“… I don’t believe in photography as art or a job or anything. I think of photography as a language and I think a language should be used to speak, to say what you have to say. So the only things I have to say about my life and what I know about the world, is the way I see it. So, it’s not about photography … I think people should just use photography to say things and not just photography for the sake of photography … the world is full of talented photographers. The problem is just so many of them just don’t know what to say, they think life is one thing and photography is another but they don’t realise that photography is just a way to reflect what you are.”
FEAR, DESIRE, DRUGS, AND FUCKING
PHOTOGRAPHER ANTOINE D’AGATA LIVES A LIFE LESS ORDINARY
By Alex Sturrock, Antoine D’Agata
Original Link: http://www.vice.com/read/fear-desire-drugs-fucking-608-v17n11
The only type of connection I have to the tradition of reportage is coming up with the most efficient ways to deny, denounce or destroy its prejudice. Beyond humanistic pretence, reportage always conveys twisted or insidious values. Its economic survival has always been dependent on logical means to perpetuate the efficiency and the profitability of a system controlled by the elite for their own benefit. And one has to remember that no photography can pretend to show the truth. A picture only shows a given situation under a very specific perspective, consciously or not, openly or not, relevantly or not. Photographers have to accept they can just convey fragments of illusory realities and relate their own intimate experience of the world. In this process of fictionalising an unreachable truth, it’s up to them to impose their doubts about any photographic truth, or accept being impotent pawns in the mediatic game.
I do think of photography as a perfectly legitimate artistic language, but I believe it is underused or misused most of the time. The world is not made out of what we see but from what we do. Photographers who ignore this state of things—and today, as in the past, most of them do—reduce photography to its capacity for recording reality. They don’t take responsibility for their position while looking at the world and end up assuming voyeuristic, sociological or aesthetic stands. Contrary to writing or painting, you have to confront reality while photographing. The only decent way to do it is to make the best out of your own existence. From a moral point of view, you have to invent your own life, against fear and ignorance, and through the action. Intelligence and beauty don’t compensate for passivity. The only way to keep one’s dignity is to confront human condition and social context through direct action. It is a difficult balance one has to keep between the creation of situations to go through and the development of a narrative technique to share one’s perspective. In this process, life overcomes art at some point, and art perverts life. By deliberately living in this constant tension, I expect to go through existence without having to give up lucidity or experience.
The few photographers who, like Nan Goldin, have influenced me as I was trying to get accustomed to the history of the medium, have struggled to throw back some of the rawness of the world into photography. This language is often reduced to its capacity to be somehow neutral. What Nan Goldin has taught me is to stand up, against all odds, in a political and existential struggle for survival. I don’t feel close to her because of some similar experience of marginal communities, or some alleged obsession with sex and drugs, but because she never gave up. She never hesitated to compromise her health or sanity for the sake of her work and I am just grateful to her for her courage and stubbornness, for staying faithful to her own pain, fear and desire.
You’ve talked before about photography as a language—do you ever feel trapped by the way in which you have communicated in the past, or do you enjoy having a unique voice?
I am not sure I’ll ever have the strength to make myself understood in a clear and coherent way. I came late to photography as a desperate attempt to stay alive, and I don’t have the discipline or energy to always make sense in the way I try to communicate my understanding of things. My books are careless and full of flaws, my images are messy and my writing is awkward. But all these are just tools, not quite assimilated yet, in an absolutely determined search, that allows no concession or compromise. It is difficult to be as excessive as I am in my work and be completely efficient. Every book, every exhibition, every assignment is just one more small compromise I have to accept. Mistakes are my only possible way, but my route is my own.
Nan once said to me that everyone always says to her how dark your work is, but she thinks it looks like you are having a great time.
I guess reality is never as dark as the way I used to depict it, but I can’t ignore the feelings that overwhelm me when I go through the horror of the world. Meanwhile, I leave out of my pictures the most dramatic and sordid elements, the appalling conditions of living faced by most of my characters. I try to express, in the most precise and arbitrary way, the indefinable and unbearable beauty of keeping alive, physically, mentally and emotionally, for those who don’t own anything but their own bodies and sell them to survive.
Most of my photographic strategies are aimed at reaching the highest levels of pleasure or unconsciousness and, in this sense, sex and drugs are highly enjoyable working methods. Part of my recent work could be easily described as some chaotic and biased sociology of ecstasy. I live my life with people who use pleasure as a way to impose their existence and identity in a world that denies them every right. But pleasure can’t be separated from pain and alienation. Pleasure is still a dark territory to me and I am exhausted exploring its limits. It’s just a route. Satisfaction isn’t the aim. Feeling might be the point. I’m hooked on adrenaline.
