Tag Archives: Longing

Liz Huston

Photographer and Artist, Liz Huston may live in Venice, California, a place known for interesting characters, but it’s in Liz’s imagination that the truly unique characters exist. Her work has evolved from a  traditional film background into digital assemblage and photomontage, allowing her rich imagination to flourish. Liz continually explores new ways of expressing her  dreams and inner landscapes, and it was through this process that she discovered a deep sense
of artistic purpose. 
Liz works as a commercial and fine art photographer, has exhibited nationally, and has published three books
of her photography, with a fourth currently in the works. Her work will be featured in the exhibition, LA Mixtape at LeBasse Projects Chinatown in Los Angeles opening Friday, August 4th.

Tales of Love and LongingI am fascinated with the way memory
influences how stories change and evolve over time. This happens not
because the facts change, but because the inner orientation of the
storyteller has. Their perspective grows, expanding and contracting with
experience. The storyteller journeys us deep into the timeless aspects
of the human experience; the kingdoms of love and loss, through a myriad
of emotions. Through grief, resolve, growth and into the balance of
purpose. 
Images from Tales of Love and Longing
…And the Truth Shall Set You Free, 2011

 The human form, quite often a female form, is the storyteller within my art. She comes to us in the nude, like a baby, with nothing to hide: her full power and breadth still intact. We see her as metaphor, as paradox embodied. She has the power of flight, yet chooses to walk. She has the ability to swim in great depths, yet allows herself to be captured and tamed.  She teaches us, she moves through us, and yet, she does not belong to us. She is composed of images from the past and the present, and thus inhabits multiple worlds at once. This time traveler, this storyteller, unites the treads of time– leading us home, bringing us back into ourselves. 

 Do As I Say (Not As I Do), 2011

Do You Love Me? (Nick Cave Tribute), 2012

 So Long As You Wish It, 2010

 Creative Isolation and the Map of Authenticity, 2011

 Goodnight, My Love, 2010

 Lullabies in Glass, 2012

 When I Found You, I Thought There Was Nothing Left, 2009

 Persistent Dream in a Broken Reality, 2010
 If There is a Prison in Your Mind, May the Bars be the Same Color As the Sky, 2012

 Self Help as a Competitive Sport, 2011

 The Slumber of Ondine, 2011

 The World Is As You Are, 2011

Walking the Spaces Between Where You End and I Begin, 2010

Tealia Ellis Ritter, Alicia

Tealia Ellis Ritter, Alicia

Tealia Ellis Ritter

Alicia,
Barrington, Illinois, 2011
From the Look At me series
Website – EllisRitter.com

Tealia Ellis Ritter was born in Illinois in 1978. She was given her first camera, at the age of six by her father. After attending Columbia College Chicago, where she completed her BA in Fine Art Photography, she earned her MFA at the University of Iowa with a major in Fine Art Photography and a minor in Printmaking. Her interests lie in exploring, in both a physical and emotional sense, the ways in which people present themselves and their environment when they know they are on display. Her work focuses on the nature of longing, vulnerability, self-consciousness and image as a construction. She has exhibited internationally, most recently by The New Yorker, at PRC: Exposure 2011, on Women in Photography, at Catherine Edelman Gallery, by Taschen NYC and in Humble Arts' 31 Under 31 exhibition.

Akiko Takizawa @Daiwa Foundation, London


At the heart of Japanese photographer Akiko Takizawa’s work lies feelings of dislocation, displacement and isolation. Her black and white photographs, unsettling yet peaceful, are imbued with a sense of loss and longing while retaining that vital glimmer of hope. Dim shafts of light creep into dusty, shadow-shrouded interiors or softly illuminate barren landscapes. The images seem suspended between a dreamlike and wakeful state, teetering at the threshold of consciousness. The line between sleep and death, death and life is tantalisingly blurred. 

