I took a gamble again with Assignment Three shooting it overseas, but on this occasion, I know I can re shoot in the UK if I have to. The themes will be the same, but different images. Hopefully it won't come to that! I'm just pleased that I had another opportunity to use street/travel photography themes for an assignment.
I decided on this occasion to submit five images. Using a tightly edited and visually consistent approach worked well for Assignment Two, so I applied the same methodology. Adding more than five images would not have added extra information to the story; it already said what I wanted to say, and adding more (as I found out) risked introducing images that were not visually consistent.
Overall, my criticism of this presentation is whether the narrative is actually about the speed of the passage of time, or the volume of work I have to do. Hopefully, the relationship between the two elements and the fact that they have an adverse impact on each other comes through.
It was hard for me to try to shoot deliberately blurred scenes; I usually aim for absolute precision. Although actually, apart from Image 1, which was deliberate, and 2 where I tried to be a bit sharper, the others are a bit fuzzy by happy accident.
The images I like the most are 1, 3 and 5. I really like image 1 from Tokyo: it conveys the concept of a flood of stuff (represented by the people on the crossing) coming towards me (the daily tidal wave) and the street photography elements of the matching jumpers on the girls is an added bonus. This was shot handheld at the slowest shutter speed I dared without blurring the background - 1/15s. I think I managed to get sufficient softness without losing outlines. The inclusion of the "stop hand" in the top left corner, works well as the "voice of reason" telling me to slow down, even though it's impossible. And of course Starbucks in the background: coffee to start the day! Image 3 from Osaka is a street photography "moment" shot through the back of the machine, creating the illusion of multiplying tasks (represented by the reflection of the bears) and the added twist of the man grabbing a toy instead of the claw. Image 5 from the snow monkey park in Jigokudani Yaen-Koen on Christmas Day was an accident. I didn't know I'd taken it until that evening when I was editing my 1000 shots from that day and I found it. It was taken with a shutter speed of 1/160s so that tells you how fast they shake their heads! I was trying at the time to create a cute monkey bathing picture, and didn't mean to take a demonic head-shaking "Exorcist" monkey. I'm glad I didn't realise it was there on the day, as I would probably have deleted it, thinking it was too blurred.
The image I don't like is Image 4. This was taken in Miyaji (an island near Hiroshima) on New Year's Eve at the Chinkasai Fire Festival. It was very crowded, raining and moving very fast. I took a lot of shots trying to get the fire action with faces coming towards me (rather than backs) - they all failed - the framing was hard with everything moving so quickly. This image is in fact a crop (hence it is a bit grainier than the others).
Image 2 is ok; it was an easy shot being indoors and not moving (although I had had a few drinks when I took it). This is in fact the toilet door of the bar I was in and it immediately looked like the boxes on my Outlook calendar at work on week view when I saw it. Later I noticed the two toilet symbols, which made me laugh, as that is also a problem (as in finding time)... the gap giving me time for one lunch break during the week was an added bonus.
In terms of the Assessment Criteria, here are my thoughts:
Demonstration of technical and visual skills
If I'm honest, I don't think technically I pushed myself or tried anything new really. I was operating within my street photography comfort zone (much easier in Asia than in UK), and didn't attempt anything tricky. Technically the hardest shot was Image 4 because of the movement, weather and light, and having to keep up with the festival participants. I had an opportunity to try something more creative with Image 1 (i.e. use a tripod and try to get people ghosting or maybe use a zoom burst on one person), but because I already had an image I liked, which had sufficient (very slight) blur I decided to stick with that one. I was also under time pressure by then.
Quality of outcome
Having made the claim that I was inspired recently by two contemporary images that made the most of a monochrome, blurred technique, I don't like very much what I made. The pictures are very dark and my interpretation of the subject matter is very dark; this is quite a contrast from my what is (now) usual colourful and comical images. I'm pleased though that I managed to put together something that said what I wanted it to say, but I don't feel that this is representative of my own style. I'm not sure I have a style yet, but I don't think it's going to be this. In terms of whether it hangs together as a series, the images are connected by theme and visual consistency, but not in terms of a linkage effect between each one, as I had achieved with Assignment Two. This series needs the text to make it hang together.
Demonstration of creativity
I never know how to answer this part; yes I've made something - I've created something from nothing and I've tried a different way of presentation. It's unlikely to be very original - I'm sure the Shibuya Crossing has been photographed a million times already. I suppose from the point of view that I have presented images in a different way to normal, they could be considered creative, but on retrospect, I do prefer colour street photography. I think all the images work better individually in colour, but they sit better together as a series in black and white. And of course I wanted to make them seem sinister, which I think the black and white helps with. I chose the black background and white writing to the presentation format to enhance the concept of this mysterious force that controls my life. All in all, the interpretation (metaphorical) is probably more creative than the photography itself.
Context
My research for this assignment continued with my general and on-going street photography work (see other posts under the "Street Photography" tag) and the two photographers I mentioned. I am looking more and more now at contemporary photographers who have made the leap that I am trying to make, i.e. to find my own style. By looking at contemporary photographers who were recently at my stage of the journey (rather than some of the older classics e.g. Bresson), and who perhaps a few years ago were where I am now, makes the end goal seem more attainable. I did however follow my tutor's advice, which was to try to get deeper into one subject.
Overall
Overall I am pleased to have done this work, but I don't think introspection is the way forward for me. I am more interested in observing the world around me than looking within.
Waiting for Summer
Sunday, 8 February 2015
Assignment Three - Self-portrait: Preparation and Execution
All images reproduced in this post
have been included by kind permission of their original author. The
copyright remains with the photographer stated. All other images are my
own.
Preparation
Assignment Three asks us to keep a diary for a couple of weeks, and then to use that to develop a self-portrait drawing upon the examples studied in Part Three of this module.
