Go to Gerry Gomez latest post (Friday November 14th) and see what you think. I can't quite figure it out but something intrigues me here

http://gerrygomez.blogspot.com/

Peter Wuffli ex Head of UBS has returned 12 million CHF in bonuses. I guess he can maybe afford it, but that's a significant amount of money, not just a gesture.

The big question on everyones lips is will ex-chief Marcel Ospel follow suit? Already with little public sympathy because of his perceived role in the grounding of Swissair, will he be able to resist? He received no bonus last year, but maybe people expect him to reach into his renumeration from previous years.

Helmut Wachter is a photographer based in Zürich. I didn't know his work, but I came across a portfolio of images accompanying an article in the weekend magazine of Tages Anzeiger (German only). It's surprising, at least to me, to see such quality reportage photography in the glossies these days. Maybe I'm not looking hard enough.

You can find out more on his website.

Photo is copyright Helmut Wachter naturally. Some might find it a bit distressing. Strangely, although the magazine is small format, the print impression works much better than the on screen images

I like the work of Emily Little.

I first saw her landscapes at an RSA Exhibition in Edinburgh a couple of years ago. She divides her time between Rome and Edinburgh and maybe I'm seeing what I want to see but it appears that there is a kind of synthesis between the turbulent vaulted skies of Scotland and the rolling patchwork of Lazio and its neighbouring regions.

But make your own mind up and have a look at the variety of work on her website

It is always difficult to do justice to artwork on the web. The nature of Emily's technique gives the images a richness that it's not possible to replicate here

I also like her figure studies, in particular the sets of three seated women. You can see more here

I received these quotes from an American friend.

Bush 2004: "Let me put it to you this way: I earned capital in the campaign, political capital, and now I intend to spend it."

Obama 2008: "And, to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your president, too."

I received a few emails about the previous post asking whether the medication had run out and suggesting that I should go and have a nice lie down.

I gave the wrong impression about Duchamp - I have a lot of time for the artist and for his contribution. Remember that this happened at the start of the Dada movement, after WWI when the world was falling apart and the values exhibited by the cosy and comfortable world of the bourgeoisie and their art just didn't make sense any longer. That gives strength and meaning to a gesture which otherwise could just be seen as playful and empty. Duchamps contribution was wider, both as an artist and by his association and collaboration with his contemporaries, particularly Picabia and Man Ray.

So I wasn't blaming him for the current predominance of conceptualism.

I rejoice in the diversity that our culture and art is capable of providing. My safety valve goes off when I perceive this being eroded. I think we can see that happening everywhere, in the globalising uniform dreariness of Macdonalds and Starbucks, to the dumbing down of the media and of course conceptualism in art. This came home to me just by recent visits to independent galleries. Conceptualism seems to me to be the Japanese knotweed of the art world, starving everything else of oxygen and the space to grow.

But I aint going to change anything so I should just take it easy. Maybe we need another Marcel Duchamp to put a bomb under what has become the cosy comfortable bourgeois art of the 21st century

When Duchamp submitted his urinal to the New York art whatsit he committed an act of genius, He said to all those bourgeois with their nice pictures

- "you think that's art? you don't know nuthin. this is art, and it's art because I say it is, and you can't prove otherwise and in fact the very act of me saying that it is art is art itself".

Little did he think or know that he was instigating the biggest commercial phenomenon known to man. Conceptual Art - or how to make squillions of dollars out of absolutely nothing. A few big dealers and so called artists just fix it all up and con some folk with a load of money who need to buy some cultural credibility to carry around on the glitterati circuit and who don't know any better and all the VAn Goghs are sold anyway. Now these guys are in luck, because they have the market sown up. But they're greedy like all sorts of people with lots of money so they need to find the best way to make more and more quickly. Duchamp to the rescue. "We'll just take whatever we like and call it Art and sell it for lots of money - no-one cares - they just want to know the cost, and no-one can tell us it's not Art. And it's no good just taking a photograph of 1 highway intersection - we'll need 12, or 15, or a 100 and make them really big. Oh and try and make sure there are no cars or people in them, we need to try and have some kind of critical focus in case someone asks. Or how about getting 24 soup cans and filling them with sand, or maybe we'll fill one with sea shells, and, no, lets turn all the ones with sand upside down so we have a lot of little soup-castles, Campbells soup, mind you and, or maybe we could get a box and fill it with.. i don't know... hard boiled eggs and toothbrushes or something or maybe you could just empty the contents of your fridge into a plastic bag and hang it from the ceiling, whatever, anything'll do. We'll let a few critics and pundits in on it and they'll tell us why it's art and all the rich people'll want to buy it.

