X100F

Constant Renewal

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Photography & Text by Derek Clark

Constant

ADJECTIVE

Occurring over a period of time.

Remaining the same over a period of time.

(of a person) Unchangingly faithful and dependable.

NOUN

A situation that does not change.

Glasgow, like most cities, is changing rapidly. But you may have noticed that the older something gets, the better the chance of survival. The Provan's Lordship is the oldest house in Glasgow. It's a stones-throw away from Glasgow Cathedral and was built by Bishop Andrew Muirhead for the chaplain of nearby St Nicholas Hospital in 1471. I was lucky to have the place to myself when I visited recently and I have to say that it was more than a little eerie. You can practically feel the history in each room as you make your way through the house.

Nearby graves at Glasgow Cathedral have alphabet gardens growing in the engravings of the tombstones. Nature takes back everything eventually and here the soil has blown into the channels, followed be seed. constant growth; Constant renewal. Nothing ever stands completely still.

A short walk towards the city centre reveals the latest area for architectural renewal. Glasgow College and the surrounding area has seen a massive change in the past few years with building after building being erected at great speed (at least for someone who lives outside the city). But if I had to put my money on which of these buildings would still be standing in 100 years, The old Provan's Lordship would win hands down.

An old London bus passes by the modern architecture, the rattle of the Diesel engine cutting through the quiet like a chainsaw. It heads toward the Provan's Lordship. A link between new and old.

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Cruise Control

BY BERT STEPHANI

My headlights always seem to be switched on this time of year. Every morning my car greets me with the ping that warns me for slippery roads despite the new winter tires. I can see a roller coaster year in my rear view mirror and there is that nagging realization that only a fundamental change of course can avoid the view of yet another roller coaster year ahead.

For now I'm going to push the cruise control button, lean back and find joy in the few rays of sunlight that make it over the horizon and through the clouds. I have to have faith that at some point I'll be ready to exit the traffic flow and enjoy the change of speed, the sound of tires on rough tarmac and an unknown but clear view through the windshield. 

August 5th, 2018 at 10:01am (Maarslet, Denmark)

By Jonas Rask

The vacation is over. Or at least our joint vacation as a complete family. We had 2 weeks together, which seems like a good amount of time going in, but feels like a brief second going out. We had an amazing holiday. We spent most of our time in Croatia, but on our way home we made a brief stop in Prague. It was a very weird feeling, wandering through Prague in all of its mighty beauty, and still feel like it wasn't even close to the sheer magnificence of the Croatian cities of Biograd, Sibenik, Zadar and Split. 

The following pictures have an obvious visual commonality, but more importantly they have contextual commonality in that they were taken in the 7 different cities that we visited the last 14 days. 

 

July 26 2018 at 2:08PM (Biograd, Croatia)

By Jonas Rask

Finally vacation time. Finally time for family. 
We drove through Europe. 1900km+, it took us a couple of days to get here, improvized hotel stay et all. But now we are. Here.
In Croatia. This is a first for our family, but it probably be the last. This place is amazing. 

We do what we usually do. Live simple, enjoy it all. I am so ever grateful.  

On Being

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Words and Photography by Jonas Rask

This essay isn’t easy for me. Loss and sorrow never is. 

I deal with life and death in the healthcare system every day, but that’s in a professional setting. That’s when I’m prepared and at guard. I put on the semi-permeable emotional shield, that protects my inner fragility. These things hurt. Every goddamn time. Even for a doctor like myself, who is confronted with it on a daily basis, they hurt like hell. Some more than others, but they do hurt! 

Steve Shipman's passing after a longtime fight with cancer is obviously something that touches us here at KAGE. I didn’t know Steve personally. I loved his photography, I read his blog, but I never reached out on a personal level. But in the context of things, that doesn’t really matter, 'cause the loss is a great one. He was an inspirator par excellence, and he touched many people through his art, including myself. 

We talked about the theme of this issue and the title that came up was “On Being Here - For Steve” - I gave some good thought into what I wanted to do photographically for this issue, and I decided on a portrait series shot in 6x6 on analogue medium format just like Steve did with his portraiture. Unfortunately the 7 portraits I had done got lost during a bad development session yesterday. So the portraits went down the drain...  

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Having to rethink the entire thing with less than 24 hours until deadline, is one of those situations that you really don’t want to find yourself in. Nonetheless that is what happened. 

I took the liberty to do a complete shift in expression. Instead of me portraying strangers with no emotional affiliation to my life, or Steve's for that matter, I decided on sharing some shots of the one thing that I know mattered most to him:

Family.

I cannot speak on behalf of Steve, but I can speak for me when I say that family is everything. They bring me all the emotions that I can experience as a human being. The entire spectrum. 

