Monday 30 April 2007

Place

I read an entry from some living fossil hinting at a sense of belonging, a macadamia nutted cheese head who seemed to have found it so much so that she was gaining recognition and acceptance, but – life being what it is – had to give it up and move on.

It seems that I am constantly being drawn to what sense of belonging of means and have even wondered if searching for it dilutes it.

I tried in a comment section of some fragmented weblog to state that we who talk of it and look for it cannot achieve that sense of belonging as it seems to be those who are born to a place, don’t leave and are intimate with their surroundings is what we are looking for. Something we are not.

I cannot presume to speak for others but there seems to be this delicate balance, I don’t want to be part of an ex-pat community away in essence bringing my lifestyle to a more hospitable environment. I also don’t want to be subsumed by the place of choice – going native. With few exceptions we who seek will always be the “from aways” but in the best situations no one cares. I say for the most part for there are places where everyone seems to be from away – usually because the indigenous population has been killed off or marginalised – Alaska, the Florida Keys and frontier towns around the world.

Then I ring a hospital in Toronto to assure the second tiered – CBC announcer – that I didn’t scheme to place him there in order to take his place at his workplace and have a place to stay in July.

When assured that while his situation was serious but manageable, we diverted to small talk which while linked to Pouch, it was more of a common point to diverge. Hong Kong, the Arctic. The confluence of others – my evil twin dropping by to see how he is, the Newfoundland Swiss, the Irish Swiss the care and upkeep of a place the cable internet service he put in, ironic as we don’t put in television, me making it wireless. Discussing the loss of his temporary studio overlooking Duckworth Street and Signal Hill as CBC radio moves to the television facilities and less grand vistas. The coincidence of a friend of his from Vancouver and a frequenter to the west coast of the island buying a print of mine at an auction in T.O.

Pouch is our Ram’s Head, our Duke, even our Spur on a Friday. We stop in chat, compare, plan and leave until the next Friday. And I am thinking that maybe my idea of sense of belonging’s location is too small.

Friday 27 April 2007

updated dispatch from the island

not so fast, the sky was clearing but as i was to quit the wgas, a downpour so a rush to leave became a little more time spent helping students.

and the rain stopped. i found though that there is a big difference walking from lightly populated areas to heavily ones than vice versa. the constant tripping over people as i was trying to escape the loop – trying to find a new way of doing so – meant when i was finally past the train stations. i had a hard time slowing down and i worried about the traffic on the eisenhower.

i tried my best – particularly since the light was better now. i did stop to photograph the usual subjects – places where it looked like people had gathered. did go through a roll of film. did fall back into some formalism. did try to vary my route - even took a longer way in a attempt to calm down and look better - but what was easy going seemed more forced coming.

i had hoped that some of the restaurants and bars for the meat packers would be closed by now so that i could photograph their façades no such luck.

now i fear that i am putting too much stress on the next wander.

re-wander



Figures, I think waking up this morning. It is pissing rain I have to drive to Chicago as it is session two out at Dominican University – lovingly known as the Island - west of the city.

Driving I thought that I would start a new leaf or regain an old one by doing a wander before heading to the WGAS. It would be a retracing of the one I did a fortnight before when the Leiquinha decided it had had enough.

Driving was worse than the last time due to the rain. When it was relatively easy going the first time it thought people who commute crazy I cannot imagine enduring this daily.

I never learn. Wanting to wander an area where I missed some things one would think that I would go with a reliable camera this time but instead I take Joãozão that also has “issues” with the “not winter” weather.

It doesn’t really matter I think as I get closer to Chicago it rains harder.

Then it stops, it doesn’t brighten the sky is doing a good imitation of London in winter but at least I can walk more than a without being soaked. Drizzle is acceptable.

I was here I the search of the chesterfields. One was there as before and like before I stepped in a puddle to make the snap – a man passes hesitantly.

Found other hints at human habitation a bill fold left, someone sleeping under the Halsted Street viaduct – wanted his possessions not him.

