Final resting place - paradise...
In 1998 Tacita Dean set out for the 'prim tax haven', Cayman Brac, a Caribbean island, in search of Donald Crowhurst's trimaran, the Teignmouth Electron. The Cayman net news outlines its history prior to Dean's journey as follows:
"After Crowhurst’s suicide, the Electron was taken by salvagers to Jamaica and bought from auction in 1969 by Kingston hotelier and businessman Larry Wirth.
The Electron stayed in the Wirth family until 1973, when she was purchased by Bunnie Francis, a charter operator based at Trelawny Beach Hotel, near Montego Bay. Francis adapted and operated it as a tourist boat.
By 1978, the Jamaican tourist trade had been hit by political unrest and the boat lay in dry dock up for sale. It was purchased by George McDermot, who was living in Jamaica at the time, in 1975. He later sold her to his brother Winston."
During Winston's ownership, when Ms Dean arrived. she found the yacht lying battered and weathered upon a beach, shadowed by a solitary palm, and looking, perhaps, like the washed up bones of Crowhurst himself. She filmed and photographed the wreckage, drawing on Crowhurst's loneliness, his manic time madness, his 'Sin of Concealment', his final countdown.
While on the island she also filmed another of her, particularly quirky, coincidental discoveries, the ruined 'Bubble House' built by a Frenchman who was imprisoned for fraud and therefore unable to finish it; Dean writes:
"Deserted, and half-completed, the bubble house stood like a futuristic vision; like a statement from another age. We thought it was a temple belonging to a sect, or a church constructed by the Mafia We knew we had come across something other-worldly; the perfect companion to the Teignmouth Electron."
To me her Teignmouth Electron work is an exotic memorial, if you like, to madness, folly and failure, as expressed in the Crowhurst tragedy.
One must know Crowhurst's story to fully appreciate Dean's work and if the story does catch you, like it did me, the essential viewing should be the documentary film 'Deep Water' directed by Louis Osmond and Jerry Rothwell.
While this film tells almost all there is to know - making, too, an interesting parallel with Bernard Moitessier who in contrast both mastered the sea, and more importantly, himself, while forfeiting the possible glory and media heroism of winning the race, to 'save his soul' - the essence of Deans exotic bone sifting archeology, besides the artified journalism, is her tangential personal journey to the island and her driftings through the works of JG Ballard and Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, in search of the unknowable truth behind Crowhurst's predicament.
Sources:
Brac's Land wreck makes TV fame
Submitted by Philip Cartland on 18 January 2008 - 8:35pm.3 states of mind
David Goldblatt's, 'South Africa - The Structure of Things Then', published in 1998, is about homes, shops, churches, memorials, ruins, anything that resembles a structure in South Africa, and is illustrated with the clarity of a large format camera and a thinking eye. A considerable caption is attached to each image and through it we compile a mental picture of the roots and ideological structures of Apartheid South Africa as expressed through the architecture.
But by describing the subjective mental states of the Volk (Afrikaners, chosen by God) as manifest in their buildings Goldblatt steps himself out on a subjective limb. Most notably, he discovers a 3-stage change in the architectural design of the Afrikaner protestant churches beginning with the decorative and graceful eloquence of the Gothic churches of the late 19th century, through the powerful dominating, radically vertical and triangulated churches of the late 1940's to 60's, and into the enclosed womb like churches of the 1970's and 80's.
Goldblatt suggests these stages mirror the gradual growth of confidence and rootedness of the Volk, peaking after the 1948 victory of the National Party; defenders of "Christian National values against Atheism, communism, liberalism, humanism and racial miscegenation".
The 50's and 60's where periods of huge power, dominated by fiercely skyward architecture, an Afrikaner renaissance, if you like. But as the system of Apartheid gradually came under attack, through the 70's, 80's and 90's, the churches became more inward looking, withdrawn, allowing only, for example, a minimal number of small windows opening to a hostile world, comfortably cocooning the Volk among their own company.
Though Goldblatt finds little corroboration among the church architects who, perhaps, built according to accepted requirements of the time without full awareness of any parallels in the historical course of events, in light of his comprehensive coverage throughout the book - of which this is only one tiny piece of particular interest to myself - he makes a very compelling case.
This book brings far less attention to itself than it deserves.
Submitted by Philip Cartland on 13 January 2008 - 9:46pm.Timothy O'Sullivan
For Timothy O'Sullivan reality was more than the literal, direct and 'physical' reflection of the world. Truth, was simple and direct, but came from small adjustments in the literal reality that brought into play the subjective. His camera portrayed the way a place seemed rather than how it actually was.
O'Sullivan learn't his technique from documenting the American civil war. Cameras of the period could not catch the action, as they do today, and this fact forced him to build a reality of war from mundane scenes that stood around the action; the context of war.