I've started reading Susan Sontag's "On Photography" - a bit late coming to this one I admit. No comment so far but it got me back thinking about photography and it's uneasy relationship with "art".

It also coincided with me having a look at images from Critical Mass - a sort of competition that for better or worse sets the scene for some of the trends in the Art Market when it comes to photography.

Here is one of the finalists for example.

Now to my way of thinking, irrespective of the message whatever that is, this first image could have been done equally well as a painting. The link with what I would call photography is tenuous because it is not necessary.

In this famous photo by Dorothea Lange - which is not without some controversy of it's own according to Sontag - the opposite applies. If you created this as a painting you would be laughed out of the salon, though it might find it's way onto a chocolate box.

These sort of thoughts are one way I approach some photographs, especially if I find it difficult to understand them.

I should hurry to add that this second photograph is NOT part of the Critical Mass submissions - at least I assume not.

I haven't written much recently about my plunge into LF photography. I planned to detail every little nuance, surprise and frustration that I encountered along the way. I have taken my first shots, and had them processed, and to tell the truth the drama, nuances and frustrations have been few and far between.

The mechanics of the view camera, while potentially bewildering, are not such a big thing once you've had a go at it. I don't mean making full use of all the movements etc, that will come later. I just mean putting the thing together and making some exposures. As said before there is a lot of info out there to help, and I have nothing to add. I come from a photographic background though - if you are an outright beginner the view camera might not be so easy, but I don't think so.

There is one big difference with LF photography that does bear talking about. How do you get the film "into the camera"? Approaching from a distance this was one of the things that I worried about. I'm familiar with darkroom techniques - I know what it feels like to be stuck in a cupboard with a piece of cellulose that refuses to be threaded into a spiral. But still, the loading and unloading of those precious bits of 4x5 preyed on my mind.

All I am going to say here is - it's EASY. You need a bit of discipline and a workflow, but from a dexterity/practicality point of view, it's a cinch. I'll cite Paul Butzi's website which details all you need to know and a lot of other stuff besides. The descriptions and tips might seem elaborate, but believe me, pay attention and you'll be laughing.

I think the most difficult part is finding a suitable dark place in which to do it - but this will vary depending on your circumstances. (I have a bathroom with a single velux window which is easy to blackout).

Having worried so much unnecessarily about film loading, it soon became apparent that I hadn't worried at all about film unloading. I was going to use a lab, so I had to unload and pack it in light safe conditions. I realised that I had nothing in which to pack the exposed film. I hadn't loaded everything from the boxes I purchased. No problem. Slight delay as I went to the lab and begged some old empty film boxes.

That's it then - all I need to talk about next time is pointing and shooting!

"Theatercoiffeur" is a concept to ponder, and Frankie is the only exponent I know of. I know him quite well but have never actually had my hair cut there.

To confirm his fame and status as a worldwide media celebrity, here is a short video.

Frankie B. Theatercoiffeur

I've had a few more emails recently about people being accosted or prevented taking photos in public places. The situation seems ridiculous in certain countries, and I don't see how it aids the so-called war-on-terror.

This probably doesn't cheer up any of these folks, but this is a photograph taken in Zurich airport of someone taking a photograph of aircraft. Here, at any rate, common sense still prevails. There have been a couple of stories of over-zealous and under informed private security guards trying to stop people, but in my experience I have never been questioned about my photo activities.

Maybe we need a website to highlight the situation - maybe there already is one

On my recent short trip to London, I spent an hour at the Royal Academy's current exhibition "Braque, Miro, Calder, Giacometti". I had no idea about the rationale for bringing these four together, but the names Calder and Giacometti were enough, two artists that I stumble across quite regularly and whom I have come to appreciate more and more. I had intended to go to the Francis Bacon show at Tate Modern. Although I don't favour these sort of big circus type events, Bacon is special in 20th Century painting, and one can only admire his artistic credentials when set alongside the conceptualists and the businessman-artists of the current day. There is also nostalgic appeal as I recall his Triptych in Aberdeens small but superb Art Gallery.

However, the Royal Academy it was, and I'm glad I went. I'm sure the Tate would have been a log jam and the RA is a nice, comforting institution with none of the din associated with the big shows.