I have read you talk about “innocent images”. Do you see your own images as innocent?
My images are innocent because they are accidental. I’ve used every possible method I’ve been able to come up with to give up control. I’ll use whatever I can put my hand on—alcohol, drugs, rage, sex or fear—to push my own limits and make sure the final image is not an illustration or a statement. This doesn’t mean I won’t be a maniac when it comes to building the coherence of the work later. Each image is to some degree independent from my will. Each one is more a product of my nervous system than of my brain. And in the world we live in, I see this type of innocence as subversive in the contemporary struggle between the obscene forces of abstraction, of moral, of religion and the mechanics of the flesh. The instinct against the mind, the ultimate strength of those whose only way to emancipate themselves from physical deprivation, is orgy.
I think when Nan was really high she saw and photographed the world very differently. Do you think that your work is shaped in a similar way?So being high actively helps in creating that innocence?
Through the tension released in narcotic drunkenness, through these bare moments of high emotional fragility, I can explore a sense of annihilation born out of it that I couldn’t reach otherwise. I said drugs allow me not to think too much. They give me the raw energy to break all barriers, and to go beyond acceptable limits. They open a perspective on new possible strategies. As far as I am concerned, I’m done with fighting inhibition through excessive consumption of alcohol. But there’s a new generation of synthetic drugs which allow you to destroy yourself while, on the way, damaging the efficiency and sanity of the system. While fucking and getting high, I reduce myself to a state that is a weird mix of flesh, emptiness and panic. A bare state of being, a most innocent way to experience the world that is essential before trying to make sense out of it.
Like Nan, I do what I can to create my own route. Like her, I don’t like the idea of looking at the world and I speak about my experiences. It is occasionally acceptable to be a viewer, a spectator, but I use drugs because they make me act and react differently. Drugs can’t be reduced to some mystical way to open a perception of reality. I value the hardest and most physical drugs, which alter and intensify the confrontation to reality. Not the ones which allow you to escape to some fuzzy, comfortable or exotic state of mind. It all comes down to not being a consumer but to take the risk of your own destiny. To consume drugs the way you would consume a TV reality show wouldn’t help. Drugs help me to feel, with my nerves and my stomach, where real life takes place. I don’t know what real life is but I can’t bear feeling anesthetised any more. I try every day to dig out the raw forces of instinct. In modern society, pleasure is the only norm. Everything is done to eradicate all traces of desire, rage, violence, pain, fear and all types of animal drive. Through drugs, through excess, I try to fall back to these essential levels of uncontrolled emotion.
As far as your own work goes, what purpose do you feel it serves? Did you have an aim in mind when you set out to work in Cambodia, for example?
I wasn’t looking for any kind of exotic context for any specific perversion. But I had the sense of a place where barriers are few and I knew I would encounter more of those people who are victims of global social violence and find, in their own despair, the strength to invent new ways to survive. In Cambodia, this happens through the use of new generations of cheap street drugs related to methamphetamine. I grew tired of the idea of transgression. But I tend to give a chance to immorality, the way it’s been traditionally defined. Life is an impasse, and we have to make the best out of it. But I have my limits, due to my own cultural background. I don’t have that many but they are not flexible. I don’t make a moral issue out of it. It’s just a matter of desire and integrity. To be on the side of innocence has always been at the heart of each one of my moves. I stick to this. It is not an ideology. It’s an intimate philosophy, born out of experience and pain. I have been accused by some anonymous voices on the internet of many things. They are cowardly and insidious attacks. I know where I stand and don’t feel I have to justify myself. As far as what others do with their lives, I don’t judge but react to what I see and feel with my eyes, my heart and my brain.
What do you make of criticism of your work on the grounds that you are exploitative?
As for most photographers, it is essential to me to deserve the trust of people I get close to. But unlike them, my ambition is to abolish any kind of political, emotional or physical distance with my subject. This process can only happen if you constantly show respect, love and compassion. My work quickly became even more of an autobiographical journal. This was my very personal way to step away from the traditional documentary photography methods, which I find very frustrating and hypocritical. There’s a part of cowardice in the usual position of documentary photography in between voyeurism and safety. This is where exploitation lies. The last few years, I have been experimenting with new working methods, slowly abandoning the position behind the camera to enter the image itself, as a character within my own images. That’s the only legitimate position. Photography is the only artistic language that has to be elaborate in the very same time that the experience it relates is taking place. I just use photography in the most coherent way, while experimenting with the world in the most intense way, trying to be responsible for my actions and acknowledging the existence and feelings of the persons I photograph.
