2016
Archival Pigment Print
40″ x 60″
edition of 10
2016
Archival Pigment Print
40″ x 60″
edition of 10
1985
1992 | 2011
2013
Archival Pigment Print
40″ x 60″
edition of 10
2002
Archival Pigment Print
40″ x 49″
edition of 8
1990 | 2015
Archival Pigment Print
32″ x 48″
edition of 10
2002 | 2008
Archival Pigment Print
31″ x 60″
edition of 10
1992 | 2008
Archival Pigment Print
32″ x 48″
edition of 10
2002
Archival Pigment Print
40″ x 60″
edition of 8
2007
Archival Pigment Print
36″ x 48″
edition of 8
1990 | 2008
Archival Pigment Print
38″ x 48″
edition of 10
This image more than the recent others reminds me most of my childhood fever dream and also of staring out the side window while driving past fields and trees.
Before I began wearing contact lenses I could relax my vision until it was blurry and I used to do this often while zoning out. I liked the way the world could switch in and out from clear to soft. Combined with movement and the rhythmic swaying of travel, it was beautiful.
Completing these Sidelong images has given me some ideas on things to experiment with for the next body. I went out in the snow yesterday and shot a small test to check it’s validity. It worked quite well and gave an interesting result, but I will likely have to use faster equipment as it requires a higher frame rate per second.
“Motion is the most fundamental observation about nature at large. It turns out that everything that happens in the universe is some type of motion. There are no exceptions. The study of motion was given the name physics in the fifth century BCE in Ancient Greece.” I’ve begun reading an interesting series of books about physics called Motion Mountain and this is one of the first things they discuss in volume one as they build one premise on another.
Perhaps this explains my creative interest in movement.
2020
Working backward in time through the collection of material for Sidelong it feels like the images have less visible structure and recognizable elements in them. Not sure if this is good or bad. But definitely more painterly and some of them look like colourfields in watercolor.
I’ve been thinking more about my dream and the relative speeds of close versus distant objects. The closer an object the faster it appears to be moving. Despite my dream fear, this idea of proximity and velocity are somehow visually appealing. In my dream the speeds are so fantastic I equate them to orbital velocity – 28,000km/h, the speed required to orbit the earth.
Interesting patterns and rhythms are on occasion surfacing as I progress through the stockpiled Sidelong images. Means I have to move slowly and not make premature assumptions about the material. But it’s bringing out some pretty cool results – more of my dream geometry.
When I was much younger I used to have this incredibly frightening dream – usually when I was ill. It would begin with me safe and disembodied in an all-white detail-less world – calm and enticing. An impending sense of doom would gradually creep over me as I realized I was rolling smoothly at a terrific velocity. Gentle undulations would begin in the surface beneath me getting stronger and rougher. In the distance and all around me I could make out chaotic texture in my formerly smooth white landscape – and all of sudden, I’m on the chaos and it shakes me apart and I shatter… and bolt awake freaking out.
Even now recalling this is making me a little anxious – these dreams were so vivid and extremely frightening. Although, looking at these latest Sidelong images I recognize the movement streaks coupled with negative white space – I think perhaps they are similar to parts of my dream.
Had a dream the other night in which I was explaining my work to somebody – don’t know who. I was of course using all the usual adjectives which were – somehow unsatisfying, when trying to explain why movement is so important to me in my work. And then there was this aha moment, where I said something like, “my aim is to simplify the visual experience of the city. “
And that’s it exactly. It’s not quite distill visual elements, not quite reveal the visual foundation – it’s simplify. There is an over-abundance of visual information in an urban environment and I am seeking the core – that which binds our activities with our emotions.
These latest Sidelong images are much more delicate and dream like – showing ghostly outlines countered with intense saturated smears. This is a new direction for this body of work. Almost similar to something I happened upon some time ago with an image in the Convergent series.
At times I imagine they are the view through a super intense snow squall… in summer.
For the past 9 years and 3 bodies of work – Light Signatures, Convergent and now Sidelong, I have captured all the source material while peddling my bicycle in Toronto traffic. When I tell people this they are mostly surprised – and afraid.
Doing this places the viewer right in the midst of great activity. Shooting from within traffic as it moves is essential to the experience. I believe our principle interaction with the city is founded on movement. The city houses the greatest quantity of concentrated human activity, more than anywhere else on earth – a hive. This great density of human activity has a multiplicative effect on creativity and ingenuity.
Working more on Sidelong this past week I remembered in the mid 90’s shooting my pal Andrew cycling fast through the woods in a massive smearing green panning shot which I later worked into something similar to these pieces. That and the Drive Me I – black and white infrared piece from 1990 were my first real forays into this investigation.
And what is a moment then? What is the length? There is much beauty in a moment, in drawing out a moment, in smearing out a moment into a wafer thin layer of sight and sound. In doing so, we see a moment’s true composition, it’s fundamental components, it’s elements, it’s structure, it’s essence. So much of which is not so readily apparent when taken as a whole. Particularly when there are so so many more “moments” stacked up behind it steadily and rapidly accreting on it’s heals waiting for us to ingest, digest and comprehend on some higher level – for the high function purpose of survival. So much stimulation and information it’s very difficult to slow down and see – really see, let alone meaningfully think about and consider what we see.
This is all so fleeting and ephemeral – so temporary. Everything we are, everything we do is so transient. Time is a series of events – all temporary. All moments. None permanent. They only remain as memory if they even make it that far and even then only if they are not later culled from the minutia of our lives until all we recall is a general sense of things. So much of what we experience is fleeting and momentary.
Had a dream last night in which… I think, I was speaking with someone about my early black and white images. How even then I was focused on eliminating distracting elements in my compositions. The word I remember saying was isolate. The details are hazy now and I don’t even remember which of my black and whites I had in mind at the time but this idea of isolating the important elements has stuck with me this morning.
Isolate still applies to my current efforts. It’s my goal no matter the technique.