Transformer Houses

A few years ago I came across this work by Canadian photographer and artist Robin Collyer and then I came across a few the other day on the web.

These aren't houses, but rather they are disguised electrical substations, complete with windows, curtains and a bit of lawn and landscaping.



This is one of those things you can really do only once and that you luck into and just come across. I just like the idea of tracking these places down, as well as exploring the ideas behind the mind of a Utility deciding to do this, and how it replicated the feel of homes in different neighbourhoods.

"During the 1950s and 1960s, the Hydro-Electric public utilities in the metropolitan region of Toronto built structures known as 'Bungalow-Style Substations.' These stations, which have transforming and switching functions, were constructed in a manner that mimics the style and character of the different neighborhoods... there are about 100 of these structures located on residential streets in the central and the suburban parts of the greater Toronto area."

All in all rather neat.

Robert Frank Extravaganza

At the end a nice Easter Break (well, it had a 4 year old's birthday party in the middle of it...), I sat down to read the long Vanity Fair article on Robert Frank: Robert Frank's Unsentimental Journey - amazingly (VF, The New Yorker etc never seem to have the article you want to read online), they have the whole article on their website.

Charlie LeDuff in Vanity Fair on a Trip with Frank (at 83) to China:

...“It amazes me,” he said. “It’s a book of such simplicity, really. It doesn’t really say anything. It’s apolitical. There’s nothing happening in these photos. People say they’re full of hate. I never saw that. I never felt that. I just went out to the street corners and looked for interesting people. O.K., I looked for the extremes, but that’s because the mediocre, the middle, it’s bland and that bores me.

“They called the book drab and sad. But at that time photography wasn’t that advanced. It’s not drab and sad. This is what it was. I had no idea. There was no agenda. I was absolutely amazed when I went to the South. The stupidity. It was sadistic then.

“But looking at these pictures now, I don’t see what all the fuss was.”

The truth of the matter is the book was a drive-by job. The pictures feel intimate, but in a way they are, like their creator, cold and Germanic. He did not stop for lunch at the sharecropper’s house. He did not know the name of the undertaker for whom the funeral was held. “No time, no time. I had to move,” he remembered. And so he piled into his Ford Business Coupe and kept heading west.

“I only ever spoke to one person,” he said. “The woman who got married in Reno. She called up her father to say she was married and he hung up the phone on her.”...

...In the early morning, before sunrise, the ancient city was still cloaked in gray and shadow, and I stumbled through the stone streets in a bout of jet lag and self-loathing. Whom should I meet wandering the streets in a pair of blue work trousers looking fatigued and disoriented? It was Robert Frank, with his Russian-manufactured Lomo point-and-shoot camera, tears in his eyes. I watched him take snaps for a while and roll a little video before his legs started to give out. We settled on a noodle shop and ordered tea and potatoes and sour buns.

He’d been having dreams on this fantastic trip to China, he told me. Undoubtedly the last trip before the Ultimate Trip. He talked about ego, the marrow and the mistake of the artist. The sacrifices one makes in pursuit of genius. “The children. That’s my regret. There is so much guilt there,” he said, rubbing some imaginary stain on the plastic tablecloth...

...“So do you like China?,” I asked.

“Not when I see this,” he said, referring to the old people dancing to a mindless tune. “I see this and I think, Obey. No, I like America. I’ve become an American absolutely.”...

...Robert Frank is an enigma: hard and empathetic and melancholic all at once. He abhors schmaltziness and syrup. I asked him if he would like to see a photograph of my baby. He answered, “Why should I want to see that?”

It is the same with him about photography. Digital photography destroys memory, he believes, with its ability to erase. Art school is another problem, teaching students to be blind. Editors are worse—they poke the artist’s eyes out. Photography: one minute it’s not art at all. Then perhaps it is. And then again it is not. That’s Robert Frank.

“There are too many images,” he said. “Too many cameras now. We’re all being watched. It gets sillier and sillier. As if all action is meaningful. Nothing is really all that special. It’s just life. If all moments are recorded, then nothing is beautiful and maybe photography isn’t an art anymore. Maybe it never was.”

And maybe it is his fault. Who would believe that a hairy little man could take snapshots of nothing and make millions of dollars? Anyone can take a snapshot. So, maybe, anyone can be famous if he gets lucky once.

