Gueorgui Pinkhassov
Ueno tube station (c) Guergui Pinkhassov
Magnum’s newsletter this week featured this image by Gueorgiu Pinkhassov. After being overwhelmed by photos over the past year and a half, it is becoming rarer and rarer to find one that really strikes emotion. This image, I almost don’t care what it is about; the bright pastels, the cinematic feel… I love it and want it on my wall.
There is not much written about Gueorgiu, he seems to be slightly overlooked compared to other Magnum photographers. But I found this beautifully written analysis of his work by one CD Thacker, responding to a lively debate on photo.net in April 2004:
In my view Pinkhassov’s approach to photography is that of the true filmmaker: deeply personal and particularly cinematic. He brings a wide sweep to the small format. His pictures are for me like frames from an immense film, one which comes from a singular, intense vision of the world about us and the world within. Perhaps one of his closest aesthetic contemporaries is Fellini. But whereas much of the fun of Fellini lies in the surreality and absurdity of the real, Pinkhassov has much more in common with another grand auteur, Tarkovsky, from whom he obviously took much. Here is a quote from Tarkovsky that sounds like a prescription for a book like Pinkhassov’s Sightwalk.
“The image is tied to the concrete and the material, yet reaches out along mysterious paths to regions beyond the spirit…”
The new metro (c) Gueorgui Pinkhassov
Car park at shopping mall (c) Gueorgui Pinkhassov
- London, UK, 4 degrees Celsius on a cool, clear early evening, listening to Dave Matthews’ “Crash into me” (nostalgia today)
Ian Aleksander Adams’s mother & lessons on fear
I am not sure how but I came across the work of Ian Aleksander Adam the other day. His photography is beautiful but what really caught me is that he writes a lot about photography.
He published this blog post of his mother’s letter to him about his photography. I absolutely love my mother, but its true that she may not know me very well, or has a quite altered perception of who I am based on our relationship. So its very interesting to read Ian’s mother’s approach to his work, which he finds surprising and quite opposite to his intention. He writes:
In this response, it’s interesting to think about what comes from her struggles and our relationship and how she applies that to the images I’ve created. Or applies it to her image of me – is it an accurate depiction? I think that a lot more people see me as a goofy guy, not someone dark and broody. Those that know my attitude toward art are familiar with my fondness of visual jokes. Bitterness towards established visual trends is usually dealt with in dark humor, not necessarily dark spirits.
From the series "Gray Days" © Ian Aleksander Adams
From the series "Gray Days" © Ian Aleksander Adams
Made me think of my friend, Julian Lass’ work about his mother’s memory. And Jim Goldberg’s approach of having his subjects write on the picture he takes of them. The idea of having others engage with the photography rather than simply be ’subjects’ is very intriguing. I had thought about doing something along these lines when I was in Almeria but at the time I was too focused on the project I was working on. Something I found interesting was how people wanted to appear in the portraits I took. Often, I gave very little direction because they would already have the perfect spot picked out, or I would have to wait for a bit while they got ready. It would have been so interesting to sit down with them after and talk about the image and the contradictions within and outside of it. Perhaps the next time I go back.
Combe, Roquetas de Mar © Marcia Chandra
Going back to Ian’s work, he recently wrote an essay for Ahorn Magazine on “Fear and Photography” where he talks about the innate fear of losing precious images and whether we, as photographers, do not really experience moments because we are so busy recording them. He does this interesting exercise with his beginner photography students: he asks them to use up a roll of film (which he gives them) and at the next class they develop the film together only to find that there is absolutely nothing on it. After he gets them to calm down, he gets them to talk about the images and “they learn from each other, they talk about the subject matter they photographed, their feelings of loss, whether the memories of those moments are more or less clear for this experience.” He goes on to talk about how his own lack of fear caused him to go back to film so he could experience excitement again, which is something I completely understand.
I make sure to live in the moment while photographing it, because I don’t know which memory will be more important to me as experienced or archived. And I am scared every time I drop off my film. I cringe when I pick it up and rejoice at the surprises that find me. I fear my mistakes and I embrace and love that fear. Even though I no longer think of uncaptured time as lost, since I know I was there without “proof,” it has helped me appreciate the moments, images of moments, that I have found.
See his website here.
- London, UK, a cool 7 degrees tonight, listening to The Cinematic Orchestra’s “Burn Out”
Exhibition images
28 stories came down two weeks ago. It was such an intense but great experience, everything from planning it to partying after it was over. The LCC Gallery is huge and was such a great space to show our work. For me, it was just nice to have my work up on the wall (for the first time) and talk to people about it. I had the chance to engage with some very interesting people on the opening night who posed thoughtful questions about what Im going to do with the work and what Im going to work on next… hmm… answers I didnt quite have at the time… Important, though. I’ve got some ideas now and I’ll try to share them as they take shape. For now, some images of my exhibition (courtesy of Marta Moreiras and Francesco Stelitano).
