Aneinanderreihung

Mongolia, August 2022

Ich glaube, ich habe inzwischen ziemlich mit der Welt als Narration abgeschlossen – der Welt der Romane und Filme und auch der Welt der Musik. Ich interessiere mich jetzt nur noch für die Welt als Aneinanderreihung.

— Houllebecq Karte und Gebiet

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Photography Needs To Stop

Mongolia, August 2022

Compartmentalization is a good point: sometimes it’s simply a psychological necessity to suspend your emotional response and move into a purely functional state, otherwise, you just break down and weep. How much of this “suspended state” is the normal way photography works: Daido Moriyama calls it his “Hunter”-instincts, Stephen Shore escapes into a cold, scientific stare and calls it “Solving Pictures”. When Nakahira says “Photography needs to stop being art. It needs to stop expressing feelings. When it is completely a record, it can be something”, he means “I have to stop feeling”, he wants to turn himself into a photographic machine: and ends up burning all his negatives and drinks himself into a coma… The “Tetsuo”, the “Iron Man” is a very Japanese/photographic way of operating…

And the other way becomes increasingly difficult: the issues of representation, the consciousness about the social contract of photography – all that baggage of being a sentient, social human being can bring photography to a grinding halt and freeze your finger over the shutter, so is it necessary to become a photographic monster (like Diane Arbus most certainly was…) to get anything done at all?!

  

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The Fourth Leg

The Shadow of the fourth leg is slightly off. The Feet of the table resemble legs of little animals, maybe deer; the sunlight on the edge of the windowsill. Why is that a likely response on anything?

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Inconclusive

He brought twenty images, in which he hid one that he was fond of. But he was not confident enough to put only the one image on the table. So he brought nineteen images to obfuscate what? The one image? That one image surely was not good enough and instead of that one, every other could have meant the same. So when it was not this one picture he was trying to hide: It was his lack of confidence into this one picture. And this lack of confidence into this one image was his lack of confidence, that looking at the world and bringing something home from it would get him anywhere. There really was nothing to see: He took all twenty images, placed them side by side on the table: They started contradicting themselves, weakening each other: Questionioning this view of the world, lamenting the views he had not chosen, asking in the line of: Wasn’t it more or less random? Is the world constructed in that taking of the initial images, which ultimately ends it being discarded as being insufficient, inconclusive, indecisive.

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Gateway

Any object, intensly regarded, may be a gate of access to the incorruptible eons of the gods.

— James Joyce, Ulysses, p. 545

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Über Tiefen

Unser größtes Unglück: Dass wir die Tiefe des Unglücks im Herzen unseres Nächsten nicht ermessen können. Unser größtes Glück: Dass wir die Tiefe des Unglücks in unserem eigenen Herzen nicht ermessen können.

 

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