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Reflections in an Alien's Eye
A Short Essay
Looking at the invisible city, the alien’s confusion if not fear is sometimes palpable but, all in all, he is the curious observer with just the right mix of emotional engagement and distanced neutrality. He comes from a different planet, has just arrived, with the parameters of a strange visual poetry preset in his mind, this is no tabula rasa. Shaped by a past unknown, by a privileged education (he has been raised in a palace, and he has been prepared well for this friendly excursion to a strange land), haunted by the echoes of a philosopher girlfriend’s meditations, he is humble enough to open himself up to what is there, simply, slowly, and with a sensitivity all his own.
He doesn’t take anything for granted. He sees what nobody sees but everybody walks by daily. He is on a mission never expressed all too clearly and that only he himself knows but his mission will bear fine fruit. His masters will be proud of him. He seems to be on his way to an initiation. His subtle descriptions indicate his willingness to engage closely with the strange world unfolding in place and time.
The photographer’s position is that of a mind and, above all, a pair of eyes that notice what nobody notices but everybody passes by on their daily errands around the multilayered city. Signs and symbols present themselves freely to the eye’s random interpretations but she needs to take her time to be able to benefit from the moment, to complete that task of fictionalised documentation. Past, present and future become one as the photographer moves about the streets, translating animate and inanimate objects into a new visual system. She is keen on the experience, on this adventure, just like the alien. Who in her right mind would otherwise do it?
The visual material in front of her, found on walls, behind a windowpane, on pavements, on strangers’ backs even, strikes the photographer as something precious that needs to be captured, in one unique and irreplaceable picture every time it happens, until that series of intimate portraits of the city in miniature has built up. An excursion into the beauty of seeing.
A beautiful task, exhausting and fulfilling.
(c) Sigrid Ehemann 2013
Looking at the invisible city, the alien’s confusion if not fear is sometimes palpable but, all in all, he is the curious observer with just the right mix of emotional engagement and distanced neutrality. He comes from a different planet, has just arrived, with the parameters of a strange visual poetry preset in his mind, this is no tabula rasa. Shaped by a past unknown, by a privileged education (he has been raised in a palace, and he has been prepared well for this friendly excursion to a strange land), haunted by the echoes of a philosopher girlfriend’s meditations, he is humble enough to open himself up to what is there, simply, slowly, and with a sensitivity all his own.
He doesn’t take anything for granted. He sees what nobody sees but everybody walks by daily. He is on a mission never expressed all too clearly and that only he himself knows but his mission will bear fine fruit. His masters will be proud of him. He seems to be on his way to an initiation. His subtle descriptions indicate his willingness to engage closely with the strange world unfolding in place and time.
The photographer’s position is that of a mind and, above all, a pair of eyes that notice what nobody notices but everybody passes by on their daily errands around the multilayered city. Signs and symbols present themselves freely to the eye’s random interpretations but she needs to take her time to be able to benefit from the moment, to complete that task of fictionalised documentation. Past, present and future become one as the photographer moves about the streets, translating animate and inanimate objects into a new visual system. She is keen on the experience, on this adventure, just like the alien. Who in her right mind would otherwise do it?
The visual material in front of her, found on walls, behind a windowpane, on pavements, on strangers’ backs even, strikes the photographer as something precious that needs to be captured, in one unique and irreplaceable picture every time it happens, until that series of intimate portraits of the city in miniature has built up. An excursion into the beauty of seeing.
A beautiful task, exhausting and fulfilling.
(c) Sigrid Ehemann 2013