Rainbow Parade - Accidental Encounters

The streets are often surprising. They catch us off guard, from the back when we are looking ahead: they fill our eyes with colors, when all we can see is monochrome dullness; they fill out ears with the sounds of joy and Madonna, when all we want to listen to is Scriabin or Prokofiev; they clear our breathing passages with the smell of strong smell of “Angel”, when all we want is the clarity of spearmint. And that’s why I love the streets! You can’t get mad at them about anything. They are there for you when you need them even when you don’t realize you do.

I started the day quite bored and ready to sit in front of the computer watching mindlessly movie after movie when I decided to take a walk. And ended up all of a sudden in the middle of a Love Parade. And the next 3-4 hours were spent walking around the crowds of people – people who did not know when to stop, who didn’t know why they should ever stop, people who knew what to smile for, people who knew that if you wear red trousers, there is no way your day to be bad. People who knew that PDA (public display of affection) is in fact beautiful – even if the individual persons aren’t particularly so. And so they did, undisturbed by the journalists taking their picture in an arrogantly intrusive way sticking their big Canons and lenses literally in their faces. Where is the boundary between being one of the crowd and being one in the crowd?

Lea, Linda and Jacob

Graduation last week was like a reunion – many old friends/alumni gathered to celebrate the graduating class. The small university groups allows people to get to know each other, to work together on projects, to live together as a community no matter what their graduation year, or major. And this is what I think Ken Robinson meant when he said that our educational system is misguided thinking that the only common thing people have is their date of manufacture. And when I saw the three of them again, I remember the great photo session we did just about a year ago – three friends, a match. The photo session started casual – I was there, they could see me, they knew what it was all about, they knew I’ll be taking pictures. Little by little, it seemed as if they were no longer seeing me as another person (a consciousness) but as a simple the button that pushed the button of the camera when they felt ready – when they initiated it.

A photographer often tries to become invisible – to capture the decisive moments without any literal or social filters. That invisibility allows for the ultimate connection between the viewer of the photograph and the subjects of the photograph because there is no real boundary between them – they are two separate worlds but the subject is not aware of the other’s. And yet here, Lea, Linda and Jacob played with each other in front of the camera and wanted me to take their picture. And the reason was simple – they were taking the pictures for themselves. They were posing for themselves, for each other; they were playing with themselves, they wanted to have a memory of those moments with each other for themselves. For me as the photographer, this was beautiful – with all of its narcissism.

The Camera You Always Have with You

For the past week-and-a-half, I’ve been having a lot of fun with the cell-phone camera. I know that it is quite a departure from a DSLR or the rangefinder (not only in terms of price OR resolution) but in terms of shooting approach, size, and creative freedom on the spot. And I had missed that – the impulsivity of it. Photography hasn’t been about spontaneity really – it used to be a meditative process – not only with the big view camera but also with all the film cameras. Maybe you know that you nailed the picture with the Leica M6 (or M3 for that matter) but you don’t get to see it immediately, you don’t get to share it instantly, you don’t get to hear others sharing the photographic experience with you right there (and it could be someone you know or the entire world that cares to listen). And that’s something that digital technology alone isn’t enough – you need the cell phone for this – the camera that is always with you (well, I also always have another camera but that’s another story).

For the past weeks, I’ve returned to the Apple side with the iPhone 4 and with it, we finally have a camera that delivers great results. I quickly installed all the apps I had before on the 3G I had until December and was reminded of some of the perks they have (like, you cannot always layer effects, or you cannot dodge specific spots as easily as in Lightroom, or you cannot get all the same film effects I can achieve on the computer – but who would be surprised by this?). And in all the nostalgia of the discovery of something old you knew for its new things, I found all those great pictures I had taken ages ago with the old iPhone – pictures that in their own right, I would love to recreate with the bigger camera (which for most of those shots I didn’t have with me – most of those mountain pictures were from 2008 before my more serious turn to photography). And yet, I love their imperfections, their “old-time” feel. They are today’s archive of degenerated film negatives that you discover on your harddrive. Actually, they are not even that – because I have no other versions of those pictures, no originals, no raw – just them – as they are, done, unreplicatable – they are my digital polaroids. And I might as well use the mobile phone’s spontaneous features just like those film people used the polaroid (although that’s a whole new discussion because of the resurgence of the Polaroid movement: the Man with the Guinness Record Number of Polaroid Cameras, the Impossible Project, and The Mijonju Show).

Discover more iPhone photography in the portfolio section.

It’s the people that make the place!?

“Perhaps it is all due to my elevated level of sleep-deprivation – in fact, I can’t remember the last time I didn’t sleep the entire night. Perhaps it is due to my overflowing social schedule – in fact, I can’t remember when I had spent so much quality time with people.”

