July Vacation Day 3 – of Nature

Day 3 – A cheerful morning glow – the rain from last night had prepared the grass for our steps, the morning sun had cleared the air from the fog, the sun was waiting to burn even more of my face and shoulder skin. And the walk started from a ski resort. The type that is like a monolith with windows attached to a ski-line and that makes (they say) a great place to be in Winter. why did it feel as if we were entering an abandoned post-apocalyptic city? Why is that the only thing I could hear was Contrapunctus IX (a 4, alla Duodecima) as performed by Glenn Gould on the organ? Nothing of laughter, nothing of joy, nothing of energy. The sun was burning, the ground was grey, the buildings were dilapidating.

Next to those buildings that were once built and were once full of people (communist times?) new buildings were being constructed. Or construction had started before a plan went terribly wrong at the iron rods and cold concrete blocks were left unattended, abandoned behind the high fences warning off animals and mountaineers aline with their cold rust. Subtly informing you not to dip your toes in the lake right behind, let alone drink from it. Abandoned restaurant huts suggest that there is nothing to see here in the summer. Without the snow this place is dead. The hill specially designed for skiing (i.e. trees gotten rid of) felt like a torture – artificial, naked, as if the skin of the mountain has been ripped apart and the wound left uncovered.

We reach the top of the hill – the TV tower where a swarm of tourists (who had used the lift and who couldn’t care less about the packaging of sweets and chips they were spreading around) were taking picture with the view – artificial, as if they’ve made it – they’ve moved away from the car and away from the daily routine specially to discover its magnificence. Nature is taking her tole – it engulfs that which belongs to Her – the entrance of the tower also looked abandoned with grass trying to overtake the steel – which one is going to win?

And just 15 minutes away was the edge of the cliff – the same ridge from which Orpheus had sung his song for his beloved Eurydice. And when you stand on that ridge, you feel so minuscule, vulnerable, and yet omnipresent. The wind blows it takes off your atoms and molecules and spreads them across the valley. We spent 20 minutes there – none of the other tourists felt attachment for more than a fleeting moment of that picture they felt they needed to take to justify their presence. Nature has no sanctity. Nature is (?) no sanctity.

We come we build and we don’t finish. And you know. Nature will finish it for us. Not according to our design but to Hers. Because no matter how smart we are and how much backward engineering of nature we are capable of doing, nature is still the engineer and we shall always be observing her past and not her future.

Unless, we let in our instincts guide us. A horse hiding in the shade waving his tail at the wasps. Staying there unchained, without horseshoes, without a hotstamp, without a name, without identity. Apart from the one that Nature bestowed on him. And he came, sniffed us, cuddled with us, gave us his blessing and told us that all will be well. Nature has Her ways – we’ve been there before and we’ll be there again. If we don’t finish something, Nature will finish it for us – according to Her plan. And we are part of it. Somehow. I am sure. I am hopeful.

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.)