As many photographers mourn the demise of film others are just as avidly turning to their iphones as their chosen apparatus.
In its third biennial presentation, the parameters of the Anne Landa Award have shifted radically.
I want to tell a story about Jony, who is the beloved of Omar, the young man nestling against Jony’s shoulder.
I think the sense of ‘the past as a foreign country’ really originates in Bruegel’s paintings, at least for us today.
Rozalind Drummond’s photographs step outside this teleological mania. They stop the march towards some irrefutable glorious future to look, rather, at what is. And sometimes it’s a grubby corner.
The Body Electric exhibition extends the physical, ‘domestic’, everyday image of ourselves, and disappears it by removing traces of the body. The residue is the flickering light.
Taking as their subject the vast military bases supporting conflicts from Iraq to Afghanistan, the photographs read like location shots for a nascent feature film.
Playing with the tension of the depth/surface of the self/image, Laing has cast her subjects into a series showing twelve shades of grief reminiscent of the twelve shades of blonde any one of us can become with the aid of a bottle.