Source Magazine: Thinking Through Photography - Blog Posts - Innocent Landscapes Revisited - Well That Passed the Time - Posted by David Farrell: Fri 18 Jun 2010.

INNOCENT LANDSCAPES REVISITED: 18 / JUN / 2010
WELL THAT PASSED THE TIME
Posted by David Farrell

Dublin, 18th May, 2010

A walk into town, the first one in a long time. I am without camera so as a small comfort I start to list in my head a small litany of "past the..." noting verbally though internally, so as not to appear like the village madman, all the things I observe that I might put a frame around if I was armed. It’s an interesting game and I am doing fine without my shield, most of the things are possibly to be returned to or probably not worth embalming in time - no real masterpieces then. It’s a grey softish day, the first mild day of our summer, almost warm I’d say but a moist air is the payback for this small relief from the recent sharp air. I start to reflect on this list that is now getting longer and longer and the sound in my head appeals to me - it’s worth pursuing, maybe I can begin something new and sure what else am I doing. Nothing but nothing at all at all. And then it happens, I walk around a corner and a young painter has set up an easel and is painting a street scene but in a geometric quasi abstract and with quite a nice delicate bright palette of colour and he is standing close to this large green 6x7 shape that has been painted on a shop wall and inside the shop which sells suites and ties the stuff that is alien to me there is another palette of colour like a watercolour paint-box. Inside - Outside, Outside - Inside. And I stop and look and say Bugger! - I need to make this photograph - I look around seeking friend, foe, tourist or alien - anyone with a camera will do - I will borrow it momentarily to soothe my desire, simply click and then I can go on my way. No luck. I start calculating how long will it take me to walk back to the Shoebox - will he still be here? Maybe it will rain and he will take a break, maybe he wont come back if it does. What if it brightens up? He will be on the shadow side then, not ideal, hmmmmm decisions, decisions. I walk home. I walk back again into town, this time with camera and a small digital sound recorder with a low battery level, damned batteries they empty quicker than a recessionary bank account - I start my litany again, this time out loud but without fear, for am I not like all the other mad people, who now walk around cities apparently talking, laughing and crying to themselves. I am not alone. And the possible project grows in my head - this is where the true madness lies - a series of walks accompanied by a litany of things seen and the occasional photograph made. It could be called Some Notes on Street Photography. This is getting interesting. And then I turn the same corner again and... good lad, he is still there - ah the slow time of painting, a wonderful thing, a marvelous thing. None of this click and be done with. So many possibilities pass through the frame as I observe and steal from the ebb and flow. I click and then click a bit more. I am not so sure now, now that the frame is tight around and there is all that movement and distraction inside and outside that I had filtered away when I was simply looking and making photographs in my head. Now it’s for real. Time will tell ah the quick long time of photography, a wonderful thing, a marvelous thing. I say a few words of encouragement to him as I pass by and wander back home and on the walk home I start to ponder a way of working with voiceover and photographs and by the time I have arrived back to base it has become an animation project – animated litany of words with simultaneous voiceover and intermittent photographs. Well not a bad canter for a simple walk into town although the H3D isn't exactly a street camera and perhaps it would be interesting to mix the formats from compact to medium format to give the various future walks a feeling of spontaneity and variation. For now though this will have to do and yet I have a small variation in mind already. Maybe it's something for the next posting.

Walk One, 18th May 2010, Dublin:

Past the white cat with the superior stare.
Past the bottle containing some water.
Past the elegant statue.
Past the the strange purple liquid in the laneway.
Past the gaping mouth that opens to the basement.
Past the cheery beggar who wishes me a good day.
Past the Botticelli girl from the gym carrying a bottle of water.
Past the poster for Aung San Suu Kyi.
Past the strange tropical plants in the park.
Past the sweating man in the trench coat.
Past the homeless man carrying a copy of the Mirror.
Past the stressed woman with the red leather jacket shouting into her phone ‘it doesn't matter I’ll pay for it now!’
Past the painting by that famous painter.
Past the woman reading ‘The Secret Life of Bees’.
Past the man whistling Barber’s ‘Adagio for Strings’.
Past the half eaten lollipop.
Click...
Past the woman in the Range Rover who looks at me and I look back.
Past the tourist couple studying the map.
Past the tramp with the knarled stick who finds a tweed flat cap perched on a wall and removing his own tries the other, it’s a snug fit so it stays and the original goes into his pocket for another day, he shuffles on and so do I.
Past the advertisement that says ‘cheat on meat’.
Past the frayed blue rope wound around the black railings.
Past the man with the blue-grey jumper carrying three boxes.
Past the taxi-driver named Mick or is it John who offers to drive me around for free.
Past the three numbered bins that read six, six, six.
Past the bowl of extremely small fruit in the reception of the occupied building.
Past the young man with the discreet earphones and the small white logo on his raincoat.
Past the man with the gold envelope and the pink and white striped shirt.
Past the sign that says ‘just eat’.
Past the two plainclothes policemen sitting in the plainclothes van.
Past the naked light boxes in the window of the empty building.
Click...
Past the young woman with the purple coat, the purple scarf, and the pink shoes.
Past the sign that says ‘queue here for autographs’.
Past the portrait studio with the photograph of the fresh baby suspended in two upraised arms.
Past the bald man who looks at me and I look back.
Past the empty office building.
Past the sign that says ‘look left’.
Past the man on the phone who says ‘John what’s your email’.
Past the Bureau of Fraud Investigation. (I wonder will they come after me?)
Past the woman photographing the window.
Click - but she catches me and so we talk for a while about the melancholy aloofness of mannequins.
Click...
Past the crumpled brown bag lying dead in the dark laneway.
Past the sign that states ‘neat dress essential’.
Past the two women in synchronized step.
Click...
Past the landscape paintings in the window.
Past the sign that says that ‘Every Card is a Work of Art - Made in Ireland’
Past the wall where a sign was, and the new one will be.
Click...
Past the place with the ‘signature sandwiches’.
Past the sad woman with the happy dog.
Past the broken window.
Past the woman in the pinstripe raincoat.
Past the beautiful young woman with luscious lips who looks at me and suddenly yawns.
Past the small lifting cage at the back of Captain Americas.
Click...
Past the two pigeons exiting the fire door.
Click...
Past the mysterious woman hidden by the blue and pink umbrella I should have clicked.
Past the reversing truck going 'beep beep beep'.
Past the fire alarm in the empty shop.
Click...
Past the business man in the back laneway pleading with his lover ‘no no, that’s impossible’.
Past the painter working on a street scene.
Click...

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INNOCENT LANDSCAPES REVISITED: 18 / JUN / 2010WELL THAT PASSED THE TIMEPosted by David Farrell

INNOCENT LANDSCAPES REVISITED: 18 / JUN / 2010
WELL THAT PASSED THE TIME
Posted by David Farrell