I sometimes wonder why we go to large exhibitions, especially single artist ones. If we are not academic specialists, what do we expect to get from looking at such a vast arrangement of an artists work other than being able to see items which are normally in far off galleries, or indeed inaccessible. Understanding art is quite difficult - it often can't be done at one sitting even with a single painting. It is interesting of course to see the range and scope of a great artist and to compare early and late works, or different genres. But these shows often have to be taken in one huge gulp, and the result is naturally indigestion.

I rather like exhibitions which shed light on the process of artistic creation. Influences, collaborations, friendships, rivalries. Sometimes this means an exhibition supported by contemporary references. I remember seeing a big Monet show in Zurich, and while the huge water lilies left me a bit cold, I found the documentation, description and photographs of the garden at Giverny very satisfying.

When we look at art of the 19th and 20th centuries things like this predominate - they are everywhere. Whether they are famous alliances (Picasso/Braque), whether or not artists belonged to distinct movements or groups, the juxtapositions are inescapable, memorably because a lot of them are captured on film by the likes of Cartier Bresson who had access to many during the middle of the last century.

And, finally, that is what makes the RA show. There are no so-called "big hitters" here but a coherent selection that contrasts the work of these four artists and illuminates where they drew on each other. A good example is the friendship that developed between Calder and Miro. Not artistic bedfellows, but you can see how Calder went from bemusement to understanding and assimiliation - in his paintings at any rate, and to a certain degree maybe in some of the sculpture. It is interesting as well to see the two sculptors Calder and Giacometti together. Both great individualists who developed their own styles and added something genuinely new to the genre.

What links the four is their collaboration with the collector and gallerist Aimé Maeght. (The show is sub-titled "Aimé Maeght and His Artists"). This is also interesting, to follow the part played by the patron or gallery owner in all of this. I'm thinking also of the role played by todays movers and shakers - the Charles Saatchis and Steven Cohens of today. I'm not sure it is quite so benevolent, or that it will result in such an enriching legacy for the future.

Well worth a visit in my opinion if you are passing.

After deciding I was going to get started with LF photography, the next step was to decide what I needed and get my hands on it. I started form a position of almost total ignorance. As said before the reason I decided to was prompted by a project that I had in mind - I needed camera movements, I would be outdoors and probably hiking around a bit and I wanted big prints. The next question was to find out what equipment fitted the bill. The internet was invaluable here, but particularly the LF site http://www.largeformatphotography.info. In fact I think I could have arrived at all my decisions and found out all I needed using this one site alone. It is up-to-date, un-fussy and has a good forum with helpful experts.

BTW I tend not to indulge in comprehensive, in-depth research when I'm doing this sort of thing, so be aware that in what follows there are lot of things that I don't consider. My aim was to reach a quick decision about what I needed - I would be going into the field with it in less than 1 month, so I need to decide, purchase and also get familiar in a short space of time

What Format?

It looked like I had to choose between 4x5 and 10x8. 5x7 looked very tempting and there are other esoteric formats, but I wanted something that was mainstream and had a large base of experience as well as equipment and supplies that were readily available. 10x8 was ruled out by reason of portability. 5x7 because it appeared that supplies were becoming hard to come by. So 4x5 it was. I also thought that if I got hooked by 4x5 then I might also decide to get involved in 10x8.

What type of camera

I said I knew nothing. This was true. I had to discover the difference between field cameras, folding cameras, monorail cameras etc etc. This wasn't difficult. The LF website tells you all you need to know. Suffice to say that it became clear that a 4x5 folding camera or field camera was what I needed. I found out that A Adams used one. That should be OK then.....

Which model?

Luckily, it appears that the LF community are not as partisan as the 35mm Nikon/Canon crowd, or so it appears. Hence most of the advice I saw in the forums looked pretty impartial. I decided to go for something that was popular, not ultra cheap, but not expensive. I also wanted something that provided all the movements that I would need to experiment with. Many people might disagree, but the TOYO 45AX seemed to crop up again and again. Nobody was precious about it, nobody trashed it. It seemed to be well engineered. I briefly thought about a Tachihara. A bit cheaper, lighter and beautifully made (of wood). A couple of things put me off. Some people mentioned that it was a bit flimsier (although well constructed) and the knobs were a little difficult to tighten. As I would be doing work in the mountains and in winter this might be problematic. Also it was an obvious "attention getter". Knowing how much attention I get just using and old Rolleiflex this was also a consideration. I quite enjoy it, but in the time consuming and error prone medium of LF shooting, I thought this would also be a problem.

