Daido Moriyama (*) states in Daido Moriyama: Journey to Something (*):
It is not so much about the medium, as it is about the message.
The above quote came from a question relating to his preferences to shoot film or digital, where he responded:
Since three years I am using either film or digital. So I am not much concerned about the ways of the digital camera. Depending on the theme of what I would shoot.. if I feel like I want to shoot in film, I shoot in film. If I want to shoot digitally, I will do that.
The film finds Lance Armstrong climbing a mountain on a training ride.
Around him, fuelling him, are a peloton of voices.
These voices are the words of people all over the world making efforts in the spirit of LIVESTRONG.
As Lance Armstrong rides, the voices tell of people facing challenges, facing cancer, coming to grips with what's next, getting up and improving their lives, inspiring others and making amazing goals come to life all over the world.
In the end, the "engine" in the film is both Lance Armstrong and the meaning of LIVESTRONG in all these people's lives.
It's what can be accomplished together with the idea of living better and supporting each other all summed up with Nike and its message of human potential:
Murray Fredericks is an Australian Photographer. I was aware of him and his works from my foray into large format photography. I had bought a 4x5 inch large format camera in Shanghai in November 2004 (that's another story) and I needed to learn how to use it. Murray was offering a weekend workshop at a rural location in western NSW, near Oberon, and I had considered attending. With assistance of my friend Leigh Perry, I was able to work it all out and did not need to take Murray's workshop in the end. Some scans of my initial transparencies, by an Epson 4990 scanner, are here
When flying to Prague, on the flight to Prague from Helsinki on FinnAir, I was pleasantly surprised and delighted to read an English Newspaper (The Financial Times) that had a review of Murray's exhibition in London at the Hamiltons Gallery in Mayfair. I pulled out the page inflight and put it away with a mental note to make sure I would find the Gallery and view the Salt Exhibition when in London a few weeks later. Was very impressed to read that his photos were being compared to Turner paintings and that the largest and most expensive photo was being sold for 30,000 Pounds - pretty impressive for a humble landscape photographer who started his career as an Economist from Sydney University.
Blue Sky Thinking - Murray Fredericks - SALT II - A Newspaper Article found inflight between Helsinki and Prague - Sat 22 Aug 2009 - (picasa)
The day before the Great River Race, I had organised our seats on boats and I had time to do some sight seeing in London. I found the Gallery using Google Maps and made my way there on the Tube. I found the Gallery easily and chatted with the Gallery guy, who gave my a DVD of the SALT Documentary of his trip to Lake Eyre. Managed to sneak in a few photos before I left for the Photographers Gallery (yet another story), which was walking distance away (well maybe at least a couple hours rambling through the back streets of London).
Having been "the guy with a camera" at high school who took pictures of sports teams, Fredericks was a serious photographer with commercial and artistic ambitions in his mid-twenties. He shot what he calls traditional coffee table-style photos until he realised he wanted more from his work.
"I reached the point where I went through everything and went 'there's nothing new here'. All I'm doing is finding new angles and new locations but the message itself - and the way the message is delivered - isn't changing'," he says.
"So I went through everything again and I thought 'which images affect me differently?' and they were the images that conveyed a sense of space."
That discovery has taken Fredericks 14 times to Lake Eyre in outback South Australia in the past six years. His aim was to photograph the flat salt plain with its low horizon and lack of distinctive features.
Hauling his gear to the location by bicycle, he spent up to five weeks by himself trying to capture the nothingness. And when things changed, he wanted to capture that too.
"Everything happens on the cusp, on the change,'' he says. ''It's the transition periods that are interesting because that's when the stuff you can't imagine or you can't expect happens."
Fredericks's shots of land and sky have proven so popular there are three galleries - in Sydney, Melbourne and London - waiting for his new work.
.. it wasn’t until I viewed his film SALT, that I decided my roster couldn’t live without him. The film and the work had a spiritual element I had never really understood before then. It sounds rather dramatic to be speaking this way, doesn’t it? When the film comes out [..], I highly recommend that you immerse yourself in the landscape. It’s full of surprises.
My friend Leigh Perry shoots very similar photos, but typically from the shore of Sydney's coastline - see his portfolios: Invariance and Peripheral Vision. Beautiful photos ..