Your images are very intense and sometimes feel violent. Does that reflect the relationships you have with some of the people in them?The story “Cambodian Ice Triangle” reflects some familiar aspects of your work: drugs, women and at times extremely unsettling images. To what extent is your work premeditated? Or is it more something that develops?
The only strategy I can come up with is to follow people all the way in their excessive way of life. I never know where I am headed to but using photography, the way I use it, allows me to escape from the lethargic world that surrounds us. I am the actor of a scenario I develop in a very conscious manner. Self-destruction can be premeditated. More and more, I rely on other people to do the actual shooting, while keeping control, as much as possible, of the light, the perspective, the position of the camera, the angle of the lens towards the subject, the shutter speed. Of course, I lose some kind of control in this process but it allows me to stay, in an absolute way, something other than a mere spectator. The essential in the nature of the situation I provoke is the tension that is released beyond my control. My own personal strategy to go through the violence of the world isn’t to avoid it but to go for it, and not to hurt anybody but myself on the way.
The violence of the communities I submerge myself into is proportional and adapted to the violence of the economic and political elite. Any weapon will do. I see sex, drugs and criminality as perfectly legitimate ways to stay alive when you are treated as a non-accountable entity. To share time with my characters in the most authentic way, I need to go beyond sympathy or empathy. I don’t want to understand the people I photograph. I want to be with them, but inside them. I don’t want to look at the pain, but feel the pain. Solidarity has to go through the flesh. Words and thoughts are not worth much. They just help to identify the nature of the gap between the other and myself. The common experience of sex and drugs helps me to fill the gap. Prostitutes and drug addicts resist economic oppression and social alienation with their own body and destiny. Violence is part of that process; it’s part of that world. Most people I meet in the margins of the cities had no choice and adapted to the conditions of life imposed upon them.
As far as I am concerned it’s been a more conscious process in my case, but in the end we share the same position in the world. I learned to accept better the legitimate and scandalous nature of ecstasy or violence. I learned to endure the pain: physically, nervously, and emotionally. I do everything I can to make sure I keep being vulnerable. I do everything I can to make sure fear never overcomes desire, and desire never overcomes compassion.
I’ve had no home for years. I have the same nomadic habits I had all my life. I don’t see my personal odyssey as a coming back to any mythical home. Movement towards the void, fear of the unknown and the instinct of survival define human existence. I try to live up and survive to my convictions, mistakes and doubts.
Antoine d’Agata was born in Marseille in 1961. In 1990 he undertook a photography course at the ICP in New York alongside Nan Goldin and Larry Clark, he then interned within the Editorial Department of Magnum in New York. In 1998 his first book, of many, was published entitled De Mala Muerte. In 2001 he received the highly acclaimed Niépce prize, later in 2004 he joined Magnum Photos and shot his first short film Ventre du Monde. He now lives and works in Paris.
Arja Hyytiainen met Antoine in Paris for this exclusive interview:
A month earlier I met Antoine d’Agata in Arles, setting up an appointment later on in Paris for an interview… a microphone on the floor… Antoine is speaking about travelling and the many places he lived in during the 80s”
I could see that my friends got really involved and I was myself dealing drugs, heroin…so it was like I had to leave in order not to get really deep down.
What made you go to the ICP, (International Center of Photography) in NYC?
to introduce control into my life without changing it. So, I could tell you in detail the story why, but it is not so important… basically a friend of mine was a photographer and he died, so I took over, kind of … he taught me. We made a trip to Mexico, it was his last trip and I started to think of photography as the way in which to record and keep in touch with life. It was a strange experience. These stupid rolls I took with him were the pictures I showed to get into the ICP.
The ICP is a respected school and is also quite expensive…
I think she liked the idea of having somebody who didn’t know how to expose film, how to develop film but who knew other things, who had ten years of experimentation.
Larry Clark and Nan Goldin. Did you know about Larry Clark before?
Did they leave any traces of their own style in your photography?
Did Nan Goldin encourage you?
In 1995 you joined Bruno Le Dantec in Chiapas.
Bruno wrote that you came to Chiapas to find yourself again,
to look for another impulse.
Bruno wrote that you came to Chiapas to find yourself again,
to look for another impulse.
