What the hell is it with me and shadows then? Shadows and lines. Transient, insubstantial shadows. And lines. And shapes. Let’s not forget shapes. Clearly defined against backgrounding shadows, or casting shadows before them. And geometric patterns too; repeating, imposing order of a sort upon shadowed space.
Well, let me be a bit more specific… images of shadows to be precise. Images of shadows and lines. Images of patterns and shapes.
I don’t mind admitting, I’m getting a bit puzzled by it all. There’s just something about them that strikes a resonance, real deep inside sort of thing.
Its not as if there’s anything particularly special about these images of which I speak. Yet I seem to be acquiring an almost indecent quantity of them.
So just how many photos of shadows and stuff does a person need?
Yet confronted once more by shadows, by patterns and lines and shapes, I find myself reaching again for the camera, all thought of the silently growing archive of similar images absent from my mind.
Hmm.
Time for a bit of introspection and self-analysis maybe. Well, speculation at the very least.
Strange things, shadows. So very real yet… not. Anchored to things, real solid tangible things, yet of themselves substanceless, almost not there.
They can suggest so much, can even occasionally evoke whole strings of thoughts and feelings and yet… pfft… gone, nothing there, not a trace left behind.
Well. Almost not a trace. Apart from the memory of them.
And perhaps that’s what it is. Why they strike such a deep resonance with me.
For memories are like shadows. Rooted in reality yet, of themselves, nothing. Sometimes deep and vivid, other times ethereal, almost not there.
Taking on shapes that can seem so accurate yet are far too often distorted, misshapen, beguiling us into believing things that aren’t so.
And sometimes lingering but most often fading imperceptibly to nothing, a memory of a memory, a disappearing trace of a shadow. Slowly going as light fades, like memories slowly fading as consciousness gives way to waves of oblivion.
Thoughts. Thoughts too can share this same evanescence.
Perhaps that’s it. Spending so much time in thoughts and memories, perhaps it is that shadows have become my natural landscape. Familiar ground to be welcomed like an old friend, well-worn tracks that beckon hypnotically.
Shadows then; an outer representation of so much of my inner life, my mind recognising a natural affinity that has hitherto eluded consciousness but now, through the medium of photographs, is manifesting itself to me.
But what of the lines, shapes, patterns and angles that also present themselves to my eye?
An unrecognised desire or need for order maybe? For organisation, for conformity, for structure and conceivably even stability?
An attempt to tame and frame the fluid, ever-changing ephemerality of the inner landscape maybe. Ultimately futile of course, and doomed to failure.
And a visual representation of an attempt, through the medium of photography, to pin down and constrain that which by its very nature must remain elusive and uncertain.
Which may speak of a longing for certainty and security in a world that is, finally, unpredictable, unreliable, and all too often distinctly bloody uncomfortable!
Or maybe its all just a load of old cobblers.
Now where’d I put that damn camera? Cos I’ve just spotted some shadows. Heh heh
I love shawdows also, especially in black and white photos. My second photo assignment when I took photo 1 in high school was takeing pictures of shawdows. The top picture is really cool because the shawdow is not that well defined. Mi piace!
Yeah, ever since I started shooting in b&w shadows have really seemed to draw me. The two things complement each other so well its just irresistable.
Well….that’s it then. Mike has gone all artsy-fartsy on us.
“…evanescence”
“…deep resonance”
“Transient, insubstantial…”
“…lingering”
Your journey to the Dark side is complete.
Perfectly good words found in any bog-standard dictionary. Just cos I’m literate dunt mean I’m artsy-fartsy y’know. All the best people be literate. Except those who aren’t.
AHA! evidence at last, if evidence was needed! that the state is infiltrating the ‘normal’ people, brainwashing them with strange thoughts and ideas!
As I have said before, it wont be long before your prancing around then art galleries in a cravat and blazer, sipping champers as you discus the Transient Lingering merits of Black and White Photochromy and other such arty styles as alluded to by you in this post!
Or is it that the ‘real’ mike has been abducted by the CIA (or Aliens) and substituted by an imposter, a CIA agent, who’s mission it is to convert all photographers to the concept that Art and Photography are one and the same, and in so doing, discourage the use of Photography for what was once considered legitimate purposes but are now considered to be inappropriate and framed as such in the terrorism act.
Huh. Trust you to jump on the bandwagon as well. There’s me, trying to practise me little bit of psychoanalysis and what do I get chucked at me? Insults and accusations, that’s what! It just ain’t fair.
[stomps off in huff]
[sidles back after second thoughts]
On the other hand you might have a point with this notion that Art and Photography are the same being a huge con, but I don’t think you’ve quite got to the bottom of it. What I’m guessing is, its a ploy by marketing types who reckon that if they can fool everyone into thinking that photos are art then bucketloads of money can be charged for what’s basically just a bunch of snapshots. And of course the likes of me are gonna come in for a load of stick cos we’ve got the bottle to call it as it is… a load of balderdash!
On reflection though, a bit of extra dosh would come in damn handy.
Hmm.
David,
I have commented on a separate posting of his about how this isn’t the real Mike and that aliens have replaced him with a version that is not programmed quite correctly.
It’s good to see I’m not the only one on to this evil alien plan.
Coo… I could make a fortune flogging me story to the ‘papers… “How I was abducted by aliens”.
And its gotta be true cos there’s a coupla
buggersbloggers saying so!Haha..delightful..your post and the comments!:)
Without any bias, or any association with the artsy or non thereof, I must declare that I love these shots. Absolutely, headlong, deep in love. I must scour through your images to find and grasp the deluge of shadows you recall here.
The text took me by pleasant surprise. What exactly? Not just the self-analysis but the poetic element to it- which is quite well put and touching. I am gonna call this Mike’s Soul Searching Music:) You have always had a knack for being completely candid with what you write, and now, a free flowing, lyrical quality to top that.
I would not worry about you fartsing all arty:) Just an illogical belief in my instincts.
But I do enjoy the leg pulling. Because it reckons what I have often felt, looking at wannabe art in photography elsewhere. Please…they all look the same. So help me god. For some, just shooting film makes it art, for others, consistently vagueness is art per se.
It is hard to point out the genuine from the make believe. What’s more tangible is the cynicism that’s growing like a lump inside me, and I have been feeling quite guilty as it grows.
And so I keep asking to myself…as someone else did…’Yes, but is it art?’
“It is hard to point out the genuine from the make believe”
Ah, that’s the thing, isn’t it? Seems like nowadays anyone can churn out the hugest amount of rubbish and excuse it by claiming it as “Art”.
Well, I’ll have none of it.
All joking aside, I will readily concede that some photographs may be “artistic” (as “in the style of art”), and indeed can be creative. But for me, producing photographs continues to lack that long-term emotional engagement in the act of creation (that can often last weeks or even months) nor – the same act of creation – possessing that ability to invoke the pain, or frustration, or even joy that I have so often found in the past when painting a picture or whatever.
Yes, good photography demands effort and skill, but they are different efforts and different skills to those required for what I regard as proper works of art.
Films now, different matter entirely. And, it seems to me, much closer to my perception of “Art”. In fact, mate and I were talking only the other week about this very thing and one of the examples I used was some of the Orson Wells-directed films. Now, for me, they’re true works of Art.
Curiously, that discussion led me to theorise that maybe films represent the “finished product” so to speak, complete in and of itself, whereas photography is merely an evolutionary step, a stage in the process of creating that work of art.
Well, I say “merely” but of course films (or, at least, films that predate the digital age) would not have been possible had it not been for photography. But that’s what I meant when I referred to it as an “evolutionary step”. In other words, still an intermediate stage in the process of becoming.