When I Can Cast A Light Upon An ActorFriday, September 06, 2013
There is something about botanical photos which defies temporality. The flowers seem to emerge from the back-grounded blackness as one's memories do; completely whole, unaware of their complicit layers and the decay of what was forgotten. They arise devoid of context, their fullness and intact-ness boldly rivaling their lack of ground. They emerge like a dream scape - that you can never remember the full picture allows a space where piecemeal is the complete image - and these flowers are completely recalled. Within them we intuit an implicit context from which they have been severed. We know the narrative of the garden and the weeds and summer dying. But these float, as a fond instance, as an image to keep us company on dark nights, as a fractured thing to tell a loved one over morning coffee. I seek this disembodiment in my lighting. When I can cast a light upon an actor which floats him/her, which creates a memory simply in the viewing, which invites emergence from the void, then I will have created something of the confluence.