Noticed how much I mistrust 35mm as I remade snaps with Joãozão that were perfectly acceptable in 35mm – or I think they would be if I every bothered to print them. Again never learning, one would think by now that I would simply leave the Leiquinhas at home. But no, hope springs external. Hope for what, I don’t know, as I am not sure what is accomplished doggedly sticking to 35mm.

The second davenport was gone which I used as an excuse to vary my route. As I actually found a street I hadn’t walked down. Not in the meat district but not in the Loop passed construction workers for the new condos being built in between.

More discarded davenports behind places that were still under construction. Eateries and bars already open but empty.

Then people crossing Desplaines, they were everywhere. I returned to commuter mode and walked efficiently to the school.
But a habit has been broken – I hope – plan on taking a different route back to the machine. I don’t have to be on the island until 7PM, which gives me two hours of swarving. The sky is clearing.

To-morrow I don’t have to meet anyone until 10:30 and it is in the area of wander.

Thursday 26 April 2007

an attempt at a ceremonial sense of place

A planned wander in homage to an artist who relocating again – odd because I remember her wandering the remote areas of the Pacific being in a place only long enough to become familiar but then moving on. I forgot the relative fixed abode of the last couple of years. Still when I think of sense of place she comes to mind.

A planned wander – like I need an excuse – between two turfs beyond the flat regularity of eastern Rock County into the hillier curvier land beyond the river. Over places we both would have travelled decades apart to reflect the overlapping of places but not time once again. Playing tag with roads with great names – Swamp Angel, Salt Box, Temperance Trail,– towns of Avalon, Bradford, Tiffany – crossing I-90 on the Beloit/Rock Townline road trying to show no preference for either of the cities.

I wanted to go through Afton, Hanover Footville, skirting Orfordville - too big, heading toward Newark.

A wander in curved roads away from the familiar to mimic the hopeful surprise of the new the curiosity of what is around the corner to respond to her relocation in a new found land Mine, though, had vague references to the past – tutoring a student from Footville in Portuguese when I was a resident of the Rock River Valley, an attempt to find Newark in an earlier ramble.

Plans to keep it simple but not too – Joãozão, the camera chosen, complicates anything -a handful of film. Perfect day – 20C warm enough to keep the windows down – sky a bit overcast big clouds making sure that I would not show a bias toward the land. Nice, even, deep, light.

I would make an odd circle to as not to retrace my route – perhaps north to Milton, Lima Center, La Grange, a break in my routine shadowing a break in hers.

Instead an outing along the Tri-State speeding down to Hinsdale to pick up my snaps from the art centre my break not so successful. Hope that hers – more daring – will have a better outcome.

Saturday 21 April 2007

I can hear the Yinser Morman now screeching that I should have seen her Midwestern New England boyfriend – I am bracing for the cackles and told you so’s between the Iron City spewing out her nose.

Am coasting along on the fact that my evil twin gave me all this space for the show. Been systematically scanning, spotting and correcting prints so that I can turn in two a week to the service bureau so that by the time I head to Duke I’ll have twenty prints to cull down when I am in the space. Am proud of myself for except for a week in there someplace I had been able to work to the schedule and have two prints done.

Before heading to Balamer I decided to try out this new paper that is being offered, silver rag from – which I have used and normally wouldn’t have thought of switching but I had finally printed all – but one – of the 10x8 and was now starting on the prints from Ubaldo and Ubirajara. A logical time to try something new.

That was a mistake – I am new to all this digital machinations and don’t feel that anything should try to be something else but instead use the traits that come with the technology to broaden the vocabulary.

So when I saw that greys seemed to be sort of solarised out when using Moab Entrada on the Roland printer – supposedly a better printer – I thought chalk it up to digital.

So imagine my shock – yeah yeah yeah yinser! – when the silver rag had none of that – the tones were smooth the areas looked better and the slight warmth of the paper made what I thought was a nicer image over all. not mimicking a silver gelatine print but a large hand coated type of feel.

The next two images the first of this group –will be on this paper. There will be 10 in all.

