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Exhibiting, Curating, Collaborating, Publishing, Learning and More: Talks at the RPS
Image Copyright Pawan Joshi, of Photo Kathmandu I am also very much looking forward to introducing these speakers for the third se...


Sunday, 30 October 2011
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Wednesday, 26 October 2011
Brown's Folly and Bicycle Mountains: Altered Landscapes
I don't think these places around Bath are quite Edgelands but they do resonate with a historicity that connects to Bath, the West Country and Georgian and Victorian history. The top picture is an informal BMX track (that nobody has used for a couple of years due to England's appalling summers). It sits between the River Avon and the Bath-London Railway. In the background is Grosvenor Place, a terrace of late regency houses which were to form one side of a huge pleasure garden that would form the entrance to Bath from the east. The land on which the jumps track was worked by engineers building Brunel's Great Western Railway in the 19th Century. Walk along the river a bit and you come to a row of terraces where the workers who did the digging used to live. Now, on the banks of the river, a little town of benders has cropped up.
The other pictures are from Brown's Folly, former Bath stone quarry and home to Boris, the world's second oldest bat. There is a network of caves under Brown's Folly. In the fifties the Ministry of Defence used the caves and mines to store explosives. In the nineties (I think) they pulled them out and burned the cordite, then collapsed the biggest of the caves - you can see the entrance in the bottom picture. The empty explosive casings used to fill the valley in the bottom picture. Now they have mostly rotted away, but new ones always come to the surface - old explosives in one of my very favourite landscapes.
Monday, 24 October 2011
"A pole is just a pole"
The new electricity pylons for the UK have been chosen. Designed by Bystrup, they are a delicate T-shape. They don't have the industrial presence of the old ones which were standardised in 1928 and have been strutting their electical stuff all over the UK landscape since that date. You can read all about the old designs here.
If you really like the old pylons, you can join the Pylon Appreciation Society here. The founder of the society, Flash Wilson Bristow, says of the new design, "The winning design is OK, but it’s a pole and not a pylon. They frame views of the landscape. They're special, but a pole is just a pole."
Full report here.
Below are some of the designs that didn't win.
Also check out Paul Cabuts Powerlines (not pylons).
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
Klaus Pichler's Viennese Allotments
all pictures copyright Klaus Pichler
I have posted previously on Andrew Buurman's lovely book, Allotments. It ties in with my own experience of allotments and growing vegetables and flowers (Cosmos mostly - millions of them, in great big fecking bunches!).
So it was with some fascination that I saw Klaus Pichler's wonderful series on Viennese allotments - a very different story with dashes of claustrophobia, solitude and paranoia.
It was with that in mind that I asked Klaus a few questions. Below are his excellent answers.
See also his Urbanautica interview here.
Klaus will be in the November edition of the BJP in an artcile of mine that features 7 different photographers and their collaboration - don't miss it. It's absolutely fascinating. .
See also his Urbanautica interview here.
Klaus will be in the November edition of the BJP in an artcile of mine that features 7 different photographers and their collaboration - don't miss it. It's absolutely fascinating. .
1. Who uses allotments in
Austria:
This is a very good
question, because in the last few years a major change in the social structures
and population in those garden colonies was noticeable. At the moment, there
are 26.000 allotments in Vienna (where most of my project took place), which is
a quite high amount compared to the population of Vienna (2 million people).
Initially the gardens were invented to create space for a subsistence economy and
the question of living in the colonies had no relevance or it was forbidden to
live there permanently. In the past 15 years the law that regulated the usage
of the gardens was changed, and now it is possible to build bigger houses and
to live in the colonies throughout the whole year. Before that most of the
users came from a working class background, using the gardens for growing
vegetables and fruits, and as a retreat from their small flats in community
buildings. Within the last 15 to 20 years, the population has changed a lot and
the 'old' users now more and more get replaced by younger people or even
families who live there throughout the whole year. They combine the two
advantages of the gardens – living in 'green'
surroundings within an urban area. Besides that, some of the older
people that were using 'their' allotment over the last decades are still there,
but now living in compact houses and enjoying their retirement in the gardens.
