16 October 2012

William Klein, Daido Moriyama at Tate Modern: A Response

A bit messy? Yeah, sorry about that. These aren't in the order I intended but then Klein did say that most of his work, or a good chunk of it anyway, benefited from the accidental.
If you are at all interested in photography I would definitely recommend that you go to this - some responses I had:
1. Both were interesting, but Klein was interested in Art and exploring wider artistic practices, whereas there is something OCDish about Daido's huge and expanding collection of pictures. That said, both were equally fascinating.
2. I'd have liked to have seen the video interviews at the beginning of the exhibition rather than in the last room. Perhaps. After watching them both (they are quite short), I went round again, backwards, with the new insights that had been provided.
3. I liked Daido's looseness, his lack of fear about expectations.
4. I liked William's slathering of one work upon another.
5. I liked Daido's emphasis on the essential ambiguity of pictures, of photography - after 160 years, it hasn't turned out to be about realism at all.
6. I shot all these in the exhibition (naughty) or immediately afterwards. I was inspired. I am inspired.
7. I liked Daido's takeaway message: he may be 73 but he still sees the city through young eyes, he still shoots what he desires, he still has desires, and he still looks around him and doesn't understand everything.
8. The Fuji X100 - it's not really very good at all. Apart from being near silent that is. 

11 October 2012


Of Jays and Dreaming

I met a friend tonight. We chatted over a bottle of Montepulciano and some pizza and she told me about a recent day with her parents. She's looking out the window, with her boyfriend, at her parents' garden, her mother at her side. She tells her mother how beautiful she thinks the jay in the nearby tree is. In the back of her mind / off to one side / hardly noticing it, she hears her father slip from the room. Then, as they watch, my friend appalled, her mother passionless, the sound of an airgun is heard from upstairs and the jay drops lifeless to the ground. Moments later the jay's partner appears on the fence above the ground where the lifeless bird lies, and stares. My friend's father reappears from upstairs - he's had the airgun for a year or so.

Jays mate for life.