A great clip from the soon to be released movie In The Same Boat featuring Kamini Jain and the False Creek River Canoe Club (FCRCC).
I have another video coming that features Kamini talking about the stroke that you see in this clip (just follow the Kamini Jain tag to find the technique video).
Definitely worth looking at this clip in slow motion to see what is going on - watch for the Hinge, Rotation and the top hand position through the stroke. Over the last 12 months, my club has adopted some aspects of the stroke, so this is a great way to visualise the stroke. Lots to learn here.
Not sure when the film will be released, but there is a Facebook page which seems to be active as well as a blog and a twitter account (not so active). The catch cry for the film ..
In life and in sport, we paddle hard - young or old, warm or cold, rain or shine to the finish line, because we are, all of us, IN THE SAME BOAT.
"You have an illusion that the next one will be easier, but it's just a mind trick that we play on ourselves to find the motivation to keep going.
But it never is easy. Feelings or emotions emerge, things that you can't plan, suddenly a film begins to take a life and path of its own. You have to surrender and give yourself up to the journey and see where you are arriving.
Gained a couple of insights from watching this movie and then having a look around the web where I found a couple of good reviews written by Grief Counsellors:
In fact, part of the process of grief is to find one’s “new normal.”
Conversely, as we change, our grief changes.
As Leah’s mother eloquently describes it, grief is like a brick in one’s pocket – we always feel it, but over time it feels less heavy. After some time, we can actually forget that it’s there sometimes, but memories come back, and we feel the brick again.
Had kind of worked this out for myself (i.e. in order to move forward, you need to adapt, otherwise you can get stuck) and was actually going to write about it to mark the 2nd anniversary of this little Blog, which passed quietly while I was in Auckland for the Takapuna Cup. In the end I did not get around to posting (happens a lot - only a fraction of what I would like to post makes it here - have started so many posts that never quite get finished).
Anyway, what I had thought I would write about for that unwritten 2nd Anniversay Post was how my life (and is some ways my identity) had changed since that first post on the Wed 25 Feb 2009 and how I thought the blog might give some indication to what I am passionate about, who I was , the transition to who I have become and where I am heading, at least in the short-term.
I have enjoyed the Blogging. It has given me a creative outlet and has kept my mind stimulated. It is fun to look over what I have written. Like a photograph, I can remember the feelings and the reasons why I might have written the post.
Finally, as Ken Burns said at the 2004 Commencement Yale Class Day Speech (as pdf):
Write: write letters. Keep journals. Besides your children, there is no surer way of achieving immortality. Remember, too, there is nothing more incredible than being a witness to history.
Untitled - Lower East Side / New York (Wed 17 Aug 2011)
Martin Harrison (*) writes on Saul Leiter (*), Color Photography (*) and embracing the Unpredictable (*):
Yet he found ways to circumvent these restrictions - exploiting the color distortions in outdated film stock and embracing the unpredictable color rendition in emulsions available from some of the smaller manufacturers. His openness to the accidental, and willingness to forgo the photographer's legendary control, are crucial components of Leiter's ethos, anticipating precepts that remained exceptional, even among photography's avante-garde, until the advent of postmodernism in the 1970's.
via SAUL LEITER Early Color (*) by Martin Harrison (*).
Memories of Jenny - The Time of Your Life (youtube)
As many of you will know, I have another obsession in my life beyond paddling - Photography.
I started out buying a small digital camera for our Dec 2000 trip to the Cook Islands to visit Jenny and Jo's Meditation teacher, Barbara, who had moved there to help setup a refuge for women . We didn’t know a thing about paddling back then.
I had bought the camera hoping I would be able to capture our memories. It was a tiny digital camera by today’s standards, 1 Mega Pixel and it cost $1600 duty free and a 64 MB compact flash memory cost more than $300.
I did not flinch and I thought it was all worth it, as my credit card was swiped at Ted’s Pitt Street Camera Store the day before we flew out. 15 years later I can tell you here that it was one of the best things I ever did.
My motivation for the camera came from that fact that Jenny had 11 tumours in her lungs and I did not really know how long we would have together. In the end we had just over 9 years of married life. Given Jenny’s condition, a miracle really ..