My approach to this project was initially to follow the instructions and to keep a diary for a period of time. I chose to start the diary on 25 November 2014 and had intended to update it twice a day during my train journeys to and from work. I made single entries on 25, 27, 28, 29, and 30 November, and 1, 3, 5 and 8 December. On 16 December I wrote a summary of my entries. The biggest observation was that I have no available time. I couldn't even find the time to make a diary entry every day. For a start, I don't always get a seat on the train, and when I did, I was more inclined to look at images online than to write about myself. I realised that I am so busy with going to work, being at work, doing my coursework, researching, and then all the boring stuff like laundry etc, that I have no time, nor the inclination for introspection. Both at work and at home, my life seems to hurtle along at 100mph getting me through an enormous volume of work. The days fly past in a blurred rush of confusion. From one week to the next, I don't even remember what I've done.
To manage this, my life has become compartmentalised into little boxes on electronic calendars where everything I have agreed to do or have to do is mapped out. My work and home calendars do in fact look very similar. At work there are no gaps due to meetings and deadlines, at home there are no gaps due to photography commitments and traveling; the home calendar of course being a nice problem to have! But, if I don't do the allotted thing at the right time, in the time that I have allowed, it either doesn't happen, or there is a knock-on domino effect and something else suffers. Somewhere in the cracks, I see my poor husband, dogs, friends and rest of family. It seems that time takes the form of an out-of-control all-consuming monster that has a mind and a course of its own that I have no choice but to keep up with; I certainly can't slow it down. At night, I struggle to go to bed early (even though my alarm is set for a ridiculous time in the morning), as I feel robbed. I want just a bit more time for myself before I have to sleep. If I go to bed too early, I can't sleep anyway as my brain is still rushing.
To present this aspect of my life through photography, I wanted to make the most of a trip to Japan in December 2014 and shoot my images there and so progress the travel/street approaches I have been working on during this module. Before leaving, I initially had in mind some ideas that I might be able to use:
I was also influenced by two photographers whose work I have been following recently on Flickr, who had both managed to capture sinister and confused elements into their work that I wanted to try to reflect in this assignment: Torsten Hendricks and Gareth Bragdon.
Torsten Hendricks, a German photographer based in Hong Kong, is also a Maciej Dakowicz workshop participant, but I actually found his work on Flickr before I realised I knew him from the workshop group. The photograph that inspired me for this piece of work is this one shot in Mongkok, Hong Kong, during the recent riots:
The image is part of a series called 75 Days; Hendricks writes:
"For 75 days, Hong Kong was in turmoil. It took only 75 days to change the face of a city. A city which was known for its apathy in regard to politics, was becoming the centre of heated discussions. It was a cradle of tension, with families becoming estranged, political discussions erupting in offices and fights breaking out in the streets. Seventy-five days was all it took to change the image of the former so-called best police force in the world into one of the least popular police forces in the world. Cops used heavy force against citizens. Thugs and triad members were getting into fights with protesters.
The densely populated city became a centre of politics. While the occupied zone in Admiralty was a heavily organised zone through various political parties, the occupied area in Mongkok was shaped by the outsiders, by the minorities, by the people unable to attend universities – in short, people without any representation. It was the libertarian area of the occupied areas in Hong Kong, and it was in Monk Kong that the most violence, the most political discussions, the most heated debates and the most resistance took place.
During these 75 days, I went out with the camera to document the various faces of the “Umbrella Movement”, the fights, the struggles and the impact of the movement onto the citizens".
I didn't know this though when I first saw the image. I liked the blurred effect creating confusion and the feeling that something is out of control, the angry character and aggressive position, and the framing of the central character between some stationary people. It was the sense of confusion that I wanted to incorporate into my work. I guessed that this was handheld on a slow shutter speed; I later checked with Hendricks who confirmed that that was right, but that he also uses film (not digital) and flash.
Gareth Bragdon is an American photographer based in Edinburgh. I also came across his work came to me through Flickr, but I also saw his work at the Fotoura Street Awards exhibition last year, where Bragdon was one of the finalists. Through the use of a flashgun and a low position, Bragdon creates an underworld that seems bizarre, sinister and ghoulish. The photo that particularly inspired me was this one:
This is a handheld image shot through glass. I felt that this image personified what I wanted to say about time in that it is a monstrous concept, it causes things to get stacked up without any gaps, and there is something sinister about it. I had originally intended to use the snow monkeys to show my eventual relaxed state, but once I'd make a mental connection between Bragdon's manic monkeys and my own monkey shots, I realised that I could use a monkey to add to the monster I wanted to create (see Image 5) and in fact provide a dramatic end to my series.
Execution
While I was away in Japan, I let my photography take its own course. I was after all on holiday! But as I was shooting, I was of course aware of various images that I was taking that I could use for my submission. The only image that was deliberately shot was the Shibuya Crossing image (see Image 1). My original intention had been to set up on a tripod and blur the movement of people, but in fact I got an image I already liked during my location scout trip.
Over the two weeks, a story unfolded that depicted the self-portrait I wanted to produce:
With the following meaning behind the images:
"How did it get so late, so soon? It's night before it's afternoon. December is here before it's June. My goodness how the time has flewn [sic]. How did it get so late so soon?"
But in the end I wanted to use my own words to explain what I experience, but I decided to keep the first sentence of the quote as a title piece, as this sums up perfectly what I feel every day!
Finally, I needed to think about how I would treat the images. They didn't look very frightening or monstrous in colour. Plus the lighting and tones were inconsistent. I wanted to make them look more sinister, more grainy, more like the monster I was trying to create.
