I have never kept a diary and still don’t like the idea of it. As a child or teenager this resistance was somewhat instinctive. When young, I have always seen writing as something finite, an end, much more than a starting point. Even more so, when writing about personal stuff: feelings, anger, sadness, unanswered love and affection et cetera.
Thinking back, I did not need to write. My consciousness, my pleasure and pain were best expressed with visuals and sound: art and music were everything to me. Both were my way of expression; both left an enormous and still felt impression on me. Both were and still are vital to me. I used to call these driving forces “Visual Nutrition”, an expression or mantra I used as a name for the first zine I produced and edited in the early noughties. It was somehow the “commercial” result of the art work I am showing below.
What is beauty?
How could I forget the way I got into Theodore W. Adorno, especially his book on aesthetics. It was love that got me to dive my nose into his thinking. The hot love affair with the women has long gone cold, the adoration for the man has grown: “What the Platonic theory of beauty essentially states is that the power of beauty comes from the fact that we recognize the Form—or whatever it is—in the objects or people we have reason to call beautiful. It is this splendid motif of pain and longing, which seizes people in the face of beauty, that was formulated for the first time and in the most outstanding fashion in this dialogue.” (He talks about Plato’s Phaedrus).
I’ve chosen pictures that were never art photos. They were not styled, snapshots. it was these banal photos, I was more interested in; to be not artificial.
I was longing for beauty, never sure to recognize it in the right moment. So I started to record sounds and taking pictures everywhere. These witnesses of a time, all profoundly linked to stories, places and feelings became somehow my unwanted diary. Working with these snapshots has become my way of dealing with the past, to find closure: not as an end, but as a true beginning. As with a diary, arranging images only by their form, shape or colour, never by their content, has become my way of archiving my history and past, without telling or writing it down. A personal mystery.
My art work
“untitled (snapshot series)”, 2004
70 photographic diptychs (inkjet printed paper on wood boards leaning on wall with 2 nails), 21 x 18 cm each, unique