When I think about the passage of time, the process of time, I have to think about Aristotle. Maybe Heraclitus. And the fact that we live in the here and now. Here we pause for a moment in the ephemeral. And invite you on a journey into summer.
All pics ©by Zenvampires
We have already shown the first part of Piotr Millati’s phenomenal photos here. But there is more. And we didn’t want to withhold them.
There is some disturbing ambiguity in the fascination with which we are drawn to images depicting decay, ruin, and destruction. All the more so when they concern human life, set in and marked by such scenery. A similar consternation is caused by the fact that one of the constantly recurring themes of photography or painting is humanity crippled by the destructive passage of time, affected by some shameful frailty or repulsive ugliness. The photographer’s lens seeks their opposite pole as much as beauty and beauty.
I found this kind of photographic beauty in southern Italy.
For northern Italians, three-million-year-old Naples is the epitome of provincialism and disdainful exoticism. The plebeian temperament of the Neapolitans, their irritating dialect, poorly understood by Italians themselves, the pervasive chaos and disorder that are an integral part of life here, the incurable poverty and crime, are something completely foreign to residents of even the perfectly Europeanized Milan.
In yet another way, the quintessential periphery is Palermo, from which it is closer in a straight line to Tunis than to Rome. It is here, almost in the very center, that you will find La Kalsa – a slum neighborhood bombed during World War II and still not rebuilt, devoid of sanitation, which was marked on city plans as a white spot without streets or buildings.
My photographs depict the people living there in their typical situations, in which both the dreariness and melancholy of their existence and its almost epic colorfulness are revealed.
Some entities can, when we look at them, communicate with us. They tell us more than we see with eyes. Like the surface or color. They communicate with us. They can let us feel a rhythm. And the rhythm comes before the music. Creating music today, we mostly create a good rhythm before we create music. Some anthropologists say (I’m not sure if Levy – Strauss said it), that ancient cultures, mostly shaman cultures, used all the same rhythm. Rhythm can let us dance and the dance can let us forget. But rhythm is not only important for music. It’s also important for writing. Homer used it as well as Shakespeare. And even if a writer doesn´t use it (like Bursa in his poems), he worked with it. Because when we break the rhythm, the audience can feel it. The entity then has nothing to say. Or it says that it´s broken. Husserl spent hours to find out, what an entity can tell us.
When we use rhythm in paintings, it may be possible to dance. In the rhythm. Thorsten’s paintings have that rhythm. When we look at them, we can feel it. As I said describing his previous exhibition (here), we can feel the music in his pictures. And then maybe we can dance to the music. Try it. Just look and dance.
Thorsten is a painter and DJ from Hamburg, Germany. He is inspired by funk, dub, Hip-Hop, and what we know as Black Music. But also by writers like Paul Auster and Toni Morrison. And also by street art, by Outsider art (in Germany known as Art Brut), and also by the Cobra Group.
We are proud to present a second exhibition by Thorsten Raab.
All pieces ©by Thorsten Raab. Photo edition by Zenvampires.
We don´t sell Thorstens paintings. We only show them.
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©Zenvampires 2022