We were married on 30th April of that Sydney Olympic year and we honeymooned on Lord Howe Island for 10 glorious days in May 2000. Jenny had a film camera and she took many photos.
On our return flight to Sydney, I remember a conversation we had at the Departure Terminal with an older couple from Whyalla who congratulated us on our marriage. We had briefly met them at dinner at one of the small restaurants on the Island.
They told us they had been married for many years and the trip to Lord Howe Island was a way of creating another experience in life and expanding their memories. Better than [running a busy business or] sitting at home and watching the Telly, they said.
This conversation and piece of simple worldly wisdom has stuck with me and I remind myself of it constantly. It was my main motivation to buy that small expensive digital camera for our December 2000 trip to the Cook Islands.
I took many photos that trip to Cook Islands, even of the Outrigger Canoes on the shore of Muri Lagoon - we had no idea what they were – who would guess our future.
Shortly after our return, Jenny and Jo found Dragon Boating. And over the ensuing years many experiences and memories were created, dutifully captured by our cameras.
I documented the many dragon boat campaigns here and abroad, and ensuing holidays that followed each event.
In the process of this documenting I came to realise the power of photography, not only its visual power, but its ability to record our experiences and remind us of things we have done and who we were. We were doing selfies before the term was even invented. We called them “Holdouts” and I think this might be the main cause of Jo’s shoulder injury.
In those last few weeks at St George Hospital in Jun 2009, I captured the last moments of our lives together. They are the best I ever made.
After Jenny’s passing, It took me a while to pick up a camera again. I had lost my purpose and will. I was hurting and numb all at once but paddled through for a year or two – it helped a lot to be busy and in the company of friends. New experiences were created and I even smiled [for] a little [while].
Lost in the enormity of what had happened so quickly, though it was not a surprise, I found my first moments of comfort and hope, when I decided to start looking at some of the photos from our lives together. It made me cry, but it also made me smile. I was so happy that I had this archive of bits and bytes to remind me of Jenny, Joanne, myself and who we were.
It was only after Jo told me to organise my photos and my Mum said I should start making photos again, that I started to move forward. I was completely broken but I took up their advice and kept myself busy again, organising and photographing again. I am still broken but I live with it better now, it is part of me and who I will always be, but I am happy, optimistic, naïve and creating more experiences.
So I guess what I am trying to say is that we have to go out there and make our memories through the experiences we create for ourselves.
In our lives we have loss, grief and bereavement. It is a part of living. You make a choice when it knocks on your door. And we have chosen to live in the Afterglow of our loss of Jenny – to remember and honour and be guided and inspired. Accept it and live with it and make the most of it, even let it inspire and motivate you. And that is what Jo and I have done, I would like to think.
“Believe in Hope” as the graffiti’ed wall in Cleveland Street said for a few weeks in July 2015.
Believe in Hope - Cleveland Street / Chippendale (Wed 29 Jul 2015)
Seven year ago today.
We remember Jenny. She (as they all do) lives on through our memories.
Norm (a few weeks before he suddenly passed away), Jo, Margaret, Geoff and Jenny - Graduation - Masters Degree in Accounting - Town Hall / Sydney (May 1992)
Anzac Day here in Australia. Jo and I have just been for a long paddle in the rain under and around the Anzac Bridge.
Always think of this song on Anzac Day. I remember hearing this back in the early 1990's. Whenever I hear it now, I think of Jenny and Joanne's Father, Norm. I was always invited around to the Petterson Home for lunch on Anzac Day (I would have three Anzac Days with Norm before he passed away suddenly in June 1992) and there would always be Anzac Biscuits with a tea or coffee for afterwards. Joanne has made a batch for today, so the tradition continues.
Random Recollection follows: Was lucky enough to hear Midnight Oil play this song live in April 1990. I was the only member of the audience ..
I played hockey for most of my life and back in the late 1980's and early 1990's we started playing on a synthetic surface, rather than the traditional grass. The only fields in Sydney at the time were at Homebush (the site and surrounding area would host the Sydney 2000 Olympics).
The only other sporting facility at Homebush at time was the State Sports Centre which had a number of sports halls for playing basketball and many other indoor sports.