Frank watched the dancers for a long spell, until his wife appeared, twirling among them. The old man laughed a real laugh. “I am happy today."...

In the course of reading the article, I looked up the Steidl website for the new anniversary edition of The American's they are publishing (I'm sure the pre-publication orders are piling up...) and found a great pdf on what they are calling The Robert Frank Project :



"“The Robert Frank Project” is an ambitious long term publishing programme which encompasses Robert Frank’s complete oeuvre – reprints of his classic books, reprints of some less well known small books, the publication of previously unseen projects, newly conceived bookworks, and his Complete Film Works in specially designed collector’s DVD sets. This ensures the legacy of this original and seminal artist and that Robert Frank’s work will be available and accessible for many years to come in a scheme and to a standard that the artist himself has overseen."

It has some great stuff in it such as "A Short History of the Publishing of The Americans", "Robert Frank in Göttingen " (for the design and printing of the new edition at Steidl) by Joel Sternfeld, and a listing of all the books/films published so far and those still to be published.

"Robert Frank and I must have made an interesting sight that warm July afternoon on Düstere Strasse. We resemble each other but he is older than I so no matter what we were up to we could have made sense as father/son.

And in one important sense we were: when I was becoming a photographer in the late 1960s, his book, “The Americans”was already a landmark–that’s much too weak a word but what other word for a body of work that changed the course of the river of Photography in a way that it could never take the old course again.

I would look at it before I went to sleep and in the morning I would reach for it like a smoker reaches for a cigarette. I needed to see it again. The country was so bleak in those sooty pages, each one an artifact ripped from the landscape and brought straight to the bindery. Frank had found a way to give form to the formless lives that went unmilled in America.



Two years before I encountered his book I had taken my first cross-country trip–three of us in an immense gold driveaway car that needed to be delivered to its owner in Los Angeles. We sailed from the East Coast to the West in less than three days–one of us sleeping across the back seat, one up front trying to stay awake with the driver.

It was December. We angled into New Mexico as the sun was going down and pulled into an A. and W. Root Beerstand. The dirt parking lot seemlessly joined the desert and the desert night. A cold wind came up as the sky turned black–the same cold wind every traveller without a room feels as the sun goes down.



A wrapper from someone’s fries blew into the desert in a moment of Americanized infinity. Frank’s book reminded me of that moment. And now here he was on Düstere Strasse in Göttingen and here I was beside him. Inside at Steidl “The Americans”was being printed–the reproductions were to be as close a match as possible to the Delpire edition that had set Photography on its fat ear when it first come out in 1958...(Joel Sternfeld)

"Finally, of course, the is the Americans itself and it's 50th Ann9iversary in 2009, with an exhibition going from The National Gallery of Art, to SFMOMA to The Metropolitan Museum of Art. 2008/2009 is going to be the year of Robert Frank and The Americans...

Gabriele Basilico: Silicon Valley, 07

(Gabriele Basilico, San Francisco, 2007, 2007; Digital pigment print; 23 5/8 in. x 31 1/2 in. (60 cm x 80 cm); Collection of the Artist; © Gabriele Basilico )

I mentioned this book way back at the beginning of the year in my selection of upcoming books for 2008 - Gabriele Basilico: Silicon Valley, 07 .

As I understand it, Basilico was commissioned by SFMOMA as part of a project exploring the current state of Silicon Valley and the effects of the technology boom on the region.

I think people tend to fall into one of two groups - either they like Basilico's work or they don't and can't really be bothered with it. Obviously I'm in the former group...

(Gabriele Basilico, San Francisco, 2007, 2007; Digital pigment print; 39 3/8 in. x 51 3/16 in. (100 cm x 130 cm); Collection of the Artist; © Gabriele Basilico)

This is a very nice, large size (larger than many of his recent books) and well printed book. But what's especially intriguing is how much of the work is in colour - I haven't counted, but probably close to a third of the pictures.

(Gabriele Basilico, San Francisco, 2007, 2007; Digital pigment print; 39 3/8 in. x 51 3/16 in. (100 cm x 130 cm); Collection of the Artist; © Gabriele Basilico)

Some of Basilico's colour wok has shown itself before, such as in the Beirut book for example, but not a lot compared to his B&W work. And it is black and white that he is predominantly known for.