So did you find the camera as the… No the trip in Chiapas was awful. I loved the Zapatista movement. Photographically it was very very bad but I guess I was just starting to think again about photography, so I didn’t get any pictures out of this trip. I was just starting to think about it again.
Did New York change your perception of photography, if you compare it to the time
when you followed your friend and the time after the ICP?
What is it that keeps drawing you back to the night?
What are the questions there?
What would you like to say?
alcohol the same as without?
Do you believe that there is a subjective language in photography? Is it possible to communicate from a person to an outer world with photography as a subjective document? Do you communicate through your images?
Do you believe that there is another photographic language to come? Provoke ’68 in Japan, Daido Moriyama and Europe now. Is there another philosophy to come, which will break the tendencies and schools such as Düsseldorf, Yale, etc.?
What is Photography?
“Photography is something that
gives shape to all my desires. And it is a fossil of time and light.
I gave many definitions of photography in the past. I have a lot of feelings for it, but at this stage, photography is that.
And from the days when I was in my twenties until today – I’m in my sixties now -, photography has always been that same thing…”Daido Moriyama interviewed by Antoine d’Agata
“…Photography is first of all born from an egoistic environment. Envy, possession, jealousy are the most important human emotions because they come from inevitable real life…” –Daido Moriyama
The academic world, critics, certain schools where you have
names and writers, how does this world look like in the future?
Why does concept exist?
Timeless photography; when does the picture become timeless?
“I try to establish a state of nomadic worlds, partial and personal, systematic and instinctual, of physical spaces and emotions where I am fully an actor. I avoid defining beforehand, what I am about to photograph. The shots are taken randomly, according to chance meetings and circumstances. The choices made, considering all the possibilities, are subconscious. But the obsessions remain constant: the streets, fear, obscurity, and the sexual act…. Not to mention perhaps, in the end, the simple desire to exist.”-Antoine D’agata
@ Antoine d’Agata, Courtesy Magnum Photos and International Center of Photography
Raphael Shammaa – How do you feel discussing your work and being asked a lot of personal questions? You must have known from the start that, due to the nature of your images, people would be curious about a lot of things.
Antoine – No, mine is an entirely solitary pursuit as most of my time is being spent on the road, on the streets and in hotel rooms in anonymous cities. I invest whatever energy I have left into a perpetual and hopeless search for ever new experiences and encounters.And while the camera is always present, I try to give up technical and aesthetic control of it and focus on existential considerations at hand. At the moment of shooting, I put it all out of my mind, focusing as much as I can on the physical experience.For instance, I worked for years with the Nicephore Niepce Museum in France and kept mailing unprocessed rolls of film to them. They ended up processing, digitizing and archiving some 1,600 rolls and contact sheets – none of which I was getting to see except once a year. There is a real obstinacy, a necessity for me to just forget, and even deny, the existence of the photographic dimension just to emphasize the experiential aspect of the pursuit.The important point to focus on though, is the photographer’s intimate relationship to the world, his stance and involvement in the situations he documents – on the physical, political, moral and aesthetics levels. By his active participation in whichever circumstance he evolves in, the photographer takes personal responsibility and then makes his responsibility total. Instead of the subject’s, it is the the photographer’s movements, perspective and experience that are being depicted in any given picture.
Raphael – Why bother with photography at all then?
@ Antoine d’Agata, Courtesy Magnum Photos and International Center of Photography
Antoine – Exactly. They find themselves where they are because they have been denied, stripped of everything. Not there out of choice. And when someone is left with nothing that’s what they must exist from. They find ways to exist, no matter how unpalatable, unacceptable, cruel, immoral or brutal. And it is in that particular context, after these people have been stripped bare and humiliated that I detect dignity in its purest form – when their own naked flesh is the only remaining asset, when surviving boils down to fulfilling the most desperate of desires, when nothing is left to lose and when, through the intensities of lust and crime humanity can finally be regained.In the everyday world, a world which affords comforts, encourages fear and supports silence, lies, hypocrisy, cynicism and laziness, people protect themselves to the point of numbness,ending up lifeless.Photography affords me access to the world of darkness where it is possible for me to feel and exist, where other people also exist – albeit under tragic circumstances, in pain and in adversity, but where they nevertheless do exist, sharing their own brand of love, of solidarity and compassion.But in that other, polite daylight world, all I find is lies and indifference.