After finishing a week night training session with my club, Sydney Uni, I could hear live music being played in one of the sports hall. It was early in the season and it was still warm. The doors to the Hall adjoining the hockey field was open, so I had a look.
At the far end of the Hall was a band playing - it was Midnight Oil rehearsing for an upcoming tour. I sat down, leant against the wall. They appeared to not notice me or did not care. As the lone audience member, I just sat back, thought how lucky I was, and watched and listened to Midnight Oil rehearse a number of songs.
This song, the Forgotten Years was one of them. It stood out to me and I liked it immediately (still do). It was the first time I had heard it and I remember telling Jenny about my good fortune and hearing all their big hits of the time (eg Beds are Burning). I told her about this song, which I had not heard before.
I don't know exactly when, but I know this song started to get some air play and I saw the above film clip which seems to give the song even more meaning.
Here are the lyrics ..
Forgotten Years Lyrics
Few of the sins of the father Are visited upon the son Hearts have been hard Hands have been clenched into fists too long
Our sons need never be soldiers Our daughters will never need guns These are the years between These are the years that were hard fought and won
Contracts torn at the edges Old signatures stained with tears Seasons of war and grace These should not be forgotten years
Still it aches like tetanus It reeks of politics How many dreams remain? This is a feeling too strong to contain
The hardest years, the darkest years The roarin' years, the fallen years These should not be forgotten years The hardest years the wildest years The desperate and divided years Our shoreline was never invaded Our country was never in flames This is the calm we breathe This is a feeling too strong to contain
Still it aches like tetanus It reeks of politics Signatures stained with tears Who can remember, we've got to remember
The hardest years, the darkest years... Forsaking aching breaking years The time 'n' tested heartbreak years These should not be forgotten years
The blinded years, the binded years The desperate and divided years These should not be forgotten years Remember
As someone said ..
This is simply a song about remembering the sacrifice made by all soldiers during war.
Hope impacts our internal narrative acting like the aperture of a camera’s lens controlling the amount of light reaching the film. It makes us more resourceful, fuels our resilience and strengthens our resolve. We might not have the ability to alter the scene but we can change our perspective.
Memories of Jenny - The Time of Your Life (youtube)
This is my 2000th post here at eljeiffel.
I always try to write something for the Annual Presentation of the Inspire Award. Most times it is just for me, but sometimes I share it with a few people.
So here it is, unedited from the time it was written on the evening of Fri 27 Aug 2015. I think it is a pretty good way to mark the milestone.
As many will know, I have another obsession in my life - Photography.
I started out buying a small digital camera for our Dec 2000 trip to the Cook Islands to visit Jenny and Jo's Meditation teacher, Barbara, who had moved there to help setup a refuge for women . We didn’t know a thing about paddling back then.
I had bought the camera hoping I would be able to capture our memories. It was a tiny digital camera by today’s standards, 1 Mega Pixel and it cost $1600 duty free and a 64 MB compact flash memory cost more than $300.
I did not flinch and I thought it was all worth it, as my credit card was swiped at Ted’s Camera Store the day before we flew out. 15 years later I can tell you here that it was one of the best things I ever did.
My motivation for the camera came from that fact that Jenny had 11 tumours in her lungs and I did not really know how long we would have together. In the end we had just over 9 years of married life. Given Jenny’s condition, a miracle really ..
We were married on 30th April of that Sydney Olympic year and we honeymooned on Lord Howe Island for 10 glorious days in May 2000. Jenny had a film camera and she took many photos.
On our return flight to Sydney, I remember a conversation we had at the Departure Terminal with an older couple from Whyalla who congratulated us on our marriage. We had briefly met them at dinner at one of the small restaurants on the Island.
They told us they had been married for many years and the trip to Lord Howe Island was a way of creating another experience in life and expanding their memories. Better than [running a busy business or] sitting at home and watching the Telly, they said.
This conversation and piece of simple worldly wisdom has stuck with me and I remind myself of it constantly. It was my main motivation to buy that small expensive digital camera for our December 2000 trip to the Cook Islands.