A couple of things about that - first, the colour work is extremely well and beautifully done. But secondly, it runs seamlessly with the B&W work. Basilico makes it look easy here, but my opinion is that it's quite difficult in the first place to make successful colour and black & white photographs of the same subjects at the same time (or thereabouts - which is what Basilico seems to have been doing). Not only that, but I've rarely seen a monograph type photo book of one project or subject that works well with mixed colour and black and white - I can think of very few. Yet my experience here was that in looking through Silicon Valley, 07, I hardly even noticed when the work changed from one to the other and back again. But it influences the whole book overall.

I'd certainly love to see the exhibition of this work which is on at SFMOMA (on until June 15th) - going to have to keep an eye out for cheap flights...

(Gabriele Basilico, San Francisco, 2007, 2007; Digital pigment print; 23 5/8 in. x 31 1/2 in. (60 cm x 80 cm); Collection of the Artist; © Gabriele Basilico)

One the content of the book, Basilico does have a certain style - although he rings the changes within that. And while a number of the pictures clearly say "US of A" or "California", I was surprised to see how, through Basilico's eye, so many parts of the Western US look curiously like the parts of suburban extra-urban and post-industrial Italy he has explored for so long. The homogenization of such regions is a global phenomenon which more often than not submerges local uniqueness in favour of the generic.


(Gabriele Basilico, Redwood City, 2007, 2007; Digital pigment print; 23 5/8 in. x 31 1/2 in. (60 cm x 80 cm); Collection of the Artist; © Gabriele Basilico)

Basilico's work has a deceptive simplicity to it. There have been quite a number of books by Basilico that have come out in the last couple of years - a glut even... (and more yet slated to follow). This book has quickly become one of my favourites.

(Gabriele Basilico, San Jose, 2007, 2007; Digital pigment print; 23 5/8 in. x 31 1/2 in. (60 cm x 80 cm); Collection of the Artist; © Gabriele Basilico)

(Many thanks to SFMOMA for the images here)

The Other German School

(Dirk Reinartz)

Or one of them at least.

I mentioned Michael Schmidt the other day and our Icelandic correspondent pointed out a few of Schmidt's contemporaries and colleagues (a couple of whom I had come across before).

Interestingly all three of them were involved in the Folkwang Hochschule in Essen (and others, such as Paul Graham, seemed to become part of this loose informal grouping). Photographers and artists working together, exploring, learning usually seem to influence one another in certain ways. There is a common thread - thin and frequently tangled - which often binds them together. They may well explore different directions in their work, but there is frequently something that can be traced back to a common root.

It's been my experience that while photographers are often quite broad church in experiencing work that is quite different from their own, like most of us they also have a tendency to gather together with those of a like mind - often focusing their collective energy on solving the same problems from several different angles.


(Gosbert Adler)

Gosbert Adler teaches in Hannover, and lives and works in Berlin. One theme in his work is cars and traffic and the faces (orfacelessness) of those travelling cocooned in them. He was recently commissioned to photograph the Italian town of Reggio Emilia.

"His work for Reggio Emilia, entitled Streets, cars and drivers, is divided into four parts: the streets, the cars, the drivers and the river.

These concepts form part of a project that the author started about two years ago, related to cars and to "living with cars".

(Gosbert Adler)

Gosbert Adler has this to say about this project:

"I came to Reggio Emilia with one idea; I was interested in cars, and I wanted to continue working on cars, as I also dealt with this theme last year. I was interested in the idea of working in a country that I was familiar with for completely different reasons, for example, somewhere to take a holiday; I think it is interesting to see a place with different eyes. I visited places like the town's suburbs and the province's boundaries for the European Photography Week, for example, like the route between the towns of Reggio Emilia and Parma or between Reggio Emilia and Modena. I generally take photographs of places where there are no people, and then I create another ad hoc stage for them, for example, in cars. The street is the boundary between private life and public life, the limiting line, if you like. For me, the question of the theme, in this case, the Limit and the Boundary, is defined in the following way: can it be useful for me as a starting point? is it important for me? And then I start work, without thinking about the theme any longer. Everything must take shape independently. I dealt with the private life of persons in my previous work based on the objects they preserve or the objects that surround them; you could say that my work has always something to do with boundaries and with limits. I find the situation where the car is stationary at a red light interesting; this is a time when the persons are present for themselves, therefore they are concentrated. Sometimes they let their glance astray, but it is as if they were, to use a German expression, "in a shop window", but fundamentally they feel present for themselves. We are all familiar with the situation where we are stopped at traffic lights and we have the feeling of sitting at home, and this is the situation that I am interested in taking photographs of. These are not real portraits because sometimes the photograph is taken of people from the rear or from the side. Therefore, I am interested in the correlation between the private and the public sphere; to be in the car can be an important moment for my project"."

