Notes
On other presentations.
The guy with too many images. Unfathomable. 14 images (of a brief stating 3-7) presented in a series of 7 diptychs It came across as indecision and the inability to self-moderate under the guise of “I have a lot to say”. This is very interesting as when photographed well, a single image has the ability to speak more clearly than 100. The critique was baffling at best. The guy is a commercial photographer. So what if he knows how to use light.
Commending “pin sharp” focus: This is redundant as the student used high-end DSLRs. No skill required.
Paper stock. I advised Ki she should try matte paper as, given her subject matter and topic, it would be more immersive. The gloss paper, like glass, acts as a barrier, particularly being reflective. Full bleed and unframed was also discussed. Although she did present her work on matte, the framing and scale of the work make me believe that she did not understand the selection and purpose.
I’m am thrilled my newsprint suggestion for Jack worked out. Why he scrunched up 2 of the works is a mystery considering the reductive text and plastic toy soldiers instil a sense of disposability in their mere existence. The wet plates are sublime, but the presentation falls very short and lets the work down. I’m thinking woodblock mounts in separated rows to maintain a connection with the 3x5 grid of the chapel windows (I can’t remember the name of it) that has inspired him. We discussed this a month ago and he seemed pretty intent on keeping them on the mount. Rebecca gave Jack great feedback about ways to explore presenting the plates. I hope he takes it on board.
Anna copped it. It was very disappointing to see her work get pulled apart with many of the delicate nuances, including the stunningly humble image of the Maltese man at prayer, overlooked entirely. He holds a bible, resting the bottom of the book gently on the pristine 1970s kitchen table. Equally pristine matching chairs are visible on the left and right edge of the frame. Chin down and eyes on the pages, his hands reflect love and respect for that which lays within. His face is shadowed as the sun glows through the fine mesh curtains behind him. I can hear the angles …