I was now thinking about the ten already completed images ten images that cost me $56 each to make – that is 9 pints of Smithwicks in Duke money - I had a moments hesitation. Being at the WGAS had me thinking that I should declare the series conceptual and thus image quality not important it’s the thought that counts.

I snapped out of that lapse in rationality quite quickly and decided that I would have to re-do the images. The rationalisation would be chalked up to the learning process, it isn’t all that bad and I wouldn’t have been aware of it even if someone had explained it to me. I would have had to see it.

The files are ready there is plenty of time I simply have to divert some funds.

Friday 20 April 2007

For no reason I switch light rail trains at the Yards – well Convention Centre in the lame hope that I can make some snaps from the trip – but clearly not enough for a book of wander or even a series of post cards. Weak attempts at (C)harm City formalism at Pratt and Howard facing both north and south before the next train arrives.

Wednesday 18 April 2007


BWI/THURGOOD MARSHALL AIRPORT

Monday 16 April 2007

The penchant of my cameras to take a break if they seem to feel that I am working them too hard had me rethink my plans for the trip to (C)harm City.

Since Balamer needs a new set of postcards – haven’t seen anything that portrays the new complexity of the area, its place as the murder capital of the world, the STD capital of the world – well except for the MARYLAND IS FOR CRABS t-shirts – that romantic blue glow of the police cameras along Pennsylvania Avenue - I would go about making them.

I also wanted to venture into the areas of the city that made up my past – riding the metro to the condo, I was passing under that history – my father's family, Upton Market –my mother's, Penn North – me, Mondawmin – all of them dodgy.

Leiquinhas mimic the aspect ratio of postcards. After the gallery chat, I knew that I could never catch up in the size game – even if I wanted to – so 6x4 inches seem fine. If you are not going to sell might as well not sell inexpensively. I was also hoping that the portability would mean more images being made.

The equipment malfunction had me second guessing and over compensating. Once warm the camera was working again, but I wasn’t sure. The evening before the flight I went through many packings and re-packings of my courier bag. Every camera option was tried at least twice in an attempt to cover all possible outcomes. In the end I over packed taking Ubaldo along with the leiquinhas turning the bag into a device for testing hernias.

But it is not as simple as that. I also wanted to photograph structures that seem to be disappearing – taverns, small churches, corner shops – those establishments that make up a Balamer neighbourhood. It isn’t simply something unique to Baltimore – I would have done the same in Boston or any city with identifiable neighbourhoods.

I have found that cameras do matter – not brands but type. While making the snaps of structures I didn’t want it to look like I was sneaking through these neighbourhoods. I didn’t want state the obvious photographically but instead wanted to treat them with some respect but still be portable – unless the camera can stop a stray bullet in a drive by I prefer ones that don’t slow me down. It’s that juste milieu that so often escapes one. A larger format seems to imply a stroll rather than a race, it seems also to imply consideration rather than a sketch – the reason it is used –until recently - with people on the Rock.

I used that as a justification for lugging Ubaldo along. While the images won’t be large, I still like the detail as was seen by recently scanned snaps made while in Rio – but that is another entry.

So once again I lack the strength to be decisive and carry more than I can possibly use knowing full well from those times when I had to limit myself, I was fine – better than fine - as I actually concentrated on the reason for the outings – making snaps.

All of this is moot – a nor’easter wipes out the week-end. Might as well be in, say, Richmond.

Sunday 15 April 2007

I was lamenting to someone on how things change without perception and mentioned the time when arriving in Chicago in the morning, I would walk up to Michigan Avenue – when reading The Guardian meant buying one – making snaps all along the way. Talked about the rake of the early morning sun and, if I picked my streets correctly, the quiet.

This ended way before The Guardian unlimited was viable.

So here I was in the loop early – drove down as I had to make it out to a remote catholic university to make their undergrads cry for art crits – found free parking more easily than I had expected – expectations lowered as I parked a good three miles from the school and now I had to see I would race for coffee and arrive early or wander a bit arriving at the usual time.