(Gosbert Adler)

Dirk Reinartz taught in Kiel and sadly died much too young in 2004. Although much of his long-term work is usually tied in with Richard Serra's sculptures, he has worked in many other areas too - his "Benchmarking" series, as well as Bismark in America have an undercurrent of dry humour to them. But his project totenstill is especially powerful:


(Dirk Reinartz)

In 1987 the photographer Dirk Reinartz began documenting the journey of sorrow: Dachau, Auschwitz, Ravensbruck, Treblinka....The list is a long one. Seven years later he had compiled a series of 200 black-and-white photographs of the remains of the 24 death camps. The similarities between the remains at the different places - the presence everywhere of railway tracks, barbed wire, concrete, windowless walls, and the absence of details - testifie to an inhuman mechanisation and the total institutionalisation of power and cruelty.

(Dirk Reinartz)

Dirk Reinartz began his photographic journey as a private project to convey to his son, born long after the war, the horrific reality of the past. Anyone who has seen these pictures of the deathly stillness of these places that were once concentration camps, the factories of death, can never repress their memory.

(Dirk Reinartz)

Lastly, Timm Rautert, who now lives and teaches in Leipzig.

(Timm Rautert)

"Rautert, who retired in 2005, started out as a photojournalist and conceptual programme artist (he liked to describe his work as an extended photography manual), then moved on to a rather melancholy documentation of the latter-day, increasingly invisible working world and of the way we exhibit works of art... Rautert's pupils extend the prevailing narrative element in their work to encompass the film-like sequences and epic structures of a photographic literature, as readily apparent in Falk Haberkorn's photography."

(Timm Rautert)

With all these three - and Schmidt - although their individual work has taken them in different directions, there is still something of a common thread that wends it's way through their approach to their work.

Manufactured Landscapes... not so good?

I must admit that I've resisted watching Manufactured Landscapes about Edward Burtynsky, even though both the local library and the local video store (are they still called that?) have it.

But reading Timothy Archibald's recent critique of it, I may finally have to take a look (although in my head I will probably be comparing it to two "documentary" films I watched recently the brilliant My Architect [actually, re-watched it as it was on TV] and the quirky, mildly annoying but illuminating William Eggleston in the Real World.)

Here are a few of Archibald's somewhat restrained comments:

"Friday night I rented this documentary and watched it at home. My wife loved it, felt it had an important message about man's impact on the environment, and was really taken by EB's photographs. I felt differently: if I ever wanted to make photography seem boring to a bunch of students, to discourage them from getting into the field, this is the film I would show them.




The DVD seemed like a promotional handout that would be given to collectors interested in purchasing E.B.'s work. In the same way that people who purchase a Toyota Prius now feel like they've done some good, this film seemed to try to encourage buyers that E.B. really cares, that this work is important, that the planet will be saved. Then...as we explore the DVD extras, Al Gore is chiming in on one of the segments. WTF??? His inclusion on this film was so expected, so calculated, any thinking viewer saw it coming....

...So...why do I hate on this film? Is it because E.B. is so popular and successful? Maybe. But I think there is this feeling of liberation that comes when you see a person so deeply invested in their art, instilling their photographs with all the weirdness they have in themselves, and just being honest about it all and mixing it all up together. E.B. didn't have that...he seemed so detached, like he could have been doing any number of things successfully for a living but just happened to choose photography. Well...what's the problem with that?

I think it just comes down to a revelation about my personal taste. I like looking at weird photographs done by unusual people. Is that O.K. to admit?"

And I'll finish, with an image not by Burtynsky, of one of Louis Khan's incredible buildings (see My Architect above)


(Photo by "The Nose" via Wikipedia)

31 Under 31 - Young Women in Art Photography

(Tealia Ellis Ritter My dream is to be an artist, Milan, Illinois, 2007 — from the series The Live Creature)

At the beginning of the year, the Humble Arts Foundation put out a call for submissions to an exhibition - 31 Under 31 - Young Women in Art Photography - aimed in part at emerging photographers. The exhibition opened at the beginning of the month (and by all accounts the opening was packed) and is showing at the Gallery at 3rd Ward in Brooklyn.

