what's in a name?

So...I changed the name of the blog:)

Is it a question of changing identities?
hm...not really
I was unhappy about the name from the very start.
I wanted it to contain the outside and the inside. the world in front of the lens, me behind the lens and the lens itself -and the whole that is more than the sum of its parts. I didn't want to pretend at revealing the "real" and "true"...I didn't even want to pretend at going for them. My photographs are my ways of placing a frame on what's in front, and placing what's in front within a frame...and adding a point of focus (more often than not) somewhere in there. And nothing more...nor less. Not pure idiosyncrasies...but then not much beyond either.
And for what I was aiming for, the previous name sounded way too pretentious.
Add to this the fact that I had misspelled "lens" (pointed out to me by a very dear friend who thought I had misspelled it on purpose as a clever joke of some kind...thank you phil for thinking me so deep:) well, the name just had to go.

So, here's a new one. Točka is Croatian for "point". Photographs (mine and everybody elses) seem to be...and be about: points!
Points in time. Points in space. Points of focus. Points of view. They bring up points. They make points. They prove points. Would it be too obvious to point to grain and pixels?
They also defy the "pointedness" of a moment - once made, they take up more space. They endure, they go on. A point becomes a line...that goes on until at a certain point, it stops. And we're back to the beginning.

So...am I now perfectly happy with the name?
Hm...not yet...but getting there
Is it then a question of a crisis of identity?
Well, in a way. If this means questioning and restating who one is and what one is trying to portray out...then most definitely! This seems like a somewhat permanent condition though. One that is not going anywhere anytime soon (at least not until life gives up on being fun). So, would I actually call it a "crisis"? Being a firm believer in the power of positive thinking: most definitely not! It's not a crisis of identity - it's just...its very nature.

:)

if u were to...

...go to outer space and wanted to show those you fine there what life on earth felt like on jan 21st 2010...




p.s. assignment by jeff jacobson. thank you for that :)

luck be a lady tonight

on my birthday, well into the first semester, right at the point when tensions were getting high, tears were always just waiting around the corner and most of us were waking up with the though: where the fuck did this stupid idea of becoming a photographer come from?, my girls took me to atlantic city. they had an assignment to do and I brought my cameras more for feeling like I was doing something than I actually thought I would press the shutter at all (photographing was far from pleasurable at that point). well...good that I had them! getting of the bus, we landed in a parallel universe and we started taking pictures till our film supplies were out.
I discovered my format (the fabulous square) and we all remembered why we were photographers - because we loved it!

:)

Dorian Greying - photo style

I saw the Robert Bergman show on thursday

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/10/12/AR2009101202981.html

It was one of those days when u feel...all wrong for some reason but u know the reason just isn't. Well, walking aimlessly around the city helps (not just any city, mind you;). And that, want it or not, brings you to Chlsea. And since u're there, u might as well pop in a gallery. And...u know it won't do any good - I mean, u're in no mood to appreciate art, if anything, other people's ups will only make u feel worse about your downs, but...well u're here and u might as well...and then u go in and u forget all about whatever u were feeling for no reason whatsoever and...go wow.
And it wasn't really all that wowish but it was wow enough to snap me out.
Some really interesting portraits, really good prints and little pieces of trivia you get when talking to gallery staff (I never did that before but I'm getting into the habit and...honestly, it would make the whole show worth while even if the pictures were not there:). So, here's what makes Mr Bergman special (besides for his work:):
All of the portraits being shown were made between 1986 and 1995. And then...it took 14 years for him to decide the work was ready for display! It was due partly to him wanting to have it perfect (prints, edit..I'm guessing) and partly to the fact that he thought, when displayed, the work should be displayed in the National gallery in Washington. So...after 14 years, that's what happened. When it opened in the National Gallery, the same (only slightly smaller) exhibit opened in New York's PS1 and then an even smaller one in Yossi Milo gallery in Chelsea (which is the one I saw). Well, cudos to being patient!


But, one thing that struck me the most, and which s actually what I set out to write about (way to get sidetracked..again:) is that I was looking through the book of said portraits A Kind of Rapture, published in 1998 and one portrait struck me as looking quite different than the one exhibited - even though it was the same portrait. Then I opened the PS1 catalog and,sure enough, the difference was very apparent there too: it was the same portrait but the man in the 1998 looked a good couple of years younger than the one in the 2009 catalog or the one on the (2009) wall. Due to difference in printing, the book "version" had smoother, pinkish skin while the newer print emphasized the roughness, the grey facial hair (invisible in the first one!) and the desaturated style made the man altogether aged by quite a bit.

It was just funny to see that, even though the photograph sets out to freeze time, to make a moment last forever, this subject found a way to grow older together with the rest of the world. Intentional or not, Mr Bergman, how very Oscar Wildish of you!
I thought it quite amusing, it made my day!

And then I proceeded to have coffee at my favorite city coffee shop Grumpy (those in New York, I highly recommend it: 20th street b/w 7th and 8th) and, on my way home,stumbled upon a small movie theater (E 12th street) with an "alternative" movie program at the cheapest price I've seen here and there I stayed to see a Chilean movie "the Maid" which was so lifelike and (I'm gonna be very politically incorrect, be warned) very European that loving it just came naturally and there was no need to question it.
Well, sidetracked again but, what I'm trying to say, no matter how it started, thursday was a great day. Thank you New York :)