women and men
bernard rudden, women and men, bernard rudden women and men, bernard rudden photo, photographer, foto, fotografia, art
stars
he tore the world apart
persona
MJ
Pathe
cat
ice cream agfa
'something'
he
boy meets girl
tomatoes
view FULLSCREEN for best results.
Women And Men – Bernard Rudden
These faces were meant for some other purpose than this. The message of their once pristine looks transfigured, torn, scratched and distorted. Their shiny colourful syntax now a destitute pallor of abandonment, they float free from their original intention, far removed from the expectant gaze and the according seduction that, in the perfect schemata, would follow.
When I look at these – faces whose original intention, following the traces, the tears, the affects of the elements, the now muted message, the obsolescence of their medium leads to quite some other locus. Their fate is the locus of surfaces, or unintended forms and ironies. Yet through this fence of conventions, in each a semblance of portraiture remains, something of that moment of their nascent perfection, of faces which desired to be desired.
In their faces lie a desire to be seen: they need our gaze in order to reflect, in the words of Barthes, the “infinite complexity of morphological functions’, its perception fix. Making the photograph is a return to experience, to see anew them anew . Returning the gaze as quite another way, face to face again, gazed upon once more, no longer as they were but as they are.
Women And Men – Bernard Rudden
These faces were meant for some other purpose than this. The message of their once pristine looks transfigured, torn, scratched and distorted. Their shiny colourful syntax now a destitute pallor of abandonment, they float free from their original intention, far removed from the expectant gaze and the according seduction that, in the perfect schemata, would follow.
When I look at these – faces whose original intention, following the traces, the tears, the affects of the elements, the now muted message, the obsolescence of their medium leads to quite some other locus. Their fate is the locus of surfaces, or unintended forms and ironies. Yet through this fence of conventions, in each a semblance of portraiture remains, something of that moment of their nascent perfection, of faces which desired to be desired.
In their faces lie a desire to be seen: they need our gaze in order to reflect, in the words of Barthes, the “infinite complexity of morphological functions’, its perception fix. Making the photograph is a return to experience, to see anew them anew . Returning the gaze as quite another way, face to face again, gazed upon once more, no longer as they were but as they are.