Schönen Tag

Schönen Tag,

Ich kenne Sie vielleicht nicht, aber ich glaube, wenn Sie von Gott ausgewählt wurden, um eine Spende von 2.000.000,00 Euro von Herrn Azim Hashim zu erhalten, ist dies für Sie und Ihre Familie, um die Covid-19-Studie zu bekämpfen und den Armen zu helfen die Straße. Es soll auch zur Armutsbekämpfung, zu öffentlichen Spenden, Wohltätigkeitsorganisationen, Waisenhäusern, weniger privilegierten Menschen und zur Hilfe für arme Menschen in Ihrer Gemeinde beitragen.

Freundliche Grüße

Herr Azim Hashimg

— from Spam

Something borrowed, something blue, something sad, something valid

I recently think a  lot about Gary Winogrand. His famous statement: “I  photograph to see find out what something will look when photographed.” has a Post Scriptum. After his death in 1984, they found washtubs full of undeveloped film in his apartment. 

From here, the interpretation takes different turns: He did not care how the world actually look, photographed or not. He cared enough for the world to care for the process of taking pictures of it. Rarely we see exhibitions with his late, undeveloped work. There once was an exhibition in New York with his colorwork, that vanished soon without much of a fuss. Whether his late work was any good or not vanishes under the question, what “good” in this regard even means. 

The picture that was not meant to be developed. Restrict the photograph to the moment when it was taken, obliterate the moment when it was seen by others. Be close to yourself. There is something sad about this. There is something valid about this. 



The pornographic picture is the ideal expression of how the capitalistic gaze views the worrld: Nothing is ever enough, everything is only a hint on something else, a series of rreferences pointing towards an unknown forward, every pictures is only tthe promise of another picture.

In many ways, Photography is a naive art: The belief that there is actually a person there to portrait, the belief that the two dimension of the the plane we project our pictures upon can hold a world of multiple dimensions; the indexicality, that only leads us to belief in the thing itself, it is fraught with childlike conceptions.



No Dead End

Hiroshima, December 2020

I personally feel that a box, far from being a dead end, is an entrance to another world

Kobo Abe, Modern Photography in Japan 1915–1940