It has been said that science demystifies the world. It is closer to the truth to say that science, when at its best, opens the world for us, bringing daily realities under a kind of magic spell and providing the means to see the limits of what we think we know, and the scope of what we do not at all understand.1
1Kurt Nassau, editor, referenced to C. Emmeche, “The Garden in the Machine”, in Color for Science, Art and Technology, (Amsterdam: Elsevier Science, 1998), v.
Without a dedicated studio means using spaces and opportunities to make work outside and inside locations. The climb to the top is much harder now and kind of worrying. Considering how to make site specific/on site photographic works without adding chemicals and rubbish to the space finds me collecting materials from below the site area; seaweed from the beach, preparing an alternative developing medium and preparing a salt fixing solution with a mixture of salts from the cupboard. Table sea salt and Himalayan pink salt was what I had in the cupboard. Using my pinhole camera the initial test images were developed on site to see exposure and measure the potential of the medium for working en plain air photography. It all worked in strange previously unknown ways. Conceptually using the medium in this way does engage with notions of impermanence, breaking landscape, breaking photography and breaking memory. Images were taken in the coloured reality of our world, collected on black and white photographic paper then developed from natural materials forming new colours. Shooting directly into the sun is not the best for my eyes I know. Closing my eyes as the exposure ended permitted me to view the afterimage from the light on my retina inside my own visual system and the opportunity for me to take notes and draw a little sketch. The afterimage ranged from the softer to the most vivid colours not usually seen in nature with such intensity, not by me anyway. Finding some of those stronger colours occurring on my developed images was very surprising. Photography and her science gets “Curiouser and Curioser!” In this research my eyes as shutter became imprinted with the colour of light onto my retina as afterimage, ie after-photography. While sitting in the studio I closed my eyes for a second time, to identify the end of the afterimage or find a secondary reducing afterimage and recorded most of those. The initial plan is to make little paintings of this new light using oil paint as that is what is in the art cupboards and most likely be able to replicate the light intensity and depth of the colours I experienced and within my colour mixing skills. I have not yet worked out all the chemical properties nor why these were the final colours generated. Proportions, heat, quality of materials all impact results of course. I will be testing eucalyptus leaves and other plants native to the Blue Mountains in preparation for my residency next month. Good to meet my fellow creatives who were a mix of local and regional practitioners. Did not know how many published and soon to be published authors we had living in this city. Thanks to Kat for her support, brilliant smile and for bringing us altogether. Thank you for sharing your time and creative stories. Although we just met as strangers, I found joy, sorrow and pain here with generous open exchanges, conversations, acceptance and inclusivity. May those red dancing shoes be worn in joyous dance every day.
We are all strangers until we are not.
NB: The last day images were developed in Caffenol solution and fixed with regular fixer off- site.
FURTHER NOTES ON AFTERIMAGE AFTER-PHOTOGRAPHY
After making a photographic image and moving physically to another space, the memory of the photographic experience remains indelibly printed on the retina, moving from darkness to light forming an afterimage of what remains. Methodologies include acceptance of a chance event occurring ‘in camera’, dark-room manipulation, the accidental ‘glitch’ appearing on the surface and deliberate disruptive mark-making undertaken through developing and printing stages. Other investigations have seen me return to printmaking incorporating the cliché verre printing process into my practice; drawing and painting through photography. These methodologies present a unique-state photographic image made by light and simultaneously at the perils of being destroyed by light.
With contemporary insight gained by my light experiences at Nobbys Whibayganba my ideas on the Afterimage have definitely re formed. Afterimage now becomes After-photography. Now I spend so much more time directly staring into the sun often at its strongest point while taking sun up sun down images. While contra-indicated for the health of my own eyes, the sun (and the moon light to a degree), have pulled me into its realm, hypnotizing me to stay transfixed long enough to experience the light then turn away to allow the after-image to flood my vision, trying my best to identify colours, tones and shapes as my eyes re-adjust to ordinary light.
WRITING LIGHT AT NOBBYS WHIBAYGANBA SITE RESIDENCY 2021
My art making does not sit at a distance from me, way above my head, far off to the right. It exists as I exist. I cannot remove the history. I cannot disconnect from the layers holding this building up. I cannot ignore those who walked this same land before me, prehistoric beasts, animals, indigenous cultivators, settlers, convicts and those who imprison them, the layered colonisation of this city. I cannot ignore the maritime history, the ocean, the harbour and industry. There is blood red inside these walls and I see it if I look hard. Everything penetrates this time. Funnily enough I am not overwhelmed as time moves on and I inhabit the space each day, inside and outside space, physical bodily space and emotionally charged inner creativity. I simultaneously feel joy and wonder as I load my cameras with film and paper, place paper out into the light for an impression of time. The wind only moves one small camera left onsite as I check and renew each week up until week six. One hour of light, one day of light, one week of light, one month almost of light, all fragments recording my presence here. My own history is unwritten by me, my longing for acceptance, recognition and respect as an artist in this city and this country particularly still hangs over me like a weighted cloak. I think of that here as well. Will I make good work? Will anyone know that I was here? I find it hard to dislodge fear entirely this past six weeks, these six years, these sixty years. My pulse quickens when I see my light is on again. It’s flashing and soft and a little encrusted with sea salt today. My interest in art practice is heightened. I am a realist and there is always a more difficult response though worth examining some days for what it is. I cannot totally dismiss those who continue to turn off my lights, or who leave me isolated standing alone in a newer light with no intention to harm but no intention of inclusion. I know I should let them go; let the anxiety that is released go and I inwardly know I can stand on my own here. So I do stand and embrace that position at the end of the six weeks anyway; and I now cast them out; those doubts and fears and those controlling the lights. My cloak is now thrown over their eyes so they cannot see me rise. Rise to this site. Rise to this art. The only thing I can show you is the light I have collected here by the sea and in the studio research following.