Lenses?

There is a lot of choice here and a lot of opinions. To start with I think I can manage with a "standard" 150 mm. I will probably add a wide angle (90 mm likely) once I have some experience of using the 150 mm with the subjects I have in mind. Which one? I knew I would be using movements a fair bit for architectural shots so I needed one with good coverage. Schneider or Rodenstock? I can't remember why I decided on Rodenstock, but I ended up with a 150mm APO-Sironar-S f5.6. Wide coverage, bright for focusing and no-one, well not many, had anything bad to say about it. Choice between this and the equivalent Schneider seemed to be down to personal preferences.

Other stuff?

I learned that I needed film holders, focusing loupe and various bits and pieces. I should also have acquired a dark cloth, but so far I haven't. We need to see if my trusty cagoule will be good enough. I also added a 6x12 Horseman roll film back. I reasoned that the panorama format might be something I would use, but mainly I liked the possibility of being able to experiment, bracket and change film in the field or when traveling.

All of the equipment was available for immediate delivery except the Horseman which I bought locally second hand, so within 3 days of deciding, I was unwrapping and trying to figure it all out.

In the next post in my LF series I'll probably be talking about how I coped with the first shooting.

I've known London since my first heady visits in the early 1970's and have lived and worked there several times over the years. Disillusionment started setting in the mid 1990's - poor services, high prices - and I hadn't been back for 10 years. Until Tuesday that is, when I had to pay a flying visit on business. I was prepared for the worst, and so this is the first of a couple of blog posts about my reactions.

I flew into Heathrow from Zurich on Tuesday afternoon, and decided to put things to the test by going to Richmond via public transport. Being used to the Swiss system, and remembering London Transport from previous times, I didn't have great expectations. However it actually went ok. Tube to Hounslow East, and bus to Richmond. No traffic snarl up getting into Richmond even though it was rush hour (5-6pm). Maybe the rush hour has moved.

So it seems there has been a change, and my immediate impression was that it had been achieved my a massive overdose of buses - there were hundreds of them on the roads.

Now the bad news. The tube station at Heathrow resembles some kind of obstacle course with big complicated barriers all over the place. I don't know if these are to foil terrorists or over-enthusiastic travellers with baggage trolleys. In truth they aren't a big problem but they were the first sign of what I soon realised was a very "nanny state" attitude towards the public.

The tube station was full of London Underground staff, none of whom seemed enagaged in performing anything related to helping travellers. I tried the system out by approaching one such gaggle and asking a simple stupid tourist question about platforms. I got a very dismissive reply, I was obviously distracting them from their real business, although what that was still eluded me. Then I tried to get rid of some litter (my sandwich wrappings). Couldn't find a litter bin. I asked another group. Apparently litter bins are just the sort of thing terrorists like to park the odd bomb in.

London seems to have an infatuation with announcement services and I found this irritating to a high degree. The bus to Richmond announced at every stop that it was "the H73 to Richmond" despite there being an LED display with the same info. I expect that it is useful for blind people, but all it is going to do is tell a blind person they have got on the wrong bus, and blind people never do this. Most of the blind people I have met have more awareness of which bus they are on than I do. Political correctness rearing it's ugly head. Same on the trains. The tube always had the "Mind the Gap" announcements which were tolerable because they were an anomaly. Now you are bombarded by announcements at any time the PA system has fallen silent for a few seconds. "mind the gap between the train and the platform", "be careful of the big step to the platform", "remember that there is no smoking on any trains"," do notleave your luggage unattended". Add to this the profusion of notices saying things like "Our staff have the right not to be abused or attacked", and adverts with gory tales of what happend to someone who verbally abused someone. It had never occured to me that I might want to assault or abuse a member of staff, but I was coming round to the idea. Signs telling you not to put heavy items in the luggage rack. Are all Londoners stupid with attention spans of 10 seconds? They must be starting to wonder.

I liked the sign on the Picadilly line that said something like this:

"Going to Covent Garden at the Weekend? Well I shouldn't bother if I was you. Not by tube at any rate. Gets very busy. Best to get off at one of these other stations and WALK"

OH, I should add that the train from Richmond to Waterloo in the morning was actually on time and in fact rather clean. However as someone said about somnething else - these things are a duty, NOT a virtue.