I took many photos that trip to Cook Islands, even of the Outrigger Canoes in the lagoon at Aitutaka, we had no idea what they were – who would guess our future.
Shortly after our return, Jenny and Jo found Dragon Boating. And over the ensuing years many experiences and memories were created, dutifully captured by our cameras.
I documented the many dragon boat campaigns here and abroad, and ensuing holidays that followed each event.
In the process of this documenting I came to realise the power of photography, not only its visual power, but its ability to record our experiences and remind us of things we have done and who we were. We were doing selfies before the term was even invented. We called them “Holdouts” and I think this might be the main cause of Jo’s shoulder injury.
In those last few weeks at St George Hospital in Jun 2009, I captured the last moments of our lives together. They are the best I ever made.
After Jenny’s passing, It took me a while to pick up a camera again. I had lost my purpose and will. I was hurting and numb all at once but paddled through for a year or two – it helped a lot to be busy and in the company of friends. New experiences were created and I even smiled [for] a little [while].
Lost in the enormity of what had happened so quickly, though it was not a surprise, I found my first moments of comfort and hope, when I decided to start looking at some of the photos from our lives together. It made me cry, but it also made me smile. I was so happy that I had this archive of bits and bytes to remind me of Jenny, Joanne, myself and who we were.
It was only after Jo told me to organise my photos and my Mum said I should start making photos again, that I started to move forward. I was completely broken but I took up their advice and kept myself busy again, organising and photographing again. I am still broken but I live with it better now, it is part of me and who I will always be, but I am happy, optimistic, naïve and creating more experiences.
So I guess what I am trying to say is that we have to go out there and make our memories through the experiences we create for ourselves. And this is what I love about PD’s, we are always out there doing something. This time last year we were in Bologna on our way to Ravena, this year we are heading to Hawaii in the next week and month, next year Adelaide and who knows where after that.
Finally, in our lives we have loss, grief and bereavement. It is a part of living. You make a choice when it knocks on your door. And we have chosen to live in the Afterglow of our loss of Jenny – to remember and honour and be guided and inspired. Accept it and live with it and make the most of it, even let it inspire and motivate you. And that is what Jo and I have done, I would like to think.
“Believe in Hope” as the graffiti’ed wall in Cleveland Street said for a few weeks in July 2015.
Believe in Hope - Cleveland Street / Chippendale (Wed 29 Jul 2015)
With this post it is time to let go of a lot things, including the photos of another time and life. I have shed my life here (and Facebook more recently) like a snake sheds it skin and there is nothing left but to start over again. Time to move on, but it is hard to let go .. but I will.
Trying to make a new start here (arotlt.com) with photos from this point onwards. There will be the occasional post at eljeiffel to mark the odd moment in our lives that are relevant, but for now thanks for coming along for the ride these last, almost, 7 years.
Bloody Gum - Royal National Park (Sun 28 Jan 2001)
I took this photo 10 years to the minute (Blogger's time is 19 hours behind Sydney time). It was the first photo that I took with my little IXUS that I thought was more than just a record of an event or a place (and BTW there is nothing the matter with that).
It was a Sunday, the last day of a long weekend (Australia Day was Friday). Jenny and I decided to do a Sunday afternoon drive down into the Royal National Park and end up at Stanwell Top to watch the hang gliders and to have an ice cream.
Along the way we stopped to look at various features and land marks, mainly the coast line.
For some reason I randomly pulled up into a small dirt parking area along the road in a forested area of the Park. I was drawn to the large Gum Trees at the edge of the parking area and noticed the sap oozing from the bark.
Looking at the photos I took that day, most were of the trees from a distance. The above photo was the only one I took up close to the trees. I set the camera to macro mode and I am pretty sure I would have held the camera about 15 to 20 cm from the side of the tree. I remember getting back to Sylvania and looking through the photos from that day and this was the one that caught my eye. It was beyond anything I had captured up til then.
Around the same time I found photo.net and this was one of the first photo's I submitted to my portfolio. Amazingly, I received a number of critiques which were very helpful and they helped guide me along my photographic journey, particularly this one:
this is a great piece. My only complaint is it's on digital. It would make a wonderful Ilfochrome if it were on film -- gallery quality. Matthew Kees (22 Sep 2001).