I converted them all to monochrome, altered light and contrast where appropriate, and added grain. As they were shot on different ISO speeds, I had to add more grain to some than others. The only image I couldn't make work was the roller coaster - there was too much white in the image and I didn't like the composition. The top diagonal white post was bothering me. I had also tried to make a composite image for this scene that showed the car moving and the background still (instead of a panned shot) but it didn't work either - the car was too faint. I decided in the end to leave this out as it made the series seem visually inconsistent. It was an important part of the story, but the sensation of speed is present in Image 1 with the tidal wave and Image 4 with the notion that the thing will blow up if work isn't completed on time.
Please see my submission for the final images.
Websites:
Preparation
Assignment Three asks us to keep a diary for a couple of weeks, and then to use that to develop a self-portrait drawing upon the examples studied in Part Three of this module.
My approach to this project was initially to follow the instructions and to keep a diary for a period of time. I chose to start the diary on 25 November 2014 and had intended to update it twice a day during my train journeys to and from work. I made single entries on 25, 27, 28, 29, and 30 November, and 1, 3, 5 and 8 December. On 16 December I wrote a summary of my entries. The biggest observation was that I have no available time. I couldn't even find the time to make a diary entry every day. For a start, I don't always get a seat on the train, and when I did, I was more inclined to look at images online than to write about myself. I realised that I am so busy with going to work, being at work, doing my coursework, researching, and then all the boring stuff like laundry etc, that I have no time, nor the inclination for introspection. Both at work and at home, my life seems to hurtle along at 100mph getting me through an enormous volume of work. The days fly past in a blurred rush of confusion. From one week to the next, I don't even remember what I've done.
To manage this, my life has become compartmentalised into little boxes on electronic calendars where everything I have agreed to do or have to do is mapped out. My work and home calendars do in fact look very similar. At work there are no gaps due to meetings and deadlines, at home there are no gaps due to photography commitments and traveling; the home calendar of course being a nice problem to have! But, if I don't do the allotted thing at the right time, in the time that I have allowed, it either doesn't happen, or there is a knock-on domino effect and something else suffers. Somewhere in the cracks, I see my poor husband, dogs, friends and rest of family. It seems that time takes the form of an out-of-control all-consuming monster that has a mind and a course of its own that I have no choice but to keep up with; I certainly can't slow it down. At night, I struggle to go to bed early (even though my alarm is set for a ridiculous time in the morning), as I feel robbed. I want just a bit more time for myself before I have to sleep. If I go to bed too early, I can't sleep anyway as my brain is still rushing.
To present this aspect of my life through photography, I wanted to make the most of a trip to Japan in December 2014 and shoot my images there and so progress the travel/street approaches I have been working on during this module. Before leaving, I initially had in mind some ideas that I might be able to use:
- Shinkansen to illustrate the speed at which time rushes
- Mt Fuji to illustrate the volume of work to get through
- Shibuya Crossing in Tokyo to depict the tidal wave of stuff coming towards me at the start of the day
- Sushi boxes/fish crates to show the compartmentalisation of time idea - or the feeling of being stuffed in a train during the commute - or fish in a tank to show the endless movement of me and the cycles of going backwards and forwards to work
- Monkeys relaxing to show how I feel when I finally flop on the sofa at the end of the day
I was also influenced by two photographers whose work I have been following recently on Flickr, who had both managed to capture sinister and confused elements into their work that I wanted to try to reflect in this assignment: Torsten Hendricks and Gareth Bragdon.
Torsten Hendricks, a German photographer based in Hong Kong, is also a Maciej Dakowicz workshop participant, but I actually found his work on Flickr before I realised I knew him from the workshop group. The photograph that inspired me for this piece of work is this one shot in Mongkok, Hong Kong, during the recent riots:
 |
| Mongkok (c) Torsten Hendricks |
The image is part of a series called 75 Days; Hendricks writes:
"For 75 days, Hong Kong was in turmoil. It took only 75 days to change the face of a city. A city which was known for its apathy in regard to politics, was becoming the centre of heated discussions. It was a cradle of tension, with families becoming estranged, political discussions erupting in offices and fights breaking out in the streets. Seventy-five days was all it took to change the image of the former so-called best police force in the world into one of the least popular police forces in the world. Cops used heavy force against citizens. Thugs and triad members were getting into fights with protesters.
The densely populated city became a centre of politics. While the occupied zone in Admiralty was a heavily organised zone through various political parties, the occupied area in Mongkok was shaped by the outsiders, by the minorities, by the people unable to attend universities – in short, people without any representation. It was the libertarian area of the occupied areas in Hong Kong, and it was in Monk Kong that the most violence, the most political discussions, the most heated debates and the most resistance took place.
During these 75 days, I went out with the camera to document the various faces of the “Umbrella Movement”, the fights, the struggles and the impact of the movement onto the citizens".
I didn't know this though when I first saw the image. I liked the blurred effect creating confusion and the feeling that something is out of control, the angry character and aggressive position, and the framing of the central character between some stationary people. It was the sense of confusion that I wanted to incorporate into my work. I guessed that this was handheld on a slow shutter speed; I later checked with Hendricks who confirmed that that was right, but that he also uses film (not digital) and flash.
Gareth Bragdon is an American photographer based in Edinburgh. I also came across his work came to me through Flickr, but I also saw his work at the Fotoura Street Awards exhibition last year, where Bragdon was one of the finalists. Through the use of a flashgun and a low position, Bragdon creates an underworld that seems bizarre, sinister and ghoulish. The photo that particularly inspired me was this one:
 |
| (c) Gareth Bragdon |
This is a handheld image shot through glass. I felt that this image personified what I wanted to say about time in that it is a monstrous concept, it causes things to get stacked up without any gaps, and there is something sinister about it. I had originally intended to use the snow monkeys to show my eventual relaxed state, but once I'd make a mental connection between Bragdon's manic monkeys and my own monkey shots, I realised that I could use a monkey to add to the monster I wanted to create (see Image 5) and in fact provide a dramatic end to my series.
