It's shrimp Jesus time!
Welcome to the 116th edition of this Mailing List!
With each email I'm sharing material that has inspired me recently. I'm hoping it will inspire you, too. If you want to support my work, you can sign up for my Patreon. This will get you access to exclusive material every week.
If Patreon is not your thing but you enjoy what I'm doing, feel free to send me a little something via Paypal. I'll use the funds to pay for the fee the service provider of this Mailing List charges me every month. If there's money left, I'll invest it into the Japanese green tea that fuels much of my creative work.
Did you notice how I finally changed the wording of the header? It doesn't say "newsletter" any longer. Because whatever these emails are, there's mostly no news.
This time, I have a few longer essays to share, so let's get started with those right away.
As you might know, my new work was photographed in Hungary. There's supposed to be a photobook, provided I can scrape together the funds. I don't think that you necessarily have to know all the details of what's going on in that country (they're grim). But if you're curious, this long essay talks about Hungary and its neofascist ruler, Viktor Orbán (who, btw, looks like Jabba the Hutt. Once you realize that, you can't unsee it.). It was written from a US perspective, but that doesn't make it any less interesting.
Many photographers and critics don't understand what exactly designers do. As a consequence, there is a lot of resentment, especially once Dutch design enters the conversation. I find this very unfortunate.
Maybe it helps thinking about the role of design outside of the context of the photobook, but sticking with books. Here is Debbie Berne, a designer, writing about how and why the design of a book matters:
Design and editorial concerns are, in the best situations, partners. Spinning around the dance floor, totally entwined. Manuscripts live in author’s minds and on their computers, but books exist out in the world. No one wants to read your Word doc no matter how beautifully written it is. A book is not a book until it is designed to be a book.
It's just the same with photobooks. And yet, people will continue to complain about "overdesigned" photobooks. It's true, some are. But most aren't -- it's just that you either don't understand design, or you're merely conservative. Being conservative is fine, of course. But please don't pretend it's the designer's fault that you don't like a book.
Also, there is all that talk about the photographer's vision being made to disappear by designers or publishers. I don't even know where that's coming from. It's so bizarre: as if photographers somehow were the masters, and nobody else could possibly make their vision come to life.
In all my years of teaching, the one thing I've learned is that photographers are mostly really bad at getting the actual vision of their work shown -- because they're too close to it. As a photographer, you need the help of people who can see your work for what it is and who might occasionally call out your bullshit.
Back to the very serious topics. How does one deal with one's own complicity in all the various things that go so horribly wrong these days? Isaac Butler wrote a very thoughtful, must-read article about it.
By now you might have heard of shrimp Jesus. Or maybe you have not, because unlike me you don't spend too much time online. So who or what is shrimp Jesus and why is that interesting? This article got you covered. Enjoy!
I'll have to say those shrimp Jesus pictures were the first AI pictures that made me laugh.
Takuma Nakahira was one of the members of the short-lived Provoke collective. Currently, there's an exhibition of his work at the National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo, and I'm really sad that I will not be able to visit. It looks incredible (just look at the install shots!).
Ivan Vartanian conducted an interview with the curator, Rei Masuda, which is absolutely worth your time. The pictures are a bit small, but you can find larger versions at the museum's website.
Lastly, I have a question for you. It has to do with photobook reviews. For the most part, book reviews happen along the following lines. A publisher or photographer reaches out and offers a book for review. Often, such requests don't make any effort to hide the fact that they really want free PR. I know that that comes with the territory. I've published books, I know that you need PR. Still, it would be nice not to be considered as a means to an end (free PR).
Depending on whether I think the book might be interesting and on whether I think I can write about it, I agree or decline. Days or weeks later, a book arrives in the mail.
The problem is that I personally also feel that there's an obligation. Someone sends me a book, so I should not be too critical. I mostly have that problem under control.
But to be honest, it is a problem. I don't like the feeling, even if I would love to think that I manage to be professional and honest in my reviews.
The other day, I was thinking that there might be a way around this. What if someone else stepped in? What if instead of publishers or photographers, someone else offered a book for review?
Let's say, you know of this book, and you'd really like to see a review. Obviously, I'm not independently wealthy, so I'm unable to buy every book. I'm also unwilling, because I already spend hours of my time on writing these reviews. I really only buy the books that I want to own (and the review then is an afterthought).
So the person suggesting the book -- which I could still turn down, given that it might not be for me -- would have to send me a copy (or have it sent to me, but the sender can't be the publisher or photographer).
This idea might be interesting, because it solves the problem of me feeling obliged. Of course, I do feel obliged to my readers. But that's not a problem -- on the contrary: that drives me.
Readers suggesting books also would de-skew the whole process where the loudest or most powerful voices get their books reviewed.
What do you think about this idea? Feel free to let me know!
And that's it for today. Now you know about shrimp Jesus, which might or might not have made your life a tad better.
As always thank you for reading!
-- Jörg