Later in 1871 O'Sullivan joined the United States Geographical Surveys West of the One Hundredth Meridian led by Lt. George Wheeler. The purpose was to survey the land for possible future occupation, while also gaining a consensus of the Native American population. His photographs were to be used to prepare the 'Wild' West as an inviting destination for progress, not only for the sake of civilization, but for the continued funding of the surveys.
Leaders of the surveys such as King, Lt. George M. Wheeler, and J.W. Powell tended to use the beautiful, picturesque, and sublime ideologies in writing their survey reports, and hence their hired photographers usually resorted to them as well. But O'Sullivan was unique. While fulfilling the requirements of the survey he was also able to pursue his own instinct for truth and art using devices he had learnt during the civil war.
Though he photographed completely without public acclaim during his life time, he is now renowned for his ability to amplify the telluric beauty of the geological Western American landscape by means of very simple but understated techniques. For example, the top photograph in the accompanying strip of images, depicts Canyon De Chelly, New Mexico, 1873, and shows how he ever-so-slightly tilts the camera's angle to exaggerate the great towering rocks height and weight over the tiny encampment below in the valley.
Jonathan Green in "American Photography" presents Timothy O'Sullivan as something of a photographic renegade. Unlike Muybridge, for example, who added clouds to his picturesque scenic images by using his 'Sky Shade'(1) technique, O'Sullivan seems to accept the limitations of his medium. He exploited, instead, the starkness arising from the wet collodion processes lack of sensitivity to blue, by sometimes integrating the white sky into a series of balanced shades and planes of the geology creating an almost abstract image (image 2).
If there is an answer to endless question: what is reality, surely here we have it in O'Sullivan's images, and as valid today as it was then.
In Elizabeth Paul's words:
"His approach accepts the limitations of subjectivity and photography to discern and portray the whole truth or reality of a subject, and seeks, instead, to gain and portray an impression of the subject truthfully, accurately, and effectively." ~ see her excellent thesis on the subject
(1) Muybridge solved the problem using two different methods:
a - He combined a negative of clouds with a negative of a landscape, when making a print.
b - Muybridge also used a board flap inside his camera to block the brighter light from the sky during a portion of an exposure. He called the feature a sky shade.
Submitted by Philip Cartland on 7 January 2008 - 8:31am.Cristóbal Hara
Cristóbal Hara has published two books of an intended trilogy 'The Imaginary Spaniard' and 'Autobiography'.
Bloody scenes (like the pictured car accident), funerals and images of dead animals may be discouraging at first, I must admit it took me a couple of goes before I was hooked, and, one could easily be forgiven for mistaking Hara for just another photojournalist with what at first may appear fairly striaght forward images, but on closer inspection a specific symbolic sequencing of images emerge, giving the books their own particular meaning.
'The Imaginary Spaniard' consists of 100 or so pages of both darkness and humor. A priest stands holding forth a crucifix while a wooden penis hangs out from beneath his robe. Another's robe is adorned with a topless woman more likely to be found in a cheap men's magazines. Catholicism is defiled, it seems, but by the costumed faithful themselves.
Bullfighting, another theme, is far from glorious and heroic. The bullfighters are neither tall nor handsome nor caught in perfect posture. The bulls die ingloriously, hampered by a pack of snapping dogs, and then their bodies are dumped by bulldozer. Death, sex, power, nature and religion entwine in this fiesta-like setting, broken only by the dullest of street scenes, empty of people, interludes, like chapters.
The parting image is sad, under the baking sun a downtrodden dog looks back at us, perhaps it is on the brink of starvation.
'Autobiography', the second of the books, raises the temperature a little. Horses feature throughout, often in panic mode, while shirtless handlers display their power over them, tender only with the foals. Among this apparent chaos a picture shows two horses in private and tender fornication.
Jesus appears frequently, mirrored by wild trees or celebrated by white cloaked people from the holy processions of Easter, either look ominous or disheveled, certainly not as the tourist would wish to see. Death and sex, religion, violence all the same themes hit the stage as the book builds to a crescendo of horses leaping through flames during what appears to be the traditional 'Luminares' fiesta on the eve of Saint Anthony's day, the patron saint of four footed beasts. Riding the horses through the flames purifies them.
The final series of the book leave us with burnt out effigies, paper mache and plastic cartoon like dolls, with super sexualized parts burnt, smoldering into the night. Again we are led to find out for ourselves that these effigies are burnt after March 19 celebrations, St. Joseph's Day, eve of the vernal equinox, and the beginning of Spring. This is all leading me to believe the book is modeled loosely around the various seasonal festivals.
I really like these books, but too much is spent on the burnt out effigies and throughout the carved images of Jesus, both which may have been best applied in small ammounts.
I'm looking forward to the 3rd in the series.
Submitted by Philip Cartland on 1 January 2008 - 12:01pm.