(Ahndraya Parlato Untitled, 2007 — from the series Inscape)

It's a little hard to find the photographs online right now (I hope Humble is going to put more of it up eventually?), but thanks to Flak Photo it is possible to view a few (halfway down the page). I'm also familiar with the work of several of the photographers.

(Alejandra Laviada - Stacking, Mexico City, Mexico — from the series Juarez #56 )

I must say, having recently looked at Photo District News' 30 Under 30 selection, that with a couple of exceptions the 31 women blow that selection out of the water. Now I realise that the criteria were a little different, but it struck me that the PDN choices were rather disappointing. They went with what was safe - and derivative - young photographers following in the tracks of the trends of the last 3 or 4 years. You could pretty much pick out your Amy Stein clone, or your Todd Deutsch clone or your Anders Peterson clone or you Philip-Lorca diCorcia clone etc.

(Jessica Bruah - Untitled #13 — from the series Stories)

Whereas from what I've seen, the Humble managed to find an exciting group of young photographers who seem much more focussed on finding their own way. I don't know, maybe that extra year helped... (never trust a photographer under 30 :-) ) - or maybe it was that they chose all women. But I also think it has a lot to do with the Humble Arts Foundation's own vision.

(Jaimie Warren - Untitled (Naoko/Squid Teeth), 2007)

"Lumi Tan, Director of Zach Feuer Gallery in NYC, and Jon Feinstein, Curatorial Director of Humble Arts Foundation co-curated the exhibition. "While it is impossible to capture the full breadth of international talent by female photographers in one exhibition," say Tan and Feinstein, "we feel that the diversity of subjects and intent are a clear representation of the wide range of skill and creativity that is flourishing today. By allowing the works to be culled from an open call, we hope to give exposure to unknown photographers while simultaneously showcasing more familiar names in contemporary photography.""

(Mary Mattingly -The Hunt, New York, New York)

The exhibition includes photographs by Amy Elkins, Ashley Lefrak, Dru Donovan, Elaine Stocki, Helen Maurene Cooper, Ka-Man Tse, Mary Mattingly, Ahndraya Parlato, Alejandra Laviada, Alana Celii, Alex Van Clief, Allison Grant, Catharine Maloney, Dina Kantor, Hannah Whittaker, Jessica Bruah, Jessica Roberts, Jaimie Warren, Kate and Camilla, Kelly Kleinschrodt, Marta Labad, Manya Fox, Molly Landreth, Nadine Rovner, Rachael Dunville, Reka Reisinger, Sara Padgett, Sarah Small, Sarah Sudhoff, Talia Chetrit and Tealia Ellis Ritter.

I think now it's time for the Humble to do "45 and over - Mid-Career Old Fart Photographers"

(Ashley Lefrak - Headless Horse, 2007 — from the series American Documents)

Photoshop Disasters

Here's a fun blog to look at over the weekend - Photoshop Disasters - mainly about magazine covers and newspapers...

A couple of my favourites:

Out Magazine: Hey Mr DJ Put A Record On I'm Microcephalic


It looks great, yeah great. You know, one little thing. No big deal. But if you could make the top of her head smaller? Just the top part? So it isn't hiding the banner. Yeah, no, I know, but you know what, no one cares about the top of her head. Just make it smaller. Yes, I know. Just make it smaller. Just do it. I'm just going to go ahead and make that an order. If you could do that, that would be great.

Oh, and if you could make her shoulder disappear, that would also be great.

and

FHM: Yakuza Babes


At 4am somewhere a designer wakes up and utters "Oh God I forgot to put her finger back in."

Make sure to take a quick look back through the archives.

(Oh - and I'm pretty sure Anne Coulter's hand really does look like an alien's - I don't think that's a phtoshop mistake...)

Michael Schmidt

My second post on this blog was a fairly brief one about Berlin photographer Michael Schmidt. It's quite hard to find a lot of information about Schmidt online and the same goes for his pictures - and yet his influence on many contemporary photographers is significant - among his pupils are Andreas Gursky and Ulrich Gorlich - and his working colleagues include Lewis Baltz, William Eggleston, Paul Graham and Robert Adams. Basically, you need to get the books or go to the shows.

