Archive notes, artist texts and visual diary fragments
Short texts, notes and reflections from the archive, where images become memory, voice, desire, place and time.
Final hero image to be selected by artist
These notes gather fragments of memory, travel, desire, identity, masculinity, exile, photography, moving image and the self as witness. They are not explanations of the work, but companion pieces: traces left beside the images.
Final artist-approved introduction to be supplied
I did not go to Cuba to remember Israel. Cuba remembered it for me.
I noticed Rafael before I knew his name. That is how some stories begin. Not with knowledge, but with suspicion.
A photograph stops time, but it does not stop memory. The moment does not stay inside the photograph. It leaks. It changes. It waits.
Masculinity was never natural to me. It always looked rehearsed.
The photograph as memory object.
Notes on the still image.
Notes on time, voice and motion.
Performance, costume, inheritance.
Looking, longing, withholding.
Departure, return, the geography of leaving.
Travel as a way of seeing and being seen.
Glances, signals, unwritten languages.
Uniforms, training, the trained male body.
The photographed body in time.
Streets, strangers, the urban hour.
Inherited rooms and remembered light.
Notes around the artist books and catalogues.
Notes on edition, signature and care.
Voice, score and the moving-image archive.
Working notes from the studio.
Notes attached to specific projects.
I did not go to Cuba to remember Israel. Cuba remembered it for me.
Read →I noticed Rafael before I knew his name. That is how some stories begin. Not with knowledge, but with suspicion.
Read →A photograph stops time, but it does not stop memory. The moment does not stay inside the photograph. It leaks. It changes. It waits.
Read →Masculinity was never natural to me. It always looked rehearsed.
Read →I have spent much of my life standing behind the white line. The first time, I was a boy. The second time, I was already a man.
Read →The river arrived first as sound. I did not see it at once. We were riding in darkness. Rafael was behind me on the horse, holding the reins from both sides of my body.
Read →The camera entered my life through another man's grief.
Read →I do not want the viewer to understand too quickly. Understanding can close the image. I prefer suspicion.
Read →A short letter from a city of strangers.
Read →Notes on the sound that accompanies the moving-image archive.
Read →On the book as the most intimate form of exhibition.
Read →Short notes on edition number, signature and the care of fine art prints.
Read →Visual diary fragments from the night city.
Read →On the geography of leaving and the act of return.
Read →On the self as witness to its own archive.
Read →Working notes on masculinity, militarism and desire from the Cuba archive.
Notes on landscape, biography and remembered self.
Diaristic notes on daily life and intimacy.
Notes on photographing the briefly met.
Notes on windows and the interior weather.
Letters in image form from Paris.
Autobiographical archive notes.
Notes on the moving-image assemblage.
Notes from the diaristic project.
Notes on voice and score.
Notes on works in progress.
Notes on the worn face and the hidden self.
On the encountered face and the photographed portrait.
On uniformed bodies and trained gesture.
On the brief presence of others.
On hotel rooms, studios and inherited interiors.
On political and bodily borders.
On rivers, seas and the act of crossing.
On urban time and the choreography of strangers.
On the photographed body.
On tenderness, briefness and reaching.
On withheld sound and held breath.
On inherited rooms and remembered light.
On leaving and the residue of place.
On the return of images out of order.
On the self as observer of its own archive.
A space for future film voice-over fragments, moving-image notes, spoken texts and sound-related writing.
Short voice-over texts written for the moving-image archive.
Working notes for film and video projects.
Notes on sound, score and silence.
Short travel notes written alongside the visual diaries.
Notes on the threshold between still and moving image.
Fragments and openings of unfinished scripts.