- london, uk, 1 degrees Celsius, on a crisp evening, listening to Yelle “ACDG” Remix
Grain day
I just spent the whole day in the darkroom doing contact sheets for the 20 rolls of film I finally developed a few weeks ago. Nothing beats film. There is just so much excitement and suprise to see what actually comes out… no slaving over a computer burning your eyes out… and the reward of finding a few gems amidst a carefully shot roll… These are two of my favourites today, shot in Slovenia in July 2009 on my new/old Mamiya 7. I think I am completely different photographer with this camera. I love it.
- london, uk, 5 degress celsius on a cool evening, listening to the clickety clack of fingernails of keyboards
Exhibition: Jim Goldberg’s ‘Open See’
I finally had a chance to see ‘Open See’ at The Photographer’s Gallery this weekend. I really love Jim Goldberg’s work and his experimental approach to storytelling and I particularly wanted to see this exhibition because of the theme on migration in/to Europe, very relevant to my Almeria work.
The exhibition was interesting, not only for the content, but for Goldberg’s unconventional approach to documentary photography. There is a mix of black and white, colour, large and medium format, and polaroid images. Many of the images have been drawn on in felt pen by the people he’s photographed–they write who they are, where they have been and how they feel, faces scratched out, coloured lines tracing bodies for no clear reason. Even the exhibition itself is unconventional with varied sizes, frames, and techniques, including a display case showing some pages of Goldberg’s journal notes along with ‘evidence’ he has collected.
I really like the way the whole project is put together, particularly in the way the project succeeds not in explaining migration in Europe but dynamically exploring its complicated, and often, contradictory, purpose, meaning and identity. It is partly what I was hoping to do with my own project and Im eager to explore this type of storytelling more.
In a recent interview in Huck Magazine, he mentioned he works with two Polaroid cameras, a Mamiya 7, a Leica, a 4×5 Linhof camera with a couple different backs (Polaroid and film), various types of digital cameras and a video camera! I like the idea of documentary projects being able to work using a variety of photographic tools. This makes more sense in an approach where photography is a tool rather than the purpose.
My biggest regret is not having bought the book when I had the chance in November. Back then it was 30 quid, now it is completely out of print and selling for over 100 pounds on Amazon. If Steidl ever has a reprint Ill be lining up. For now, Im planning to go see the exhibition again before it closes on the 17th.
- London, UK, 1 degree, cold overcast night, listening to Charlie Hunter Quartet f. Mos Def’s “Creole”
Permanently temporary (passing time in a plastic sea)
This is my latest edit from my work in Almeria. These pictures will be exhibited at my MA Final Show, 28 stories (opening Wednesday night at the Private View!).
Short description:
This project explores dynamics and contradictions in the lives of African immigrants living and working in the plastic sea of greenhouses in Almeria, Spain. While looking for opportunities to help them achieve the dreams that led them to Europe, social, economic and legal barriers often force them to depend on the greenhouse industry for longer than they expect. Although they continue to believe in moving on, their lives slowly become more rooted as time passes.
Dawn in the 'plastic sea', Santa Maria de Aguila
I’ll be posting the book with more details soon…
- London, rainy evening, 9 degrees, listening to Miles Davis “So What”
Exhibition: 28 stories starting tomorrow!
Come check out the LCC MA Photojournalism & Documentary Photography exhibition tomorrow at the London College of Communication, Elephant & Castle, London!!
28 exciting works are up, including my work in Almeria this year, Permanently temporary (passing time in a plastic sea).
Looking forward to seeing you there! More info and details: www.28stories.co.uk.
- London, UK, rainy evening, 9 degrees, listening to Bob Dylan’s “Rock Me, Mama”
Nan Goldin
Cookie 1983 © Nan Goldin
My photography, in the end, didn’t do enough. It didn’t save Cookie. But over time, my photographs, and other photography about people with AIDS, has helped. It has definitely given a more human face to statistics. We need to keep putting images out there. But not ones that are digitally manipulated like almost everyone is doing now. In two years, there’ll be no more Cibachrome, supposedly. I hate digital images. We need to have reality instead of this believable-fiction crap that’s become so popular.
Nan Goldin, “Nan Goldin on Cookie Mueller” published on AmericansuburbX
- london, 8 degrees overcast night
images seen today
Rhonda and Chantelle © Graham Miller
Trees and benches © Jeff Seltzer
(via Hey, Hot Shot! Blog)
- London, overcast and 9 degrees, listening to a song from ‘Amelie’ on this “catnip” video
Notes: Mar de Plastico y Esperanzas (Sea of Plastic and Hope)
Sorry I have been relatively silent but I have been back in Almeria, Spain, for almost 4 weeks now continuing on the project about African immigrants working in the greenhouse industry. I wrote about this earlier in April here. I have one more week left before heading back to London and trying to sort through everything to prepare for an exhibition in December. Read on for a brief about the project…
Background
Almeria is a curious place for two key reasons: the ’sea of plastic’ greenhouses that covers the landscape, and a complex economic system that feeds off the dreams of immigrants that hope it will be a stepping stone to their futures.