I visited the 'Allotment Fair' in Vienna last year, expecting to see a variety
of garden gnome designers and seed producers, but surprisingly instead of that,
most of the exhibitors were architects or companies that have something to do
with construction – which was an indicator for me that allotments indeed are a
market and that a massive change is going on in the usage and population.
2. What are they used for:
2. What are they used for:
As I said above, there was
and is a major change in the population, and with that also the usage of the
gardens is changing. The spaces for growing vegetables and food, formerly the
biggest part of the gardens, have almost disappeared and now there are mostly
spaces for recreational purposes or for cultivating flower gardens. I always
describe them as some kind of outdoor living rooms (at least in summer),
bearing a lot of recreational functions (pool, deck chairs, suites) and a lot
of adornment and flowers.
There are a lot of hedges and boundaries - does this say something about the Austrian psyche?
Haha, maybe, although I don't think that this is a specifically 'Austrian' thing. I think it is some kind of a (not only) human elemental need to set boundaries, to claim a territory as one's 'own'. And since the space of the allotments is limited and people are living really close to each other, the hedges are somehow 'necessary' to feel private.
One strange thing I
noticed is that the height of the hedges definitely says something about the
personality of the people who live behind it: the higher the hedge, the less
the chance to find people behind it who were interested in taking part in my
project. And vice versa: if I noticed a garden without high boundaries, I was
almost sure that I would meet a person with an open mind.
Why did you choose to photograph allotments?
I have always been
fascinated by the somehow surreal and picturesque world of the garden colonies.
I originally grew up in a small village in the countryside and always loved
being in the woods and enjoying nature. When I moved to Vienna in the mid-90s I
began to discover these allotments and was intrigued by them for, in my
opinion, being an attempt to create an artificial 'nature' within an urban
area. The mixture of cultivated garden idylls, depicting a petty bourgeois
ideal of 'green living', and the strange mood of calmness and, somehow,
paranoia always caught my attention. Over the years it has always been clear
for me that I will make a series about these colonies one time, and in 2010 I
felt ready for realizing this idea and to capture allotment life throughout a
whole year.
What specific features did you choose to focus on?
What specific features did you choose to focus on?
There are certainly more
series that focus on allotment gardens done by other photographers from other
countries, and when I began to prepare my own work there, I noticed that one
thing was, in most of the cases, missing: the work and effort it takes to
cultivate a garden. So this was a major point for me, to capture the permanent
work that has to be done to put nature in her place. This never-ending work
sometimes felt like an end in itself to me, like a therapeutic approach to
fight against inner unrest. This is maybe also a reason why so many gardens
look like outdoor living-rooms, styled and trimmed over the top.
The other thing was a more
emotional thing: I noticed that I felt something whenever I entered the gated
world of the garden colonies: some feelings of paranoia, reclusiveness,
perfectionism and sometimes also loneliness. This didn't fit to the perfect idylls
and I began to take these feelings more seriously and to include them in the
basic concept of the series. The pictures of the series are to a good amount
staged pictures, but not in a way where you notice at first sight that it is a
staged picture. I tried to combine the appearance of the allotments, the
permanent work of the inhabitants and my personal feelings towards the gardens
into the pictures- this all with a little exaggeration to capture the absurdity
of garden life. My way of working was to walk through the colonies and to get
in contact with people who were working in the gardens. I explained my project
to them and, if they were willing to take part in it, we together began to
develop ideas for the picture – sometimes the persons came up with their own
idea how the picture should look like, sometimes it was my idea, sometimes a
cooperation. As soon as it was clear what the picture idea was all about, we
realized it together. And, surprisingly, almost everyone who was photographed
liked the photo of himself – although the appearances in which the persons are
depicted definitely aren't the most flattering ones...