More later

My Toyo 45AX field camera and Rodenstock 150mm Apo-Sironar-S arrived a couple of days ago. Wow, such names, such resonances with greats such as A Adams etc.. What on earth am I doing buying this stuff?

There are a couple of reasons I want to get involved in large format photography.

a) Curiosity. Lets get the trivial out of the way first. I've been interested in photography for a long time, I have lots of cameras of different sorts. I like to find out what it means to use a camera of a particular type - to find out what it's characteristics are, how these influence the photographs that people make with them. Gary Winogrands Leicas, Willy Ronis Rolleiflex, Ansel Adams 4x5. This is a strange kind of ethnography and doesn't really relate to my own photography. It's a bit like wondering what it was like for Beethoven to be deaf.

b) Project. I have a project I would like to do, and it seems to me that an LF camera is the best solution. I will be doing architectural and landscape work. The images will be conceived mainly with the print in mind, and I intend to print quite large. So, detail is important. For me LF is the easiest and cheapest way to get the detail and quality I need - MF digital is way beyond my budget and I'm not sure it would even rival the tonal possibilities of LF film. Architectural subjects, and certain landscapes will need the unique possibilities given by camera movements. Only view cameras offer this type of control - film or digital.

My budget is constrained, but I could see that a new, quality field camera and a couple of lenses was actually relatively inexpensive compared with the new digital offerings. I'm comfortable with film processing and scanning, so I decided to go for it. On this blog I'll try and document this voyage of discovery, with it's inevitable challenges, and hopefully some success stories.

I stumbled across Dave Beckermans photography while looking for something completely different. In fact it was his definition of street photography that popped up out of google, and I think it is a pretty good read.

He has a very good eye for the seductive qualities of black and white images. As well as the blog he has a website showcasing his photography. The site could be presented a bit better, but the images are definitely worth the visit. Recently he has some nice examples experimenting with digital infrared.

©Dave Beckerman 2008

Dave Beckermans blog

I just read an interview given by Hilla Becher to the German Süddeutsche Zeitung Magazin and translated by Joerg Colberg on his blog

I don't want to explain who Hilla Becher is here, but the interview is interesting, and worth reading. However I'd been reading several things this morning and the following exchange caught my attention. (Please bear in mind this is taken out of context of the whole article as it appears on Joergs site)

SZ: So then he took photos?

HB: Right. He borrowed a 35mm camera and took photos, to use them for his sketches. That's how it started, photography as the means to an end.

SZ: That sounds like the mentality of a historian or someone archiving things. Did you consider yourselves as artists at all?

HB: What is an artist? Calling yourself an artist does not make you one, that's for others to decide. It doesn't make any sense to say: I am an artist!"

The interviewer brings into question what makes an artist, and gets a bit of a rebuff. This chimed in with the other things I'd been reading, or remembering.

In E H Gombrichs "The Story of Art" he disarmingly tells us at the start that there is no such thing as art, only artists. Art is what artists do... This bears thinking about. It supposes that we do not have rules against which some artifact is judged, and then considered art, or not art. And after that, art, but not good art. Thank goodness! However it supposes that we have criteria that enable us to decide who is an "artist". And whatever they do, be it the Sistine Chapel or pissing in the street is then art. On the whole, I prefer the latter.

In either case, however, there must be some kind of panel somewhere which judges. That is what Becher is alluding to when she says "That is for others to decide". But what others? The photographer Josef Koudelka is well known for his reticence - "I just take photographs - what they mean is up to others" What they mean, and whether they are "art" is subtly different, although I would like to think that art involves meaning in some way, Does he have some kind of jury in mind? I don't think so. Who then are the arbitrators in todays world - the public, the wealthy patrons, the punters/commentators/critics? There is no objective value in "art". The loudest voices or the deepest pockets decide.

Sometimes an "artist" has a view. Picasso had been elevated to this ephemeral position at the time he commented on Bonnard's paintings, something mentioned in Michael Kimmelmans "Accidental Masterpieces". He didn't rate Bonnard, his art was outdated and couldn't stand with the progressive work characterised by his own. This was bullying, from a position of power, but also an indication of fashion - that other decider in what is "art" at any given time. Bonnard is on the up, but whether he will replace his critic is still down to "others".

Today, July 22nd, is Alexander Calder's anniversary. I've mentioned him a few times while blogging, and it was pure coincidence that I discovered this morning that today is his birth date. I've come across his sculptures several times recently in Venice, Stuttgart and here in Zürich.