A desert wasteland, Almeria province historically was one of the poorest and unproductive parts of Spain. But over the past 40 years it has developed a resource intensive greenhouse industry that provides Europe with almost one-third of its winter vegetables. From the mountains to the sea, the landscape is covered in a “sea of plastic” from the intense number of greenhouses; look at Google Maps for an idea of what this looks like.
Since the 1990s, the industry has been primarily supported through immigrant labour; primarily from Romania, Morocco and the west Africa region. It started with contracted migrant labourers, but over the years, as more and more “pateras” (boats that cross illegally from Morocco to Spain) began arriving with illegal immigrants from Africa, there has been a huge labour force available within Almeria. Spanish people have virtually given up working as labourers in the greenhouses in favour of better jobs. It is a difficult job requiring you to spend 9 hours on your feet, bending over constantly and often working in 30+ temperatures. The minimum wage is 44 EUR per day, although right now most get paid between 30 and 35 EUR (some as low as 20 EUR!), and the work is seasonal and unpredictable.
Aside from the landscape, it is also a space where dreams and reality collide. For African immigrants in Spain. Almeria is at once an opportunity, a refuge and a trap. It is an opportunity because Spain’s laws allow for an illegal immigrant to obtain residency papers after 3 years if they can manage to obtain a work contract, and, until the past 2 years, it has been easy to find work, with or without papers. It is a refuge as it is the only place in the country where the police don’t make it a habit to ask for papers and hand out deportations, the cost of living is low and it is easy to find a ‘brother’ who can help you. And it is a trap because until you get your papers, it is difficult to move anywhere else in Spain or go home.
And now this crisis. Spain hasn’t shown signs of recovering yet, and unemployment is almost at XX%. Immigrants who managed to get their papers and move on to better work in other parts of Spain have returned to the greenhouses after losing their jobs. With the surplus of experienced legal labour available, those without papers are finding it more difficult to find work. And its even harder for those that have spent the last 3 years waiting to be eligible for residency only to find themselves without possibilities of getting a work contract now.
Where Spain was once a land of opportunity, right now many feel that they are no better off here (in some cases, worse) than they were in Africa. There is no typical description of their lives; they are with and without papers, living from shacks to apartments, recently arrived to recently returned. Yet the key story they have in common is a desire to do something other than work in the greenhouses. Whether they have been here for 3 months or 13 years, they feel their situation is temporary, a step to bigger dreams.
Project
In April I came here for a few days with the intent of exploring the situation and getting a feel for the issues. This time I am here for almost 5 weeks with a clearer idea of the story I want to tell and more time to really talk to people and understand this strange place of transit.
There have been some really good recent photographic work done in the area that describes well the intensive greenhouse industry and the poor working conditions of migrant labourers. But what I really feel seems to be missing from all these visuals is a sense of people actually living here – not just as labourers but people with purpose and existence outside of the greenhouses.
So this project is a fluid attempt to describe the dynamics of ‘living’ in this temporary space. Mostly working in Roquetas de Mar, Las Norias and San Isidro, I am attempting to photograph life as it unfolds in the spaces I am invited to. At times there is a performance acted for the camera and for the foreigner that I am, but this becomes equally as important in showing the idiosyncracies in how they would like their lives to look.
A second part of the story involves personal narratives from those that are willing to share their story from me. Rather than use my own words to describe the complicated legal and emotional status people find themselves in, I hope that their stories will help to give a sense of why they came, why they stay, and where they want to go.
Product
I feel the best format for this project is a book. I have a mix of types of images – life, portraits and written stories. I am also working on a series of multiples – for example, of people on bikes – that I hope will serve to demonstrate some of the repetitiveness and monotony in life and landscape here much better than one picture could. I really do not want captions for the pictures as I want the stories to carry the context but it may be an option to put captions as reference on the last page.
At the end, I will include a written piece for those that are interested in understanding the issue of immigration and greenhouses in Spain.
For the exhibition, I will have to think about the best way to present it – either a careful selection of 8×10 images, or a series of multiples might work combined with blown-up quotes of people’s stories. The story really needs more than just a few photographs to be effective.
Future plans
It definitely is not a complete project yet, there is still much to learn and I would really like to be able to follow some of the people’s stories down the road and also see how things change once the economy in Spain starts to pick up again.
Once I have had time to debrief I will write some self-reflection. As usual, the experience was overwhelming and I learned a lot about myself, my approach and the photographic experience.
