Inside and outside.
Brick Lane, London
It’s curious how time transforms the meaning of a photograph. Today I took this one at 6:30pm. I thought it was the worst picture from a sequence of 10ish. At 11:30pm, I changed my mind and chose this one to work on. After some minutes of Photoshop, I decided it was acceptable, but insufficient. Now, 2:50am, I think I should print it. But maybe I will delete it tomorrow…
When it happens in a so reduced period, when the emotional and social circumstances doesn’t have time to change influencing my perception, I can only think that it is a matter of some kind of “visual mood”.
I didn’t know it exists…
Halloween – Victoria Park, London.
Edda – You lose touch when you lose your sense of identity, and that happened long ago. That’s why you always need proof, proof that you still exist. You treat your stories and experiences as if they were raw eggs, as if only you experience things. That’s why you keep taking these photos, for further proof that it was really you who saw something. That’s why you came here. So somebody would listen, listen to you and the stories you’re really telling yourself. It isn’t enough in the long run.
Philip – That’s true. Taking polaroids is a sort of proof. Waiting for a picture to develop, I’d often feel strangely uneasy. I could hardly wait to compare the picture with reality, but the pictures never caught up with reality…
E – You can’t stay here.
P – … I went on as if I were possessed.
E – You really are out of touch. I don’t want you to stay!
P – What? Are you serious?
E – Yes, my friend. I can’t help you.
“Alice in the Cities” – Dir: Wim Wenders, 1974.
Red Church Bar, London.
“The need to photograph – I keep expecting it to come to an end, but it doesn’t. There’s always the feeling that you’re just starting, like there’s much further to go. The need just intensifies (…) I think that if I got what I wanted from it I would stop. But it doesn’t work that way (…) You never get close enough.
– Close enough to what?
– To the experience. It’s never as powerful, never comes close to how the experience affects me (…) So there’s this need to go further. [I photograph] to break the barrier between me and what I’m looking for. To break the surface of reality, not for the sake of abstraction, but to go inside. I think if this happens, if you get close, then others will see themselves in it. I think if you’re honest about your relation to reality than it’s not just your reality anymore. Only in this sense I do believe in documentary”
Michael Ackerman, Fiction – 2001