Execution
While I was away in Japan, I let my photography take its own course. I was after all on holiday! But as I was shooting, I was of course aware of various images that I was taking that I could use for my submission. The only image that was deliberately shot was the Shibuya Crossing image (see Image 1). My original intention had been to set up on a tripod and blur the movement of people, but in fact I got an image I already liked during my location scout trip.
Over the two weeks, a story unfolded that depicted the self-portrait I wanted to produce:
 |
| Image 1 |
 |
| Image 2 |
 |
| Image 3 |
 |
| Rollercoaster |
 |
| Image 4 |
 |
| Image 5 |
With the following meaning behind the images:
- Image 1 (Shibuya Crossing, Tokyo) - tidal wave of activity about to start at the beginning of the day
- Image 2 (Bar Buri, Ebisu, Tokyo) - compartmentalisation of time
- Image 3 (Dotomburi, Osaka) - despite my attempts at being organised, changing and multiplying priorities
- Rollercoaster (Fuji-Q Highland, Kawaguchiko) - time is rushing at 100mph - the day is disappearing, yet I feel stood still unable to keep up with it
- Image 4 (Miyaji) - need to finish my tasks before the deadline - otherwise it will blow up in my face
- Image 5 (Jigokudani Yaen-Koen) - finally, home, I can relax, but my head is still spinning.....
"How did it get so late, so soon? It's night before it's afternoon. December is here before it's June. My goodness how the time has flewn [sic]. How did it get so late so soon?"
But in the end I wanted to use my own words to explain what I experience, but I decided to keep the first sentence of the quote as a title piece, as this sums up perfectly what I feel every day!
Finally, I needed to think about how I would treat the images. They didn't look very frightening or monstrous in colour. Plus the lighting and tones were inconsistent. I wanted to make them look more sinister, more grainy, more like the monster I was trying to create.
I converted them all to monochrome, altered light and contrast where appropriate, and added grain. As they were shot on different ISO speeds, I had to add more grain to some than others. The only image I couldn't make work was the roller coaster - there was too much white in the image and I didn't like the composition. The top diagonal white post was bothering me. I had also tried to make a composite image for this scene that showed the car moving and the background still (instead of a panned shot) but it didn't work either - the car was too faint. I decided in the end to leave this out as it made the series seem visually inconsistent. It was an important part of the story, but the sensation of speed is present in Image 1 with the tidal wave and Image 4 with the notion that the thing will blow up if work isn't completed on time.
Please see my submission for the final images.
Websites:
- Gareth Bragdon on Flickr available from https://www.flickr.com/photos/garethbragdon/ [accessed 8 February 2015]
- Maciej Dakowicz Photography Workshops available from http://www.maciejdakowicz.com/photography-workshops/ [accessed 8 February 2015]
- The Art of Dr Seuss available from http://www.drseussart.com/ [accessed 13 February 2015]
- Torsten Hendricks on Flickr available from https://www.flickr.com/photos/purityt/ [accessed 8 February 2015]
Conflict.Time.Photography
This was an exhibition that I really wanted to see, so I was really pleased to be able to attend the OCA Study Visit to the Conflict.Time.Photography
exhibition at the Tate Modern in London with tutors Sharon Boothroyd,
Russel Squires and Clive White and a lot of other students. I wrote a
lot of notes!
Overall, I found the exhibition extremely interesting, but a little daunting. For a start, there is a lot to see, and so the allotted hour and half was not really enough to be able to get round, make notes, look, digest, reflect. I started off by looking at everything in detail. After a while, I realised that I was way behind everyone else, and would not make the talk afterwards if I didn't speed up. So my notes became more and more untidy, and I became more and more selective about what I looked at in detail. In the end, I bought the book to have something reliable to refer to. But, I made the talk though! :)
I try not to find out too much about exhibitions before I go. I want to be able to experience the exhibition without any preconceptions or other people's opinions that would influence my reaction. If I want to know more, I can look it up afterwards, once I know how I feel about the photographs. So, I hadn't read up on too much about this beforehand, but was expecting to find an exhibition about the impact of war and how that impact changes over time. I wasn't expecting to see conflict photography or "war porn"; I was expecting to see traces, scars and footprints. And essentially that is what the exhibition delivered. For me the exhibition was about time interacts with conflict, how time changes the impact of war and how time creates distance and healing.
We were advised at the start to think about the curation of the exhibition as we walked through. If I'm honest, I found it confusing. The time sequences were muddled and represented both time since the conflict incident or impact, but also the time at which images from an immediate impact were compiled. So in some cases, 15 years represented the time that creates distance between the event and the photography, in others, 15 years represented how much later from the time the image was shot that it was included in a compilation. So, at one point, I looked at some images shot of the remains of car bombs in The Lebanon by Walid Raad, The Atlas Group, My Neck is Thinner than a Hair: Engines, 2000-2003 (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 74-75), which had been billed as "9 Years Later, and I wrote in my notes "Why have they not been cleared up? 9 years is a long time to leave these lying around....", and then of course, I realised that the images were taken soon after after the incidents, and that it was the compilation that had taken place ten years later. And this happened several times during the exhibition.
Another annoying thing about the way the exhibition was laid out, was that it jumped in time periods and bandings. So I wasn't sure where I was going in time, on some occasions. Also, it felt that the immediate section and the end section - 85-92 years later, were disproportionately small compared to the bulk of the exhibition which was around 10-30 years later. I would have preferred more evenly spaced intervals to make a better comparison to the passage of time, e.g. immediate, up to ten years, and then by decade. Then you could measure the changing effects of time on the human and physical environment of the event. And in fact, if I were the curator (I know...what do I know...?) - I would have started at the furthest away point in time, i.e. 100 years later, and worked backwards, building up in momentum to conclude on a crescendo of Moments Later with scenes of an almighty blast punctuated by the final image of Don McCullin's Shell Shocked US Marine, Vietnam, Hué, 1968, (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, p. 9) that leaves you wondering what awful thing he has seen, what is happening behind the eyes.
