… and to draw a bright white line with light (Untitled 11.9)
inkjet print in artist’s frame
37 1/2 x 55 3/4 inches; 95.3 x 141.6 cm
Edition of 6; 2 Aps
As a photographer I have always been interested in the ways a single photographic image can influence or have a profound effect on our perceptions of the world.
Often understated, Uta Barth’s work has been noted for the ways it leads the viewer to thinking about light and ultimately about the act of seeing itself. I am interested in the ways she draws our attention to the subject of light, something fundamental for our eyes to see and for the process of photography to work. The fact that she often chooses to make imagery from compositions that are at the edge of our vision is not incidental: shards of light on an office floor, light spilling through windows or strips of light lining a curtain as in the picture above, feature constantly in her work. The Tanya Bonakdar Gallery notes how Barth “delicately deconstructs conventions of visual representation by calling our attention to the limits of the human eye.”
While this re-capture of light acts as a marker of one of the fundamental needs for photography to work, it also announces another fundamental tenet of photography – the passing of time.
I have been looking at the subject of time in my work and its relationship to photography and feel that one of the most seductive powers it has is that it allows us to time travel. Yet this “time travel,” which is only possible as a result of photography’s exacting closeness to the real, is a double edged sword. While in one instance it gives access to a world gone by, it also serves to shackle our need to live in linear time.
By using light itself, Barth avoids the markers of time that would normally place a snap shot in an actual time period and references other markers of time more profound and universal. Thus it seems to me that Barth’s work floats in a timeless place; one that in concept could exist a thousand years from now or a thousand years ago.
100 pixels a short work by Riley Claxton 2014 to be contiuned
Is there a limit to the sea of pixels?
Title: A hundred pixels
The idea above stems from my investigation of the image and its relation to technology. The modern passenger jet plane is a symbol of man-kind’s conquest of nature’s order and natural time. No longer are we forced to stay in one village or travel by ship to a new land, instead we can virtually time travel thanks to the aid of Jet age technology.
The images were appropriated from the internet, tightly cropped and purposely pixelated by me, too further highlight the language of photography, the age of mechanisation that we live in, and the ease of which images are traded, robbed and transferred over the internet, across time and space.
The tightly cropped nature of the image removes it from its original depiction and boxes it in an ambiguous space that could be viewed as some kind of modernist architecture, advertising for machine parts made in a factory or even some kind of futuristic space ship technology.
And while the pixelization of the image serves to remind the viewer that this image is firmly rooted in the digital world as indeed all images that are being traded across the internet airwaves are. I am also interested in the readings of a poor image, how soon will the pixelation be apparent – from how far away will the image look like machine parts from an aircraft and how soon will they dissolve into a mosaic.
The appropriation and deconstruction of the image speaks to today’s digital world. A transference of images is happening regularly over the internet all the time, this could be thought of as theft or thought of as a transference of ideas, perhaps a transference similar to a plane taking off and landing else where.
Hannah Collins work “True Stories” shares an interesting point of comparison with a recent work of mine “Control” in respect to her use of exploring space and “artificial coloring.”
And even shades of Idris Khan
Great to read about Jan Dibbets – who discovered through the very act of photographing their 3D work perceptual and spatail changes happened to it when it was represented in 2D. He took these concepts further and applied them to the landscape it self. Very intriguing I was planning a bit of a spatial intervention like this too but with industrial, and urban buildings rather than the “natural landscape” I think I have always been aware of this work but not directly known the artists involved.
Control – by Riley Claxton 2014