Aim for the skies and words about Trent Parke
Six months ago, I ordered Trent Parke's book "Monument," which finally arrived last week. It is a masterpiece, and its arrival was perfectly timed. The book contains not a single word, no copyright, no title, nothing. Not even a barcode. But that's not what struck me about it. Unlike any other photo I've seen, the images in this book challenge everything I thought I knew about photography. It's the inspiration I've been seeking.
His street photography, much of which uses a slow shutter speed and is all in black and white, is strikingly beautiful in its abstractness and sense of the surreal. His compositions are essentially the opposite of the images accompanying this essay, which are only here because they happen to be the images I made just prior to receiving the book in the mail. His photographs are complex; the subject is often small, and sometimes it's not even clear what the subject is. Light often plays the key role in the composition, rather than any physical object. Faces are rarely seen clearly. Shadows are prevalent, often human, but just as often of cars or other objects. Motion and its contrast with stillness is a primary feature. The images are dark but not quite brooding. They're foreboding and borderline apocalyptic but undeniably beautiful.
The many pages of street photography are interspersed with sections of macro photography, insects, lights, lightning, and other abstract elements that create a narrative arc that is difficult to verbalize or conceptualize but easy to sense as you turn the pages. The book is a sensual experience. The leather cover, the heavy matte paper, the smell of the ink, and of course, the exquisite photography come together in what I can only describe as perfection.
Expect more about this book and to see me unabashedly incorporate elements of his photography into mine. I can't wait.