I tried to aid my chances of wandering by not loading the bag down – but the weather wasn’t helping. There was this little pissing rain.

Thought that if I didn’t take the walk seriously I would be more likely to have some success so I brought the leiquinhas.

Did the usual, when I found an empty space I parked the machine – got out looked around thinking that it was a trap, reckoned that it was since no one else was parking in the area, and move on. Did this twice.

When I finally parked and went back to check that I had locked everything thrice, I wasn’t in the mood to make any snaps at all – it was the rain.

Thought that I would compromise by wandering the area looking for potential future snaps that I would return to make some time in the nebulous future.

Walked thinking that would be good, over and over, usually when I saw something that straddled the public art graffiti line. There was a torn poster from a gallery no longer in existence behind an almost locked fence.

I stopped, though, when I saw a chesterfield at a diagonal. I wasn’t sure if it was being discarded or made into a place of relaxation for the homeless in the area. there wasn’t anything around where this could have come from.

The day changed out came the leiquinhas, snaps made – in the indecision that comes from plenitude, made snaps in both black and white and colour. as it was 35mm and thus of no real import while I made the snaps I thought about coming back with a real camera.

Having broken the inertia, I then returned to photograph all the things I had noted but passed by.

Because no way is really longer than any other way in a city that is so boringly rectilinear as Chicago, I chose streets that I hadn’t been down in some time. Those which were going to be closed by the spread of condos.

Found a davenport, this one surrounded by trees. Repositioning myself the camera made this strange tearing sound when I wound on.

Tried again the same noise – not so much a tearing but gears being stripped.

Wander ends, wondering if older cameras yearn for retirement in Florida.

Saturday 14 April 2007


BWI/THURGOOD MARSHALL AIRPORT

Tuesday 10 April 2007

getting lost...

intimately

South Hofstrom Road
Bradford Township - Rock County - Wisconsin

why the post is better than e-mail

on the way to the post officeCOUNTY TRUNK ML NEAR 94TH PLACE COUNTY TRUNK Q(104th Street) WEST OF 136th AVENUE
COUNTY TRUNK D ( 184th avenue) BETWEEN COUNTY TRUNK C (wilmot road)
and 83rd AVENUE

Monday 9 April 2007

even though it is now a $2000 plastic camera...

- worse for with a real plastic camera there is always something - i still use joãozão as it is still the camera for flânerie guess i should swarving as flânerie is way above its station now.

Saturday 7 April 2007

gallery chats

I feel sorry for gallery owners, they are so lonely most of the time. When there isn’t a opening, one can enter a gallery and be alone with the work, the owner behind a desk either on the phone or staring blankly into a computer.

Being that starved for human interaction they are willing and wanting to chat.

A marl through the two gallery districts to see work that I hadn’t had a chance to see due, I was looking at perfectly competent work that followed the checklist for contemporary photography to-day – cinema sized, attention drawn to the framing, colour, images that can be understood in a microsecond.

The gallery owner said hi. His mistake. I kept looking that the work, talked about the weather and realising that I was seen the way that women are seen when they enter Central Camera, pretended to be an art instructor asking questions in behalf of my students addressing certain concerns about the gallery world. Mentioned how impressive the work was, found a few other things to talk about – as I said the work was good, a bit obvious but good – then mentioned the size and wondered who buys something this big.

- Oh no-one.
-What about museums?
I was told yes but how often does a museum buy work? Worse when this show is over it goes back to the artist that there was no place to store the work in the gallery which means that the chance of selling this later in the year was practically nil.

Asked why then was the work accepted if there was no chance of it selling or why the director didn’t tell this to the artist. She was told but the artist is influenced by what she sees and this is what photography looks like thus this is what was wanted. The time slot was determined over a year ago but not the work.

Mentioned that while I make work –assuring the gallery owner that I wasn’t going to bring it over – and feel very out of place as I can make entire portfolios with the material made in one image, that it would be lost on the wall and looks so dated due to size – among other things – that I don’t really bother anymore. He sort of agreed that the market is run the way that one buys a lottery ticket, even though one almost is never really successful, one sees that someone has been so the formula is followed.

