Alchemical Silver
Solo exhibition, Space Studio and Gallery, Whanganui, 22nd November –5th December, 2014
Midonz, with the gold of the sun, the leaf of the poplar
by the light of the amber
Midonz, daughter of the sun, shaft of the tree,
silver of the leaf,
light of the yellow of the amber,
Midonz, gift of the God, gift of the light,
gift of the amber of the sun
Give light to the metal
From The Alchemist: Chant for the Transmutation of Metals,
Ezra Pound
by the light of the amber
Midonz, daughter of the sun, shaft of the tree,
silver of the leaf,
light of the yellow of the amber,
Midonz, gift of the God, gift of the light,
gift of the amber of the sun
Give light to the metal
From The Alchemist: Chant for the Transmutation of Metals,
Ezra Pound
To the alchemist, everything in nature is related. It is a holistic world view whereby everything becomes part of, and has an effect on the Work.
Both photography and alchemy have been described at one time or another as bastard children of art and science, their transformative properties failing to fit neatly into either discipline. Photography is an act of natural magic, and silver has a special place in its heart.
The photographs are serendipitous affairs made by zone plate film cameras of simple construction. They are their own masters and speak with their own voices. I hope that they convey something of the aura of a place, that they can keep a secret whilst indicating that there is one.
I have stolen small plants for transmutation. They come from the places where the photographs were made. Casting spells, casting shadows. Echoes of those fixed by alchemical silver.
On a good day anything can be magical.
Both photography and alchemy have been described at one time or another as bastard children of art and science, their transformative properties failing to fit neatly into either discipline. Photography is an act of natural magic, and silver has a special place in its heart.
The photographs are serendipitous affairs made by zone plate film cameras of simple construction. They are their own masters and speak with their own voices. I hope that they convey something of the aura of a place, that they can keep a secret whilst indicating that there is one.
I have stolen small plants for transmutation. They come from the places where the photographs were made. Casting spells, casting shadows. Echoes of those fixed by alchemical silver.
On a good day anything can be magical.
