Thursday 7 June 2012

The size of the task

Tomorrow, June 8th is my youngest son's birthday - he will be thirty, yesterday we saw his son walk properly for the first time, he is eleven months old and tomorrow will be my last day of work as I have been declared redundant and will be accepting early retirement. I am not redundant, the company have decided that my role is redundant; but it is difficult not to feel that there is a little stickiness to the moniker, though not as much as it was when I was previously "let-go" eighteen years ago. This time though, I expect not to crave employment, but rather self fulfilment, to continue the road I started on in this course as well as other distractions and see where it all leads.
I am nearing the time to pull together assignment three of this module and I'm feeling the same level of confidence about this assignment as I did for the last one, which is not helping as I don't think I did very well at all in assignment two. I am therefore determined to try to stick to the assignment brief, to try and not create an overlapping narrative, to try and not over complicate the work as my tutor suggested in the notes accompanying the feedback last time.
Today, my penultimate day of paid employment, has been spent in tidying things up, collecting things into piles to hand back to my employer and for some reflection. I have been looking at photographers work - for some time today - reading about their work, what motivates them, their statements. People like Claire Hewitt and Leonie Hampton, Pat Moss and Susannah Baker. And the more I delve the more I find inspirational work, all with something to say, all with legitimate bodies of work that feel intellectually rounded.
The picture here was one I took of a derelict leper colony hospice. The building was closed, it had "danger do not enter"written in various parts of the perimeter chain link fencing. I looked at the building and determined that I would cross that barrier and enter and spend some time taking a lot of images that I "knew" would depict a metaphor for leprosy. The crumbling shell of a building, with bits falling off left to decay further. It was extremely peaceful inside the old building and there were few, if any, signs that nature was retaking the building as often happens in these cases - which on reflection I found curious. This picture, and the others I have in this series, lacks what I think the work I mentioned above have in abundance, namely: Preconception - I knew of this building but hadn't planned on executing anything other than perhaps a record. Aesthetic - I was as interested, maybe more so, to capture images that were pleasing than to carry any significant narrative, so the composition was more important than context, which I now think is probably the wrong way round. Context - very little in this series provided a visual clue linking people to this disease. Absence - Perhaps most important of all I found no way to include even the ghost of a person - there is a total absence of humanity in my series, which is maybe the inherent narrative, but my feelings are that there should be at least an essence of someone in them, after all if I couldn't do that then this is about leprosy and not about it's effect.
What I'm now realising is the distance of travel I need to go to achieve what it is I want from this course, reflecting on the work of the photographers above and others I have encountered so far on this journey. I know what I want is people related, I feel the need to explore people's place in their, or the, world. To find an expression of their existence in what is becoming a less than humane place.
This reflection may have come about due to my new circumstances, impossible to tell really, but it is likely that the way that redundancies are handled by companies, especially large ones, that dehumanises the interface, has amplified these thoughts. I feel that I have a rubicon to cross, but as yet I can't say what size that divide is nor precisely where that barrier is.

9 comments:

  1. Not sure whether to commiserate with you or congratulate you. I dream most days of quitting work but am in no financial position to do so and am unlikely to be for at least ten years so I envy you from that perspective. I suspect that you have many interests and so much to do that you will not miss work much, if at all. Best of luck, in any event. I am looking forward to watching you progress towards your goals.

    I am not sure that it is quite right to say that this picture has no evidence of humanity. There are echoes of people all through it, albeit not specific individuals. As you say, your current circumstances may have influenced your reading. I wonder if a longer study might not have produced the record you wanted. We'll never know about that place, but I wonder how this thinking will come out in your studies of places in future months...

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  2. Thanks Eileen, Congratulate! Congratulate! Congratulate! I've reached a place I've been looking to go for a while now!
    As for the photograph, what I mean to say is that with twenty twenty hind sight I agree it is possible to find signs/signals, but I wasn't consciously doing so at the time and therefore doesn't have the legitimacy that I would look for. I think it might be (relatively) easy to construct a coherent set from the series I took which did present some kind of narrative that I now look for in retrospect; but that wouldn't make it anymore than a set of pictures with a common aesthetic as opposed to a legitimate narrative about the human condition, it would be a fabrication.

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  3. Good luck—change is never welcome when we don't initiate it ourself.
    Regarding the image—have you looked at the work of Lynne Collins? http://vickifoto.co.uk/2012/01/04/lynne-collins-the-trespasser/

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    1. Thanks Vicki, and for reminding me of Lynne's work, I remember the post you did back then as well as the back story and the look of those asylums are not a million miles form the hospice that I took - though her work, like many of the other photographers I mention in the entry has a much greater depth to it. I'll keep plugging away as I'm sure something will emerge.

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    2. No worries—have to admit I was a little jealous—no really jealous—when I saw you had gained access to a derelict building—i'm too much of a ninny!!

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    3. Alison did decide to stay outside and fret; which limited my time inside. I've put up some more from the series on flickr (for a short period) - not sure whether I should have put them on a post on the blog - dither, dither

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  4. 'Passing the point of no return' - that can mean so many things and you sound very positive regarding going forward. I've recently stopped 'working' completely and feel so free now to follow my own path. I'll be interested to discover your decision about the assignment - whether you re-photograph/find somewhere else wearing your new 'eyes'. Here's wishing you a wonderful and creative retirement.

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    1. Thanks Catherine, the past year has been a struggle on many fronts - mostly on the work front, so I'm glad that is over and yes I'm very positive about going forward. Congratulations on your "life" decision also, it's a curious feeling- this being free thing - isn't it?

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  5. Congratulations then, with a mild hint of envy!

    With regards to the leper hospital series, I think that photographers often take pictures first and only afterwards understand what they have taken. Setting out with a defined agenda and forcing the world you see into that agenda can prevent one from opening up to what is in front of one. I am sure that is not what you're proposing - it just sounds a little as though there is a danger of throwing the baby out with the bathwater by disregarding past work that may have merit. All art is a fabrication - the trick is to make one that speaks to and for you and others.

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