Archival pigment prints from a series about a brief moment when the first hit of day heralds dawn over Sunset Blvd.
Archival pigment prints from a series about a brief moment when the first hit of day heralds dawn over Sunset Blvd.
When I arrived in Los Angeles from the UK, Sunset Blvd had an allure from the 1950 eponymous noir movie by Billy Wilder. Moving to Echo Park was a contrast to the film version of the Boulevard but nonetheless dramatic, a street filled with possibilities and contrasts. My series Dawn on Sunset looks at Sunset Blvd during an unfamiliar time, at first light. With few people, little traffic, something slightly unfamiliar happening on the boulevard. In Los Angeles, due to its latitude, the twilight is short lived, fleeting, short too are the moments when the city changes gear from night to day. It these brief instants I am inspired to investigate the transitory reveal of a familiar place in an unfamiliar light.
Archival pigment prints from the coast of Iceland. shot on film with a low tech alternative camera from the 1960s.
A common expression in England is to describe something as being “terribly beautiful”, as if pain is the price for beauty, as though we can only just about stand the assault on our senses. This usages is less common in the US, thus the tension between the words becomes more palpable with its unfamiliarity. There is a cruel beauty to nature in these photographs, they reference vast time scales, geological power and solitude of the landscapes in Iceland. It’s a beauty that does not care if we are looking, or even if we exist, there is terror in that.
