Krishnamurti said: “Freedom is space and space is order”. In my photographic investigations I have realised that space is owned and cannot possibly be rented. But my assignment was to photographically investigate some art installations in the island of San Giorgio Maggiore in Venice, to find out first hand if there was any truth to that statement. As I was following my oblivious subject, what I thought that it was a mind-block proved to be totally liberating. In the complete silence of the installation I realised something else that Krishnamurti has said in The Book of Life: “Having already done everything possible to find the answer, the mind becomes spontaneously quiet. There is an awareness without choice, without any demand, an awareness in which there is no anxiety; and in that state of mind there is perception. It is this perception alone that will resolve all our problems”.
Space 1999 has always been my favourite science fiction TV show. I was 7 years old when it was aired but I remember vividly all the episodes that I watched. Not long ago, I managed to find both series of this amazing TV show and I frequently watch a random episode for inspiration, as every self respecting photographic investigator would do. The one called “Collision course” is about a planet that appearances (and science logic) say that it will crush upon Moon base Alpha (that is stranded in space along with Earth’s moon) unless destroyed with nuclear bombs. But Commander Koening is reached by a being of this planet (in a form of a vision) that explains to him his part in the plot of events: that he is to let the planet touch the Moon base without fear so that it’s inhabitants can reach a higher, purely spiritual level of existence. Koening is struck and convinced by the power and sincerity of this being but finds resistance by the people of the Moon base Alpha who think that he is delusional, possibly from radiation sickness. In the end the cosmic bodies touch and the other planer disappears. The episode finish with Commander Koening saying: “Who could know that a planet in collision course would not collide but simply… touch?”
I was photographically investigating “The game of life” that was taking place in a dimension that I am not allowed to reveal. A game, the participants of which were unaware of. That made it very interesting for a photographic investigator such as I, but, most of the time, very frustrating for the participants. It was a game of boomerangs, in which the thoughts, deeds and thoughts sooner of later returned back to their creators. Each one had the chance to create their own world, a world made exclusively from crystallised ideas, feelings and words. Of course their creators didn’t know that and, in their majority, they believed that everything that they were experiencing was the result of some unknown and uncontrollable external factors or powers. Of course the game had rules and laws which were unshakable and worked both ways -for better or for worst. 80% of the participants applied them unconsciously for worst. The laws were written and explained by various “helpers”, but the participants of the game had their attention turned elsewhere and didn’t seem to want to understand them. I don’t know who created the game or why or even how the participants were caught in it. All I know is that being an investigator, a watcher, one felt un urge to enter the game -driven by the confidence and certainty of it’s present state of control and understanding of the game, a control and understanding that they would have to abandon though as soon as they entered the game, which was one of the cruel tricks of it: forgetfulness. Many photographic investigators had been trapped in it with no chance of escaping. Have I ever been one of them? Was I even one of them? These thoughts made me wanna leave this dimension sooner than planned, and that is why my investigation was kinda short.
October is the Celtic month of Ivy and it brings the promise of the inner self and the spiral of life. I read that Ivy’s growth reflects the spiraling patterns of DNA, the gifts our ancestors gave us. For a photographic investigator family is very often a cause for frustration, but this time I decided to see things from the celtic perspective and contemplate on my positive inherited attributes, family traits that have served me well. Made me feel like entering a new, wondrous world…
What can really be the end of a photographic investigator is not travelling in space, but travelling in time. And I've done that a lot... For some unexplained and probably mystical (or totally meaningless) reason, every time I had to travel in time I was going back to Venice. So, my energy resources were every time smaller, although my ticket was getting cheaper and cheaper. It felt like a countdown. "Al fin, que para morir nacimos" as they say in Mexico... "In the end, we are born to die". Who knows? Maybe the end of my photographic investigations would come in the middle, inside the time vortex, outside of time. I wonder if all my work would disappear with me too. It should, I think.