Antoine – Francis Bacon said something to the effect that his work was not about violence but about our horror in the face of it.My images are charged with the full range of what we can feel, understand, experience, which is more emotional, more abstract and existential than violence itself. In the course of my life I have witnessed people having intercourse with animals, people dying, people shedding tears mixed with blood … none of that is in my work. All I show is desire and fear, both of which are part of tasting life to its last, provided one has the fortitude for it.Desire and fear go hand-in-hand. Desire without fear is about unchecked consumerism, about unbridled pleasure seeking and constant thirsting for gratification. Fear without desire, on the other hand, stands for power – political, economic, and for comfort, tied to our fear of existing, of being, our fear of rebelling against established values.Desire and fear working together pave the way to understanding one’s limits and to learn how to opt in favor of desire. It’s about linking enjoyment to thought. I don’t, therefore have any reason to renounce either desire nor fear.
I want to keep on walking the streets of large cities at night, moving towards whatever or whoever is moving towards me, and fear is critical to this process, and so is desire. I want to exist, to gorge myself – I do not want to give up any of it.
Antoine – To get photography back to its true purpose. Photography has been reduced to a state of shallowness and emptiness, of pettiness I would say, resulting from practices focused on discovering new formal aspects and inventing personal and original ways to look at reality – culminating in works that are trivial, useless, futile – new versions of reality, sort of.My object then is to get photography back to requiring true commitment, to being a language that is unique by its potential subtlety and rawness … a language resulting from personal experience, the product of situations the author finds himself in; so that photography is not a way to look at the world, but a way to live the world, to take position, to be of the world, in such a way that everything stands for something – distance, movement … so that photography is an entirely physically related art, purely existential, anchored in reality…which is what I strive to explain and push for. It is that characteristic, unique to photography – to the exclusion of all other forms of art, which connects it to life itself, makes it a tangible presence. The photographer is then accountable not for his images, but for his acts.That’s what I’ve done with my work by making sure I enter the image, by being present within the image physically as well as through my actions … my actions and my images becoming inextricably fused, which is something that runs counter to everything that’s been done in photography from its very early beginnings.Photography has been shackled by rules governing style, composition, lighting …
@ Antoine d’Agata, Courtesy Magnum Photos and International Center of Photography
As these young men were dying from the effects of sex and drugs, a compulsive frenzy fueled by the extreme lifestyle of the street arose among survivors to keep living, to keep existing, driving us deeper and deeper into extreme behaviors, into more and more sex, more and more drugs. We needed to feel alive.
And I desperately strive to exist, even today, and fight; because, for me, there is no choice other than going on feeling, going on surviving the economic brutality of the world and feeding my own fears and desires … My present strategy is identical to what it was thirty years ago, I am sorry to say – meaning, I still cling to living a solitary life.
In the course of your life you have seen any number of things and people destroyed. What has endured throughout? What do you consider to be real, true? What cannot and will never be destroyed?
These smashed, shipwrecked destinies, humanity destroyed … these men and women crushed under the weight and violence of the economic machinery … of course bodies have been destroyed and names forgotten … still, what remains is the majesty of such destinies.
Earlier we talked about destitute people who rise to the level of their destitution and live their lives as full humans …
Antoine – Yes. Dignity is about dealing with destiny at its own level, without answers, without escape routes, all the while accepting the inherent violence and the greatness of it all. This dignity is the by-product of our limitations and ignorance, both properly ours.I am an atheist and believe in nothing outside of dust. All else and, yes, art – in its accepted forms, is a mind invention, a play with mirrors, while my own photography – or rather the experience related to it, remains indestructible and true.My book Anticorps – along with my determination to destroy trivial art, restores art to its legitimate purpose. My images portray live experiences of pain or pleasure, real sweat, actual sperm and real blood.Women whose still images were shown last night at ICP having sex are in fact enjoying orgasm – while dying from AIDS because they, their condition and their desperate financial situation are denied recognition. And that’s what it’s really about – not about fussing over a photographic image’s controlled blur or grain size.
@ Antoine d’Agata, Courtesy Magnum Photos and International Center of Photography
Antoine d’Agata presented his work at ICP as part of their Lecture Series on February 5, 2014.