In many ways the photo and the positive feedback I received help me explore photography in a way I had never expected when I first bought the little camera a few months earlier.
I have tagged many of the photos I have taken with the little IXUS, here. Many have become my Favourite Photo's, which I have randomly rambled about on this blog over the last year or so.
Makes me wonder where the last 10 years have gone.
Finally, if I have added up correctly this should be my 300th post.
Really enjoyed this film (more so than Rabbit Hole). Happy to make my own mind up on this one. Don't really care what the critics or the majority of the viewers say. Will touch people in many different ways and will probably be a function of their own life experiences.
If you can dream it, you can do it Jenny's Meditation Room / Kirrawee (Thu 30 Jun 2011)
I often receive very nice emails, particularly around the anniversary of Jenny's passing. Lexie has allowed me to share my return email to her. It tells a nice story ..
From: Geoff Eldridge To: Lexie
7:37am Fri 01 Jul 2011
Hi Lexie. Thanks for your kind message and thoughts. Jo and I really appreciate them and your friendship.
We had a nice day yesterday as we honored Jenny's memory and reflected on her Life.
Sounds like you are having a fantastic time and it was great to have had those moments at Niagara Falls to remember your Dad there and for his parting words to come to you strongly.
Jenny and Jo visited Niagara Falls in 1987 and Jo and I were only talking about this the other day. I can remember Jenny telling me about their visit the first night we went out way back on Fri 30 March 1989. She showed me photos that were rescued from a water logged film camera (it was drenched from their Maidens of the Mist Tour in and around the Falls.
Last week I have moved back to Kirrawee where I lived with Jenny. It has been hard in many ways, but it is something I need to do. The house is exactly the same as it was when I took her to the St George Private Hospital on Tue 16 Jun 2009 (*)).
Yesterday morning as I got up and prepared myself so that I could meet Jo and my Mother at the St George Private Hospital (so we could be at the place and time where she left us (*) - we do this each year), I found flip-book of sayings on the bookshelf. She turned it each day and would put a different saying up. The one she left it on and I take it as her parting message (because we did not have a chance to say our farewells):
"If you can Dream it, you can do it!"
I would like to think that Jo and I have done this since Jenny left us, afterall as we now know, it was her parting wish for us all..
Jenny and Joanne - Maiden of the Mist Tour - Niagara Falls (Jul 1987)
Niagara Falls (Jul 1987)
Jenny and Joanne - Maiden of the Mist Tour - Niagara Falls (Jul 1987)
Jenny - Maiden of the Mist Tour - Niagara Falls (Jul 1987)
Jo - Maiden of the Mist Tour - Niagara Falls (Jul 1987)
Alice in Wonderland - Central Park / New York (Apr 1994)
The above was taken on a disposable panorama format (*) 35mm Kodak camera on my last trip to New York way back in 1994.
Made sure to photograph 'Alice' on my next trip to New York, 17 years later using my little Canon S95 digital camera. Who would have thought 17 years ago that cameras would record photographs in bits and bytes and stored electronically, rather than film.
Alice in Wonderland - Central Park / New York (Mon 15 Aug 2011)
Lots of things have changed in New York and our lives, but some things will always remain the same. These two photos taken 17 years apart are proof of this for sure.
I wonder what future holds for us, particularly with regard to technology. I remember reading a computer magazine on my return flight back to Sydney in 1994, where I read for the first time about and Internet web browser called Mosaic (*), Netscape's predecessor. At the time I was a member of Compuserve, but had never ventured onto the Internet and the world wide web.
I hope it is not another 17 years before I get back New York.
John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum (*) - Boston (*) [Mon 22 Aug 2011]
The Museum had not changed too much in 23 years since I was last there on my first visit to Boston in Sep 1988. This is my favourite photo from both visits. I love the complexity, contrast, colour, light and mostly the shadows on the white concrete wall to the left.
The way I see has changed a lot since those early days when I travelled with Pentax K1000 that was a gift from my Family for my 21st birthday back in 1981. I still have the K1000 and it would be fun to get it out and shoot a few rolls of film to see what comes out.