A further aspect that didn't work for me, was that some of the images were incredibly small and hard to see. I found this unsettling and perhaps unnecessary? If the intention was only to use originals, then the poster size production of Don McCullin's Shell Shocked US Marine, Vietnam, Hué, 1968, (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, p. 9) was surely much bigger than McCullin's intention at the time? It's certainly very grainy so to me looks like it's been blown up. So unfortunately, the very small images for me were disappointing and did not get much attention.
What I loved, and this is a photographer I am always captivated by, were two of the images by Luc Delahaye: US Bombing on Taliban Positions 2001 (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 2-3) and Ambush, Ramadi 2006 (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp 4-5). I have seen both these images before as with all Delahaye's work I find it astonishing that you feel that you can walk into these large frames; they are completely mesmorising. These for me were the real stars of the show. In Ambush, Ramadi, the neutral palette, the faint shapes, and the very faint tracks made by (presumably) a tank leading the eye from the base of the frame into the middle of the scene, all make for a beautiful scene, although of course it's not. Taken seconds after an attack, this is a scene of destruction, yet it is unnervingly calm and peaceful. Looking at images like these create ethical dilemmas of whether we should appreciate their beauty; is it acceptable to make something that is aesthetically pleasing out of destruction and suffering?
I found a few other exhibits also had that tension and argument between beautiful and disturbed, for instance, Simon Norfolk, Afghanistan: Chronotopia, 2001-2, (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 12-15), "Days Later", clearly devastating impact on the environment and evidence of human disaster, yet presented in beautiful light. The exhibit title is linked to the idea of space and time in art and literature ((Baker and Mavlian, 2014, p. 13), however, I also wondered if it was also an irony about colour and utopia and therefore a reference to the ethical dilemma of war imagery.
Another exhibit I found interesting was the collection of fragmentary details (the areas that blue, red or yellow dots on contact sheets had hidden) by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin called People in Trouble Laughing Pushed to the Ground (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 76-79). Each individual image presented a discrete moment, for instance a hand, a finger pointing, a person lying on the ground, people at a protest, a chair suspended in mid-air; and the assembly of these together into one body of work creates a jumbled, yet compelling narrative. Fragments from a long conflict that took place close to home, The Troubles in Northern Ireland, revealed by removing the dots. It was an intriguing exercise to look at the fragments and try to piece together an impression of what actually happened. What was confusing though, as described above, was that this collection was billed as being "13 Years Later", although it had been compiled 13 years after the Good Friday Agreement; the actual relationship of the fragments to time since conflict is the present, as the images were shot in 1983 during the conflict. So the concept of 13 years later does not say anything about the impact of time on the incident. These are not scars, these are critical moments during the conflict like glimpses seen through port holes. It was also a shame that some of the images were so high up the wall (to the ceiling) that you could not see them. What's the point of that?
Other collections/photographers that I found interesting or moving were:
References
Overall, I found the exhibition extremely interesting, but a little daunting. For a start, there is a lot to see, and so the allotted hour and half was not really enough to be able to get round, make notes, look, digest, reflect. I started off by looking at everything in detail. After a while, I realised that I was way behind everyone else, and would not make the talk afterwards if I didn't speed up. So my notes became more and more untidy, and I became more and more selective about what I looked at in detail. In the end, I bought the book to have something reliable to refer to. But, I made the talk though! :)
I try not to find out too much about exhibitions before I go. I want to be able to experience the exhibition without any preconceptions or other people's opinions that would influence my reaction. If I want to know more, I can look it up afterwards, once I know how I feel about the photographs. So, I hadn't read up on too much about this beforehand, but was expecting to find an exhibition about the impact of war and how that impact changes over time. I wasn't expecting to see conflict photography or "war porn"; I was expecting to see traces, scars and footprints. And essentially that is what the exhibition delivered. For me the exhibition was about time interacts with conflict, how time changes the impact of war and how time creates distance and healing.
We were advised at the start to think about the curation of the exhibition as we walked through. If I'm honest, I found it confusing. The time sequences were muddled and represented both time since the conflict incident or impact, but also the time at which images from an immediate impact were compiled. So in some cases, 15 years represented the time that creates distance between the event and the photography, in others, 15 years represented how much later from the time the image was shot that it was included in a compilation. So, at one point, I looked at some images shot of the remains of car bombs in The Lebanon by Walid Raad, The Atlas Group, My Neck is Thinner than a Hair: Engines, 2000-2003 (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 74-75), which had been billed as "9 Years Later, and I wrote in my notes "Why have they not been cleared up? 9 years is a long time to leave these lying around....", and then of course, I realised that the images were taken soon after after the incidents, and that it was the compilation that had taken place ten years later. And this happened several times during the exhibition.
Another annoying thing about the way the exhibition was laid out, was that it jumped in time periods and bandings. So I wasn't sure where I was going in time, on some occasions. Also, it felt that the immediate section and the end section - 85-92 years later, were disproportionately small compared to the bulk of the exhibition which was around 10-30 years later. I would have preferred more evenly spaced intervals to make a better comparison to the passage of time, e.g. immediate, up to ten years, and then by decade. Then you could measure the changing effects of time on the human and physical environment of the event. And in fact, if I were the curator (I know...what do I know...?) - I would have started at the furthest away point in time, i.e. 100 years later, and worked backwards, building up in momentum to conclude on a crescendo of Moments Later with scenes of an almighty blast punctuated by the final image of Don McCullin's Shell Shocked US Marine, Vietnam, Hué, 1968, (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, p. 9) that leaves you wondering what awful thing he has seen, what is happening behind the eyes.
