Gregory Crewdson’s dark, atmospheric, cinematic photographs capture perfect frozen moments incorporating disconnected figures which seem to reflect the domestic and natural landscapes they inhabit; the mundane landscapes are often characterised by an eerie solitude and transformed into something otherworldy, haunting, and compelling. His photographs seem to both reveal and conceal
These photographs are part of the Uncanny series. I’ve felt an urge to make things historically dark and more abstract- having something to do with Duane Michals, Francesca Woodman and the photo-novel of La Jetée, and more strongly with a long inner conflict about whether colour sometimes takes away from the
York Castle Museum period rooms and Victorian aesthetic: I. Reconstruction of a Victorian parlour, re-imagining the life of a middle class family residing in the York suburbs of the 19th century. II. 19th century Moorland Cottage: the living room of a rural cottage. III. 1700s Dining room book IV. Victorian
Liverpool cathedral can be found at the intersection between reality and a noir sci-fi dystopia.
I gather tokens of death in appearance fragile- with thorns hidden underneath. A hand reaches out… Blood lingers on thin skin. Petals burn, Smoke intoxicates: you breathe it in. Funeral words carved in marble skin- paralysed, you listen blindly as they inhale life.
The pleasure of feeling beams of light piercing through tired, stained windows and caressing the air impregnated by particles of dust. The pleasure of being inside, away from the unbearable, threatening sunlight. Expressionistic shapes are formed on old grey walls holding Pre-Raphaelite portraits of mythical women. A shuttering of a