1.
Ineffable — photography and cyanotypes by Carrie Cox
From the Community
This post by
landed in my inbox a couple of weeks ago, where she talks about the 'ineffable' quality of analogue photography (👇🏽). It was a short sentence, but I understood what she meant - there's something about the intentionality we tend to bring when using film because the roll is limited to however many shots. The composition, the exposure, the depth of field, the light... you plan it all and then you get what you get and that is your shot.In my film photography... the plan never quite turns out. But the attention and thinking-through that I've given it creates some kind of containment that allows something 'ineffable' to come through in the photo. Something that has nothing to do with light exposure, contrast, or composition.
Carrie's photos feel vulnerable, soft, and gentle... and I experience a human connection to each of the people she has captured in these photos, without having to know or understand anything about them. These photos somehow just let me see them.
Indeed, knowing facts about a person, and even 'understanding' them in that kind of shallow way we do when we put people in boxes so we know how to interact with them (or sell them stuff) often gets in the way of just seeing them, and their humanity. Seeing that, just like you, they exist on this planet against all odds, and just like you, they will die someday.
I did some further explorations and I discovered these cyanotype prints on her website. They're not portraits - they're mostly plants, and some are quite abstract and I can't say for sure. But these also have that 'ineffable' quality. I feel like I'm seeing through Carrie's lens, and my own simultaneously. We're the same, and also not.
After a few turns meandering in the rabbit hole, I came across some photos of Carrie on her Instagram and I realised that we met before! It was over a year ago, on a
event. I don't remember the contents of our conversation, but I remember leaving the call with a sense of warmth and connection to this person.I forgot her name, and what we talked about. But, I didn't forget her, and I'm grateful for the chance to experience her through her work, one more time.
2.
The Blue Period — 81 paintings by Pabol Picasso during 1901 - 1904
From the Gallery
When I was doing my art A-Level at school, Picasso was one of the artists I often went back to for whatever research I had to do. When I lived in Barcelona, I went to every gallery that had a Picasso in it. I do the same whenever I go to Paris. I 'borrowed' a book on Picasso from the school library which I still have (Sorry, Mrs. Watkins) - the edges are a bit roughed up and dirty from my charcoaled hands flicking through the pages.
And his 'Blue Period' was my favourite. I loved the different hues of blue, the sombre mood of the people he painted, and the simplicity of the compositions. He captured a sense of austerity that I really can't 'relate' to - I mean, I've lived on food stamps... but I've never not had shoes. And yet I can see, feel and taste what 'austere' means by experiencing these paintings.
When I flick through this book, I avoid reading any of the text. Honestly... most of the analysis and commentary on art - whether we're talking about 'The Greats' like Monet and Picasso, or contemporary stuff at the TATE modern - feels like pretentious bollocks to me.
Picasso probably was suffering from depression during this 'blue period'. It's probably true that he wasn't selling much and was impoverished and that's depressing. It's also true that his lover died, and that's very sad. But knowing these facts and understanding the social context of these paintings doesn't seem to add anything to how I connect to them in the way that matters to me.
Perhaps, the knowing and understanding are just made-up stuff, trying to make sense of someone who lived and died a long time ago. Meanwhile, he left us with these pieces of art and there's just an experience of them to have right now.
But you know... you could say my entire substack is just pretentious commentary too. Touché.
On a side note… Between 1901 - 1904, he produced 81 paintings. I don't know that I can be quite that prolific even when I'm not depressed.
3.
Arty Bollocks — nonsensical artist statement generator by David James Ross and Joke de Winter
From the Internet
I told myself that I would give my cynicism a rest after last week's post (👇🏽) but I Iied. I came across this text generator aptly named artybollocks.com that creates nonsensical artist statements that look and feel remarkably similar to the ones that grace the white walls of art galleries.
Here is an example for your enjoyment:
My work explores the relationship between acquired synesthesia and midlife subcultures. With influences as diverse as Nietzsche and John Lennon, new combinations are manufactured from both constructed and discovered dialogues.
Ever since I was a student I have been fascinated by the endless oscillation of the universe. What starts out as contemplation soon becomes corrupted into a hegemony of temptation, leaving only a sense of chaos and the chance of a new reality.
As subtle forms become clarified through diligent and critical practice, the viewer is left with an insight into the outposts of our culture.
Ok, that's enough from me. Enjoy!
🃏 JOKE DE WINTER 🃏
A moment to appreciate Joke de Winter's name - pronounced 'Yo-Ka.' Here is a page from her website, featuring jokes about winter.