The image is of an enlarger, used to project, copy, or enlarge negative film images onto chemically sensitive paper, by moving the lens box up or down to achieve a variety of sizes, or to place filmstrips directly on the paper and press them down with a glass plate for contact sheets. The timed, light exposed paper is developed slowly in a chemical bath, and then fixed in another bath to stop the developing process. Next, the print is watered for a while and then dried on a hot press. Depending on the quality of the negative, it’s a delicate art to achieve the optimal gradation of light and shadow in a final print. The process happens in a darkroom with only a red light.
Much was destroyed during the Second World War, and my parents started out with nothing but their skills. My mother had trained as photographer at the Berlin Lette House (Academy,) where women were encouraged to acquire academic and industrial skills. My father, apart from being a talented artist, for whom there was no call, trained and worked as a fine mechanic. Together they moved south and started a photographic business. The enlarger in the image was built by my father during the early 1950 s.
I was not interested in the business (another story,) but eventually studied photography, and this enlarger served me through a decade of self-employment, based in Munich, including still photography for projects by directors of the then German New Wave Cinema. I could have continued working in the film scene, but instead became a hippy, a seeker, a psychotherapist, and a writer, in that order.
Five years ago I donated the enlarger to a local art college. They were very pleased. I’m still mourning.
Having been a big part of my life, I thought of posting something about my experience with analogue photography here, but was fretting because it’s a deeply emotional subject, for another day. So this post did not turn out as intended.
There are glimpses worth sharing. To explore and understand the shift from analogue to digital systems, I wrote an article about Human Identity in the Digital age: ‘Body Electric.’ You can read it as PDF, and find the link on the ‘Other’ page here. It is 20 pages plus notes and bibliography, but after all these years, I still think it is definitely worth reading.
A great book on photography and surrealism, L’Amour Fou, carries a quote by Roger Callois, which shines a light on the fading idea of an original:
‘It is with represented space that the drama becomes clear; for the living being, the organism, is no longer the origin of the coordinates, but is one point among others;; it is dispossessed of its privilege and, in the strongest sense of the term, no longer knows where to put itself.’
The analogue process provided rich metaphors to live by, while the oracular quality of the digital system has fragmented many assumptions and values we hold about human nature and reality. Thing is, I don’t think we have caught up yet. We are all a bit lost in space and time – which has become a theme of my two novels, (see my Books page.)
Yesterday I had a surreal dream, all about us, and others, being developed (in our mind) through our ongoing experience. In the process, it can happen that we, and others, become fixed into static existence through our attitude, and our need for permanence and certainty.
Truly witnessing the tragedies on our planet is not the same as passive looking, witnessing expands and transforms consciousness. As an individual I feel helpless, unable to solve the overwhelming problems, but by witnessing and accepting the sad truth of what is happening, and by grieving the losses, I, each of us, in a small way, can contribute towards a necessary and crucial paradigm shift.
Some scenes near the end of the film bring home powerful metaphors – like what it takes to fly. Fledglings, to lighten their weight, must empty their stomachs of everything fed to them by their parents (in this instant plastic.) Mothers, forgive yourselves. We can hardly avoid dumping stuff on your offspring, be it psychic or material. Many fledglings don’t manage, but if lucky, and if the right wind comes along, their wings will carry them across the sea towards their adult adventure.
For the artist Maya Deren (1917-1951,) who created some highly influential films in her short life, scientific findings were but the raw materials of creative action: ‘The first step of creative action is the violation of the natural integrity of an original context.’ She saw the function of art and its validation in the creation of mythical realities. Her symbolic images of personal significance also chime universally.
Simulated reality blinds with the Gestalt of our collective mind, where every viewpoint exists at the same time. It lacks context and shadow definition, over-exposes our field of consciousness. For Baudrillard, the schizophrenic subject can no longer produce the limits of its own being, or produce itself as a mirror. It becomes a screen, a switching center for all networks of influence. The electric sphere of the internet simulates our nervous system and turns it inside out. There remains the reality of our psychological experiences, where shadows have to be reckoned with.
Birth and death remain the ultimate spinners of life. In the parlance of the mystic, the moment of exaltation is in the immanent glimpse of the curl of the beloved. Can the beloved be the beloved if she is fully known? And what do we know of the various dimensions where she resides?
Course of Mirrors 