Notes From Nowhere

(If you don’t like trees, I have bad news. Earlier this year, Dorothea and I made a pact that I’d come up with a tree photograph for every entry she writes. Then came the Arbor exhibition, and now Dorothea sent in the sequel to her coverage of the Biennale in Venice. The upcoming series is from her summer in Paris and Budapest. The trees are from Central Park. Enjoy. JH)

We return to Paris, to the same flat as last year. There is a distinct pleasure of familiar surrounds: the court yard in click-clack yellow, blue and black; the elevator for a maximum of two persons, doors folding inwards (French engineering) which no amount of skill can close quietly or well. Inside, the window-shutters open with a squawk of metal. The birds of last year are roosting again with the neighbours. Only, I don’t remember the wire barbing upwards from the window-sill and downwards from the eaves. Inside, the place is as we left it. Only, there is one photograph more on the bookshelf—a family portrait—and a reading-light less. How to share the remaining one?

When Richard Burton was asked about the first thing he is looking for in a woman, his answer was (allegedly): “She must be at least 30 years old.” I trust that, until you figure out what to look for, choosing a man is complex too. But when it comes to traffic cones, things have always been easy for me: I’m looking for attitude, and good taste in choice of location. This indulgent ambassador of traffic cone values shows both while reclining on the shores of Hudson River.

I’m strongly biased toward people who do something new rather than lamenting the ineffectiveness of the old, toward using the web for what it does best, and toward my own work. Three good reasons to send you over to Chelsea’s Michael Mazzeo Arbor exhibition, here. I recommend the full screen view which, in its own way, can compete with some of the best brick and mortar gallery experiences. You’ll see an interesting variety of takes on the subject – arbor, both literally and figuratively – in particular, and on photography in general. At the same time, there is a strong, coherent voice, something that other attempts at showcasing and selling fine art editions on the web often lack.

So far, with very few exceptions, galleries make only reluctant use of the internet. Most gallery websites operate very much within the paradigm of, to borrow a phrase from exhibit-E, the maker of many of those sites, “complementing promotional gallery activities.” Chances are that this does not quite cut it anymore. Judging from the experience of how Arbor was put together, in a super-smart, smooth, and entirely virtual way, leading up to the end result that is online now (and an exhibition catalog available from Michael Mazzeo’s website), you can’t help but think that more people should move forward like this.