It was then discussed that it seems the work is big also because the artists feel that people would miss the subtleties if it were smaller. The irony is the complete lack of subtlety. Everything done led the viewer immediately to the main point of the image so much so that they were poster-like in the time it took to see the work. there were no counter points in the image no place really to look other than the “subject”. Those parts that would usually be used as a method of enhancing or questioning the “subject” were diminished by the usual contemporary method – the swings and tilts of the large format camera to limit what was in focus.

The gallery owner - now really happy to vent - also mentioned that the idea of varying sizes has disappeared also so that a potential buyer who didn’t live in an aeroplane hanger could actually buy the work and not have to go to a storage facility to see it. Sales – and thus fame – were being lost because the artist wouldn’t consider offering the images in different sizes as the perceived size of the work is really determined by where the work will be and how much space is around it.

Left not knowing what to think, except my datedness as even the large images being made for JB>PC this summer are still wallet sized in what I just saw.

Joãozão, however, had no doubts, once out in the streets again making snaps heading to the next gallery the shutter froze.
just sent out six deficiency notices - err progress reports - what fun!!!

Friday 6 April 2007

Security breach.


It seems that I unwittingly came across an area of importance in this country’s war against terrorism as I was making this photograph in Janesville – I won’t mention the location as one is never sure who is reading this and would hate to have the information fall into the wrong hands.

I had just left Traxler Park heading downtown when an inordinately long train went by and stopped over the Rock River. Don’t know why I stopped in Main Street just North West of Centerway Street by the ice machine depot to make a snap. Cannot even remember why I made it as I see nothing worthy of the stop now except maybe nostalgia as it was a Santa Fé wagon – the railway company was Canadian now.

While trying to make something interesting out of something boring, a car slowed, a pick- up stopped and did a u turn headed back toward Traxler Park made another u turn and waited about 50 metres behind me. Done I hopped back in the machine – with that strange flag on the back – when another car came by made a u turn and stopped beside me.

- you look familiar do I know you?
- Don’t think so.
- Is your name george?
- Nope
- Oh
- Inshallah
He drives off. The pick-up starts to tail me. I head downtown. He turns right to go over the Rock.

Janesville’s alert is raised to orange.

Sunday 1 April 2007

an important date


It was there, on the counter, waiting for me as I came back from the BFA. An envelop with the yellow and green chevrons, a postal machine cancellation, “via áerea”. It was thin but I am used to thin replies and know fully well what it means.

Put my stuff down took out the “souvenirs” from the BFA show and then opened it.

I was wrong. It could be the fact that more things can be done by internet to-day that these sorts of letters don’t have to be a fat as they once were.

It was from the Faculdade de Comunicação da UFF - Universidade Federal Fluminense - from their new campus that blocked is build on the landfill outside the house in Passo da Pátria in Gragoatá which moved the beach from the front door to a goo 500 metres away. The same UFF that had turned me down as a communication student back in the 70’s when I wanted to move to Brasil. The same UFF that was down the way from the last place that I stay when I lived in Icaraí, next to the Gruta da Capri.

It was letter of acceptance to teach there full time in that every same department that found that being North American during the regime of Costa e Silva wasn’t what they were looking for.

Even if it weren’t more than I am getting now the difference in cost of living makes me rich. I can now daydream on whether I want to take up my former fluminense status and live in Ingá or or São Domingos – won’t live in Icaraí anymore - too chi chi or xi xi – or head out further toward the Atlantic - Piratininga? Itaipuaçu?

Or do the reverse commute – become a carioca – live in Sta. Teresa – better butequins cooler summers and take the ferry across on the days that I have to be there – the irony of reversing the 70’s when I would race over to Rio.

Cafèzinho instead of espresso no Starbucks yet, not having to complain to Jamba Juice and their watering down the drink when I need my açaí fix – better still not having to try to taste it through the other fruits that are included here. Two cities made for a flâneur and a society that still takes to the streets.

Come October…