Her most recent exhibition, Over the Parched Field, on display at Daiwa Anglo-Japanese Foundation, London from 18 January to 1 March, showcases a selection of collotype prints of Takizawa’s work from the last six years, photographs she describes as “semi-autobiographical”. Taken at the shrines of Osorezan (Fear Mountain) and Goshogawara in county Aomori in the north of Japan, they depict holy places that were created to memorialiseand heal the spirits of children who have passed away. Stone statues adorn the volcanic landscape, protecting the souls of the deceased, while ‘bridal’ shrines are draped with mementoes, left by parents for their children when they come of age. Takizawa describes it as a place of calm that heightened her sense of solitude.

Loss is obviously a central theme in her work – both personal and the loss of others – although the pictures she takes are very much for her. “I take photographs for my own sake,” remarks Takizawa. “In one way I’m documenting what I see but what appears [in my pictures] has a more dreamlike quality. Sometimes it feels like it’s not completely up to me what appears in the photographs. But I feel a need to communicate what I see.”

Takizawaalso says she uses her photography to communicate with relatives who are no longer alive. “I feel that my camera acts as an antenna to receive signals carrying urgent messages from the lost lives and objects that fill the air around us.” She adds: “We think of time as a single line but people talk about there being another time, and that concept interests me. I feel a sense of déja-vu, though not necessarily having lived a past life. Maybe living and dying are on the same line. When I look at photographs of dead people I almost feel that their lives are continuing within the photographs.”

Takizawa describes her work as the embodiment of feeling like a stranger in her own country, and indeed she admits that it was not until she left Japan that she could begin to reflect upon her complex relationship with her background. This distance allowed her to begin to make sense of the photographs she took there. “I had to physically remove myself from Japan in order to work on [the photographs,]” she confesses. “Even though I love Japan, I feel I don’t fit in, although I always want to photograph my country.”

Gemma Padley is the Features Editor at Amateur Photographer Magazine and is currently studying a Masters in the History of Art with Photography at Birkbeck University.

Paris: Carnet de Recherche by Krass Clement

Seeing the name Paris scream across the cover of Krass Clement’s newest book Paris: Carnet de Recherche I braced myself for disappointment. The “home” of street photography has produced numerous books in the past which find themselves amounting to little beyond “greatest hits” collections of images offering syrupy nostalgia and no surprise. Clement is well aware of those familiar trappings – perhaps that is why the cover image printed right on the book’s cloth shows a romantic Paris metro X-d out by a couple of steel girders. His is an uphill battle which I am delighted to see proves he is an artist who tests our expectations.

As in the best of Clement’s books, Paris: Carnet de Recherche is a personal journey. Starting with a suite of images entering the city by train, we pass by cold landscapes of factories in dense grey light. Upon arrival, the city itself and its citizens appear weighed down and sluggish. Light seems to fight to illuminate the architecture and streets. It is hardly a warm arrival – our first destination – an empty cafe.

Photographed in both 35mm and square formats, Clement weaves through the city lingering for moments on small sequences of images – a woman improvises a dance in a bar that briefly lightens the mood; a protest in the streets led by youth. Interspersed are a few intimate images of women in hotel rooms, perhaps we are not traveling alone but our wanderings in the streets seem perceived through the eyes of someone longing for connection. Less for connection to place but for people.

In many of Clement’s books of the past there is an obvious filmic quality. The repetition of images allows the subtlety of events to play out with surprising result without feeling indulgent. Following the gestures of a man swallowing a drink while two women gossip in the background is resonant in its simplicity. There is less of that “step by step” quality here which I find often so powerful, but I suppose it is due to when these images were made in his life as a photographer. Photographed in the 60s and 70s these would consist of early works of Clement’s perhaps done before he was fully conscious of the methods he would employ in his later work and bookcraft. Here the sequence at times feels like a stream of jump-cuts and can appear sporadic. This might have been a fatal flaw to the book had Clement not been the great photographer he is. Still, he finds the connections between the individual frames to form links that, for the observant, will not disappoint. The end picture of a sequence of nighttime streets protests of youths burning a car is of a small wedding party where the wedding dress and veil reflect the previous conflagration. In another pairing, a woman on a subway hangs on the arm of a lover while on the facing page, a woman supports a dress she is offering for sale at a street market.