Stuttgart, Königstrasse

You can see the shadow of it in Google Maps

I didn't realise that he was a third generation sculptor and that his great grandfather started it all from Aberdeen, a place that has strong connections for me.

Outside Kunsthaus, Zürich

As usual, Wikipedia provides a useful starting place for references. His antecedents names are full of Scottish resonances

Alexander Milne Calder (grandfather)

Alexander Stirling Calder (father)

This all sounds a bit like "Here's tae us, whae's like us" but when you live as an expatriate it's easy to grasp at these connections

©Jarek Orlowski

I recently discovered the photography of Jarek Orlowski, from Poland. Styles and treatment are diverse, but all the subjects address the human being in some way or another. Photographs I wish I had taken.

I like the humour in this one - or is it poignancy and absurdity? I'm attracted to photographs that shift under your gaze - like these optical illusions that turn inside out the harder you look at them.

No - I haven't succumbed to godly pretensions (yet).

I don't have a TV but I listen to quite a bit of radio. On the BBC, Melvyn Bragg's "In Our Time" featured the work of the Roman historian Tacitus. Among other things it talked about the BBC TV series "I, Claudius" from the 1970's which covers much the same ground. I remember this, and how at the time laurels were heaped upon it. I remember vaguely enjoying it mostly for the amount of poisoning and bonking that went on.

I decided to go back and revisit it, now available on DVD. The production is profoundly stage-like, with the emphasis on script and acting. So far I've only watched episodes 1 and 2 but I'm already snared.

The main point I've taken from this rediscovery is the difference that hearing the broadcast has made to my understanding. People who know Grave's books and the history will be aware that the main thrust of the stories is the struggle for Rome to survive as a monarchy as opposed to a Republic. This simple fact informs much of the action of the series, and the scales fell from my eyes. Although perhaps 35 years on the bonking and poisoning don't get in the way so much.

In my opinion, although some people will find the production dated, a worthwhile diversion from the world of reality TV and cable news.

I haven't given any links - there are many, just google I, Claudius

This blog has been going for a while now - 499 days - and it has strayed from the original intention of trying to give one persons impression of Zurich via a daily dose of photography

It's time for a change. I want to concentrate more on photography, and posting a daily photo, some of which are ok, a few of which are good, many of which are banal is diluting my efforts. This blog will continue, hopefully on a daily basis, but I'm going to amalgamate it with my other efforts (which are mainly prose rantings for anyone who hasn't looked). There will still be photographs, but mainly to illustrate topics.

I'm not sure how it's going to work out - we'll have to wait and see. Now is also a good time to thank all the people who have followed and contributed over the past 16 months or so. Keep an eye on this space, and hopefully you'll still find it worth a visit.

(Here are the stats btw)

Sounds like some tacky dance band compilation, but it is in fact an exhibition of photographs collected by Mark Rich and donated to the Kunsthaus in Zurich. Opinions may be divided about Mr Rich (rich, indeed) and I don't know enough about it to comment, but I liked the opportunity to see this interesting collection.

It spans the history of photography relatively evenly up until the mid 20th Century, but in a collection of 74 images, it has to be selective. There are quite a few early examples, gum bichromate prints for example which are very interesting to study physically. I liked a very early cyanotype by Anna Atkins. The "indexical sign" quality of this type of image is striking. Like a fossil, you feel that you are looking at the actual object, transported over the years, centuries in this case. Something that can be unique also to ordinary photography.

Like the Steichen exhibition of vintage prints from earlier in the year I was struck just how dull many of them are - tonally speaking. Maybe I don't have to fret so hard about my own inkjet printing endeavours. The exceptions were, naturally, a couple of Ansel Adams prints. Like my impressions of the Edinburgh exhibition, these still seduce by their pure beauty.

The most interesting examples for me were 8 or so prints from the 1930's by Herbert Bayer. These are carefully constructed photo montages, surreal and Dali-esque, that would put many latter day Photoshop-ist to shame. I searched the web for some examples, but although Bayer is well known as a typographer I couldn't find any examples of the prints in this exhibition. The one shown here is later.

All in all an interesting survey, both from the point of view of style and technical processes

A different kind of post today. This signpost is outside a primary school in Urdorf. My guess is that the signs point to the various countries represented by the pupils - a simple but probably effective way to get a sense of integration while retaining kids pride in their origins and identity.

