Wasn’t really sure this was going to happen, but there is going to be a BOP Photo Analogies #5. We are currently in the process of crowdfunding (oh, how very “now” of us!) at Ulule:
Several of the funding levels will yield a print of one of my photographs. The selection was randomly chosen – if there is another shot that would get you to fund the project, let me know and we’ll work something out!
It has been noted that Edward Hopper is the artist of the pandemic. This evening his “Office in a Small Town” floated past in the unending stream of images that make up the current ‘net experience.
It really does have a great sense of isolation / loneliness. For me there was some other flicker of recognition. A photograph that is oddly similar.
This was taken at the Tokyo Metropolitan Government (都庁) building West Shinjuku in 2009. At that particular time the only Edward Hopper work that i would have known was “Nighthawk”.
Somehow many of the elements of “Office in a Small Town” have ended up repeated here. There must be something about the composition / proportions makes it “work”. However, it is strange for them to be so similar and yet so far apart in time, medium and feeling.
The photograph was originally “Untitled”, but now deserves a title… “Shiver and Shake”.
That is my (maternal) grandfather and his telescope. No idea why the picture was in the newspaper. If there was any associated text it appears that i forgot to scan it. My recollection is that he built it, but the details are somewhat lost to me. It could be that my uncle still has it… trying to find out.
At the end of the garden there was a concrete post with a steel pin mount. The telescope itself was roughly 2m in length, maybe 20cm in diameter, painted silver, and looked homemade. No entirely sure on that last point… is a actually possible to build a functioning large mirror telescope? Perhaps it was a kit?
My memories of that time are most olfactory – everything smelt of coal, coal itself, coal dust, coal smoke, but i’m sure that at some point i was allowed to look through the telescope. It definitely wasn’t something to play with, and getting to look at the stars felt like a privilege… even it was kind of disappointing!
Recently the sky in Hamburg has felt clearer, with more stars visible… which has got me thinking about buying a telescope and at least try to get a look at the planets. Saturn’s rings, Mars’ red spot… just the obvious stuff.
After looking at the Pets and Animals post, it occurred to me that my father had probably told me something about that particular time.
While working in the garden my father had scratched his arm, perhaps removing brambles, and i’d asked him some scars running across his upper arms. He told me that as a a kid he’d ridden into a wire that had been strung across a road. If you look back at those donkey pictures you’ll see the, presumably resultant, bandages.
Memory is a very strange thing. The set of recollection i have from that time is really limited: water the garden with the bath water during a summer drought (1976?); trying to dig up the body of the family cat which my father had run over in the drive and buried in the garden; finishing a box of tissues blowing my nose when it wouldn’t stop running; being chased by a horse in a field at the end of the garden; and now this tale of wire across the road.
Don’t know anything about guns, and will therefore assume that this is an Enfield Rifle. How could i possibly be wrong!
The above is probably my favourite photograph from this time – even though it’s poorly executed, the expression is really good. With slightly better framing it could have been wonderful.
Another mystery solved – a sleep deprived venerable gude has come through and identified the “Wolseley” as being a Triumph Renown. Most specifically, judging by the round edges on bonnet, it’s probably a Triumph 1800 Town & Country Saloon 1946 – 49.
There aren’t really any generally interesting pictures left. It’s mostly people that i can’t identify, and a few more family portrait things.
From what i know, this should be somewhere in North Yorkshire, probably Richmond. Unfortunately it doesn’t seems to include any of the elements of skyline…
a little less shabby looking than england in the late 1940s / early 1950s.
The only reference i have to this school is a story my father told of growing a silver acetylide crystal (shock sensitive high explosive…) with a friend. They detonated it in a dustbin at the bottom of a stairwell, and the friend lost a finger in the process. Maybe they grew the crystal in a dustbin and detonated in the stairwell… to be honest that wasn’t the detail of the incident that stuck with me!