Recently, a friend of mine, Rebecca Duclos, curated a very cool show called Voir/ Noir (French for See/ Black, but so much better in French, no?) It was barely lit and the exhibit asked, in a sense, what effect does darkness/ absence have on perception. There were several really beautiful pieces; one was a tent made from blackout material that had been perforated with hundreds of tiny pin pricks, so that when you lay inside the tent (there was mattress – very thoughtful!) and looked toward the roof, it looked like a night sky. I want one!
Another piece in the exhibit was this photograph by Rebecca’s husband, David Ross; it’s part of a breathtaking series of photographs in storage spaces/ warehouses for which he left the camera set at a crazy-low exposure (sadly, I know nothing about photography, so that about as technical as I can be) and left it to record the image in whatever scarce, ambient light was there – in some cases just the tiny bit of light that seeped in under the door. In the case of the above photo, the spooky red light comes from the only source of light in the room – an EXIT sign – in a room storing old religious art. I think it’s stunning.
There was also an exhibit by Jennifer Angus…Look:
Now closer…
Closer…
Trust me -just a teensy bit closer...
Ah!
Yes, they are real insects, which I found rather disturbing, but on her website she writes that the work of insect-collectors the jungles from which these bug come actually helps keep the forests from being cut because they insects are a renewable resource and provide income for the local people. She also said she never uses endangered insects. Still disturbing, but very beautiful.
Also on her website are strange little literary gems about insects, such as this:
La Cucaracha Martina is a refined cockroach who doesn't like the hustle and bustle of urban life. Upon hearing a beautiful noise amid the city's din, she goes in search of the soft, gentle sound.
aah...