A photographic investigator knows that her subjects, hypnotised by the shadows they create, they don't see the All Watching Eye in the projection wall. Doe's she try to alert them?
Mirrors are not always welcome but they are always there, in front of us. Photographically investigating what mirrors can do... Is it the same thing as meditating on the human experience?
The life of a photographic investigator can be "found" in or "described" by Electric Light Orchestra's songs. It's magic. So, today, I guess it's "Heaven only knows" from the album "Balance of Power": Now the sun will shine And I'm gonna work it out this time And before the light All I gotta take is one more night Heaven only knows, I'm really on the level Heaven only knows, I'm trying to find a way Heaven only knows, I'm walking down a straight and lonely road today
There is something in common between Mona Lisa and my subjects: no matter how many times they have been "investigated" they never lost their essence. After infinite variations and approaches, they remain their beautiful, amazing, unique self... Always different, always unchanged.
Photographically investigating people who aren't real -but they think they are- is a challenge... Who knows... maybe I am being investigated myself right now. How do I know for sure that I am real? When the question really arises, answering it becomes a true challenge... You should try it yourself!
She was Mister Minimal's cousin. According to an oracle, she would become very rich one day, but she didn't know that. I did, of course. I was investigating her, a subject who was very lucky, but thought of herself as unlucky. The result was overwhelmingly... minimal. She was known as Mis (not Miss) Minimal and it was her who taught Mister Minimal all about being minimal... The only thing about her that wasn't minimal was her future fortune... but that was in a different timeline.
Secret meetings very often take place in museums and that's why those are ideal places to meet photographic investigators like me... This time it was the Acropolis Museum in Athens and it was me who was being stalked... And I am saying "stalked" because to be investigated demands a lot more skills than the guy who was following me possessed. Stalkers and wannabe "investigators" of photographic investigators make me feel sorry for them... a feeling of decadence fills my heart and instead of running away, I indulge them. I could never see as an equal a person who would want to investigate me... so I let them have what they want, knowing they will get nothing in the end. In that context, I was wandering in this beautiful museum of minimalistic architecture and I didn't mind at all pretending to be a tourist.... it was a hot noon in Athens and inside it was wonderfully cool.
It was the name of an art bar in Athens. My photographic investigation was surrounded by mystery because, this time, I had to find out for myself who my subjects were. My employer could not disclose that information and although it might seem unusual, I knew it was for safety reasons -my safety. It was one of those times when conceptual projections could not only mislead you, but kill you. So, I entered the bar without expectations and preconceptions, without clinging to thoughts. I was late for the reading of erotic poetry. But I knew instantaneously that my subjects would come to me. I went to the garden. The name of the bar clearly suggested that after the poetry reading some sort of crime would take place. Without expectations of an Agatha Christie plot -but secretly hoping for it, I must admit- I waited. My connection, Dorian loaded a roll of film in his camera. That was the signal. I got up, approached his table and tripped. Four arms reached out for me. The two belonged to a beautiful male creature, the Dandy. In his vintage diamond cufflinks I could read the word "Poems" in cryptic writing. The other two belonged to a sparkling female creature, the Therapist. In her necklace the word "Crimes" was featuring in the same cryptic manner. I knew then that Poems and Crimes were the names of two families of people whose role though, remained to be discovered. One thing I knew with certainty: I had to shoot them both. Since the beginning of my career as a photographic investigator, it was always clear to me that each investigation could be my last one. My intuition told me that this time the possibilities were greater. I took out my camera and when the luminosity of these magnificent beings shone upon me I recognised it as the inner radiance of my own mind.
Last impressions from the Venice Biennale now that it's over… Surprisingly, the people are still the predominant feature. They are art. And there comes the question: doe's art exist without people? A long debate… I just took some shots.
As the pictures show, it happens in 4 moves and it is very common in art exhibitions. This incident happened during the Venice Biennale 2015, in Arsenale. A trained photographic investigator can spot them almost in all art related events, though.