When the feeling of loss and sadness takes a toll on my mind, the feelings of hope, innocence and happiness always prevail when I see my kids at play and look into the eyes of my wife. 

This is what “being here” is all about for me. Being here, for Steve, everyday enjoying life with those around me that matters the most. 
Here’s to you and your loved ones Steve.

Them verticals

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Photography by Jonas Rask

The breaking wave and the muscle as it contracts obey the same law. Delicate line gathers the body’s total strength in a bold balance. Shall my soul meet so severe a curve, journeying on its way to form?
— Dag Hammarskjold

Scism

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Photography by Jonas Rask

I know the pieces fit ‘cause I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering. Fundamental differing
Pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion
Disintegrating as it goes testing our communication
The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so
We cannot seem to reach an end crippling our communication

I know the pieces fit ‘cause I watched them tumble down
No fault, none to blame, it doesn’t mean I don’t desire to
Point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over
To bring the pieces back together, rediscover communication

The poetry that comes from the squaring off between
And the circling is worth it
Finding beauty in the dissonance
— Maynard James Keenan

Ophelia 2049

Photography and words by Jonas Dyhr Rask

It happens every 20 years or so, that a tropical hurricane takes a different path through the atlantic, and instead of dying out over Greenland, it goes sightseeing in northern europe. Hurricane Ophelia recently took this path. It blew over Ireland, but it dragged along a cloud of the Sahara sands mixed with smoke from wildfires in Portugal. 

Three incidents all mixed into one coherent point in time. On October 16th, 2017 around 4 o'clock in the afternoon it rolled over London. What immediately followed was a light so different, so outer-worldly, that it looked like the coming of the Apocalypse. 

I Live To See Another Day

PHOTOGRAPHY AND TEXT BY STEVE SHIPMAN

I Live

I live with cancer. My life was turned upside down with that diagnosis five months ago. I struggled to get to grips with a life possibly curtailed to 12 months or so. Actually, I can't get to grips with that idea at all. It sits in my mind as a dark point in time, not that far ahead.

I am, or was, a reasonably successful photographer shooting mostly weddings - 30 a year or so. I made a painless transition to working with a brace of XPro2s, and a bevy of primes. I closed the business. I began the endurance test that is chemotherapy every three weeks - feeling crap, feeling ok, feeling good, then doing it all again. During the feeling good week, I am able to focus on my well-being a little more - enjoying my food, having more energy to see friends, and getting out with my camera, my beloved X100F. I live

To See

to see my two daughters growing into capable young women. To see my grandchildren one day. To see everything with more clarity, understanding and meaning and distil all of that into a photograph. My state of mind affects my image making profoundly, some days are better than others. Street photography isn't easy, and for a long time I avoided including people, not having the nerve, thinking it was too confrontational. I was simply looking for light, shapes, and textures. That's changing. The near invisibility of the X100F makes any shot possible. It all comes down to my own vision and reflexes.

Photographing on the street makes me happy. It's a brilliant distraction from the legal, financial and medical paperwork that needs my attention. It fulfils me creatively. The more I look the more I see. I'm getting bolder at including people in my images, and I complicate things further by seeking colour combinations and juxtapositions that I hope will lift the images to another level. To see

Another Day

another day is now a gift I seize with both hands and which I no longer take for granted. Cancer is an insidious disease, creeping malignantly and silently along its deadly course, robbing my life to feed its own. I have had four months of chemotherapy, along with the expected side effects (hair loss and fatigue) and some unexpected (a twice-torn retina and numb finger tips). I am very fortunate to now know that the treatment is working, and the tumours are shrinking. I have a temporary reprieve, and can relax a little. I have time to rebuild my body, and build on this body of work.

Yes, cancer has changed me. I'm more focussed. I try to cut through life's clutter more decisively. I make sure I have things planned and things to look forward to. I spend time with my family and friends, without whom I would have crumbled psychologically weeks ago. I have a joint exhibition next year to focus on, a couple of self-published books to plan, and a lot more images to create. I feel positive and excited and more conscious. Street photography is both rewarding and frustrating. That's its appeal - I never know what's round the corner. And if I don't get the shot this time, there's nearly always another day.

Editors note: Take a look at Steve's impressive celebrity portraits HERE and make sure to follow his personal blog HERE

Seclusion//Sincerety

by Jonas Rask

Narration is linear. Narration starts and ends. 

Set intro. 
Set exit. 

All thoughts and actions in between are fluid. Up for grabs. Interpretable.

In the greatest narrative of all, some seek companionship. Some seek to share their path. To reflect and receive. To give way for others to shape the interpretable.

But not all. Some confine or expand to seclusion. They administer stories in solitude and expel excess. 
Parallel are the entities and parallel are the narratives, but the frame is set

Set intro
Set exit