tobias m. schiel
When, a while ago, the lens artists challenged us to share quiet moments, instead of going through my beach and museum and travel photos, I wondered if, and how, I could show my quiet moments en miniature. Pondering several possibilities, I realized that reading almost always gives me some quiet – and that I can experience this quietness everywhere and anytime.
Today I would like to share a couple of pictures which surprisingly turned into a short story.
„Wir lesen, weil wir so tausend Leben führen können, ohne mehr als einen Tod sterben zu müssen.“ Denis Scheck
(We read so we can live a thousand lives without having to die more than one death.)
When I saw the lens-artists challenge Quiet Moment, this was the first picture that came to mind – it obviously took a while to make it, and a whole series with readers in different moments along with it. This week’s challenge seems a great starting point for sharing: Who says you can’t have a quiet moment when you’re On the Move?
This week, the Lens-Artists Challenge certainly called for a re-post of one of my favorite photos: A competitive game and a companionable occasion.
Dancing never feels like workout. However, at the end of a session, you might have practiced coordination, balance, musicality – and even find yourself out of breath. Plus, you’ll have flexed your social muscle.
A good start to a good swim. Of these three pictures, this is the only one that’s new – one I always meant to make but did not get around to till today. So, thanks for the challenge!
“Going back” is this week’s Lens Artists Challenge; Sofia Alves takes us back to an old doors challenge. In the light of these two ideas I’d like to start this post with some back doors.
As far as toy photography goes, I love to build and photograph doors because of both their architectural and narrative potential. They are simple means of definig a building and evoking an atmosphere – back door or main? Factory or bar? Welcoming or forbidding?
A door is a passageway. This function evokes narrative. The door is closed: what’s happening behind it? The door is open: will someone walk through it? And then, what will happen?
The inside and the outside can stand for a before and an after. Thus, narrative – or the paasing of time – can be hinted at in a single picture.
This week, John Steiner of the Lens-Artists came up with a challenge that really got me thinking: John prompts us to pick a word “that fits your topic and select three or four appropriate photos to share.” In view of my toy photography years and the time before that, would I find any common denominator? I used to be very intersted in abstract photography, exploring real space and pictorial composition. It also seems I like showing affiliations or connections, both spatial and social.
One way of doing so was employing neagative space and stark contrasts – which is something I’ve also been exploring with toys lately. So here’s a little retrospective: three toy photos, and three photos showing memorials.
The latter date back to 2012-13, while the picture with the three deck chairs is no older than a week.
A bold dog for the Lens Artists’ challenge #337.
And I’m blinded by the neon
Don’t try and change my tune
I thought I heard a saxophone
I’m drunk on the moon
Tom Waits
Is it just me or does this reverberate with the lens artists’ challenge #331 – resilience?
Happy new year!
Slow down. Relax. Have a merry Christmas.
Lens-artists challenge #329: I am not entirely sure what’s happening in this picture because I was putting the focus on composition rather than narrative. However, the figures’ poses seem to hint at seomething last chance-y..
These miniature scenes do not happen out of the blue. I am an amateur photographer. I love wearing that type of cap. People have to wait for my while I take a photo. And yes, I have photographed shop windows before.
Scanning my photos for proof, I found some pictures that fit the bill. Looking back even made me realize I hid my face in my real-life self portraits as well.
I think when we photograph we always do it with thousands of pictures in our heads, even if we do not have them all before our inner eye in the moment we release the shutter.
Left: “A Picture With Me in It” (2012), right: “Junk” (2009)
empire of lights 