[-empyre-] Intro from The Red Hookian, that is Mustafa Ziyalan
ziyalan at mindspring.com
Wed Nov 2 01:53:22 AEDT 2016
I was shot at. I was in bomb explosions. That was in Turkey.
I watched "Blood of the Beasts" by Georges Franju, “Carnival of
by Herk Harvey and "Der Todesking" by Jörg Buttgereit. In Austria
Hermann Nitsch’s works in blood. In Germany I saw the works of
In United States I saw photography of Francesca Woodman. I thought it
was about (self)erasure, among other things. I watched "Decasia" by
Morrison. I worked with HIV+ individuals. What ultimately
of transience, disintegration, decay and mortality was 9/11.
I experienced the Salton Sea, a phenomenon I had seen in Bill Viola's
videos before. I took photographs. Then there was
Hurricane Sandy. I was
in Red Hook then. Cars were moving in the storm
surge. I started taking
photographs again, this time with my Android
phone, and posting them. I
wandered through places, abandoned or still
inhabited, above or below
ground. I wandered through subway stations. I
took in the palimpsest of
grime, stains, paint and posters.
More recently I saw the works by D*Face.
I have been using software decidedly less evolved than Photoshop:
and GraphicConverter. I have been mainly going with what the image
yields. I have been trying and tinkering, leaving quite a bit to chance.
My images are attempts to reconstitute and move beyond things, even if
they stumble and fail. I think it is important that I use a phone to
take photographs. That is the closest to capturing a glimpse while
moving past whatever I choose to photograph. It is unobtrusive and
discreet. This is important when you are taking a photograph of a detail
in an elevator or hallway in the projects, in a subway station or in a
What the digital camera of the phone is able to capture from what you
see is where you start. You may crop the image, change its brightness
and/or contrast. Details and colors change accordingly. Where do I stop?
When I see something as far removed from the original as possible,
still, without becoming nondescript again. There seems to be a spot
between the familiar and over-processed, where I pause, I think.
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