When we talk about a photograph, an interesting question arises: Where, exactly, is it?
The reason for this query is simple, as the medium of photography is, for most intents and purposes, infinitely reproducible. We seem to be firmly programmed to value scarcity, and much of the value of art comes from perceived authenticity, so where do the inherent replication possibilities of the format fit in to the picture? Since long before the writing of Walter Benjamin, it is essentially an issue ignored; slap a limited edition on a print run and increase the value. The artist keeps the source material and the audience gets the approved copy, along with the solemn promise: no more.
Apparition of a Distance is a limited edition of landscape photographs, i.e. each image in the series is printed nine times (edition of 8 + AP). However, instead of creating nine exact copies, each iteration is produced with a different method and is therefor unique. What’s more, the source material(s) are often irreversibly manipulated during the production, rendering them unusable for further reproduction and leaving only the impressions made underway as a result. This might look final for the source material, but in our current technological state there is always a possibility for reproduction. Copies from copies from copies, if an image exists, it can re-exist. We quickly lose sight of the idea of original within a few iterations.
The current options for impressing images are breathtakingly expansive, perhaps, once could say, as wide as a landscape photograph. A few options include duplicate film copies, scans, digital & analog print copies, cloud hosting, copy work, social media, and even ones of dubious photographic heritage, such as storytelling, drawing and raw data. Perhaps not surprisingly, after this (at times exhausting) technological mumbo jumbo, there is little space for a discussion about the actual content of the images. We surely all know what a landscape artwork is for?
Innocuous and mild mannered to most, there is also significant critical study which considers landscapes one of the greatest of trojan horses in art history, a tool used by dominant powers to sneak everything from religious reform to imperialism into the world, often under the guise of neutrality. Any field can be a battle field.
And so that is the proposal. Replacing the long lived lie of photographic neutrality and authenticity, the trojan horse and the reproductive chaos of images are the new pillars of this project. The creation, destruction and partition of these pictures is the true driver of value and authenticity, and it remains up to the viewer to see if they can find where the photograph is.