That’s what I wrote as the start of this post more than 5 weeks ago. And as if I needed a reminder, but I kept coming back to this. Day after day, things reminded me back of Jacobs – a reference letter to draft, a personal feedback/advice to give, a letter from a friend to read through tears, a cushion with printed memories on it (memories that ring with crystal clarity of coco nut and sunshine), and every time I stared in the distance in contemplation (you know, like they do in the movies staring into the picture frames above the mantelpiece), I would see flashes of the past 3 years at Jacobs University (the electronic picture frame that I got from Mr. Laine-Naida – my satiric cynic). And those flashes will not have a logo on them, will not have a name on them, will not have numbers or grades or interview questions, or stats home works, … Those flashes are the theater performances, the laughter at the bar (I can’t hear the sound but I can feel it), the cooking contest, the wine tastings, the early rowing trainings, the presentation skills workshops, the tea evenings before physics home works, the paper studio dreams, … And i would remember all the people who have touched me – and who helped me realize: it is not the place that makes the people, and it is not the people that makes the place.

It is a fruitless endeavor to try to find the egg in the situation and i refuse to do so but I know this: those people are in my heart and that place with them is in my heart. And it could not have been better to have the better memories imprinted on the digital chip of the camera of the past year and a quarter. (if I look statistically, there was a constant increase in the number of pictures I’ll take per month – they call that “growth” in the business world which is an indication for success).

(Don’t you dare attach any meaning to the order)

Diana, Anika, Carin, Marja, Theresa, Anna L., Suna, Mareike, Jons, Venja, Anna L. (another one), Max, Iza, Dragos, Rebecca, Viki, Cornelia, Katja, Helmuth, Wiebke, Nora, Lea, Arvid, Margrit, Mina, Steffi, Carmen, Domnique, Nathalie, Romina, Cornelia, Lizzy, Marie, Alexander, Imke, Peter W., Tonia, Claudia, Warren, Kerstin, Ulf, Mitul, Gerry, Nik, Sophie, Esther, And the many many many many many many many many others who came for a career advice and who inspired me with their sparkle, their curiosity, their transparency, their honesty, their desires. I am at peace!

(no single photograph can summarize my bow to the people). (and no, this has nothing to do with this evil thing called “regrets” – I love my choice to take up the new job – in fact this ramble-of-a-realization is a confirmation that it was a great choice – because being out of the place, doesn’t make me out of place with the great people.)

VDAY 2011

There is more than what the eye can see.

You don't need to be blind to see ... With your hands.

A gun - the hand pulls the trigger. The fist strikes. Hard. The fingers strangle. The fingers with the nails sinking into  the skin. They strangle. A stick hurts the body, makes bruises, may crack a rib. That can heal. But the hand ruptures the soul. 

It's also what the mime uses to paint the wall to hide, to protect. Come inside. Wave your hand. No, not like that - not like the Pope. Like an Italian.  Don't you feel it? Don't you feel Italian! 

Enjoy your hand: let it melt the chocolate, let it collect the raindrops, and let them dry with the sun, let it make love.

And now the other hand [if you are lucky].

It's more brain than the rest of the body.

It's how the child picks flowers.  

It's a hello. And a goodbye.

It's how we hide laughter and how we wipe tears.

It's antenna for prayer.

It's the cup we make around the face in surprise.

It's how it's sweetest to eat. And most erotic to feed. Almost.

It's the tool for exploration: start at the hair, trace the eyebrows, close the eyelids, gently tap the tip of the nose, bewitch the lips. And then go down. And downer. And downer... To the hands... Fuck - there is a wedding ring. So what?!

I put down the wall. I put the white gloves on the night stand. 

I embrace you with my hands, the part that stays at least half-conscious. I hold the air in your lungs and yet it still escapes, so I kiss you to keep it in. I tease. I take the strawberries. And the ice. I go over the skin. A millimeter away. I feel the warmth, though not touching. My hand slips down - to your navel, the outer side of the G-spot. Your skin is a magnet attracting my hand, guiding it further south where its warm, and warmer, and warmer... My hands are everywhere. In and around. Where was the brain again?

We wake up. Luckily we still know the grammar. 

We protect.

We are building walls. Now-together. We share the white gloves.

We put the hands together. 

And you stand up and look in between, through your fingers if anyone is watching. You want to open your hands, open your arms and embrace this life, embrace this wonderful planet called Earth.

"I am a little spot in the universe, but at the same time I have a whole universe inside of me. I want to feel it, take it, touch it, and let it go. I want to feel - my hand in your hand. I want to feel the comfort that you give to me. FEEL IT. Take the hand. Take it - come on, don't be shy. Feel its years, feel its wisdom, feel its beauty, feel its sexual orientation; now feel its stress level, its leadership skills, its GLOBAL leadership skills, its GPA. Feel its vulnerability, its curiosity, its shyness, its comfort, are you feeling it? It helps if you close your eyes.

"Remain expectant."