We live in interesting times of great contrast. Light versus dark. In the grand scheme of things, it will all be over in a blink of an eye. Right here, right now, it is easy to feel like Frodo.
“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” - J.R.R. Tolkien
—Highway 40, heading towards Trois-Rivières—I last visited ten years ago, when my uncle passed away. Jacob wasn't even three at the time and Cynthia had stayed home with her mom—she was due to give birth any day now and we were in total standby mode. I was clutching my phone, ready to bolt at the earliest warning sign.—Exit to road 131, Notre-Dame-Des-Prairies—But my previous and most vivid memory is of my dad at the wheel. I'm sitting next to him, my sister and mother in the backseat. I had a tendency to get car sick you see, and would always sit in front, propped up on a pillow so I could watch the road ahead. It helped, apparently.—Notre-Dame-De-Lourdes...my sister is on the phone, she's lost—We have a car full of kids and I'm the dad now. Same direction, same litany of saintly villages nestled between barren november fields. Every stop a memory, every street light and every sign like a bolt of lightning.—Kiri, St-Félix-De-Valois—Kiri made soft drinks, a local brand my grandparents used to get delivered directly to their house. The building is on the very same corner but I can't tell if it's abandoned or not.
—Turn left, rue Principale, St-Cleophas-De-Brandon—Here we are, decades back and light years ahead; where time has stood still yet devoured all we knew. The urn is heavy and it's hard for me to reach all the way down into the hole without letting go. But I do and we stand in silence and then we leave. We've spoken all the words already. My grandparents' old house is just down the hill, a sad remnant of what it used to be. If someone lives here they do so in squalor. We walk around and I can almost picture the big red tractor, grandpa hitching his wagon as we hop on board: "on va faire un tour au bout de la terre!" he'd say. He meant the property line but my child's mind would hear a more literal, almost mystical phrase: we're taking a ride to the end of the earth.
This is where we are now, I realize, having crossed the threshold and whispered our final goodbyes.
This is where we all stand...at the End of the Earth.
Kevin Mullins | X100T, 1/900 sec at f/6.4, ISO 200
Patrick La Roque | X-Pro2, 1/160 sec at f/5, ISO 2000 (22.3mm)
Charlene Winfred | X-Pro2, 1/150 sec at f/2, ISO 320 (53mm)
Flemming Bo Jensen | X-T2, 1/2200 sec at f/4, ISO 200 (18mm)
Derek Clark | X-Pro2, 1/125 sec at f/1.2, ISO 100 (56mm f1.2)
Bert Stephani | X-Pro2, 1/1000 sec at f/1.2, ISO 200 (56mm)
Robert Catto | X-Pro 1, 1/250 sec at f/2.8, ISO 6400 (18mm f/2)
Story by René Delbar, participant of the Brussels KAGE Temporary Collective Workshop
Feel the pulse of the modern metropolis: vibrant, restless and chaotic. Always in change, buzzing with activity. Constantly fighting decay and rebuilding for the future.
Meanwhile we mortals, nothing but shadows and dust, go on with our everyday lives.
Mostly oblivious to what transpires below the surface.
X-Pro2, 23/1.4, 35/2, 56/1.2
Story by Helmut Puellmanns, participant of the Brussels KAGE Temporary Collective Workshop
Our theme was surface(s). A surface is a border between inside and outside. A Surface can be opaque or transparent so it shows or hides. Reflections on a surface gives you different views of the same thing.
You can see through a transparent surface to the layers behind, feeling like an agent (spy). A surface can be what people show the world to hide their emotions.
Story by Patrick Dricot, participant of the Brussels KAGE Temporary Collective Workshop
(Just) Take a few seconds.
To think about.
That woman (that man) everyday.
The same train.
(Everyday) The same stairs.
Sometime, just too tired.
Even in the day, but she (he) knows.
That in the light, She (he) is.
A giant on the surface.
Story by Peter Ortmann, participant of the Brussels KAGE Temporary Collective Workshop
I love the complexity of the different layers of this series. Shot free hand and in a very short time while people are rushing from one end of the Brussels main train station to another one. The wall was built of clean white and reflective squares where some where printed with images I presume have been taken in the train station. We see people moving up and down, photographed in black & white and with a very slow shutter speed. We cannot recognize them but feel the rush. Without the context, the lines formed by the squares are unintelligible. We think we understand at first before realizing that we did not understand and stay superficial. Unfortunately, I forgot to look out for the photographer’s name.
Then another layer comes in. The bypassing people were also photographed in their movement. They could be part of the initial frame, but they are not. They do destroy the visual harmony of the grid lines and join the scene in color. At the same time, the formal, straight angle of view, reduce them visually to the initial two-dimensional canvas.
At the end we stand there with very few information and nearly no depth, no perspective, no visual details, no moods. Like every encounter during a rush hour, we stay superficial.
Story by Guillaume Lebur, participant of the Brussels KAGE Temporary Collective Workshop
At the most basic, fundamental level, photography is about collision.
Light hitting an object, bouncing, and being gathered.
I like the intersection of planes, the crossing of lines, the meeting places between people, between objects, or just between constantly shifting, fading shadows.
Surfaces. Textures. Light, shade.
That's all we have.
Stepping out. Stepping in. Stepping into memories.
