I’ve always liked the night, dark clothes, dark images.
The association between “black” and “bad” doesn’t exist to me.
In the shadows I find simplicity, peace and elegance.
The darkness shuts out the noise and makes time irrelevant.
Darkness deserves a better rep ...
If you were to stop by my apartment, you might think I was mildly obsessed. And you’d be right—but it’s not quite what you’d think, at first glance.
There might be a Phantom of the Opera poster on the wall. You could find a Phantom action figure, lurking on my desk. And, sure, I do have six (SIX?!) copies of the film—many of which actually contain two versions of it.
But, I promise you—there will be no songs about him, no Broadway or London cast renditions of anything. This isn’t the Phantom you’re thinking of; well, probably not, anyway…
Amidst the now normalised depressing news regarding the pandemic, the politics and the slow depressing spiral of apathy that follows suit, I read something that hit me a little harder than all of the above.
It started at around age 3, I think. My dad would put the record on and I would be completely mesmerised by the sounds that hit me.
That was to continue all through my childhood and by age 13 I had heard that particular album with 4 people bathed in bright multicoloured, yet shadowy mysterious, lights so many times that I knew it note for note.
It was the sole reason why my only wish for my confirmation at age 14 was a red electric guitar with a Peavey amplifier.
All I wanted to play the colourful, yet heavy sounds of that album. As danish guitar virtuoso Søren Andersen so delicately put it yesterday - “They played colourful music LOUD!”
It shaped my youth.
It shaped my life.
HE shaped my life.
May you forever R.I.P
Mr. Eddie Van Halen.
And just like their music, I now do my photography bathed in bright multicoloured, yet shadowy mysterious, lights. Just like the cover of that epic 1978 album “VH”
All shots on X100V and X-Pro3 | XF35mm f/1.4
Je ne parlerai ni de cépages, ni de terroirs, ni même encore de domaines ou de châteaux. Ce 11 septembre 2020, je goutte à la mélodie des vendanges, à l’harmonie de ce petit orchestre de vendangeuses et vendangeurs. Il y a de la vie entre les rangs, du soleil et du cœur, des confidences, des rires et des chansons, petites touches précieuses qui dessinent un peu plus l’âme d’un vin. Ce 11 septembre 2020, j’ai rendez-vous avec St. Vincent…
Anyone who has seen the movie Braveheart will remember the character of William Wallace, played by actor/director Mel Gibson, cry out the word FREEDOM. Although a bit overused since the movie done the rounds, freedom is not something I've taken for granted. The ability to go wherever you like, whenever you like is not something all people in all countries are able to do. So I find the obsession in the 21st-century to obtain fame bizarre and self-destructive. Fame might bring the financial ability to afford to go wherever you like, but the freedom to walk down a busy street unnoticed is true freedom. To go where you like in total anonymity is bliss!
Coronavirus has removed or restricted freedom in 2020 and possibly into 2021. In the beginning, it looked as though lockdown was just a way to get people to stay at home so that the government could change the batteries in all the birds, but there was a shortage of toilet roll, not batteries, so I guess that wasn't true :o)
Freedom for me is to take a train somewhere and to wander for miles with a camera in my hand. Most of my pictures include people. But as a street photographer, I had no one to shoot on the streets, as a music photographer, I had no bands or musicians to photograph. As a musician, I had no audience to play to. Life really did come to a standstill.
But even now, I feel the rust taking hold of my photography and creativity in general. I don't have the time to shoot long enough to allow the brake pads to separate from the disks. There is a feeling of being trapped, fenced-in, and on the outside of where I want or need to be. Parts of the country, including where I live, are seeing increased numbers and more restrictions being re-introduced. So even now, as we move toward October and the long dark winter, there is as much uncertainty as ever. But I’m not ready to paint my face blue and shout FREEDOM. Not just yet.
I really did completely lose track of this assignment. I never do that. It's funny how so many plans just fizzle out these days, diluted in the permeating haze. Btw can I mention just how sick I am of always adding these days to everything I write? It's almost like an apology. I need to stop doing this.
The goal of the Definitions project was to take a deep dive into who we are, as individuals and photographers. Of course, we never imagined so much would change. Our private conversations, as a group, have slowed considerably. Mainly because I think we're all tired of constantly repeating ourselves (“all good here, kinda...not much to add...same old, same old...”), or too busy focusing on survival, on the future, our families and our sanity.
Sigh…
I hated airplanes.
I miss airplanes.
I miss the knowledge of possible encounters. I miss hanging out with my buddies halfway across the globe too. Our planet was tiny and it got big again. Sprawling, desert-like and unattainable.
Most people define themselves through the work they do—I am a lawyer, I am a programmer, I am an electrician—but there remains a form of compartmentalization. When the day ends, the persona usually gets left behind. I don't want to pretend we're in any way special, but I believe it IS different for creative types. Because the engine for that work, the persona's roots, spring from within ourselves. It becomes difficult to separate this from the whole. The walls are thinner here.
So, what's left to define then, when our activity stops? Who are we left with? I feel like a TV actor whose show has ended. Typecast and suddenly without a script to learn and remember.
...
These are pictures of objects that surround me.
Some have meaning, some are merely clues to other spaces;
all are portals,
into the past or future.
Like most of us, I’m finding this year hard.
I’m well aware that it could be worse, of course—Sydney (and New South Wales, and Australia) are comparatively speaking doing extremely well, with new cases under 20 per day for months now; meanwhile, to our south, Melbourne is in their second lockdown after case numbers went over 500/day for weeks on end.
But still, between my father’s passing earlier in the year, and the fact that the entire industry I’ve spent my career in is closed indefinitely, it’s hard to know what my purpose is at the moment. Mostly I try to stay safe, which means rarely leaving the house aside from walks in a nearby park or grocery shopping; so I see the same few blocks, and not much else…
