Ueber mich
maandag 28 september 2009
"Opening a Gate" My interpretation of the text
Opening a gate – John Berger
In the Text of John Berger, the author talks about the fotographer Pentti Sammallahti’s and his fotos.
In Bergers opinion Pentti’s fotos are aberrant (verwirrend) .
“In each of these pictures there is at least one dog” offering a key for opening a gate. Evrything pictured in the foto is outside and beyond.
He also talks about the special light which is determined by the daytime and the season of the year. In his opinion the light always figures hunt. “hunt for animals, forgotten names, a path leading home , a new day, the next lorry or spring. The light nothing longer then a glimpse is for him a symbolic key to opening a gate too.
For him the wide-section is also important. Berger says that a narrower focus could not show what the wide-section shows on the photo. Together with the special light “the half- light of glimpse” we can catch of another visible order. You can see things in the photo which would be invisible in another light or another section. This order coexists with other orders. Berger says that hunters and children are aware of it. They can read signs we do not see. For him dogs are the experts of these holes. For that reason it could be the dog which found the special places the photographer shows on the photos.
The result of this is that the photos show more pain and solitude.
In the Text of John Berger, the author talks about the fotographer Pentti Sammallahti’s and his fotos.
In Bergers opinion Pentti’s fotos are aberrant (verwirrend) .
“In each of these pictures there is at least one dog” offering a key for opening a gate. Evrything pictured in the foto is outside and beyond.
He also talks about the special light which is determined by the daytime and the season of the year. In his opinion the light always figures hunt. “hunt for animals, forgotten names, a path leading home , a new day, the next lorry or spring. The light nothing longer then a glimpse is for him a symbolic key to opening a gate too.
For him the wide-section is also important. Berger says that a narrower focus could not show what the wide-section shows on the photo. Together with the special light “the half- light of glimpse” we can catch of another visible order. You can see things in the photo which would be invisible in another light or another section. This order coexists with other orders. Berger says that hunters and children are aware of it. They can read signs we do not see. For him dogs are the experts of these holes. For that reason it could be the dog which found the special places the photographer shows on the photos.
The result of this is that the photos show more pain and solitude.
maandag 14 september 2009
donderdag 10 september 2009
zondag 6 september 2009
Absatz: Fotovorlage
A flower the color of blood. Wind howled through the trees all around me, whipping the branches in every direction. The sky overhead churned, thick with roiling clouds I brushed my windswept hair from my face. I only wanted to look at the flower.
Each rain-beaded petal was vividly red, slender, and bladelike, the way some tropical orchids are. Yet the flower was lush and full, too and it clung full to the branch like a rose. The flower was the most exotic, mesmerizing thing I’d ever seen. It had to be mine.
As I reached out for the flower, the hedge rustled. The wind, thought, but it wasn’t the wind. No, the hedge was growing – growing so quickly that I could see it happening. Vines and brambles pushed from the leaves in a tangled snarl. Before I could run, the hedge had almost surrounded me, wailing me in behind stricks and leaves and thorns.
Each rain-beaded petal was vividly red, slender, and bladelike, the way some tropical orchids are. Yet the flower was lush and full, too and it clung full to the branch like a rose. The flower was the most exotic, mesmerizing thing I’d ever seen. It had to be mine.
As I reached out for the flower, the hedge rustled. The wind, thought, but it wasn’t the wind. No, the hedge was growing – growing so quickly that I could see it happening. Vines and brambles pushed from the leaves in a tangled snarl. Before I could run, the hedge had almost surrounded me, wailing me in behind stricks and leaves and thorns.
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