ground magazine #7
A proper laboratory
Ground Magazine #7
Ground Magazine is proud to present ‘A Proper Laboratory’ – A presentation of work from the 2010 graduates of the Gerrit Rietveld Academy photography department, Amsterdam. We asked these graduates to show their works and provide personal notes and quotations. The submissions contain personal written pieces, drawings, sentences and simply, words. Some chose not to offer anything further, and allow their work to speak for itself. As a guide, an accompanying T is Title, and Q is Quotation. On behalf of everyone at Ground Magazine, thank you for reading and enjoy the show!
Editor in Chief, Mieke Woestenburg
Content
Foreword
2
Thekla Ahrens Fleur van Dodewaard Katarina Hruskova Anne Huijnen Anna de Jong Suzanne Posthumus Iris Pouw Hrair Sarkissian Liam Tickner Nadine Watson Isabelle Wenzel
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Graduation catalogue 2010
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8 12 16 20 24 28 32 36 40 46
Foreword The rooms on the second storey are deserted. The doors are locked. The interior is sparse. It is virtually impossible to tell that they serve as a space for discussion among aspiring photographers and their teachers. You have to know, otherwise you might wonder why there are no gas valves, fume hoods, or other apparatus that constitute a proper laboratory. The glass shelves of the showcase incorporated in the doorway are empty. The linoleum floor is unstained, the black table tops are bare. The place is devoid of plants. The only thing to break the order is the blinds. Slightly slanted, they occasionally bump against a window that wasn’t properly shut. The lock turns with a rattling of the keys. One might expect a numbered piece of wood for a keyring, or perhaps a little soccer ball or some jigsaw animal, but no—this one looks like an embroidered patch that came off a bomber jacket, giving the silent corridor a vague connotation of a military wing, a ward maybe—except there are no bunks, no weapons caches, no privates. They must have all gone to war. The walls on the sides give way to more curious rooms. A note is stuck to one of the glass doors: Do not open this door! Do not even think about it! At a touch, the note flutters to the floor and into the corner. You pay no heed to the warning and step through the door. The blinds in the room are shut; it is unbearably hot. The only light in the room comes from a beamer; it projects a logo onto a white plane on the wall. The pixelated letters in the corner of the screen spell no signal. The only thing left of interest are the cupboards. All you find is stacked boxes filled with slides. Scribbled on the side with felt tip pen is Graduates of ’84. You hold a slide to the light. It is a remarkably clear portrait of an artist as a young man—a shame they don’t make that kind of film anymore. It seems impossible to imagine what the person in the picture might look like today. It feels awkward, the portrayed of the present being completely oblivious of being watched in the past. He probably wouldn’t remember the photograph being taken in the first place. 2
Would he have managed to become a successful artist? Judging from the next slide, no. It depicts a horribly dated painting, the kind that Pollock would have been making over and over again, had he survived the car crash. But then again, why would today’s art be any better? Across the hallway is another door; the bunch of keys opens it. Inside is pitch black. Failing to find a light switch, you grope your way across, stumbling over some hollow metal poles that roll away with the impact. The light switch you find seems ancient: instead of igniting the tubes, it lifts the black window screens that keep out the sun. The room offers a vista over some wealthy-looking part of the city. Better than the other side—the cemetery isn’t exactly the most optimistic outlook. The poles responsible for your bruised shins turn out to be lamp posts, scattered around the room like bumper cars. If there are lights, there must be cameras, too. But there are none. The lockers lining the walls are barred, none can be unlocked. The tripods remain headless. In the middle of the sunlit space, several tables have been wheeled together, surrounded by a clutter of chairs. A picture is lying face-down on the table. Turning it over, it depicts a lens, an old-fashioned manual fixed-focus lens that was used as an ash tray. A substantial amount of cigarettes has been extinguished on the coated glass. Puzzled, you put the print back the way it was and walk out of the room, down the stairs, through the hall, and across the yard where a taxi is waiting for you. “Go,” you tell the driver. “Where to?” “Just drive. I don’t ever have to return to this place.”
Nickel van Duijvenboden, teacher photography department
Thekla Ahrens T
Der Raum des Buches
Q
Er schloss das Notizbuch. Er hatte genug geschrieben. Der Aschenbecher neben ihm war voller Zigarettenstummel und abgebrannter Streichhölzer. Seine letzte Zigarette hing erloschen in seinem Mundwinkel und er sehnte sich nach einer starken Tasse Kaffee. Er schaute sich um. Er saß zwischen Stapeln von Büchern, die er alle noch einräumen musste. »Morgen«, dachte er, »für heute habe ich genug getan.«
www.theklahrens.de invisiblechaos@gmx.net 4
Fleur van Dodewaard T
Nude Studies, 2010
Q
www.fleurvandodewaard.com postvoorfleur@yahoo.co.uk
8
Katarina Hruskova T
Virgin Hair
Q
www.katarinahruskova.com pearmeat@gmail.com
12
Anne Huijnen T
“i wonder what Sophia Loren would say”
Q
www.annehuijnen.com annehuijnen@gmail.com 16
Anna de Jong T
solitary man
Q
www.annehuijnen.com annehuijnen@gmail.com 20
Suzanne Posthumus
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Iris Pouw Doorgang
T
Silde installation, selection of slides
Corner in-out 1 serie of 3 photographs in the book ‘Spread’
The answered question installation, installation shot
Q
“Geen vader om tegen aan te hangen als je al bijna in slaap valt, geen vertrouwde stem die je beschermt tegen alle boze dingen.”
www.irispouw.com irispouw@gmail.com 28
Hrair Sarkissian T
construction
Q
hrairsark@gmail.com
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Liam Tickner T
My first collector Lightboxes
Q
Perry Filippeos will foresee the artistic future of the graduating art students
www.liamtickner.com lamse@web.de liamtickner@hotmail.com 36
Nadine Watson T
Royston
Q
www.nadinewatson.net info@nadinewatson.net 40
Isabelle Wenzel T
YOU CAN`T STOP ME NOW
Q
www.isabelle-wenzel.com isabelle-wenzel@gmx.de 46
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Graduation catalogue 2010
This publication accompanies the exhibition of the final exams of the photography department at the Gerrit Rietveld Academy in Amsterdam, 2010. The contributors researched the space of the ‘double page’ to understand the possibillities and impossibillities of the concept of 2 pages facing each other. ©Photography: Thekla Ahrens, Fleur van Dodewaard, Katarina Hruskova, Anne Huijnen, Anna de Jong, Suzanne Posthumus, Iris Pouw, Hrair Sarkissian, Liam Tickner, Nadine Watson, Isabelle Wenzel Concept and editing: Paul Kooiker, Johannes Schwartz Concept and graphic design: Willem van Zoetendaal Printing: Calff & Meischke, Amsterdam Binding: Hexspoor, Amsterdam isbn/ean: 978 90 9025518 7 www.33spreads.com
Colophon
GROUNDMAGAZINE #7 2010 Editor in chief & creative director Mieke Woestenburg Contributing graphic design Susanne Keilhack / shosho.nl Special thanks to Johannes Schwartz Sid Cocain Shosho Contributors Nickel van Duijvenboden/ text Thekla Ahrens Fleur van Dodewaard Katarina Hruskova Anne Huijnen Anna de Jong Suzanne Posthumus Iris Pouw Hrair Sarkissian Liam Tickner Nadine Watson Isabelle Wenzel Published by Mieke Woestenburg Amsterdam www.groundmagazine.org