Released from the tyranny of a prescribed medium, it’s lovely to revisit the easy pleasure of 35mm colour negative film, and keen readers will know that this tends to get processed in the cheapest local minilab, and in one hour. Straight off the boat/bus travel combination, and it’s hard to describe the delightful frisson of anticipation familiar to anyone who uses film, of the moments, hours, sometimes days between delivering the canisters and collecting the developed film.
Schauer is close to frisson but also watery, the needles-on-the-skin feeling of an envigorating yes, shower, or waterfall, so says my Langenscheidts, which spent the week resting lightly and without disturbance on the kitchen table in England. Could be it translates more closely to the Dutch chickenskin – goosebumps. It’s the first time in Germany without a dictionary since childhood, and the immersion felt as comforting as did surrendering independent travel for the safety of a supported visit.
Also there’s schauder – to shudder or shiver, possibly with recognition, and schau – an exhibition or show. Hmm.
My German hosts are some of the most travelled people ever, so they certainly know something about linguistic immersion. (The serenely accommodating Maiers may themselves be the subject of a documentary piece by a local newspaper journalist, who had connected with us via a piece of artwork redolent with Seaham seaside artifacts.)
This family’s photo archive contains a series of small black and white photos of one small child, who ran happily to play skipping games at a kindergarten in Rinteln in the early 50s. There are no photos unfortunately, of Dessau or Wittenberg in the early 1990s, although the associated work diaries and daybooks are in storage somewhere. More to come on all of this, including some interim results from these rolls of film, plus a roll of TMax shot in Stuttgart, to be processed in the darkroom at No 7 in coming days.
The intention behind the photos I hope will represent a feeling of kennzeichnende Bedeutungslosigkeit which is to say almost remote, almost abstract, though pictorial compositions, clean lines and unfussy but with emotional warmth. Possibly it is characteristic insignificance: imbued with meaning, and at the same time free of specific geographical signifiers. Now there’s a dialectic! As often happens, the concept grows with the work. So we shall see. Frisson indeed.
Schauer
Released from the tyranny of a prescribed medium, it’s lovely to revisit the easy pleasure of 35mm colour negative film, and keen readers will know that this tends to get processed in the cheapest local minilab, and in one hour. Straight off the boat/bus travel combination, and it’s hard to describe the delightful frisson of anticipation familiar to anyone who uses film, of the moments, hours, sometimes days between delivering the canisters and collecting the developed film.
Schauer is close to frisson but also watery, the needles-on-the-skin feeling of an envigorating yes, shower, or waterfall, so says my Langenscheidts, which spent the week resting lightly and without disturbance on the kitchen table in England. Could be it translates more closely to the Dutch chickenskin – goosebumps. It’s the first time in Germany without a dictionary since childhood, and the immersion felt as comforting as did surrendering independent travel for the safety of a supported visit.
Also there’s schauder – to shudder or shiver, possibly with recognition, and schau – an exhibition or show. Hmm.
My German hosts are some of the most travelled people ever, so they certainly know something about linguistic immersion. (The serenely accommodating Maiers may themselves be the subject of a documentary piece by a local newspaper journalist, who had connected with us via a piece of artwork redolent with Seaham seaside artifacts.)
This family’s photo archive contains a series of small black and white photos of one small child, who ran happily to play skipping games at a kindergarten in Rinteln in the early 50s. There are no photos unfortunately, of Dessau or Wittenberg in the early 1990s, although the associated work diaries and daybooks are in storage somewhere. More to come on all of this, including some interim results from these rolls of film, plus a roll of TMax shot in Stuttgart, to be processed in the darkroom at No 7 in coming days.
The intention behind the photos I hope will represent a feeling of kennzeichnende Bedeutungslosigkeit which is to say almost remote, almost abstract, though pictorial compositions, clean lines and unfussy but with emotional warmth. Possibly it is characteristic insignificance: imbued with meaning, and at the same time free of specific geographical signifiers. Now there’s a dialectic! As often happens, the concept grows with the work. So we shall see. Frisson indeed.
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