| Ding |
Radmila Iva Janković on series Ding by Marko ErcegovićIn one of the probably most beautiful essays on photography (Photography - an art in hiding) Gerry Badger lets us feel that the discouraging situation in which the medium of so called: „silent photography“ is placed, is perhaps not as dark, as is sometimes prophesized. The time of great discoveries, both formal and theme-wise is behind us, and the time which is coming brings a certain, not especially innovative, but again so eagerly recognizable search for the etymology of closeness, out of some new suggestively articulated individual perspective. If we accept that there is a group in the medium of photography of so called: „silent“photographers, those who avoid the funny tricks with technique and framing, grandiose themes and provoking a style through glaring mediations between the reality and the scene; preferring to swim against the current, it's probably easy to draw the conclusion that Marko Ercegović is one of them. The position which he chooses is a careless view of "passing through", a view through which he inconspicuously and lacking body movement (bending, approaching, etc) records the reality around him. The poetics of his video works is hardly different, rather some parts could be thought of as a statement, like the Carousel (2006) in which he, by detaching from the camera and renouncing control of the frame, completely succeeded in his desire for non-mediation, for absence of his and any view which would disturb the natural order of things.
When we look at each photograph individually, without thinking about the next one, perhaps we will not immediately understand what they have in common. From the formal side, we notice the domination of the wide frame, keeping spatial distance from the motif, some small "events" which are the only ones completely focused, and which usually fluctuate around the middle of the frame. Sometimes is not clear what they represent at all, and sometimes, when drawn by the detail you realize what it is, you probably wonder - why? Why for instance, the painting brush in somebody’s hand on the car window, why concentrate on the cloud above the group of tourists? Or what are those hands doing above the architecture of the great monument? Nobody will truly try to figure out the answer, neither the photographer who sets the scene, nor us who are watching it. The gaze usually slides along the surface of things, showing the world composed of fragments and short lived moments, which are destined for quick disappearance. The feeling of closeness is something which is rarely experienced, and therefore, the detachment which the photographer keeps in relation to the motif, cannot be excluded from the interpretative horizon. However, each scene in this cycle contains a sign which reminds of human presence, of existing micro worlds which we know are there, although we can’t quite get to close to them, decipher them. In these distant views we feel the well known anxiety of lack of communication. The world is here, but out of reach. |