Feature Q&A
 
A CONVERSATION WITH JULIE FISHKIN
 
Photography is a challenging medium. Capturing the seemingly perfect image is such a mechanical process that as long as the subject at hand translates into something visually engaging, the work can rest on its laurels. However, when exploring the potential of the medium, the different techniques, and the historical inventions that existed for capturing a still image before the advent of modern day photography, the viewer becomes engaged with a whole new set of coded imagery and visual exploration. Emma Weislander's work explores scenes through a Black Mirror or the Claude Glass, a 17th century tool used to detach the image from its physical scene as a means of capturing it through painting or in this case, photography. She also explores the impending permanence of the sun, its debilitating and powerful effects on the mind and the photographic lens. The result is a stunning, if stark, journey into the intense potential of nature and its infinite capabilities of light and vision.

Your images of the sun are really powerful, almost blinding. There's something really intriguing and even tragic about the sun. Did you have the Icarus myth in mind at all?
I did not have the Icarus myth in mind when making the work. I had as a starting point and inspiration a much more scientific approach. Though, what I was interested in was whether it was possible to photograph the sun and then enlarge the image in order to see more of it than I could with my bare eyes. This way, attempting to come closer to -- for both eyes and camera -- the potentially damaging strong light. The images are printed large (110cm x 110cm) making possible a close look at the sun. But, since the way the image is processed as it is cropped, enlarged and then printed, the shape of the sun, as printed, starts to dissolve. When looking at the images closely the outline is almost impossible to see, while when moving further away the shape of the sun becomes apparent. Perhaps the desire, attraction and impossibility that is embedded in the Looking at the Sun series is a similar one that Icarus experienced.

Does mystical thought or mythology enter your work?
Not in a direct way.

I often think about the notion of a "brainless sun," because while the sun is so attractive and seemingly wonderful -- think the California beach and perfect sunsets -- it does something to your brain to render it ineffective. Is this ever a consideration when you're literally staring at the sun?
The sunset is overwhelmingly beautiful. It’s very hard to move beyond that beauty. When making works about the sunset this was the hardest part but also the reason why I became interested in the subject.

Is your work a conceptual exploration of the meaning of a certain specific moment or is natural landscape more the crux of the image?
Landscape, but not necessarily natural landscapes. Moments, in the sense of an exploration of certain ideas and certain points in history. It’s all tied together. I’m interested in how ideas about landscape have shaped our understanding of what we see. Ideas mediate what is seen in front of us.

Are your Claude Glass photographs photos of the rendered image through the Claude Glass or Black Mirror?
The photographs are of the reflection of the landscape in the black mirror. The black mirror is first positioned in the landscape so that it reflects an image where the different elements in the landscape all make up a good composition. Then the photograph is taken. When looking at the photographs it gives the impression of a direct look into the landscape, but the photographs are reflections and therefore an inverted look at the landscape.

What initially drew you to that work? Do you find the deliberate "romanticising" of nature a reduction of its poignancy?
When reading accounts written by users of the black mirror I became fascinated by the conviction of the black mirror as the way of looking at landscape. Some for example went blindfolded into the landscape to only view it as a reflection and some fell over trying to walk while admiring the landscape in their mirror. The descriptions are very dramatic and I was curious to see if that would be my experience to. It’s interesting because it’s actually rather hard to compose an image in the mirror at the same time as trying to not see yourself. Also, you are in a landscape full of smells, colours and sounds trying to concentrate on this quite small reflection. The reality of making the images was very different from those ideas.

I had seen images painted using a black mirror but since photography was not invented at the time there were no depictions of how the reflection actually looked. At the time, landscapes were depicted and admired for their picturesque qualities and this was very important when making the photographs. I was interested in if I could compose picturesque images, in the black mirror, in the same landscape as was then used and admired for the same reason. The black mirror is a tool used for its reductive qualities. Since the black mirror produces a reflection that is a framed, darkened and close to monotone version of the landscape you are in, the landscape somehow becomes easier to comprehend. Although the landscape nowadays still has got the picturesque qualities our idea of it as something to view in this way and for these reasons are not still the same. I’m wondering if it is actually possible to look at a landscape solely for its beauty without bringing to mind the fragility of the environment. Sometimes I think the Black Mirror images look like something of the past. So, regarding your question, my answer would be no as I think the “romanticising” here works the other way around.

I try to relate nature imagery to a Henry David Thoreau's self-reliant contemplation from "Walden," using the visual result of an inspired photograph as an extension of the serene permanence within the scene mimicked by the permanence of the captured image. Tell me if this sounds crazy.
What you are saying resonates with what was said about the black mirror at the time when it was used. Then, some users of the black mirror expressed a sort of photographic desire to arrest the changing reflection in the mirror. They longed for an image-reflection, which they could take home without it disappearing from the surface of the glass. The nature was thought of as ever present but the experience of it was limited to the actual place. There was a desire to arrest and capture, those certain moments when, for example, the light was particularly spectacular, in order to prolong the experience of it.

I love the dark element of your Black Mirror photographs. Do you think any other rendition would be too easy since the landscape itself is so obviously beautiful?
It all started as an experiment and I did not know what images I would end up with. I was interested in ideas they had at the time and wanted to follow the same way of thinking and using the black mirror. The images have to be dark since that is the way the black mirror works. Is it an excuse to make beautiful images? At one point I felt uneasy about the beauty. It’s interesting, what is so uncomfortable with a beautiful image?

There has to be a reason behind the rendition to not become purely a visual effect. I’m sure there are other ways of rendering the image but with a different reason behind.

How did you find the specific geographic locations as your subjects? Do you think you are, in effect, turning the captured image into almost a sculptural piece, through the way it's created and subsequently displayed?
The images are from The Lake District in northern England. The area is known for its picturesque beauty and it was the first place to have guidebooks written about it and proper tours arranged. I went to what were at the at the time, as well as now, recommended places in order to see the best views.

The Black Mirror images are mounted behind glass leaning on a shelf made of walnut. I wanted to slightly bring back the works to the actual object, the black mirror. It’s just a way of displaying an image. But, it’s very interesting how such a slight change in display somehow transforms the image into an object.

Also, as I mentioned earlier, it’s very hard to achieve an image in the mirror without seeing yourself. You inevitably become part of the view somehow. Since the images are so dark, you, as the viewer become part of the displayed image through your own reflection.

Does the place of the landscape or the sun where you happen to capture it play a vital role in your projects?
Yes and no. When I took the photographs that I used for the Looking at the Sun images I deliberately changed location between every frame. Where, geographically, these places are is not of importance but it was, at the time when I took the photographs, important that they are all from different places. Almost like I photographed different sides of the sun. I found it comical that my relatively small movements on the earth would make a difference at all, considering the result of the image.

 
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