Porcelain Skin

Book Passages Series #03: Please leave feedback, any and all is appreciated. Please vote on your favorite of the three images, the poll is found in the top right corner of the blog.

Excerpt from Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Toilets in modern water closets rise up from the floor like white water lilies. The architect does all he can to make the body forget how paltry it is, and to make man ignore what happens to his intestinal wastes after the water from the tank flushes them down the drain. Even though the sewer pipelines reach far into our houses with their tentacles, they are carefully hidden from view, and we are happily ignorant of the invisible Venice of shit underlying our bathrooms, bedrooms, dance halls, and parliaments. submitted by Frieda Babbley

If you are new to this blog and are interested in the origins of this Book Passages series please visit my first post "What have you read lately?"

If you are interested in contributing to this visual journey please submit a book passage with title and author in the comment section or email me. Thanks!

Is there anybody out There?

To try and move some conversation on these posts I will start by offering my intent on this image. Especially since it didn't reproduced as well with the image size on the blog.

To me the whole Beaufort Scale is a scientific, yet to some extent arbitrary one, based on a scientist or team of scientists decision to determine what constitutes how many knots/MPH wind has to be to move up to the next descriptive term for the winds velocity. I struggled as a non-scientist how silly this scale seemed to me so in my visual interpretation of this event I tried to encompass the idea of wind/conflict/movement into one visual dialog. So onto the image.

My intent was to create a visual that was the opposite of what people would have expected the image to be but hold onto those general components that people think of when confronted with the idea of wind. The image shows an individual in a very calm and still state. Relaxing with a beer and chips while watching TV (the weather channel). The TV screen represents the reality of what is occurring outside. The man's boots are untied eluding to the fact that he may have just come in from the chaos of the storm. The fan re-enforces the idea of wind/movement. The chips are also showing some slight movement compared to the overall calm of the scene. The TV and the fact that he is watching the Weather Channel is a joke since he is watching a non-cable or satellite TV based on the crude rabbit ears on top of his set? Then, to throw it further into the obscure, the tattoo on the guys arm is the ancient alchemist symbol of phosphorus which because of it's ability to glow/create light had many to believe it was connected to spirits? This takes the idea of movement/wind into the realm of the supernatural. Exhausting I know. Most of my images just hit you on the head like a brick. This one is unusual in that it has so many elements.

The Weather Channel

So here is image number two in the early visual journey of my Book Passages series. For those of you new to this site please refer to the blog entry What Have You Read Lately (Feb 3) for more information on this concept.

The concept for this image came from a contribution from a co-worker. Tea writes,

Hi Bill,

I don't know if this counts or not, but I'm reading "Defining the Wind" by Scott Huler - It's about the Beaufort Scale, so my descriptive passage is the Beaufort Scale itself.

I didn't research the book to find out how it was written or to find out in what context Scott Huler referenced the Beaufort Scale. Since I didn't even know what the Beaufort Scale was I did have to Google it to find out. This is my interpretation of the scale and wind in particular. I'm happy with how it turned out. I think that the interpretation keeps with my style of photography and with my sense of humor. I would love to hear what you have to say. Please leave your comments they make all the difference getting a feel for how the audience is responding to the visuals.

The next passage that I will interpret is from Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being submitted by Frieda Babbley.

Toilets in modern water closets rise up from the floor like white water lilies. The architect does all he can to make the body forget how paltry it is, and to make man ignore what happens to his intestinal wastes after the water from the tank flushes them down the drain. Even though the sewer pipelines reach far into our houses with their tentacles, they are carefully hidden from view, and we are happily ignorant of the invisible Venice of shit underlying our bathrooms, bedrooms, dance halls, and parliaments.

I will be picking up my free toilet that I found on Craigslist on Friday. Then may the shit, I mean creativity flow.

Please join in the discussion!

Please join the beginnings of an interesting dialog started by my blog friend and supporter Frieda Babbley at her blog post. She expresses her opinions on my first images for this Book Passages series. Frieda also has asked me a few questions which I answer on her blog. Thanks for your interest and I hope that you contribute and follow this exciting visual journey. Thanks!

