Wonderland: essay by Machiel Botman

At Second Sight

When putting together Noorderlicht ’99, the discussion between Wim Melis, Ton Broekhuis, the organizers, and myself, guest curator, was mainly about the kind of photography that I hold dear: the ‘other’ photography, often small and personally tinted. Where looking at yourself prevails above looking at others. Where ‘real’ comes before ‘beautiful’ and where photographers are the authors of their own books. Photography that may be ‘dark’ at first sight, dark in meaning and dark in imagery: unclear, moved and sometimes gloomy. It is the kind of photography that seems a reaction to the romantic, warm, humane image of the fifties.

The ‘image’ no longer had to be beautiful; mood and feeling mattered more than the beauty of the subject. In an issue of Creative Camera about William Klein, Peter Turner mentions in particular Robert Frank, William Klein, Ed van der Elsken and Christer Strömholm. ‘Angry Young Men’, who rather sought after reality or the gloominess of reality than, as was usual at that time, the romantic or funny image. Personal worlds became the guiding principles, and self-initiated projects found shape especially in the form of ‘photo books’. We came across photographers who made their own books (that are extremely sought after at the moment), who wanted to go further than ‘catalogues’ or ‘portfolios’ between covers by creating photo books as an object, a work of art.

An important part of my contribution to Noorderlicht ’99 stems from my fascination for certain photo books. Books that contain a certain com-
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bination of this beautiful, sometimes gloomy, sometimes very personal and intimate work. Books that became an object themselves, because of the connection between the photos and between the photos and lay-outs. Above all, books that became an object because they were ‘alive’. In the Fifties Frank made his mythical Americans and Klein revolted with New York against almost everything that was known as photography. Both publications can be seen as a starting point in a series of personally tinted projects and photo books. Frank’s book was noticeable because of a combination of involvement and cynicism and his so poignant photography; Klein’s because of the combination of filmic photography and ditto layout. Both books left nothing of the usual, optimistic image of the land and the city and we saw, above all, the photographer and his way of looking. Strömholm made Poste Restante, Dave Heath A Dialogue with Solitude, books that reflect a raw reality and are of almost meditative quality. On the cover of Strömholm book there is a dead and half–