Picking up where I left off, the ever-expanding circular walks resume and with them, the looking down – at where the feet place themselves. The eye hunts for matter with which to be informed. Late summer, early autumn and so the desiccated leaves of intensifying palor, the wetness, mud and an infinite palette of concretes lay themselves at my feet to disect and preserve; my eye dissects rapidly, the phone camera’s eye preserves instantly.
As always, the game is to capture raw, completely at first shot, no further editing allowed. Only digital exposure settings offer adjustments of tone, saturation, hue.
With this group there is a fascination with concrete. It’s worth expounding upon. After conversation during one warm afternoon walk, an initial confusion between concrete and cement was dispelled (sidewalks, wrongly called cement; wrongly named too the rolling, lumbering cement mixers that occasionally made their ways down the narrow Brooklyn streets of my childhood). My colleague, printmaker and sculptor Lynn Newcomb sometimes works in concrete (see her Ancient Wanderings here), learning from Hungarian masters of that material like Ferenc Csurgai. Reinforced with newly found knowledge of how concrete is an aggregate of pebbles, chips, mineral fragments all bound up by various processes in a paste of Portland cement, I scrutinize the tablets upon which I walk, marveling at the variability of texture, color and materials presented in each square.
So, in these newest photos leaves, organic residue and occasional inorganic detritus (by now all old friends on the street) play and converse with the concrete beds upon which they lie. This offers a new narrative to enjoy visually and ponder upon.
Below are a selection of twenty-eight photographs. Click on any photo for a sequential viewing of larger images: