Walthamstow - butcher
'Traditional' butcher, London 2010 - Copyright Philip Cartland.
The 1998 Diana calendar has been up for 12 years!
1 March 2010 - 8:27am — AdminDeadly Mission

Deadly Mission - Antique shop, Bath, 2008 - Copyright Philip Cartland
Hank Janson (made to be a tough ex cop turned writer living in the Bronx) - real name: Stephen Frances was a pulp fiction writer in the 50s and early 60s. He lived and wrote in Britain and was revered in the paperback novel world - selling millions of copies of his books. However, he fell victim to censorship by the Home Office when, in January of 1954, the Old Bailey found him and his publisher guilty of obscenity. The Home Office burned or destroy hundreds of thousands of books, among them Janson's paperbacks. He escaped prosecution by fleeing to Spain.
Janson's books were largely cover illustrated by Reginald Heade (though the inferior examples of his work such as 'Deadly Mission' in the photograph, suggest an alternative artist was doing his best to provide a likeness, or that Heade was tiring in his craft). Heade's art collectively provides a perverse selection of fantasy ranging from femme fatale to the classic beautiful victim, all made to match titles such as 'Silken Menace' or 'Nyloned Avenger'.

Paul Seawright's Invisible Cities
Seawright in conversation with Russell Roberts:
RS: For some your work might be in danger of creating a neo-colonial perspective as it is firmly situated within the narrow confines of the Western art world. Is this something you have considered?
PS: Obviously I have considered it, worried about it even. After my first trip to Africa I considered moving on to something else, uncertain how to resolve what was inevitably going to be problematic, no matter how I approached it...
...I'd argue that an external perspective has value and maybe is even enhanced by a post-colonial perspective, or at least a perspective that rejects the dominant Western iconography of the African continent.
Seawright recognises that Africa is a photographers trap. His method, which give priority to a 'neutral' and muted stance, attempts to deny dramatisation

I wonder though, if, by rejecting the dominating iconography, by stepping into his specialised world of art, and succeeding, that by this very action, he stumps himself. Perhaps, with this book, he'll fail to find appeal, and so also fail to inspire the prerequisite deluge of imitatative imagery straining to establish its own domination (Africa is to be avoided like the plague, I've noticed). No, I doubt it. I detect, even in Seawright's desolation, his vacant spaces, a faint pictorialism, a seductive aura, even if it is conceptual, that inspires us viewers, even while our attention is called to notice the buzzing electricity that bypasses the shanty town
This book contains an introductory text by John Reader, and, at the back, a coversation with with Russell Roberts. I would set it right beside Guy Tillim's Avenue Patrice Lumumba on the shelf.
4 March 2009 - 11:26pm — AdminFig. Adam Broomberg & Oliver Chanarin
"Styleistically, they [Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin] avoid the overtly creative, opting instead for a paired down, formal approach bordering on neutrality"
Take the book Fig. Now I really think this is a great book, and hearing the authors speak has only confirmed to me that they are onto something new, they're breaking conventions and they're a smart pair. But I hardly ever pick up the book.
Does theory overwhelm me? Do I need to cognitise pain and suffering and injustice to renew it's effect on me? This covert description of suffering is still feeble, humans will do what they do, we don't need a conceptual memorial, we just need the killing, and therefore the recording of it, to stop.

Picture 01 - Room 202, Hotel Des Mille Collines, Kigali, Rwanda, Picture 02 - Heather Models 1, London UK
Yet there is more beauty in the passport blandness of the image on the right than anything to be found in Vogue. While there is no artifice in the technique, at least we can say that nature itself ignored such constraints entirely in the case of this girl and for a brief respite we can daydream
2 March 2009 - 11:11pm — AdminSuginami : a book by James Luckett
James, author of consumptive has been around since the beginning of time in photography blog years and I'm happy to announce his book, subtle, beautiful and understated.

7x7 inches / 78 pages / 68 tritone photographs
hardcover with dust jacket
Available for purchase from Blurb.com: http://tinyurl.com/BlurbSuginami
all the photographs from Suginami can be previewed on Flickr:
http://tinyurl.com/SuginamiPreview
also see an interview by Stacy Oborn at her blog The Space In Between:
One Thing Done Two Ways: Elijiah Gowin and James Luckett on Making a Book.
Francoise Huguier - Kommounalki
I came across Francoise Huguier's book, Kommounalki which presents images taken while renting a room in a communal apartment (Kommunalka in Russian) in Saint Petersburg. This book, with French texts, is a rarity, which you can purchase for only £20.

In her own words:
My very first days in these communal apartments in St Petersburg were absolutely perplexing, and I realised it would take me several stays and an inside contact to get to the bottom of these weird, closed-off environments.
Over several years I photographed the place and the daily life of the residents – and especially of Natacha, who set the rhythm of my visits. Implicitly, and without my realising it, she became the main strand in my narrative and in my desire to be there and stay there. She embodies the quintessence of these communal worlds and the magnetism of a city that has been gnawing at me for so many years. How many times have I stood simply hypnotised by these disturbing visions of light and shade?
Who spoke to me of ghosts? Who told me that at night in St Petersburg you can see the invisible and dream of the unutterable
6 November 2008 - 2:16pm — Admin
Maya Goded - 'Good Girls'

Picture 01 - Mexico city. 1999. Patti, 16 comes from Chiapas. When she arrived in Mexico city, she was raped by several men. She was rescued by the police who asked her to testify against her rapists. Afterwards, one of the police and her lawyer put her on the streets and became her pimps.
Picture: 02 - Mexico city. 2000. Afrodita is getting ready for her first communion by her mother, a prostitute. her father is the pimp of her mother
7 October 2008 - 9:52pm — AdminOn Lamu rats and kitty cats

Excerpt from 'Cargoes of the East', by Desmond Bradley Martin:
At high tide when, when the seawater level is almost as high as that of the drains, rats are forced up through the drains. Little boys enjoy catching them and showing them to little old ladies from Chicago. After such a display of doubtful goodwill, it is highly unlikely that the ladies will want to make another visit to Lamu. Attempts have been made to eliminate the rats, many of which are much larger than the Lamu cats. The last really major effort was made in the late 1950s. In 1959 the district commissioner proudly reported that 949 rats were caught, but a little later he lamented, 'Again the courage and stamina of the Lamu cats failed them and it is believed that rats actually eat the cats here. ~ Lamu district annual report, Kenya, 195
I heard these little fellahs (which must be the children of the big fellahs) before I saw them, I can't remember whether I switched the light on or used a flash, but it was one of those times where I didn't give myself much chance of catching anything at all, and in fact I forgot completely until several years later when i noticed them among my negatives.
17 September 2008 - 8:54pm — AdminSo you want to be a photographer?
The question of cash for writing reminds me of Paul Theroux; a while ago i read his book 'Sir Vidias Shadow'. Some writers, as Paul Theroux reveals about himself in this book, often have a sense of having to 'hide' (or at least not reveal, solidly) the fact that they are writers until they achieve some form of recognition (this is also true for photographers, as noted by Robert Adams who felt apologetic for being a photographer until he was earning money).
Saying that you want to write, or you intend to be a writer is not the same as saying, with confidence and absolute self belief, 'I am a writer.'
Publishing a book is one kind of recognition; a form of ritualised initiation, receiving acceptance from a successful writer is another (Naipaul accepts Theroux as writer). Any writer would be satisfied with this, but a little something is missing: would our writer not want to establish absolute certainty? Money may or may not be forthcoming - but gladly accepted if and when it does, it is the cherry on the cake, a final recognition; a medal of achievement from the reader. Money means that a writer can do writing all day and everyday if it so pleases him. When someone asks, ‚"What do you do?" you reply with comfortable finality: "I am a writer"
Had Theroux not achieved his recognition, would he have eventually stopped writing, I wonder? Probably not, but would he have called himself a writer? I propose, he would still be calling himself a teacher of English.
Ultimately it is the reader who bestows the title and money is one gauge of this, but writing from the heart does not require a title, nor recognition - except, surely, by at least one reader.
There is another perspective though, one where writing is a necessary skill for everyone. A journalist is a writer, a traveller can be a writer. Sebald, a master of writing (and found images - which he splices amongst his texts) himself, finds scientists to be better writers that bona fide 'writers'. Come to think of it, my favourite books are not written by writers but by journalists, scientists, investigators and the new writers of the age bloggers.
It seems this line of thought may also be true - we all now have a camera of sorts - for photgraphers. So you want to be a photographer? Perhaps this is good advice:
Don't, whatever you do, take a fine arts degree in photography, take a science degree (or a degree covering your subject matter to be, anything but photography) such as zoology, ecology, biology, agricultural science, or perhaps even an athropology degree, - being a doctor, too, would be ideal. This way your profession will pay for you, take you to interesting places and while your out there you can do photography.
17 September 2008 - 8:53pm — AdminLiu Zheng's, The Chinese
"The Chinese" Liu Zheng's vision of - something akin to Robert Frank's over indulged "The Americans"- is something of a retort to an enduring party line of perfect people with a perfect future under, of course, a perfect leadership, who might even be so bold as to claim immortality were their optimism not already spouting beyond capacity.

In Liu Zheng's tragedy we have Chinese who actually get old and die, have accidents or live in a less than perfect world, among a wide cast of subjects, from strippers, to beggars, to predatory business men to entertainers and asylum cases. If the 'perfect leadership' were to actually spend a moment or two reading this book they might find themselves having to sweep quite a few, well, marginal folk, up, in preparation for their perfectly happy olympics.
Liu Zheng's dedication to what appears to be a rather too true reality, allows us to register our own impermanence - we all share the same fate - while also questioning whether these Chinese are in fact marginalized and on the fringe, perhaps they are rather more the diverse norm, there might even be something of them in us.

An exceptional book, really, and in my view transcending by far Frank's self obsessed work. I always get the feeling that Frank describes something not even there. By not allowing his own interpretation - he does have one doesn't he - he's kind of letting the storm carry his work where it will.
Furthermore, while Frank seems to heavily criticize, there's always a statement to be found somewhere in his work, Zheng allows his subjects to speak. His images reflect people in a world that really exists. Were it not for the notoriety of the 'Americans', perhaps there should not even be a comparison, save the stringing of images bit. Maybe we're really looking more in the line of Diane Arbus, without the freakery side.
17 September 2008 - 8:51pm — Admin
