic eaters?
I am a photographer and work on a multi-layered story. I think a book is just the most natural form for that.
What is the contemporary relevance of arsenic eating?
Eating arsenic is not relevant anymore. But the fact that it even existed – and it existed until the 1950ies – is. What once was common is now unthinkable. Reality is not a stable concept.