A further aspect that didn't work for me, was that some of the images were incredibly small and hard to see. I found this unsettling and perhaps unnecessary? If the intention was only to use originals, then the poster size production of Don McCullin's Shell Shocked US Marine, Vietnam, Hué, 1968, (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, p. 9) was surely much bigger than McCullin's intention at the time? It's certainly very grainy so to me looks like it's been blown up. So unfortunately, the very small images for me were disappointing and did not get much attention.
What I loved, and this is a photographer I am always captivated by, were two of the images by Luc Delahaye: US Bombing on Taliban Positions 2001 (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 2-3) and Ambush, Ramadi 2006 (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp 4-5). I have seen both these images before as with all Delahaye's work I find it astonishing that you feel that you can walk into these large frames; they are completely mesmorising. These for me were the real stars of the show. In Ambush, Ramadi, the neutral palette, the faint shapes, and the very faint tracks made by (presumably) a tank leading the eye from the base of the frame into the middle of the scene, all make for a beautiful scene, although of course it's not. Taken seconds after an attack, this is a scene of destruction, yet it is unnervingly calm and peaceful. Looking at images like these create ethical dilemmas of whether we should appreciate their beauty; is it acceptable to make something that is aesthetically pleasing out of destruction and suffering?
I found a few other exhibits also had that tension and argument between beautiful and disturbed, for instance, Simon Norfolk, Afghanistan: Chronotopia, 2001-2, (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 12-15), "Days Later", clearly devastating impact on the environment and evidence of human disaster, yet presented in beautiful light. The exhibit title is linked to the idea of space and time in art and literature ((Baker and Mavlian, 2014, p. 13), however, I also wondered if it was also an irony about colour and utopia and therefore a reference to the ethical dilemma of war imagery.
Another exhibit I found interesting was the collection of fragmentary details (the areas that blue, red or yellow dots on contact sheets had hidden) by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin called People in Trouble Laughing Pushed to the Ground (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 76-79). Each individual image presented a discrete moment, for instance a hand, a finger pointing, a person lying on the ground, people at a protest, a chair suspended in mid-air; and the assembly of these together into one body of work creates a jumbled, yet compelling narrative. Fragments from a long conflict that took place close to home, The Troubles in Northern Ireland, revealed by removing the dots. It was an intriguing exercise to look at the fragments and try to piece together an impression of what actually happened. What was confusing though, as described above, was that this collection was billed as being "13 Years Later", although it had been compiled 13 years after the Good Friday Agreement; the actual relationship of the fragments to time since conflict is the present, as the images were shot in 1983 during the conflict. So the concept of 13 years later does not say anything about the impact of time on the incident. These are not scars, these are critical moments during the conflict like glimpses seen through port holes. It was also a shame that some of the images were so high up the wall (to the ceiling) that you could not see them. What's the point of that?
Other collections/photographers that I found interesting or moving were:
- Matsumoto Eiichi, Shadow of a soldier remaining on the wooden wall of the Nagasaki military headquarters (Minami-Yamate machi, 4.5km from Ground Zero), taken "Weeks Later" (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 16-17) - awful evidence of the human toll from the Nagasaki blast and a clear example of where a trace photograph can be so compelling
- Sophie Ristelbueber, Fait, 1992, "7 Months Later" (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 36-45) - a deceptively beautiful, shiny, glossy, even toned, collection of square format scenes of scars and damaged landscapes with shifting perspectives (aerial and ground views); lots of "wow factor" in the display method (an entire room)
- Jo Ratcliffe, Terreno Occupado, 2007, "5 Years Later", (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 58-63) - scenes of fragile recovery following the end of the Angolan Civil War, but recovery seems the wrong word. These are shanty towns set in the most awful living conditions of damaged environment and waste. The white uniforms give the idea of aid/medical workers and looking at these images, I felt relieved on the one hand that people and their livestock have survived and that rebuilding has started, yet appalled at the conditions portrayed. The scene of a young girl carrying a child across a rubbish tip with only flip flops to protect her feet is shocking
- Jim Goldberg and Kamel Khelif, Open See (Democratic Republic of Congo), 2008, "5 Years Later" (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 64-67) - it would be remiss not to comment on this interesting and interactive mixed media display documenting displaced persons, although I'm not sure I understood the origin of the scenes - the book describes them as people who have fled to Europe, but the scenes are clearly in Africa. The display of frames on the floor is a terrible twist on the idea of family frames, very very sad images
- Stephen Shore, Ukraine, 2012-2013, "67 Years Later" (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 172-179) - everyday objects of Ukrainian Holocaust survivors and their surroundings. These images almost appear normal, yet they seem incredibly antiquated for having been taken a couple of years ago
- Shomei Tomatsu, 11:02 Nagasaki, 1966, "21 Years Later" (Baker and Mavlian, 2014, pp. 126-133) - I think this is the most illustrative of all the exhibits of the concept of the impact of time on war or conflict. You can see in the image of the watch where time stood still at the moment of the explosion, the scarring effect on people - they survived but were physically, mentally and emotionally, changed forever with that impact continuing in time. I know from a recent visit to Japan, that these scars are still present. In Hiroshima, a young woman (around 30 years old at a guess) thanked me for showing an interest in their history.
References
- Baker, S. and Mavlian, S. (Eds.) (2014) Conflict. Time. Photography. London: Tate Publishing.
