Exile to the Twilight
Photography is the only breakthrough that consoles me from the disturbing automation of meaning. Attempting to avoid this, we witness a latent monotony in the labyrinth of this project. Although photography is fundamentally referring to reality, I am reluctant to give it in through the vision I am equipped with to look at the world and use my camera to show it; despite the fact that what is named real is constantly disguising, so abrupt and creditless. This project is putting efforts on reflecting the existence of the objects, lost in an obsolete garden and are going to gradually vanish. Nothing is left behind except a couple touches of those who do not exist anymore. The absent man. He is totally absent in these shots. To Martin Heidegger, chewing over existence occurs in Dasein (the core of individuals’ consciousness and existence); nonetheless, there is no possibility for me to visualize these objects and locations without the presence of human beings. His invisibility surely proves his presence. It is likely the only possible way to prove his survival. Evaporating from the allies, cities and annoying noises, the icons haunt man. This requiem for a conquerable and sole man belongs to the modern era of unbelief. Friedrich Holderlin: “The lonely man in the age of Gods’ tribulations”.
Alireza Mirzaee, Apr. 2011
After the End
Every object stops functioning, is doomed either way: it is transformed to something futile or rubbish or becomes poetically significant. We are surrounded by electrical poles which connect wires and make telecommunicating possible. This leads them to act invisible and become banale; the actual essence of Pragmatism and Functionalism. It also removes the function of “things”, like words being devastated by meanings in routine language. Electrical poles do not work without wires though. They can both present deficit and castration. With eliminating function and attaining dependency, they turn into autonomous objects and reveal a total brand new meaning. (At this very point, a poetic order does not connect to elegant elements, it instead gets benefit from coarse and rough objects like electrical poles. So what is this brand new meaning? Facing cemented sillouettes and humpy wireless poles, you feel like they are absolutely lost looking for new identity. Sometimes in a poor situation and some other time with a threating pose. What meaning truely haunts these objects in our minds? Disconnecting the wires, do they intend to display a situation after the catasrophe? or warning us against the ghastly Real Order? Or stimulating our pity looking at them
alirezamirzaee 2012