From Gui Marcondes I Know I Exist Because You Imagine Me
…By having our monthly meetings, the artist, who may work a day job or run a family, is encouraged to return to work to provide progress notes. There is no strike against them if they cannot bring something new every month as we are all adults and are treated as such, but the artists in the course that are driven to see progress in their work return monthly and with a high level of motivation. I would say that all our physical workshop tier participants return with something every month and that the mentorship model participants are also above average in their return of progress. As the Zoom model does not require monthly mediums, that module is more about lectures and tuning in when one can. Our course is designed in such a way to inform but also to function as a constant motivator for the artist. As an instructor, I do not believe in negative reinforcement, tough love, or telling someone that their ideas are insufficient or that their projects do not warrant making a book. There have been many questions over the past decade of photobook making in which enthusiasts from the more extended medium of photography persistently explain, “this is not a book,” or my least favorite, “there are simply too many books being produced” as if they were the Marie Kando of the photobook field busily (ironic) reducing the clutter of the field for a more peaceful and idealized standard of homogeneity through their judgment.
From Gui Marcondes I Know I Exist Because You Imagine Me
Gui’s work reminds me of William Klein and Daido Moriyama, and Eikoh Hosoe’s books that include theater groups, particularly the Butoh studies by Hosoe. You can see this in several of the images in which Gui has visited avant-garde theater performances in New York; one spread showcasing two individuals, one set as a marionette and the other a falling and flailing puppet. The close angle of the lens is very familiar to Japanese Street theater images from William Klein onward. This theater is further replicated in an orgiastic image of a group pile-on in which a man, beard like Jesus, is toppled with a woman reminding one of Salome in nothing but running shoes. The painterly expression in this image reminds one similarly of the theater images of Max Waldman from the 70s and perhaps the grotesquery favored by America’s lost artist William Mortensen. The first port of call remains Moriyama’s A Photo Theater from 1968.
From Gui Marcondes I Know I Exist Because You Imagine Me
Gui Marcondes