Bongout. Explicitely exquisite.

Corpulent. Sexual. Horror. Ferile. Misogynous. Traditional. Flesh. Bestial. Mythical. Glistening. Trapped. Sensual. Invertebrate. Death. Red. Blue. Insect. Hooked. Nature. Noble. Cold. Birth. Fetish. Fear. Sublime. Pain. Erotic. Pornographic. Symbolic. Beautiful. Alien. Disgust. Legendary. Instinct. Wet. Capture. Primal. Visionary. Disgust.

And yet always clean, the luminosity perfectly balanced, Daikichi Amano is in total control of the visual he gives us, which provokes a beguiling synesthesia. It feels like a meat chamber, but the images are humid, a warm breath gone cold, the paradox of life is present throughout in a fantasy that takes you beyond its surreal form, and the brief lapses of reason that pierce the viewings whisper, in horror and amazement, this is no photoshop job.

Quelle douleur exquise.

The exhibition runs until 24th October@ the Bongout Showroom

Filed under: photography

Waty: fragmented thoughts

Writer, photographer, film-maker, and soon-to-be Berliner Waty is strickingly Jacques Brel meets Jean-Paul Belmondo, or maybe it’s just the eternal leather jacket appeal thing. He tells me his work revolves around three cornerstones of our existence: Sex, time and death. How very Baudelaire of him.

His identity series struck me as particularly poignant in this light. I could not help but feel unease, the discomfort of “etre mal dans sa peau”. These plural, transexual faces, vulnerable, questioning, embody a certain disquiet and strike taboo: looking at sex and death in our judgement of beauty, especially in facial features, is linked to subconscious imperatives of reproduction. Is there not, then, a self-effacement in these portraits? He seems to say “these are me” and yet “these are not me” and again “are these me?”, “where am I?”, “where are they?”, who are we? I am not sure whether these faces are denying their identity, provoking it, blurring some crucial evidence, or just playing with me – but they definitely embody a question mark that I identify with.

They bring to mind one of my favourite poems by Fernando Pessoa. You can read it here.

More on Waty in December then!

Filed under: photography

Clackastigmat 6.0

Oliver Möst is short sighted. I squint when I am designing because not seeing the detail of my layout actually helps. It’s good to question. To change. To see something from another point of view. To forget about detail. These remind me of the day my sister tried on a pair of glasses and realised things where sharp. She had always thought it was normal to not be able to read the blackboard when sitting at the back of the class (but sat there anyways).

If you miss the exhibition at Axel Obiger on Brunnenstr. which runs until the 24th of October then you can always buy the book.

Filed under: books, photography

Berlin! (where else?)

Extra fresh and crispy, coming soon.

Filed under: photography, Berlin events, events, music, photography, underground