- Conflict.Time.Photography at Tate Modern available from http://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/exhibition/conflict-time-photography [accessed 2 February 2015]
Monday, 2 February 2015
Wildlife Photographer of the Year 2014
Before Christmas, I went to the WPY 2014 exhibition hosted at the Natural History Museum in London. I have been to this exhibition several years in a row now; it's become a bit of a "before Christmas" ritual. And I am also an avid collector of the books, trying to complete the entire series with the help of my "Amazon wishlist"! This year, however, a strange thing happened. When I was walking around, I wasn't that impressed. Usually I'm blown away with this exhibition, but for some reason, on this occasion I couldn't really respond to what I was seeing. I certainly liked the winning image by Michael Nichols, which, along with another one of his images also in the exhibition, I had previous commented on in a post on my DPP blog, but I wasn't surprised by anything I saw. At the time I wondered why my reaction was like that, especially when the display and lighting of this exhibition is so amazing and the camera settings are published so you can learn about the exposure and situation, but I thought it might be because I have now seen so much photography in exhibitions, and a lot of wildlife amongst that, that I could be becoming desensitised? Is wildlife photography now predictable?
Nearly two months later, when I finally got around to writing this post, I checked back to the WPOTY site to see the winning images again. And they are amazing! Why didn't I think that at the time? I still like the black and white lions by Michael Nichols, and a lot of the other images too. The one I like the most though, shows a group of Ethiopian gelades: Communal Warmth by Simone Sbaraglia. Primates have such appealing faces, and this is such a beautifully lit bundle of furriness - in this cold weather it would be tempting to join them! And all of the finalists in the Birds category, are spectacular! And then that image of the mouse, moon and mosquito, all the underwater shots, the Namibia dunes, and the various story collections; this is all remarkable photography!
So, I'm not sure why my reaction was what it was on the day; the only thing I can think of is that the exhibition is so crowded that it's very hard to walk around and enjoy it. You can't take your time to look and enjoy an image when people are pushing and standing in front of you, and I think, impatiently, I just got fed up with being there. This year, I will try and go when it's less busy.
Websites:
Own work referred to:
Nearly two months later, when I finally got around to writing this post, I checked back to the WPOTY site to see the winning images again. And they are amazing! Why didn't I think that at the time? I still like the black and white lions by Michael Nichols, and a lot of the other images too. The one I like the most though, shows a group of Ethiopian gelades: Communal Warmth by Simone Sbaraglia. Primates have such appealing faces, and this is such a beautifully lit bundle of furriness - in this cold weather it would be tempting to join them! And all of the finalists in the Birds category, are spectacular! And then that image of the mouse, moon and mosquito, all the underwater shots, the Namibia dunes, and the various story collections; this is all remarkable photography!
So, I'm not sure why my reaction was what it was on the day; the only thing I can think of is that the exhibition is so crowded that it's very hard to walk around and enjoy it. You can't take your time to look and enjoy an image when people are pushing and standing in front of you, and I think, impatiently, I just got fed up with being there. This year, I will try and go when it's less busy.
Websites:
- Natural History Museum Wildlife Photographer of the Year available from http://www.nhm.ac.uk/visit-us/wpy/gallery/2014/index.html [accessed 2 February 2015]
Own work referred to:
- National Geographic - August 2013 - B&W animal portraits in Alison Adcock - Digital Photographic Practice Learning Blog available from http://jointheaadpp.blogspot.co.uk/2013/12/national-geographic-august-2013-b.html [accessed 2 February 2015]
Sunday, 1 February 2015
Part Three - Putting yourself in the picture: Project Three - Self-absented portraiture: Exercise - Nigel Shafran - Washing Up
I found this work more interesting than other forms of portraiture for example that of Trish Morrissey's. I referred to his website containing a number of images in the "Washing Up" series. My first reaction was to feel sorry for my poor husband, who does more than his fair share of washing up because he works from home and has more time. As I scrolled through the images I noticed more and more details and questions (dates refer to the date of the image):
- 4/1/2000: The N and the R behind the sink taps - what does that mean? I later realised that the R must stand for Ruth - his wife. Is the N&R a reminder to share the washing up? Why do these letters later disappear? Did something change in the relationship or is this just a meaningless detail? Evidence of Christmas decorations - mistletoe above the kettle - they are an affectionate couple. Photographs on the walls - a couple with memories.
- 28/1/2000 - washing up seems more bulky and clutter; image shot at a much closer distance - no context information in the frame - is he cross? What's "seitan"? I found out that seitan is a vegetarian protein derived from wheat gluten. So they are vegetarian but not wheat intolerant (or worse).
- 30/1/2000 - who is Lillie Donaldson?
- 31/1/2000 - evening shot (so far the others have been daytime). Mistletoe is still up, photos are still there, candles have gone from the window frame and what is that blue thing on the plug?
- 6/2/2000 - bulk and clutter - close up - cross again? No personal details in this shot.
- 7/2/2000 - bottle of wine, had a beer with Jack (social life), why the different vertical format of the frame? Seems to be a lot of washing up for the amount of food prepared...
- 11/2/2000 - has seen Nick - evidence of beers, less washing up than before but still vertical format and one photo in view
- 19/2/2000 - Ruth is out, he's seen Dave - weird plant thing hanging from wire? Back to a wider view. New plant growing on the window sill.
- 16/3/2000 - someone else did the washing up. Different plant on the window sill.
- 25/4/2000 - at someone else's house - presumably the chicken was eaten by someone else? Even away from home, he feels he cannot get away from the washing up.
- 18/5/2000 - different location again - still can't get away from washing up.
- 20/5/2000 - different location again - have they stopped being vegetarian? It's hard to work out who's eating what!
- 27/6/2000 - back home, vegetarian, seems fed up with recording these details.
- Did it surprise you that this was taken by a man? Why? No, our generation has grown up with everyone doing the washing up. It's surprising though that he's reflecting on it, which suggests some resentment and the fact that his wife is always out. I'd better be careful...
- In your opinion does gender contribute to the creation of an image? That depends on whether gender is a strong component of the artist's identity and desire to express. In my photography I don't think it is. I have seen very touching and emotional pieces of work by male photographers, so I also don't think the self-portraiture examples in the rest of Part Three by women are gender-specific, although of course men and women experience IVF in different ways. The series "Until we've met" by Shin Noguchi documenting his wife's pregnancy, time in hospital and the premature birth, which very sensitively shows the impact on their older child of "Mom" being in hospital, is just one example of male introspection.