What are the difficulties of photographing allotments?
What are the difficulties of photographing allotments?
I maybe say nothing new,
since this is probably the major issue with all photo series that focus on
people, but: the main difficulty was to find people who were willing to take
part in the project. I didn't contact any of the community administrations in
advance, because I wanted to find people at work, unprepared and out of their
everyday life to work with. This was a tricky situation, because it was hard to
convince people that I didn't want to see their Sunday dress, but to capture
them in their everyday actions. Of course, there were plenty of people I met
who were not interested at all, some telling me about that in a quite harsh
way, but on average around 15% of the people asked were interested. One thing
that made work difficult was that there are lots of housebreakings and I was
more than once mistaken for a burglar. This led to sometimes quite annoying
situations where I got threatened and treated not so well.
One other thing was that
getting in contact with the inhabitants was not so easy because of the amount
of hedges and other boundaries – I just heard that there was someone behind the
boundaries, but I didn't see anyone. I didn't want to seem obtrusive, so I just
contacted people I was seeing and didn't ring any bell or open any door to get
in contact, so this was kind of inherent to the concept.
All in all it was a really
interesting experience to spend so much time in the gardens, meeting some nice
people as well as some really strange or nasty ones (which was an experience
for itself), getting to know a lot about everyday needs in garden life and,
sometimes, also being a substitute (kitchen) psychologist for some of the
people I have met there.
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
James Mollison and Nuruddin Farah
I enjoyed seeing James Mollison talking about his Dadaab refugee camp (population 370,000 and rising) pictures and the portraits he made of Somalis in the camp - all with an Avedonesque white backdrop to isolate the figures. Which reminds me of Paul Close's fabulous Snakebox Odyssey - even if that is completely different.
Mollison touches on why he has a white backdrop and raises questions of if we should show the normality, show the horror, show the backdrop, don't show the backdrop? Which way should it go? Or should it go all ways?
Show the complexity maybe? I liked seeing the camp best of all in the video, the shops, the restaurant and the guy who was getting married. What is his story I wonder? What happens at night, what are the politics of the camp? Does anyone ever leave?
And at the same time I'm enjoying Nuruddin Farah's tremendous From a Crooked Rib, a Somali man's eye view of a Somali woman's eye view.
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
An interview with Rob Ball
all pictures copyright Rob Ball
Different countries have different responses to inbetween suburban/semi-suburban landscapes - but it's something that figures large in contemporary photography. In North America, apparent expanses of space, urban sprawl and box architecture have a different set of planning laws and preconceptions of space than those in Germany or the Netherlands - the result is different photographic responses, strategies and histories - something we should pay more attention to.
Steve Bisson tells me the Italians call this kind inbetween landscape the Third Landscape. It used to be referred to more broadly in the UK as liminal space (inbetween space), but now the idea of Edgelands has become dominant - in the UK at least..
Marion Shoard writes about Edgelands here - she defines it as an "...unplanned, certainly uncelebrated and largely incomprehensible territory where town and country meet..."
There is also the book published last year Edgelands, by Paul Farley and Michael Symmons Roberts., which celebrates Edgelands as urban wasteland - in quite a romantic way.
Perhaps the prime writer on Edgelands-type environments is Iain Sinclair. His London Orbital is about walking the M25 - I can't read it but lots of people can. More accessible is this article on the development of the site for the London Olympics. And if you're looking for the photographic equivalent of Iain Sinclair is Stephen Gill and his earlier Hackney Wick work.
Marion Shoard teaches at the University of Canterbury which is also where Rob Ball teaches on the photography course. Rob works a lot with the idea of Edgelands so I fired off some questions to him which he very kindly answered.
What are Edgelands?
