{"id":2,"date":"2020-08-09T21:14:18","date_gmt":"2020-08-09T19:14:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/christophspeiser.com\/wordpress\/?page_id=2"},"modified":"2025-05-25T15:21:23","modified_gmt":"2025-05-25T13:21:23","slug":"christoph-speiser","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/christophspeiser.com\/","title":{"rendered":"CHRISTOPH SPEISER"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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CHRISTOPH SPEISER<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

ABOUT<\/a>
PROGRESS<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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catharsis, 2025<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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This work in progress is cameraless yet analog and coming from a 13×18 handmade negative.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It consists of an increasing number of individual analog black and white prints of different sizes (from 2x1m to 18x24cm) <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The paper is corean Hanji and the emulsion was handcoated by myself. \/<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Metaphysics of a landscape (There is fire on the horizon, and there is no more grey)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The vibrant shine of contrasting opposites drew my attention to what seemed to be a middle tone, a neutral place to rest my eyes – then it became clear. There are no middle tones. Just finer spreads of black dots allowing the illusion of some grey.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So i enlarged further, 10 times 15 times 25 times.. And it all fell apart, with the eyes no longer connecting the dots even the initial idea faded away – the idea of fire, a horizon, a landscape. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I found myself inbetween black dots – in the void. No such thing! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

What i found, with each enlargement more and more obvious.. Fiber, long threads of fiber, connecting, weaving together every millimeter of my field of view, looking at the paper, touching this handmade paper from Hanji, chopped down by a real person in south korea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anachronistic in a digital world?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This series of work could be a personal starting point for the physical deconstruction of an imaginary landscape, while the rise of oppositions and duality define our virtual and solid realities more and more.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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hommage \u00e0 mon p\u00e8re..<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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„la serviette de mon p\u00e8re
my father\u2018s towel“
pentaptych, 2024
silver gelatin prints (13x18cm)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201emy father was a very gentle man. and he had his habits, his ways.
as long as i can remember, his towel was in the same place, always proper and soft, always on the left side.
and it\u2018s been quite a long time that i had taken pictures in their bathroom, maybe because of the beautiful light coming through the old faceted window.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

in his late years, when there was a towel on the right hook, next to his, it was either my mother\u2018s or mine or another sibling\u2018s towel when we stayed at the house.
when i came to spend a few days i would always remember him saying \u201ei am on the left..\u201c, while i unpacked my toothbrush, cream and shaver.
a few years ago when i came from paris to visit my parents, i remember one day there was this particular reflection. it was so beautiful – beams of light coming through the bathroom window, lighting up his towel and the tiles in a way i had never seen before. so i made a few photographs.
later that same year an aneurysm right next to his heart broke and he barely survived.
he had never been the same after that and he soon required intensive nursing care.
his towel was gone, he would never use this bathroom again, laying in his bed on the upper floor, being washed by my mother or the nurse, like a child.
my father died last year and when i come back to the house now, to visit mother from time to time, i still hang my towel on the right hook. i guess we all do.\u201c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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„Nightwalk“, silver gelatin print, 2024, 40x50cm<\/p>\n\n\n\n

from a new series „poetry is made at the edge of running water“<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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