I'm thinking of buying another Hasselblad lens but as the lenses are expensive I will get it right so Hasselblad kindly let me try out a couple of lenses and here are some test images of landscape in poor light condition and some studio shots using HC150mm.
Control, it seems, may be the most fashioned accomplice to photography. Consider both the camera and the photograph; each is a product of, and for, control. Alongside this, as the work here may demonstrate, that which the camera points towards, the subject matter of the photograph itself, can also be a telling compatriot to mechanisms of control.
What part does the photograph play in bearing witness to the world? The photograph is a magnificent tool; it may re-present the world in a number of different guises. Opinion can be given, formed, suggested or ignored by the photograph, and that photograph can, in turn, have great control over our perceptions as a viewer. Our world is edited and placed before us as photographs. Our response to this world can only be a reflection of our own analysis, judgment and understanding.
The images that we see here as part of the Control project serve as mediators between our own experience of control, and anotherʼs understanding of sociological, political, architectural, technical, urban or rural control mechanisms.
Sian Gouldstone, 2011
Pablo Allison, Sian Gouldstone, Garry Cook, Ann-marie Conlon, Clare Daněk, Peter Mearns, Dave Rawlinson, Petra Stridfeldt,
Images and an essay written by Janet Walsh, my previous project 'Restless'
Many of us move house a number of times during our lives. We leave our childhood homes, rent a room in our impoverished twenties, then climb on the ladder with our first mortgage. We expect to move only a handful of times before we finally set down roots in one house, one home. Petra Stridfeldt’s relationship to place differs from this pattern. She has changed location 25 times, and ruefully admits this process continues still.
With this book of 25 images she shares the familiar sights we associate with moving house, such as the dust revealed when furniture is lifted away, or a painting propped against a wall waiting to be hung. Pervading these mundane moments, however, is a poignant sense of sadness. Petra’s photography expresses the emotional cost of compulsive movement.
This may be an autobiographical work, but it is telling that she is not physically present within the frame. There is evidence she was there a moment ago: a coffee cup stain, a drip from freshly applied paint, but caught up in her restlessness she has not stayed still long enough for the camera to capture her.
In conversation, Petra talks of looking for the perfect home by the sea, with mountains behind her, and the excitement of a city nearby; ‘where I can fit in like a glove’. This continual relocation then is self-induced. Interspersed amongst forensically detailed photographs are surreal images of an anonymous woman. She stands barefooted, rooted to the ground, almost settled, but her body is blurred in a frenzy of nervous energy. Reminiscent of the indistinct figures of Francesca Woodman’s self-portraiture this shaking woman is unfinished. Even as she makes herself a new home (represented by different wallpapers) she is tempted away by the exciting promise of new places, cultures, and people.
As a body of work it may seem paradoxical that a book entitled Restless contains photographs of a quiet monotone design. There is no colourful jumble of household goods in the back of a removal van. No one strains to lift a heavy box. It is not physical restlessness that is portrayed here, but instead the souls’ intangible yearning.
With characteristic elegance of expression Petra skillfully presents the tension between going and staying, an agonizing experience even we, less well travelled, can empathise with. Janet Walsh