Last week I took a part in the photo edition workshops in Warsaw. It was a cool experience and exhausting long hours of making the unjustified and perhaps unjustifiable decisions. A simple photograph can be given hundreds of meanings due to it’s placing.
I think that one of the things which amuse me about the photography is the ability to connect the unrelated events into a story. Maybe story is too big of a word? A sequence, a set. Something happens in one place, something happens in another place, here’s a dead bird, here’s the moon, here’s somebody I know, somebody I don’t know. Unrelated events that become linked together thankfully to a single factor.
That single factor being myself.
Maybe the fact that I spent a meaningful part of my life working in an airplane – which meant being everywhere, constantly thrown from one end of the globe to another, made me feel like I’ve been less and less present and real. In a way it was a life of a ghost – I’d never been anywhere long enough to mark my presence in any more meaningful way, but long enough to observe people and situations. I’d like to think that in some way my presence was a connecting line for all these distant places and situations.
I believe that what I call the “life of a ghost” fed my urge to collect the trophies in the form of photographs. In a way they are the silver proof – I’ve been there and I witness that exact moment. Turning them into something connected and coherent is almost like giving my presence a visual form. Maybe that’s why we say that photography is intimate. Regardless of the content, it always consists of at least the smallest particle of the person who pressed the shutter button.
These are perfect strangers I met on Sunday. Each of them shared a moment and a story with me. I can’t quite exactly explain what made me pick them from the crowd but I instinctively felt something unique going on.
Meet the crazy pavement artist, the lovely man with crazy sunglasses and a traveler from Kansas with a German origin.
The man in the photo studio told me that my film is long expired and there’s no point in scanning it.
But well, I like photographing on expired film. Mainly because you never know what you’ll get. When you finally see the photographs it’s nothing what you expected, nothing that you could remember – almost like the moment you captured on the photo has never happened. It feels like looking at your memories from a different perspective, something that is new but old at the same time.
A little bit like remembering something that you forgot a long time ago. That’s what I mainly like about the expired film.
“i used to tell my students, or maybe rather, classify photography in quite an original way: photography needed and not needed. Of course that’s a metaphor. Photography not needed is created with no influence from outside, that means, it’s a highly personal choice of the photographer. I’ve always told my students, and I continue to do it until today, do as much photography not needed as you can. It’s the most authentic, the most real and it tells us something about the author. Of course that terminology, needed and not needed – that’s only humoristic. It’s not important in the moment”