Tag Archives: Walther

2011 Paris Photo Patrons’ Trip

This year, Aperture was pleased to invite its Trustees and Patrons to join us for a series of exclusive activities surrounding Paris Photo 2011.

Celebrating Paris as the capital of photography during the Fair, our supporters enjoyed visiting Diane Arbus’ retrospective at the Jeu de Paume, guided by museum’s director Marta Gili. They  also went on a behind-the-scenes tour of one of the most comprehensive libraries of contemporary photography at the Maison Européenne de la Photographie, guided by Irène Attinger, head of the library. At Le Bal, they met with the director Diane Dufour, who presented this new space for documentary photography and new media. The Patrons joined the private opening reception of the Aperture Presents exhibition at the Montblanc store. They followed tours by curators Simon Baker (Tate Modern, London) and Anne Lacoste (Musée de l’Elysée, Lausanne), collector Artur Walther, and publisher Markus Schaden presenting their exhibitions at Paris Photo. And of course, their trip would not have been complete without gathering in a typical Parisian atmosphere for a cocktail reception and piano concert by Mio Chiba at the home of Dr. Michèle Verschoore.

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The Patrons Group at Paris Photo, meeting with Jeffrey Fraenkel and joined by Martin Parr

For more information about Aperture’s Patron Program and to join online, please visit: http://www.aperture.org/membership.

Appropriated Landscapes at The Walther Collection

Grande Hotel, Beira, Mozambique, 2008. © Guy Tillim

Appropriated Landscapes

Exhibition on view:
June 16th, 2011–May 13th, 2012

The Walther Collection:
Reichenauerstrasse 21
89233 Neu-Ulm / Burlafingen
Germany
+49 731 1769 143

The Walther Collection’s Appropriated Landscapes is a group exhibition focusing on contemporary landscape photography. The exhibit explores a wide range of issues—including war, colonization, and ideology—and their effects on the Southern African landscape. Appropriated Landscapes attempts to expand the definition of  “landscape” beyond geographical or physical space, by looking at it as a mental and social construct that influences individual and cultural identity. The exhibit features fourteen artists, including three photographers who have been previously published in Aperture: Mitch Epstein, Mikhael Subotzky, and Guy Tillim were featured in issues 168, 188, and 193, respectively.

Tea, Coffee, Cappuccino by Boris Mikhailov



Writing in the foreword to his 1996 book Am Boden (By the Ground) Boris Mikhailov states; The fourth year of change. Not much has been reorganized, but a lot has changed. I already notice the tendency towards a “new” society, a deterioration in the quality of life for most people and the waning hope that some time everything will turn out fine for them. He continues; To a certain extent, I was always a street photographer. I always searched the streets for historical symbols of the present times. The streets reflect social processes like a mirror. What that book and its companion Die Dämmerung (At Dusk) described was bleak – everything seems to have collapsed at once spreading, in Mikhailov’s words, the feeling of a natural catastrophe. It was felt in the book’s titles – the darkening end of an era and the lowered perspective pulling us to the earth. the title of his newest offering Tea, Coffee, Cappuccino published by Verlag der Buchhandlung Walther König might be signaling a lighter, more positive view. Guess again.

Photographing in his hometown of Kharkov, Mikhailov has once again taken to the streets to reflect social process. On the cover, three men laugh and smile good-naturedly at the camera, almost mocking the choices offered by the book’s title. What choice has been given by the arrival of western splendor? Cappuccino? The blossoming adverts that rise above the crumbled and muddy streets? Nearly everyone in the 200 color photographs seem to be carrying shopping bags and bundles full of goods giving the impression that success has been achieved but as Mikhailov speculates “a flux of cheap commodities has conquered ubiquitously, creating a colorful new plastic reality.” The previous eras long breadlines have now been replaced by lines waiting for infrequent trams.

The facing spreads form disjointed panoramics which seem a natural continuum to By the Ground and At Dusk. Mikhailov notes that the photos ‘fitted together in a chronologic order: what was photographed earlier is at the beginning, and the later photos are towards the end.’ This order, bracketed by images of people kicking up their heels in impromptu can-can dances, seems to show a drift into a mental state of escapism and spectacle until a Kurt Cobain Jesus makes his appearance in the final photograph.

Bookwise, Tea, Coffee, Cappuccino is straightforward in design and printing. The flow of images seems daunting because of the amount but appropriate for a book that is partly about the dream of excess. The awkward cover design seems to be a nod towards the poor design of the ever-present advertising seen throughout the book.

As in all of Mikhailov’s other books his presence is felt or literally seen as both insider and outsider. In Tea, Coffee, Cappuccino he pratfalls out of a kiosk doorway and perches on a small railing trying to inject humor as an occasional diversion. This portrait of Kharkov might be his darkest work yet. Even though Case History portrayed a populace often homeless and rife with disease there was a sense that death – an end to the misery – was close at hand. In Tea, Coffee, Cappuccino, what he has shown might be the state for a long time to come.

Tea, Coffee, Cappuccino by Boris Mikhailov



Writing in the foreword to his 1996 book Am Boden (By the Ground) Boris Mikhailov states; The fourth year of change. Not much has been reorganized, but a lot has changed. I already notice the tendency towards a “new” society, a deterioration in the quality of life for most people and the waning hope that some time everything will turn out fine for them. He continues; To a certain extent, I was always a street photographer. I always searched the streets for historical symbols of the present times. The streets reflect social processes like a mirror. What that book and its companion Die Dämmerung (At Dusk) described was bleak – everything seems to have collapsed at once spreading, in Mikhailov’s words, the feeling of a natural catastrophe. It was felt in the book’s titles – the darkening end of an era and the lowered perspective pulling us to the earth. the title of his newest offering Tea, Coffee, Cappuccino published by Verlag der Buchhandlung Walther König might be signaling a lighter, more positive view. Guess again.

Photographing in his hometown of Kharkov, Mikhailov has once again taken to the streets to reflect social process. On the cover, three men laugh and smile good-naturedly at the camera, almost mocking the choices offered by the book’s title. What choice has been given by the arrival of western splendor? Cappuccino? The blossoming adverts that rise above the crumbled and muddy streets? Nearly everyone in the 200 color photographs seem to be carrying shopping bags and bundles full of goods giving the impression that success has been achieved but as Mikhailov speculates “a flux of cheap commodities has conquered ubiquitously, creating a colorful new plastic reality.” The previous eras long breadlines have now been replaced by lines waiting for infrequent trams.

The facing spreads form disjointed panoramics which seem a natural continuum to By the Ground and At Dusk. Mikhailov notes that the photos ‘fitted together in a chronologic order: what was photographed earlier is at the beginning, and the later photos are towards the end.’ This order, bracketed by images of people kicking up their heels in impromptu can-can dances, seems to show a drift into a mental state of escapism and spectacle until a Kurt Cobain Jesus makes his appearance in the final photograph.

Bookwise, Tea, Coffee, Cappuccino is straightforward in design and printing. The flow of images seems daunting because of the amount but appropriate for a book that is partly about the dream of excess. The awkward cover design seems to be a nod towards the poor design of the ever-present advertising seen throughout the book.

As in all of Mikhailov’s other books his presence is felt or literally seen as both insider and outsider. In Tea, Coffee, Cappuccino he pratfalls out of a kiosk doorway and perches on a small railing trying to inject humor as an occasional diversion. This portrait of Kharkov might be his darkest work yet. Even though Case History portrayed a populace often homeless and rife with disease there was a sense that death – an end to the misery – was close at hand. In Tea, Coffee, Cappuccino, what he has shown might be the state for a long time to come.