Ah Ah Ah, I just found this old email(I'm in the middle of deleting) and I thought that the relation to my Come here Charlie post of a few days ago was too obvious to dismiss. I wonder if Richard Wentworth also goes to London Zoo. I wish I could e-mail him and ask him. Talking about the Lisson Gallery, which is the closest palace of 'high art' to my house, with the Serpentine Gallery and the Camden Art Centre, I do feel a bit sorry for them as just a couple of months ago, they started representing Ai WeiWei in the UK and they're having this show on at the moment and they don't even know if the guy is alive or dead and they must have twice as usual the amount of art students turning up at the gallery and looking enthralled. I personally can not believe that every thing we buy in this country is made in China, a country which abduct and en-prison artists and denies wrong doing, but still our leaders are telling us what it is that we should or should not do. Thank god for Lao Tse.
You haven't got anything to say but you just can't keep quiet, can you?
The other day, Vivian asked me if I preferred reading in french or in english and it did not take me long to reply I preferred to read in english as I like the flow, the rhythm, the shortness of a lot of words, the intrusion of latin and greek radicals among all the celtic and germanic words, the fact that a lot of english literature is still written in good english when the french books I have read recently, but for translations, all had this familiar tone, this dumbing down of language that is easy on the brain but not something I look for in literature. Honestly, I hardly ever read in french anymore, which is interesting because when I move to England in 1995, I could hardly speak english. So, I will read Das Kapital in english as I believe it must translate better from german than french would. I have not smoked for 3 weeks. I feel increasingly that taking photographs is possibly not the adequate language to express myself and that words would have me stop insinuating and just spit it out. The only problem is that looking in the dictionary every 30 words takes up much more time than pressing on a button. I'm gonna shoot those 40 water testing plastic tubes that I've got and see from there.
Oh by the way, now is the time to look at the program of the always brilliant Les Rencontres d"Arles. Going to the Ambika P3 exhibition space for the Photographer's Gallery annual show of the Deutsche Börse photography prize, awarded this year to the most deserving Jim Goldberg, reminded me of being in the old SNCF depot in Arles. I love photography exhibitions in industrial spaces, may be the acoustic of warehouses provides a good background to immerse oneself in an imaginary world. Or is it the power of old stones and crumbling plaster echoing the power of past event and heartfelt instants of the images?
Go to Arles before Frank Gehry turns Les Ateliers SNCF in to another luxury compound.
Sometimes I find most difficult to accept that the stories in my head do not materialize. Particularly when there are feelings involved. Taking photographs is a good way of dealing with the deception, as it allows me to create a story which unfold half-way in my head and half-way in the physical world. No one ever appears in my pictures. Unless I'm getting paid for it.