Picked up a book at the bargain basement at Readings tonight called Beach by a British photographer called Mike Perry. Powerful understated direct glances at a stretch of non-descript British coastline, some stones, shingles, small waves, the pull of wind on the surface.
Nothing startling here, just the simplicity of the ordinary landscape. The photographs are understated, soft in tone, plain, without human or animal figures, without narrative.
Yet, I found something powerful and moving in this plain-ness, this un-averted gaze, in the currents of light and dark. Something like poetry in the avoidance of narrative, in the captured moment, in the sense that this was both a real beach and a metaphor and somehow important.
And it made me think (again) of the power of the photographic image as well as its linke to poetry and poems.
powered by performancing firefox