Then other day I saw a refence to a rare N. American exhibition (he has actually had two solo shows at MoMA in 1988 and 1996) of his work at Mitchell-Innes & Nash in NY - which also has a small selection of pictures online.

"Schmidt arrived at a strategy of disseminating his work early on. He photographs large quantities of images without a specific project in mind. These images are then organized into groups with socially evocative titles, such as Ausländische Mitbürger (Foreign Co-citizens, 1973) or Berlin, Stadtbilder (Berlin, Images of the City, 1976-80). He exhibits the work in clusters or groupings intended to draw relationships among the images, often in a public context, and then, circumstances permitting, publishes a book of the images. Unlike many artist monographs, Schmidt’s books are not intended to catalog discrete images but rather to interconnect images dependant on those associations, mirroring his process of hanging photographs on the wall. The books tend to be light on text—often having none other than the title—and are truly more artist book than monograph, despite mass production by major publishers...

...Schmidt continued to explore a landscape and a city fraught with history in his pivotal work Ein-heit (U-ni-ty, 1991–94), shown at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, in 1996 and published in the same year. The importance of fragmentation as an interpretive trope is reinforced by Schmidt’s dividing with hyphens a word meaning wholeness, diametric forces embodied in the very title of the project. Conventional aesthetics of black and white photography were abandoned in favor of intentionally inconsistent prints, often with compressed, almost monochromatic tonal ranges, large grain, and poor detail, all of which served to reinforce his subjects. The book presents a startling record of Schmidt’s fascinations with the weight of history upon the German citizen, the cultural lineage behind his project, and the interrelatedness of past and present, and the impossibility of truly knowing, especially through photography. A project of epic scope, Schmidt included photographs that he made of portraits and landscapes in Berlin, photographs of objects of significance to the German populace, and re-photographed images resonant in collective German memory. By combining portraiture of ordinary citizens with landscapes changed through history and historical material, Schmidt points to the effects of the latter two on the subjects in the portraits. Examples of re-photographed materials include stills from Leni Reifenstahl’s 1934 Nazi propaganda film Triumph of the Will, photographs of soldiers of the German Democratic Republic passing a review, and a tablet inscribed with the third stanza of the German national anthem, the lyrics of which were used under the Weimar Republic and the Federal Republic. Images are doubled on facing pages, cropped tightly to fragment the scene, printed backwards, and otherwise freely manipulated.

Dense with precise historical references but also elusively vague at points, and lacking a declarative personal style, Schmidt’s work has not achieved the international market success of many of his better-known German contemporaries. Nonetheless, Schmidt continues to live and work in Berlin, weaving his own layers into the variegated strata of German culture and history. His legacy is already enormous. (from the 20th Century Encyclopedia of Photography)"

Probably the two easiest books of his to get hold of are Michael Schmidt: Berlin Nach 1945 and Irgendwo. His best, and possibly most important, book is Waffenruhe - but it's almost impossible to find and even more impossible to find at an affordable price ($1250.00 at Vincent Borrelli)

""Irgendwo" presents rather bleak views of province-life in the reunited Germany with suburban houses and village pubs, deserted low-cost supermarkets and historical buildings, as well as distanced motorways cutting through the landscape. Typically for his Modus Operandi Schmidt conflates architectural and landscape photographs with portraits and shots of seemingly unimportant details. It is only through the arrangement in groups - the interplay and dialogue between the images - that the individual images acquire their distinct meaning and the issue of a relation between spatial environment and individual biography comes into view. The photographs, however, do not depict particular places. In his work Schmidt seems to be more interested in tracing the loss of a subjective connection to "home as a place with identity":

"Home says nothing to me. In any case, home is what you carry with you, inside you. You remember places because you spent the most wonderful or the most horrible time there during your childhood. But these places have become more arbitrary, less specific. ... There is no such thing as an objective category that one might call 'home' any more. Such things take place subjectively nowadays."" (Michael Schmidt)

There's information on a previous exhibition of Irgendwo here

Personally I find looking at Schmidt's photogrpahy to be an intense and deep experience - in many ways it is a counterbalance to (or antidote to?) much contemporary photogrpahy, especially of the Gursky, Struth or Soth style. Even some of his "straightest" images have an air of enigma about them and their are layers to unravel - especially in a series. It provokes thought and imagination, having the depth of a good poem - and it takes as much work as reading a good poem to draw out its many meanings.