By Doug RickardIt would seem that Antoine D’Agata is an empty shell walking, a living thing yes, a tortured adventuring heartbeat, yes… perhaps a sort of hybrid man-beast animal behind glass… one that seeks, that follows its urges and never finds satisfaction. The taste for more is potent, the drive inside is ongoing, he keeps going to find more. The vice appears to own him, the urge appearing to torment him, but fullness never comes, only flavored food, feeding him for a moment and then quickly the taste fades… the empty always wins. At times, he thinks that he has found something to satisfy for good and then once it is in the mouth, it quickly becomes nothing… just ashes evaporating memory.And just what does this empty, driven, prostitute fueled-livin evaporating taste look like? If you step into an inferno, if you willingly give up the foundations and step off the cliff, into the vortex… if you seek something that will never satisfy, if you f-k to spite love, if you feed your demons and spin without control, when you have nothing to fill you up… when you live inside of the drug, what does that look like? From outside in, from inside out, twist together the inside and make it the out… morph the empty into something palpable, mix in the shell of the man… the flesh of the used… wrap it in a cloak of love-lessness and self inflicted psychological wounds… give your inferno the fuel that it needs to keep burning you alive, to keep sucking you in… then step back and look at the page. This is Antoine and his beautiful photographs.
Look at the muck, at the tar… at the black, at the ash, at the junk in his head… I think that I can see inside of his mind, but I can’t… I can only see the evidence, I can only see the art. I can see the mind as a print, as a pixel. Does the work reflect the man? Does the man reflect the work? Does the man serve as a symbol for the work or does the work serve as a symbol for the man? Who is leading who? Who tells the truth, who is the liar? Either way, it is beautiful. The art… some ticket to ride, in the hands of a man like Antoine, beauty cannot help but come.Is it a pit of pain or is it bliss? In this darkness of a man who has embraced his urges, who chooses the “wrong” path, in a man that has given himself over to his drives and let himself go, can he find peace? Beauty has somehow come, a beauty from the black, power in the putrid, flesh as a flower, perhaps even a dead little flower still seeking the light – not yet gone, but decaying.As human beings, we can relish in the gift that is art. Oh how we can treasure this ability to enjoy the pit of the empty or the apparent joy of a temporarily fulfilled heart.
ANTOINE D’AGATA | A CONVERSATION WITH THE PROVOCATIVE SOCIAL DOCUMENTARIAN
Original Post: http://flaunt.com/fob/110/antoine-d%E2%80%99agata-conversation-provocative-social-documentarian
ON THE ROAD WITH ANTOINE D’AGATA
Few words from David Alan harvey
Most of you seem to like the conversations I have with editors, curators, and photographers. Bill Hunt was our last conversation still up and Jim Estrin from the New York Times Lens Blog will be next. Following will be Susan Meiselas as curator/photographer and champion of the Magnum Foundation supporting photographers with serious projects no matter how affiliated. There will be surprise conversations along the way. As now.
Now I am literally on the road with Antoine D’Agata with whom, in the moment above depicted, am sharing both beer and vodka in our Motel 6 in Bismarck , North Dakota. We are part of Magnum’s Looking For America project. To be a major exhibition and book. Some of our colleagues at this very moment are in Rochester , New York doing Postcards From America which is a project within the larger America project. postcardsfromamerica.tumblr.com Yes, I am confused too. But no worries. Trust me, it will all come down in a good way and with our best work all coming together in print and on the wall.
So Antoine and I are headed for a story called (by me) BIG MEN LOOK FOR BIG OIL….In about an hour we will get into our lumbering camper van and head for a town with a lot of rich people who have no place to live. Hence the camper. Williston , N Dakota struck oil. The wild wild west. A bunch of men making a lot of money and sleeping in their cars. Williston was not ready for this boom boom boom.
My story will be sort of an interview with Antoine , who flew from Paris yesterday, and my own pictures from Williston. Or not. We joked last night , towards the end of a bottle of Grey Goose , how funny it would be if we never got out of this Motel 6. Did the story , a story, of a motel on the highway. However, I think we will move on. Curiosity.
Panos Skoulidas, from Burn comment section fame, and who started with Alec Soth and Jim Goldberg and Susan Meiselas on the original Postcards project which started in San Antonio is driving the van, helping me with computer stuff, and shooting video and doing his own record making.
The whole thing is crazy of course. In seven days I have to be in Australia for my Rio opening. Nobody in their right mind would be doing THIS now. Yes, exactly.
Well, come along with us. I will post some stuff here. Panos will too.
Check out the Magnum Tumblr (http://lookingforamerica2012.tumblr.com) for more and well one way or another we will bring you a story. Not sure what story but a story for sure.
Ask Antoine a question. Or any of us. If we do not answer right away, it will be an internet issue. Ok road trip about to happen. In pursuit of THE TRUTH.
Alec Soth may have said it best in an email to me. “North Dakota might not be ready for Antoine and you”.