La Notte

Firenze, Italia

December 2010

A moment of quiet.

© Fotofilia

The Girl on the Bridge

Something Blue.

A little tribute for a colour that has more meaning than a thousand words...

Istanbul Noir: Byzantine mysteries in shadow and light

Aya Sofia

Underground Cistern Cafe - Yerebatan Sarnici

Ship-wrecked figures on a raft, in complete darkness, with only the phosphorescence of the ocean waves breaking the ink-black of the pictures; in the distance, the fluctuating light of a lighthouse

The effect of passing auto headlights on the ceiling of a dark interior

Fluctuating neon or other electric signs

The light of a passing streetcar on an otherwise dark street

The hanging light on the ceiling of a cheap gambling joint

Searchlights of prisons or concentration camps

Flashes of guns in absolute darkness

The opening and closing of a refrigerator that has a light inside, in a dark kitchen

The well-known streetlamp. 

John Alton (1949) , Painting with Light, p 47-48 

Si tu historia acabó bien, explícalo en el canal de amores. Si acabó mal, explícalo en perros

- Amores Perros

Peru, May 2010

The Night Swans

Peering into Eyafallajökull

Looking at the images of the volcanic eruption in Iceland, there is nothing like a a very real subglacial volcanic eruption to create the ultimate fantasy form photograph - 3D effects, high contrasts, and a massive, celestial scale. However the question arises, is this why are we so enthralled by these photos? There must be more at play. I think about it in relation to one observation that I've made for years now - most people (regardless of their skill or interest in photography) have a tangible desire to photograph sunsets when they see them- this is not simply out of an aesthetic appreciation of their color and composition but it is out of a wonderment that something so seemingly majestic and divine can occur naturally and often.  It is in the real that we seek the unreal. In these photographs we face the thrilling fear of looking at the chasm between a divine and yet godless universe.
 

Photo by Marco Fulle, taken from
http://www.swisseduc.ch/stromboli/perm/iceland/eyafallajokull_20100416-en.html

What is this thing called photography? Miroslav Tichý answers.

Say that you are interested in photography and people immediately assume that you have a deep technical interest in the camera. They ask you about the equipment you use, the settings you prefer, the software you are indebted to and the printing style you employ. As a photography enthusiast I am deeply bored by such discussions - my general lack of interest in gadgets most certainly translates to cameras too. I simply see something I like and I photograph it. I hope for the best. My technical skill may be negligible but my aesthetic sense and curiosity often get me there. Seeing the current Miroslav Tichy exhibition at the International Center of Photography revealed for me the difference between photography as an artform rather than as a technology. For every bunch of photographers I see drooling over a new line of SLRs or comparing lens sizes, I am reminded of Tichy's makeshift cardboard cameras and their absurdly primitive technology. For every photographer I see painstakingly photoshopping the dust particles off their image, I see Tichy embracing the dirt, grime, bugs and visible signs of damage that characterize most of his photos. For every photographer that I hear bemoaning the focus mistakes in their shots, I see Tichy's fuzzy, blotchy and depthless images. For every crisp, perfectly framed and smiling portrait I see Tichy's cropped, voyeuristic shots of women's bodies. I love Tichy's work for the same reasons I love photography - the framing, the accidental effects, the element of chaos, and the capture of everyday life as a slice of utmost significance.

Tattoo Promises

Eastern Promises (2007) is David Cronenberg's latest film, a sophisticated and shocking treatment of London-based Russian mafia. While generally received as an excellent film with a solid screenplay and direction, it is the deep symbolism that it delves into that takes into a level far above most of its crime-drama peers. In particular, Eastern Promises draws us into the world of the tattoo and the complex meaning it can have both a mark of stigma and pride. As one of the major sources for the development of this film, "Mark of Cain"(2000) documents the Russian tradition of tattoos that originate in jail, their relatively strict symbolism and their function as markers of an individual's criminal history, ethnicity and ofcourse identity.  In one of the most memorable scenes of the film, Luzhin (played by Viggo Mortensen) is put under the filmic spotlight in which the tattoo inquisition 'reads' his history on his body. His incorporation into the Vory v Zakone must be the largest sacrifice - he must give himself wholly and in doing so receive the tattoo of the group on his chest and knees.


Ultimately the meaning of the tattoo is inextricably linked to Cronenberg's evolving concern with violence, whether it is ever truly justified but also whether it can ever really be erased from the individual or collective memory. In other words, it is the violent acts that we commit and we experience that remain permanently tattooed onto our psyche and write the history of who we are both as people and as nations. Similarly, the film in all its graphic excess actually features no gun violence - it is with the raping, injecting, stabbing and hacking of victims that Cronenberg creates that extremely intimate link between the victim and perpetrator of the violence - people inscribe their victims like the tattoo artist inscribes bodies.

Eastern Promises certainly has tattooed itself in my brain, and is one for the filmic canon....

Eva, Wong Kar Wai, Galliano & the best perfume in the world

Here's one to dispel the myths! Art can definitely be found in advertising.... The stunning Eva starts in this WKW directed ditty for Midnight Poison: A New Cinderella is Born.

A cool jazz journey to the gallows

A brief mention of the most incredible film-music collaborations of all time. Miles Davis' improvisations on Elevator to the Gallows (Ascenseur pour l'echafaud; Louis Malle, 1957) single handedly bring the unforgettable chilled cerebral loneliness of this classic new-wave film. His music somehow manages to be simultaneously intimate and distant, heartfelt and aloof - so much so that long after you have forgotten the plot, you will remember Jeanne Moreau's detached and desolate walk through the cold night lights of Paris.

The Obscure desires of human porcupines

A number of porcupines huddled together for warmth on a cold day in winter; but, as they began to prick one another with their quills, they were obliged to disperse. However the cold drove them together again, when just the same thing happened . . . In the same way the need of society drives the human porcupines together, only to be mutually repelled by the many prickly and disagreeable qualities of their nature. (Schopenhauer, 1851)

No satirist understands the bizarreness of the human condition better than Luis Buñuel. In his 1977 film That Obscure Object of Desire he hilariously captures the conflicted nature of human relationships - our innate desire to be with another is perfectly opposed by innate desire to get away from them.