Confused disoriented lonely
Confused disoriented lonely
CONCEPT Photographs series taken in London during Central Saint Martins photography course with professor Brendan Olley. The relationship between photography and the past is one of immense interconnectivity. The photograph says “This happened” or “This existed at some-point in time”. The photograph thus becomes an art object of proof that something has gone before. Most of the artists have imagined new worlds, utopian or civil societies. I choose to look at Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s philosophy in relationship to what I see today. The 2nd part of “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” was my starting point and then I tried to translate confusion, disorientation and loneliness from poetry to photography.
La y l i k e a l we a r y And t h e d e a d fee
and m my h e a r t a s
l oad o n m y y eye , d we re a t m y et.
made dr y a s d u s t.
o n e, al o n e , a ll , a l l a l o n nd ne ve r a sa in t to o k pi
ne, al on e o n a w i de w i d ity on m y so u l i n a g o n y
A lo ne , a lo ne , a ll, a ll a lo ne , a lo n e o n a wide wide se a ! A nd ne ve r a s a int to o k pit y o n my so ul in a g o n y.
ever a prayer had gusht, d whisper came, and made hear t as dr y as dust.
my l ids, and kept them close, he balls like pulses beat; ky and the sea, and the sea and the sky e a lo ad on my wear y eye, he dead were at my feet.
weat melted from their limbs, rot nor reek did they: with which they looked on me d never passed away.
I looked to Heaven, and tried But or ever a prayer had gu A wicked whisper came, and my hear t as dr y as dust
I closed my lid s, and kept them And the balls like pulses b For the sky and the sea, and and the sky La y like a load on my wear y And the dead were at my f
The cold sweat melted from the Nor rot nor reek did the The look with which they looke
Day after day, day a We stuck, nor breath As idle as a painted Upon a painted ocea Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor moti As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
And now the storm-blast came, and he was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us
Water, water, every where, A
Water, water, every wher
And all the boards did shrink;
re, Nor any drop to drink.
August 2013 London, UK Print on September 2013 Milan, IT
Alice Pesenti photography course with Brendan Olley