Travels in the Scriptorium by Paul Auster

I would like to thank everyone who has contributed to this visual journey. I hope I will continue to receive submissions from you as the journey continues. Here are the images from Travels in the Scriptorium. Please take the time to vote on your favorite image and offer constructive criticism on any of the images. My professors used to rip my prints in half if they didn't like them so I can take it, you won't hurt my feelings.

The old man sits on the edge of the narrow bed, palms spread out on his knees, head down, staring at the floor. He has no idea that a camera is planted in the ceiling directly above him. The shutter clicks silently once every second, producing eighty-six thousand four hundred still photos with each revolution of the earth. Even if he knew he was being watched, it wouldn't make any difference. His mind is elsewhere, stranded among the figments in his head as he searches for an answer to the question that haunts him.

Who is he? What is he doing here? When did he arrive and how long will he remain? With any luck, time will tell us all. For the moment, our only task is to study the pictures as attentively as we can and refrain from drawing any premature conclusions.

There are a number of objects in the room, and on each one a strip of white tape has been affixed to the surface, bearing a single word written out in block letters. On the lamp, the word is LAMP. Even on the wall, which is not strictly speaking an object, there is a strip of tape that reads WALL. The old man looks up for a moment, sees the wall, sees the strip of tape attached to the wall, and pronounces the word wall in a soft voice. What cannot be known at this point is whether he is reading the word on the strip of tape or simply referring to the wall itself. It could be that he has forgotten how to read but still recognizes things for what they are and can call them by their names, or, conversely, that he has lost the ability to recognize things for what they are but still knows how to read.

I will try and do images in the order that the submissions came in. Next up is a contribution from Tea. She wrote "I'm reading Defining the Wind by Scott Huler - it's about the Beaufort Scale, so my descriptive passage is the Beaufort Scale itself: http://www.merriam-webster.com/table/dict/beaufort.htm. I need a model for this idea so I will hopefully find one and be able to still shoot and post by next week. I have a call into Bob Dylan's agent, hopefully he will call back soon?

On a sad note...

I signed up on Facebook this weekend and enjoyed connecting with some people I had not been in touch with for many years. It is a great forum for connecting with old friends. Connecting with one of those old friends from college I began to ask if he'd heard from a fellow friend and photographer. I lost touch with this person about five years ago and find out this weekend that the demons that had been chasing him caught up to him last year. This image is one that we collaborated on for a school assignment over 20 years ago. Cheers to one of the most talented photographers that I had the pleasure to know and work with. RIP.

What Have You Read Lately?

I am interested in starting a new fine art photography series in which I interpret a great paragraph from a book. One that is descriptive, mysterious, or ambiguous. I am hoping that I will get enough contributions from both my friends and curious strangers that I can create this fascinating visual journey. I will share my new images here on the blog as they are created. If time permits I would like to share one new image per week. If you contribute a paragraph please include the book title and the author. I look forward to your contributions. I will launch the series with this book excerpt.

Travels in the Scriptorium by Paul Auster

The old man sits on the edge of the narrow bed, palms spread out on his knees, head down, staring at the floor. He has no idea that a camera is planted in the ceiling directly above him. The shutter clicks silently once every second, producing eighty-six thousand four hundred still photos with each revolution of the earth. Even if he knew he was being watched, it wouldn't make any difference. His mind is elsewhere, stranded among the figments in his head as he searches for an answer to the question that haunts him.

Who is he? What is he doing here? When did he arrive and how long will he remain? With any luck, time will tell us all. For the moment, our only task is to study the pictures as attentively as we can and refrain from drawing any premature conclusions.

There are a number of objects in the room, and on each one a strip of white tape has been affixed to the surface, bearing a single word written out in block letters. On the lamp, the word is LAMP. Even on the wall, which is not strictly speaking an object, there is a strip of tape that reads WALL. The old man looks up for a moment, sees the wall, sees the strip of tape attached to the wall, and pronounces the word wall in a soft voice. What cannot be known at this point is whether he is reading the word on the strip of tape or simply referring to the wall itself. It could be that he has forgotten how to read but still recognizes things for what they are and can call them by their names, or, conversely, that he has lost the ability to recognize things for what they are but still knows how to read.

OK, it's your turn. Please publish your book excerpt in the comment section or email it to me at
wmzuback@backtothezu.com

I will post an image based on this passage sometime next week.