For a while Edgelands were my home. I
guess, most commonly, they would be described as being a space in between –
neither urban nor rural. Farley and
Symmonds describe Edgelands as a place ‘looked at but not into’. The Edgelands I am photographing are
everyday places to many people, but to me they resonate strongly with my past –
that’s why I’m working in them.
Why are so many photographers interested in photographing them?
Photographers are always looking for
new stories to tell and this is a rich time for photographs of England. There is
a renewed interest in our own landscape, whether that be urban, rural or
somewhere in between. I became interested in the green areas where I used to
play when our government attempted to sell them.
How successful are photographers in photographing Edgelands
environments? What is the difference between insight and non-insight?
I spent some time in the US a couple
of years ago and understand the excitement of everything feeling new and alien
– at these times its hard not to take pictures.
Working in my personal Edgelands is
the opposite – I have to continually self-edit – how do I tell the story in the
most succinct way? How do I make my (unremarkable) story, the Essex/London
border, interesting and relevant to someone in the US for example?
The question of insight is echoed
throughout photography. What do I bring by having this relationship with the
environment? This project to me is more like writing a biography – but I think
my story applies to others too.
I am interested in how someone like
George Shaw works – we have to be bold - Tile Hill, my local park, or Yosemite
– I’d like to offer them all equal importance. I’d like to see more
photographers from different cultures working in our Edgelands – the idea that
non-insight can be just as interesting.
For reference there is an interesting
show coming up at the Hotshoe Gallery that addresses question of ‘I’ and
‘Other’ - http://www.hotshoegallery.com/upcomingexhibitions/other-i-alec-soth-wassinklundgren-viviane-sassen/
What do Edgelands say about us?
It’s a paradox: shocking town planning
verses wonderful examples of the human spirit; dens, desire paths, and a
willingness to interact with the landscape in such an interesting way.
How do Edgelands differ in countries? What is the UK v the US for example?
I guess the American equivalent would
be the Urban Sprawl. Some wonderful work has been made over the years – often
in the 70s. More recently I love the work of Jeff Brouws. Most things in
America exist on a grander scale – the sense of space is epic in comparison. In
my Edgelands you can see Canary Wharf in the distance – a reminder that we are
never cut adrift. In a way though, there is something incredibly British about
Edgelands. There’s nothing grand going on, mostly it’s home made and understated.
That’s the attraction for me.
Why do you photograph Edgelands?
I think there’s a richness there, I
can also record these places with some honesty, integrity and a real sense of
history. These landscapes are mine and have been for 30 years. Upon revisiting
them (I no longer live close by) I feel it all coming back; building dens,
sitting under the bridge smoking, scouring the landscape for porno mags and
most of all, hanging around because there’s nothing to do here. The park was
our haven – the only place where we would be left alone.
Who are the artists doing interesting things with that kind of
inbetween/Edgeland space?
There are many and I think we’re about
to see more. Joni Sternbach, Beierle & Keijser, George Shaw, Farley &
Symmonds, Mark Power.
Edgelands is a very landscape-oriented term with a sense of
inbetweenness - do you think there are equivalents in other areas of
photography - in portrait photography, or documentary photography for example?
I think the liminal space is really
interesting in photography. I occasionally work with Wet Plate Collodion
creating exposures over a period of 30 seconds, the images are intense and the
camera seems to record something in-between.
I love the work or Richard Learoyd who does something similar
with cibachrome paper.
Thursday, 6 October 2011
Life on Mars - Issuu
Here is a link to a pdf of my Life on Mars on Issuu. It's a series on childhood, the British landscape and reinventing the local environment. Do let me know what you think.
Wednesday, 5 October 2011
Monday, 3 October 2011
Elaine Duigenan (who, amongst other things, makes photograms of old nylons and hairnets and pictures of snail trails) is taking part in the Orange Dot Gallery 2 to the Power 10 Postcard Art Project. She very kindly sent me a Micro Mundi Snail Trail card for me to have my way with - that's it up there. Sorry John Heartfield, I couldn't help myself.
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