- What does this series achieve by not including people? It creates a sense of mystery about the people. Is Ruth always out? You see evidence of things in the images, that give you clues about the people, but you don't know everything. The captions help, but also add more questions. As a form of self-portraiture, I prefer this method. The result is more challenging - I think it asks more questions.
- Do you regard them as interesting "still life" compositions? No, to me these aren't "still life" (unless he has deliberately set all this up?). In fact, in photography, I'm not sure I like "still life". I certainly don't make it, other than if I have to for a specific OCA exercise. To me, this is documentary work. Shafran is documenting how he feels about food and washing up, and how it seems to be with him where ever he goes. It seems to have a disproportionate weighting in his life.
- Until we've met by Shin Noguchi available from http://www.shinnoguchiphotography.com/photo/until_we_ve_met/ [accessed 1 February 2015]
- Washing Up by Nigel Shafran available from http://www.nigelshafran.com/pages/washing_up_pages/001washing_up_pages.html [accessed 1 February 2015]
Part Three - Putting yourself in the picture: Project Two - Masquerades: Exercise - Self-portraiture
This exercise is about the work of Nikki S. Lee and Trish Morrissey.
I have seen Lee's work before - I actually find it quite humorous. I looked at various projects that she's compiled (online) and like the way she has added authenticity to the images by making them look like family snapshots - presumably using a "point and shoot". Unfortunately, Lee does not appear to have her own sight, so I relied on a gallery site by Leslie Tonkonow. And as the course notes say about Morrisey, as you scroll through the images, withe Lee you also get the impression of a single character with multiple personas, and in each one she looks as if she naturally belongs there.
Morrisey, fortunately does have her own site, making it easier therefore to see the images; I looked through the images in the project called "Front". Knowing the background to these, I also found them humorous at first, but then after a while, I felt unsettled. Seeing her again and again, looking much more recognisable in each image that Lee's in her work, it got a bit weird. And, I wondered about swapping clothes and particularly swimwear with someone...yuck...
In both cases though - I found the photography interesting - Lee's work more so as she assumes distinctly different characters in her work than Morrisey. I'm not really sure what Morrisey is trying to say though - is it a commentary on the depth of family and whether relationships can be substituted?
The exercise asks us to answer some questions, as follows:
Websites
I have seen Lee's work before - I actually find it quite humorous. I looked at various projects that she's compiled (online) and like the way she has added authenticity to the images by making them look like family snapshots - presumably using a "point and shoot". Unfortunately, Lee does not appear to have her own sight, so I relied on a gallery site by Leslie Tonkonow. And as the course notes say about Morrisey, as you scroll through the images, withe Lee you also get the impression of a single character with multiple personas, and in each one she looks as if she naturally belongs there.
Morrisey, fortunately does have her own site, making it easier therefore to see the images; I looked through the images in the project called "Front". Knowing the background to these, I also found them humorous at first, but then after a while, I felt unsettled. Seeing her again and again, looking much more recognisable in each image that Lee's in her work, it got a bit weird. And, I wondered about swapping clothes and particularly swimwear with someone...yuck...
In both cases though - I found the photography interesting - Lee's work more so as she assumes distinctly different characters in her work than Morrisey. I'm not really sure what Morrisey is trying to say though - is it a commentary on the depth of family and whether relationships can be substituted?
The exercise asks us to answer some questions, as follows:
- Is there any sense in which Lee's work could be considered voyeuristic or even exploitative? Is she commenting on her own identity, the group identity of the people she photographs, or both? I don't think her work is voyeuristic. To me that suggests that the people you are watching are not aware and that it's secret and perhaps something is happening that is sensational. In her photos you can see clearly the happy participation of the subjects. These are staged scenes, not candid, and they represent normal every day situations, not stuff that goes on behind closed doors. I think she is commenting on her own identity and the group identities. She is making the point that identity is informed by your surroundings and the company you keep. We do not exist in isolation and most of us get a sense of belonging and settlement by being with people we share commonality with.
- Would you agree to Morrisey's request if you were enjoying a day on the beach with your family? If not, why not? Maybe, but definitely not swapping clothes. A day on the beach for me would consist of me, husband, dogs, elderly parents, may be sister, brother-in-law, nephews. Who would she swap with? Most likely my sister - she's the youngest adult. I could see it working out, but why would we want to do that? It's like structured photo-bombing but with the fun taken out of it. I can see the point she's trying to make, but in our collaboration, what point are we trying to make? That we can allow a stranger to infiltrate our family and turn us into art? Why does that seem worse than my approach to Street Photography?
- Morrissey uses self-portraiture in more of her work, namely Seven Years and The Failed Realist. Look at these projects online and make notes in your learning log. The Failed Realist is very strange and the captions do not help. The paint looks like child's face-painting gone wrong, which referring to Carol Street's article on the same exercise written up in her blog confirmed my fears, and like Street, I don't know what this series is trying to say. Seven Years is very much like Front; Morrissey appears to have infiltrated a family scene and swapped places with somebody taking on their role; in this one, I think she has also swapped with men. But, on further research, I discovered that she had in fact set up these scenes with her sister, to recreate traditional family photographs and also create imaginary ones. Odd that they are not smiling. Is this to recreate nostalgia?
Websites
- Leslie Tonkonow Artworks + Projects available from http://www.tonkonow.com/lee.html [accessed 1 February 2015]
- Masquerades in Carol Street Context and Narrative OCA Blog available from https://carolstreetphotographycn.wordpress.com/2015/01/14/exercise-masquerades/ [accessed 1 February 2015]
- Trish Morrisey available from http://www.trishmorrissey.com/ [accessed 1 February 2015]
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