For me this represents the positive, and successful side of Switzerlands attitude to the many foreigners who live here. Forget the vocal and visible rantings of the SVP.

I just picked up a copy of Robert Frank's "The Americans" - reissued on the 50th anniversary of the original French edition. I tried to get hold of a copy of one of the original imprints for several years, but either they were invisible or just too expensive. So I knew the book only by reputation - I don't think I had even seen more than a handful of the images, and out of context. I want to say something about this book, but not an ordinary critical review, there are plenty of those and perhaps not too much left to say about it. However for people who aren't aware of the book, here is a kind of potted history and summary of how the important points that are usually made about it.

The book is a collection of 84 images, culled from over 20,000, that Frank shot on a two year road trip across and around the US, funded by a Guggenheim scholarship. A Swiss emigre, he had previously worked in fashion and editorial photography after coming to the US. Apparently he came to US with optimism and enthusiasm, but this withered in the face of what he saw as the sell-out to money and consumerism. "The Americans" is a wide ranging, bleak statement of this disillusionment. It was not well received. In an age of perceived prosperity and well-being after WWII, the vision didn't chime in with peoples notions of what America represented. From a photographic point of view the wonky horizons, blurred images, unconventional viewpoints and compositions were just regarded as sloppy and unacceptable, Even Walker Evan's work looks like Ansel Adams in comparison. Gradually however the book came to be regarded as a pivotal moment in photography. Frank showed people what he saw, and what he thought about what he saw. It's a very partial view, it is not objective documentary stuff. When Jack Kerouac wrote the introduction to the second, US edition, he constantly invokes poetry, and that is very telling. This book conveys the authors ideas in the same way that poetry does, and in a way that prose probably cannot. Concise, powerful - in need of contemplation and reflection.

I wondered why the book is reappearing now. Maybe just a celebration, but Frank himself was involved in the artistic production, and the presentation and recropping of some of the photos, so perhaps it is the final definitive version. The directors cut. A nice conspiracy theory would be that maybe it is time for another reappraisal of America in this fashion. Although there are enough commentators doing this, they generally try and argue the points rationally. Frank shows how to present an admittedly biased view while still retaining the power of argument. It makes people think, and doesn't make them immediately reach for words like prejudiced and one-sided, as they would do with a work of prose.

This is the new one, from Steidl.

And this was the original. Frank himself decided on the jacket design. I'm not sure how significant that is. Personally I prefer this one. It has a stark look that echoes the content.

Leaving the question of the USA aside, another reason I'm interested in the reappearance is that I believe this type of photography is as valid today as it was then. All it needs is the subject, the vision, the passion. I say this in an age when every second article about the genre seems to be concerned with "photography is dead" or "photography must find a new way of doing things". I don't agree. No-one says that poetry is dead. You just need to have something to say, a way of saying it and some genius.

There are plenty of people producing this sort of personal work of course. It just doesn't seem to hit the headlines. Ever since photography was co-opted into "Art" things have changed, and commercialism started to influence what is shown and talked about. This is maybe the way of the world, but I hope that photographers today look at the example, take heart and continue to use the camera in this way, which in my view is what makes photography unique

As a footnote, it is ironic to note that there is a Flickr group called "Photos in the style of Robert Frank". Quite apart from the fact that the idea betrays a total misapprehension of what his photography is about, it certainly informs the Zeitgeist. Especially if you read the comments, although I won't force you to do this.

I'm "on holiday" at the moment, although it's a bit of a busman's holiday hence the paucity of postings and general activity

Excuse the pseudo German. This is not so much a post, more of a thought which has struck me more than once over the last few years.

At home I have a shoebox full of family memorabilia, documents, photos, letters, etc. My sisters have even more such archive material. I spoke to a blogger friend recently and we looked at his photo records of family from the last 100+ years.

My point is, what happens now? We all have a huge amount of irreplaceable family and social documents stored on our computers or on servers around the world.

Where is that shoebox now, one that future generations can leaf through? The big institutes and concerns have a plan of course, but what about us? Anyone thought about this? Made a Will recently?

* The quote comes from Bertold Brecht /Kurt Weill - "Nanna's Lied"

"Wo sind die Tränen von gestern abend?
Wo ist die Schnee vom vergangenen Jahr?"

"Where are the tears from yesterday evening?
Where are the snows of yesteryear?"