Love my little Canon S95 (*) [the most recent version being the Canon S110 (*)] which I bought in Jan 2011. It has taken just over 22,000 photos and is still going strong. It (*) has been to New Zealand (*), USA 2011(*), Hong Kong 2012(*), Korea 2012(*) and Japan 2012(*). It fits easily into my pocket and it goes everywhere with me. I have recently printed a few of the photos to 30x20 inch (*) and they are crystal clear.
Trent Parke - Google Blog Search Result - My Google Reader - Fri 17 Dec 2010
Most days I will get one or two alerts come through on my Google Reader. Normally, they don't lead to anything interesting or something I don't already know about him. However, I received an alert that quickly drew my attention. It was titled:
A bit of a ramble to follow. I have known of Geoff Dyer for sometime. At least since around the time of the publication of his book, the The Ongoing Moment (Guardian Review - 16 Oct 2005). A novel and rather modest approach to writing about photography - he claims that he does not even own a camera:
"I am not a photographer ... I don't even own a camera."
I enjoyed the book and appreciated his knowledge of photography. In particular I enjoyed his writing style and the metaphors he used to get his ideas across - you will see this in his article on Trent.
[on writing about the book, The Seventh Wave] The surface of the sea is a film separating two worlds, that of water and that of air. Though absolute the distinction is perpetually on the brink of dissolving, melting away. People fly through the water as if suspended in a turbulent sky, or float through great clouds of aquatic light. That’s what water is for Parke and Autio – liquid light. Forms dissolve, blur, swim into and out of focus. Quick and silver, the water is a flash-flood of mercury.
On to Trent Parke. I have followed his progress since he was photographer with the Sydney Morning Herald back in the early 2000's. He had two photos in the first Sydney Looking Forward Exhibtion back in 2002. I wrote about one of the photos here. Indeed the post is one of the more popular pages residing in my little blog.
In 2003 I bought two copies of the two books he had published at that stage:
Both books appear to be long out of print, by the looks of the Amazon Used Books prices.
Looks like I have done alright with these purchases (they were about $50 each from the Stills Gallery). I could not help myself other than to buy two copies of each. They were just beautiful. I have a soft/weak spot for photography books. I can remember catching the train after work, upto Kings Cross and then walking into Paddington to the Stills Gallery. I took quite a few photos with my litte IXUS. Must drag them out of the archive to find out the exact date of purchase of the books. A job for another day.
I will close with a quote from Geoff Dyer's article on Trent:
Later works will continue but intensify the Dream/Life vision so that, at its most extreme, Sydney becomes a kind of ghost city, in the process of being annihilated by light. A passer-by will be transformed into an accidental super-hero: Solar-man, a bleached absence of pure radiance! (Part of the fascination of this picture is of the photographer-as-magician kind: how did he do that? The difference between magic and photography is that the spell remains unbroken even when the technical explanation - which, in any case, I cannot recall - is forthcoming. [GeoffE: maybe some discussion here will help: How is this done? (Trent Parke) at photo.net - 31 Mar 2004)]
White Man, 2001 - Circular Quay/Sydney (GeoffE: at guess!) - Trent Parke
An article by the Sydney Morning Herald's Tim Clayton giving some background to the working environment that Trent Parke evolved.
A Little Peek - George Street / Sydney (Thu 14 Mar 2013)
Carol Vogel (*) writes On Photography (*) and it's rise in the Art World:
photography has changed drastically over the years, becoming more and more ingrained in everyday life through the Internet and Photoshop, smartphones and devices like iPads.
via The Lens Rises in Stature (*) by Carol Vogel (*).
Lots of interesting quotes in this article, which is a kind of milestone article for photography. Here are a few of the quotes I liked ..
Now everyone’s a photographer, [..] It’s part of the language of what we do. All you have to do is walk down the street. And with Facebook or Tumblr there are infinite possibilities. But museums should be devoted to the original thing. That will continue to give the public a reason to see what’s here.
There’s a hungry audience of people who want to see photography shows”
and he adds, the reason for photography’s popularity is simple:
It’s accessible.”
Quentin Bajac (*) notes a new direction in Photography Curation:
I’m thinking of photography within a far broader context - with film and painting, architecture and drawing - making connections that show it to be equal in status with all the arts.
