At big construction sites there are always huge piles of stuff lying around; hardcore, earth, rubble, debris. Some of theser are massive, the size of a hill. I like looking at them and take pictures of them but hardly ever feel inclined to climb to the top and survey the view from on high. But on the other hand whenever I come across a deep excavation I always make my way down into it. Nothing pre-planned about going down into them to try and get a particular point of view or anything, it's just an inevitable response.
I'm reading Haruki Murakami's 'Norwegian Wood' at the mo and have been remembering 'Wind Up Bird Chronicle' which I read a decade or so ago. The first half recounts in tremendous detail the banal existance of a man who has been abandoned first by his cat and then by his wife, as life unwinds, and he is swept along by the push and pull of chance encounters. One of the most vivid details is of him spending increasingly more time at the bo…
The way I go in to site B (through a hole in the fence, up an embankment) leads me to a viewpoint between some bushes at the top. I am nervous about becoming too blasé about tresspassing here and try and make myself take a long careful look from the vantage point ot those bushes to see if there is anyone around before I descend and start taking photographs. Before arriving in the vicinity today I heard no heavy plant engines and was fairly sure no-one was there working, but it's a big site and it's hard to see every corner, sooner or later I'll come unstuck.
This cherry tree. Well I've occasionally photographed it for three years now. I pass it on the way down. It's beautiful. Admittedly photographers are suckers for the complication of lines of branches of trees, but then again Pollack's drip-paintings perhaps touched upon this appeal. In photos I like the way it can be like an overlay, a living organic form, onto the background of disrupted earthworks,…
Impressively well organised archive of the work of Twyla Tharp
Description YLFYFFYYFFFMPMPPPPP PW was
created while Tharp's company was in residence at Sullins College, a
women's university. The piece contained a solo for Figueroa which was
danced twice: first topless, then bottomless. The other three dancers
wore costumes that could be simply manipulated such as by rolling up a
pant leg or sleeve. It was during rehearsals that the faculty found out about
the nudity and reported it to the president of the college, a man. He
would not allow those sections to be performed. Before the premiere,
Tharp introduced the piece, explaining that the nudity was not
gratuitous but an integral part of the dance. Therefore, when those
sections were to occur, the dancers would stop and mark time for
the duration of each. After the piece finished, Tharp conferred with the dancers
and announced that they would perform again. The censored sections
would be included and if anyone felt th…
Format Festival is spread over two dozen venues and I managed to get around nearly all of them (I'm still recovering). There was a lot to see. By the end I had occasional moments when I was unsure what was real and what was an image - was that my foot I was looking at or someone's photograph of a foot. Blimey.
It was worth it for TWO outstanding things and a couple more were pretty good. One of those BIG moments was stumbling (the building was an old workshop and was crumbling so stumbling was de riguer) into Artsmith Live at 109 Monk Street after an exhaustive effort to recover from a slightly disastrous navigation error. Unlike pretty much anything else this was art using photography, rather than straight photography. On the floor were three wood frame constructions holding semi-translucent mirrored panels (regular rectangles apart from a shard cut from one edge), acute triangles seemed important. And a slice of a snapshot photograph.
The big boxed book thing is back. I had finished printing it up several weeks ago and with the little bit of ink left in the cartridges knocked out one 44 page section to send to Grimaldi Gallery (I had always enjoyed their shows when I used to get down to London regularly). Even though I very much doubt they would welcome random submissions I had started work on a covering letter to go with it.
The first draft probably only took a couple of hours. Subsequent re-writes occupied me for an hour or two most of the subsequent evenings for a week and then I set it aside and only very occasionally had another go since then. Until today. Today I put in a five hour shift, attempting to shift it from rambling, incoherent rubbish to concise, articlate rubbish. I used a massive font and filled TWO PAGES and included a photo as a covering image to make it THREE PAGES IN TOTAL.
The printer made it through two of those pages and then - the only time this has ever happened - completely packed i…