Bookwise, Paris: Carnet de Recherche is beautifully done. The publisher Gyldendal which releases many of Clemen’t books has again done a superb job with design and printing. One relief is that there is no introductory text nor afterword – the photographs are allowed to stand on their own as an open-ended journey.

Clement’s Novemberreisse from 2008 was one of my favorite books of the year and I was happy to see Paris: Carnet de Recherche appear as a “best of” suggestion by a couple people in the comments of my 2010 list. It was a steady contender for inclusion on mine as well but it has taken me some extra time to fully appreciate its nuances. Like most of Clement’s best, it is a slow and quiet burn that lingers long after the covers are closed.

Paris: Carnet de Recherche by Krass Clement

Seeing the name Paris scream across the cover of Krass Clement’s newest book Paris: Carnet de Recherche I braced myself for disappointment. The “home” of street photography has produced numerous books in the past which find themselves amounting to little beyond “greatest hits” collections of images offering syrupy nostalgia and no surprise. Clement is well aware of those familiar trappings – perhaps that is why the cover image printed right on the book’s cloth shows a romantic Paris metro X-d out by a couple of steel girders. His is an uphill battle which I am delighted to see proves he is an artist who tests our expectations.

As in the best of Clement’s books, Paris: Carnet de Recherche is a personal journey. Starting with a suite of images entering the city by train, we pass by cold landscapes of factories in dense grey light. Upon arrival, the city itself and its citizens appear weighed down and sluggish. Light seems to fight to illuminate the architecture and streets. It is hardly a warm arrival – our first destination – an empty cafe.

Photographed in both 35mm and square formats, Clement weaves through the city lingering for moments on small sequences of images – a woman improvises a dance in a bar that briefly lightens the mood; a protest in the streets led by youth. Interspersed are a few intimate images of women in hotel rooms, perhaps we are not traveling alone but our wanderings in the streets seem perceived through the eyes of someone longing for connection. Less for connection to place but for people.

In many of Clement’s books of the past there is an obvious filmic quality. The repetition of images allows the subtlety of events to play out with surprising result without feeling indulgent. Following the gestures of a man swallowing a drink while two women gossip in the background is resonant in its simplicity. There is less of that “step by step” quality here which I find often so powerful, but I suppose it is due to when these images were made in his life as a photographer. Photographed in the 60s and 70s these would consist of early works of Clement’s perhaps done before he was fully conscious of the methods he would employ in his later work and bookcraft. Here the sequence at times feels like a stream of jump-cuts and can appear sporadic. This might have been a fatal flaw to the book had Clement not been the great photographer he is. Still, he finds the connections between the individual frames to form links that, for the observant, will not disappoint. The end picture of a sequence of nighttime streets protests of youths burning a car is of a small wedding party where the wedding dress and veil reflect the previous conflagration. In another pairing, a woman on a subway hangs on the arm of a lover while on the facing page, a woman supports a dress she is offering for sale at a street market.

Bookwise, Paris: Carnet de Recherche is beautifully done. The publisher Gyldendal which releases many of Clemen’t books has again done a superb job with design and printing. One relief is that there is no introductory text nor afterword – the photographs are allowed to stand on their own as an open-ended journey.

Clement’s Novemberreisse from 2008 was one of my favorite books of the year and I was happy to see Paris: Carnet de Recherche appear as a “best of” suggestion by a couple people in the comments of my 2010 list. It was a steady contender for inclusion on mine as well but it has taken me some extra time to fully appreciate its nuances. Like most of Clement’s best, it is a slow and quiet burn that lingers long after the covers are closed.