Still Life is an ongoing body of work dedicated to capturing the life of the space in between. The work visits thresholds – hard boundaries and soft edges, liminal spaces, urban areas, towns, villages, and countries. The photographs are shot in places often defined by the perimeters of others, places consequentially pregnant with a negative spatial identity.
More often than not, such places enjoy a powerful, enduring placidity. Given that the medium bestows stillness to spaces and situations by its very nature, photographing them feels natural. They are beacons of neutrality and their anonymity occurs to me as anything but menacing. These places do not seem to demand much of my doing them justice, nor am I permitted to expect anything from them in return. Such is the sense of void which
they conjure, that I immediately feel like a welcome intrusion.
The threshold spaces presented here, from streams to extended road kerbs and small patches of green, carry a distinct sense of national character. And yet there seems to be a common presence to them all, some form of intangible spirit, not unlike music, of which they all partake.
The photographs in this series were taken in Rome (Italy), Kovilj (Serbia) and Malta.
This ongoing series owes its beginning to an inadvertent purchase of a zoom lens from a small shop in Belgrade. Never particularly interested in working with one, and only acquired as it was conveniently bundled with a camera of my liking, it eventually found its object in these photos of people.
Photographing them in private, whether in a room or outdoors, often felt like an invitation into one’s intimate space. I’m their photographer, an invisible intruder, sharing surroundings with a counterpart enveloped in a revelatory solitude which I seek to capture. They’re nearly alone, but not quite – the zoom lens then, becomes a vital element, allowing me to move further away from my subject and render myself less visible, less present.
Enabling me to capture a person’s intimate aura, the distance between lens and subject is at once means and protagonist. Moving further away from the subject gave rise to a paradoxical sense of proximity and the impression of a close, intimate connection; the less present I was to my subjects, the brighter that intangible personal space around them glowed.