I don’t usually say much on the Monday Morning Photo Blog. I try to let the images speak for themselves. But earlier this evening Chris of Zeke’s Gallery hit me with a question that caused me to update this week’s post. Check it out… there’s even a new (second) photo!
Ziboy, aka Wen Ling, aka 基本信息, is a photo blogger in Beijing who posts “street photography” from that city. He hasn’t updated since June 9, when he posted a series from what appears to be the gatherings around Tiananmen Square on the 15th anniversary of that dark event of June 1989.
At a casual glance, Ziboy’s photos might look like simple snapshots, and in a sense they are. He could certainly be said to engage the “snapshot aesthetic,” in which the image is rendered bluntly and purely as documentary without “conscious artistry” (think Nan Goldin, Robert Frank, Gary Winogrand, etc.). Without conscious artistry, the success of such images usually depends on the subject, and how it is “captured.”
Goldin succeeded by taking us voyeuristically into her world of booze and drugs and urban haze. Frank showed us his gritty back-door view of America in the 1940s. In these and other cases it is the unposed and unpoised nature of the subjects, and their straightforward, unembellished representation, that allows the work to transcend the mundane.
I’m not ready to fully compare Ziboy with those masters, but there is undoubtedly something special about his work. He shows us the everyday world of a late-20s Bejingite — a world we might otherwise barely imagine. Yes, the exotic nature of the Chinese capital is a big part of the allure of his work. Would we be as compelled to look if he were transplanted to New Jersey or Perth or Toronto? Probably not.
But that isn’t a strike against him. Revealing partially hidden worlds is a big part of the street photographer’s mandate.
However, one of the things that makes Ziboy’s images so special is his way of presenting images in pairs (and sometimes trios). Two images, photographed within seconds of each other, may at first seem redundant — as if he were unwilling to edit. However, as we see more and more such pairs a strange thing happens. We find ourselves at an odd intersection of still photography and cinema.
Whereas one of the defining characteristics of photography is its way of freezing a moment in time, and one of the defining characteristics of cinema is the capturing of a sequence of time, Ziboy presents the first and last frame of a brief sequence, which causes our imaginations to fill in the middle.
As a result, we get the frozen, contemplative still image of photography, and the motion and sequence of cinema. It’s a brilliant mix that he treats with a light touch.
So where is he? His message board has been active, but all of the messages are locked. A Google news search on Ziboy comes up empty. Is he merely on hiatus? Taking a break? Fell in love?
Update: As of July 1, Ziboy is posting again…
There’s been a weird but subtle shift. Something has changed. Our world today is a little bit different from what it has been…
No, this has nothing to do with yesterday’s federal election — I’m talking about the fact that I put a sports photo on the Monday Morning Photo Blog! Ewwwww!
If that isn’t weird enough, here comes some poetry. Relax, it’s sandwich poetry!
roasted red peppers
on a fresh crusty bun.
A while back I posted about my revulsion for canned fish (tuna notwithstanding) and how I’d like to get over it — at least when it comes to the finer varieties. A few lines from the Nigel Slater book Real Fast Food had me wishing I had the stomach for it.
Martine responded by stuffing my Christmas stocking with a few cans of
high quality haute gamme Euro-fishy things. They sat uneaten all these months because I have a vision of the proper — or at least most appetizing — way to eat such a thing, and it does not involve dark wintery nights (unless you introduce ice-cold vodka).
Rather, I imaged a warm Saturday afternoon in the countryside, a fresh baguette, a few fresh and simple garnishes, and a chilled bottle of rosé. On this holiday long-weekend we came close enough (the suburbs, not the countryside; and sparkling apple juice, not rosé; but at least it was sunny and warm and for once there was no one in the neighbourhood running a lawn mower).
We began with some leftover soup from the previous night. It was a cold cucumber and yogurt soup from a recipe that Martine had found in one of the Moosewood cookbooks. The recipe version had lacked a certain pizzazz, however, so she livened it up with some red onions and hot sauce. The result was a delicious devil’s concoction of the cool and the hot, the modest and the brazen.
Then we moved on to the tiny can of Crème de sardines, aromatisée au whiskey (from France don’t you know). I prepared it as I had imagined — on a fresh and crusty baguette, with just a touch of mayonnaise, a toss of red onion, and a sprinkle of ciboulette. I was a bit put off at first, as the fish was the exact texture, color, and consistency as Spiff’s cat food.
Fortunately the aroma — and presumably the flavour — were different (Spiff’s food — a high-end hypo-allergenic variety — is a blend of duck, pheasant, and brown rice). Indeed, the Crème de sardines was rather delicious in that very grown-up, highly civilized sort of way.
Which reminds me — I must go to the SAQ and stock up on rosé!