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5. A Photo of the Future

A chronological image of time is the ideal image of a contemporaneity that implies all three time aspects and relates them to each other in a seamless form. In a chronological time image, the present was futural, is present, and will be past. This image of time privileges a present that is present, that in the future will have been, and that has yet to arrive in the past.  mehr

Veröffentlicht: 22.05.2018
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4. Our Others

We are interested in how temporal and subjective asynchronies enter into relationships.

A photograph says I am in a mysterious way. There is an I that we usually regard as the first I of a photograph. A photographer presses the shutter release and leaves a photographic trace. He is invisible in the image. Someone or something other is in the image. The picture may have been developed much later, may have been seen much later. mehr

Veröffentlicht: 11.05.2018
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3. Touching Screens

One question that returns in the digital age is that of the correlation of subjects and their bodies to their sense objects: how do we, as subjects, relate to images we see and things we touch? It is very tempting to posit a mythic immediacy that has at some point been lost or been undermined by media and technology. And in that case, the only choice is to make the journey back, the same journey back to the time that is past. mehr

Veröffentlicht: 02.05.2018
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2. Contemporaneity

In analyzing contemporaneity with the present, the past, or the future, we refer to pictorial practices, spatial design, and architecture from a poetic perspective. Our goal is always the creation (poiesis) of a space where real shifts can operate. Our supposition concerning pictorial media, for example, is that they serve a function for visuality that resembles the function the twentieth-century present tense novel served for language: novels in the present tense endow this tense with a new quality, namely the capacity for shifting positions of the self in space and time, which the present tense does not possess in everyday usage. mehr

Veröffentlicht: 24.04.2018
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1. Introduction

We would like to continue a conversation we began last year with Mario Garcia Torres, a conversation about the temporality of photographic images.
Our idea, our attempt then was to get beyond the statement that, because they are recordings, photographic images institute a past. Of course, when a photographic image reaches us, we never fully forget that it was previously recorded by someone. Someone decided on this moment and transformed it, with the help of the camera, into a past moment. mehr

Veröffentlicht: 18.04.2018
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Aus der Series
Photographic Futures

From mid-April till the end of May, Armen Avanessian's & Anke Hennig's blog series on "Photographic Futures" will explore the temporality of the photographic image. Do photographic images participate in the practice of preemption we encounter everywhere in an age of digital data control? Or can we imagine in its stead a photographic contemporaneity that would take the form of a contemporaneity with the future?

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5. La Rue des Lots of Greek Fast Food Places

From Brussels Central Station I walk down to Rue du Marché aux Fromages. I have a job to do. Let's say I'm about to begin a research project on food photography in the post-digital European city. Expected duration: one day. It has to start here and no place else because Rue du Marché aux Fromages really should be named Rue des Lots of Greek Fast Food Places. There's one gyros place and then another gyros place next door and then another gyros place next door. mehr

Veröffentlicht: 31.03.2018
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4. Not from Stone

At first I just wanted to find out what it feels like to write on analog photographs. Not about/on. Actually on. On the prints themselves. For some of us that's routine. Say you're the 1994 Winter Olympics Gold Medal Winner in the Men's Normal Hill Ski Jump. You've probably been signing autograph cards with your photo on it for a while now. But we don't all enjoy that privilege. And it's a bit different, anyway, to actually take a pen to photographs of other human beings. mehr

Veröffentlicht: 21.03.2018
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3. Waiting for the Train (and for the Holocaust Memorial Repair Crew)

The damaged Holocaust memorial rises from the mud. This is Paderborn, Germany. Kasseler Tor, to be precise, a commuter train station minutes from downtown. I get off here on my way to work. There's a convent to the left and a halfway house to the right. The university's a brief walk up the hill. Paderborn is about the size of Bridgeport, Connecticut, or Bern, Switzerland, or Blackpool, England. But when you're waiting for an outbound train at Kasseler Tor (off-peak: one per hour; peak: two), the place appears desolate. If you choose to ignore the memorial. mehr

Veröffentlicht: 06.03.2018
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2. The Creased Portrait of a Lady

Someone smiled decades ago and now she stops you in your tracks. Early in 1953 Sarah Jackson posed for a studio photographer in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. She was 16 years old, a high school senior with six siblings. On Mississippi Street her family ran “Jackson Groceries.” Because Sarah worked so hard in the store, her father called her “Jim.” She was engaged to be married to a man named Wilbert Olinde. mehr

Veröffentlicht: 19.02.2018
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1. Ripping Up Mountains

A kerosene monster is tearing up the skies. I’m on Austrian Airlines flight 232 from TXL to VIE and I see this town called Gmunden on Lake Traunsee, Salzkammergut, Austria. On Traunsee’s clear blue waters a white ferry floats, decorated with multicolored flags. I see a church on the far shore and those amazing mountains. A middle-aged man of privilege in seat 17 C, I am about to do enormous damage to beautiful Gmunden and gorgeous Traunsee.  mehr

Veröffentlicht: 05.02.2018
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Photographs may touch us. More often, though, we touch them. And when we do, we damage them. Our fingers leave creases and stains on surfaces. Exposing pictures to the elements, we ruin their colors. Some of us add moustaches to portraits, some vampire teeth. Others carry likenesses in their wallets: damaging acts of love. Then again, the more traces of use we see on photographs, the more intense they seem. Each flaw we register as an addition to the stories told by the analog image itself. Yes, our toxic obsession with authenticity should also lead us to critique the crease craze. As this blog series by Christoph Ribbat proclaims, however, it is more important to praise the grandeur of the damaged photograph.

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