Background Noise

You walk out among the city’s walls, scratched with anger and boredom, in a language of violence and neglect.

Towards the river, through the city.

You walk out into a city of spectacle and unemployment in pursuit of obliteration and oblivion.

You look out at the city. The sheer weight, mass an physicality of it conspiring to bend the horizon, its surfaces of glass, steel and concrete articulated into fragmented shifting images.

You look out on this concrete condition. Photography is impossible here. That same impossibility driving you on.

The psychology of the experience is printed, edited, layered, ripped and burned.

You juxtapose yourself with the mass of everything.

You photograph all this as a protest against capitulation to political and social influence. Yet the spectacle only becomes more omnipotent, more insidious.

You photograph the spectacle in the final stages of a fatal strategy.

Photography as anxiety.

Photography as paranoia.

Photography as insomnia.

You walk out into this city and photograph its surfaces, its specifics. As you do so the specifics of yourself are revealed to you.

Snapshots from a life in transit.

A record to look back on, evidence of existence amidst processes of construction and destruction.

Processes that maintain themselves through expansion and colonisation of both land and the individual.

You walk out into this city of implications.

You walk out and photograph the incompleteness of things.

Photography as a confrontation with the ideas of progress. The photography of human neglect.

You walk out into this city to photograph life in its most raw, least mediated state.

Photography of surfaces – photography as a mirror. The city looking back at you.

The act of photography as performance. The creation of your own personal linguistics of image/word conflict.

You walk out into this city through time, memory and nostalgia. You drift.

Photography as a process of separating the basic elements of everything. An exploration of the aesthetics of degeneration – a process of erasure.

Photography targeted at the systems of control that turn an individual to vandalism and self-harm.

A record of the loss and marginalisation written on the city’s surfaces.

A symbiotic system of influences, punishment and reward.

Collections of photographs of the city creating another city, a web of connections.

Collections of specific images within a wider speculative process.

You walk out into streets scarred by resentment, life hammered into banality.

You walk out into this city, your ego projected onto an ever changing series of environments.

As you walk out, to the peripheries of this city, you think of the conflicting states of settlement and movement.

The inevitable aesthetics of poverty. Surfaces on which the human capacity for harm are expressed.

You walk out into this city and are reflected back on yourself.

You walk out into unfolding paths of psychology, that form fluid compositions of movement like music.

You walk out into a future of uncertainty, in which all history and culture are of no relevance, all references disappear.

You photograph with the hope of finding your place. But, as soon as you lift the camera, you are lost in a maze of connections and networks of options.

You walk out into this city of concrete, a functional landscape.

Time passing faster and faster. Your own fading image reflected back at you through the lens. The myths of your own progress disappearing.

You photograph the psychological effects of photography on the photographer and try to decipher the language that joins the inner and outer worlds.

A language that projects the psyche out onto the city’s surfaces. A language that creeps into everything but explains nothing, only displaces you further.

You walk out into your own displacement with a desire to settle, a search for home.

Photography as a dead end.

You walk out at 4am to the main road in a haze of drizzle and orange sodium light.

You look, you find, you loose all the answers to the questions posed by an unplanned exploratory life.

Within this city you establish your own language, your own system of movement and record taking.

The act of photography as an expression of no faith in contemporary institutions or any form of political movement to effect change.

You walk out and bed down further into your own image culture, an image culture you have created and can articulate.

You walk out to the edges of this city as if your life is threatened.

You walk out into poverty and years of anonymity.

You walk out into the invisible spectacle. The city a mirror, yourself a reflection, yourself disappearing.

In this city you disappear, and during the process, photography will eat itself.

You are spread and split apart by the city. And for what? A language yet to come?

You walk for miles deconstructing this overpopulated jigsaw puzzle, unpicking the intricacies and eccentricities.

You walk out into this city an anonymous anti-agent.

You walk out into the human condition.

You walk out into this city shifting from one state of being to another.

As you walk out into this city, the complexity of your own image language increasing, the simple brutality of the city erodes your faith.

You are losing your self to the shifting, systemic city.

You are like an amnesiac piecing everything together, over and over again.

You walk out into this city, your identity in constant flux, trying to assimilate image and word.

You walk out into the spectacle of yourself.

Photography as ontology.

Photography as a record of entropic processes.

Photography as phenomenological catalyst.

You walk out into an abstract language left behind by the passing of time.

You walk out into this city of disintegration hoping to photograph the transcendent, an attempt to arrest the process of falling apart.

You create a narrative interfered with as little as possible by the banality of explanation.

You walk to the centre of this city of human fragility.

At the centre of the city, as close to the real as possible, you strip away the artifice.

You are at the centre of the city. The city where fear eats the soul.