Some Things Are Different In Photo

 Published in FFWD Weekly on June 23, 2011 http://www.ffwdweekly.com/article/arts/visual-arts/some-things-are-different-in-photo-7673/

 

If ever there was a photographer who could transcend the medium’s limitation of capturing a millisecond in time, it is Canadian David Burdeny. His large-scale photographs layer present moments with the preceding ones through his characteristically long exposures, giving them a quality of stillness and movement all at once.

Whether you are looking at his black-and-white Shoreline series, his North/South series depicting icebergs or his latest series entitled Ancora — a signature minimal and surreal style is at play.

Ancora features new work from Japan, Italy, the U.S. and Southeast Asia. Inspired by travel writers, Burdeny embarked on a solo journey to these five continents “by foot, car, boat, motorcycle and happenstance,” seeking “beautiful, delicate and mysterious” moments to capture.

A two- to three-tier composition is typical of his photographs: An enveloping sky is stacked on top of an expansive depiction of land or water with traces of human activity, interjected in between, near the clearly delineated horizon. The only thing that varies within this formula is the proportions: At times equal parts of sky and water; at other times sky takes over three-quarters of the picture plane.

While the one-point perspective effectively draws our eyes into the photograph’s mid-ground where the subject takes place, an almost obscene amount of surface dedicated to negative space invites the viewer to contemplate humanity’s vulnerabilities amid nature’s immensity.

In fact, with a few exceptions, Burdeny abstains from using humans in his images altogether, and even when he does, they are ant-size — as in the surfers featured in his Hawaii portrait — sprinkled into a seemingly infinite landscape.

The mysterious-and-looming quality of his work is owed to his preference of shooting in the light of dusk and dawn, and his impartiality to working in foggy, rainy and misty conditions, which he likes because it eliminates the background clutter and deep shadows.

Ancora presents us with familiar tourist attractions such as the Eiffel Tower, Venice’s canals and the Palace of Versailles with surprising twists. Expecting lush and vibrant colours in his Hawaii portrait, for instance, we are instead confronted by a menacing, cold and almost clinical white-and-blue panorama. Similarly, while typically photographed at angles that emphasize its sheer monumentality, the Eiffel Tower is reduced to the background position, its steel structure blending seamlessly with the more prominent curtain of trees in the foreground.

The pristine-and-polished finish of Burdeny’s photographs makes them almost inaccessible, like dishware that is too precious to eat from. This combined with the fact that they are framed in what appear to be shadow-boxes adds to their obscurity.

“Ominous, haunting and beautiful” are some of the adjectives attributed to Burdeny’s art, and while they might not usually be used in the same sentence, here, all three are surprisingly fitting. “Sublime, spiritual, meditative and Zen-like” are equally apt descriptions, as the photographs inspire awe and veneration of something far greater and powerful than ourselves.

A less widely used set of adjectives with regards to Burdeny’s art — desolate, bleak and sombre — is also applicable if not for the intactness of the buildings and cityscapes. One could easily imagine them as post-Armageddon shots, providing clues into the humans that once inhabited the Earth.

Whether man-made or a creation of Mother Nature, reacquainting ourselves with the majestic is productive every now and again, if nothing else to humble ourselves back into perspective.