Territory

I’ve been thinking about ways to approach the pho­to­graphs I’ve been shooting since the begin­ning of this year. It looks as though I’ve shot around 50 or 60 rolls between January, when Liu Bing and I went to Xinjiang, and August, when I visited London for a week. (If anyone is keeping track, about 12 of those are slide, 24 print film, the rest, probably between 16 and 20, black and white.) By the time I had left London, probably a day or two before I flew, I had decided, without really ever con­sciously deciding, that I was going to begin doing some­thing a little dif­ferent from September onwards; more pre­cisely, the week back in the UK felt like a landmark, or pivot — I reached some­where, in my head, and determ­ined that it was time to push off in another dir­ec­tion. The side effect of feeling I was going off some­where new was that the previous phase, January to August, needed to be dealt with. And thus I began thinking about, and am still thinking about, those 50 or 60 rolls.

When I hit Shanghai I made a few choices, picked up a lot of black and white film, and set off back to Xi’an charged with purpose — dig into the undeveloped bag of film and start pulling out shots. And out of that came Ter­ritory (not land­scapes, but land­scapes overlaid with bound­aries and borders; and not the bound­aries and borders of politics and history, civil­isa­tion and devel­op­ment, but the bound­aries and borders, fragile and inchoate, of human neces­sities and desires, ideas and dreams), a first gasp of air taken by pho­to­graphs that had been holding their breath for seven months. It is just a word, or an idea squeezed into a word, and it may not last; but I am inter­ested to see what more will come as I gradu­ally work through the backlog. Addi­tion­ally, there will be newer work, shot as I am pro­cessing the older work, and the two may well interact. Daunting though it may sound, I am looking forward to steadily scanning through the seven months that saw me in Xinjiang, Lanzhou, Hanzhong, Yinchuan, and also, in the weeks fol­lowing the earth­quake, in Xi’an.

And as I write this I am in Xi’an. I had to come back again for a little health check (a check related to my work visa — nothing worrying), but the biggest motiv­a­tion for returning, for me, was to finally relocate the bulk of my things to Hanzhong — this may be the last time for quite some time that I am a resident in Xi’an (I’m sure I’ll make occa­sional appear­ances here as a visitor). And there was a further incentive to come: in Xi’an there is a very good lab, and so while here I have had pro­cessed all of the colour film I’ve exposed since January, both slide and print (remark­ably, it only took 400 pieces of Chinese money and a couple of hours waiting). The sight of all those pho­to­graphs — some for­gotten, some not — stacked up in plastic sleeves was a little strange: I had become very com­fort­able with the notion that they were neatly wound up in their scratched and crudely annot­ated can­nis­ters, unseen; after they had been released back into the light of day (from light to dark and back to light — simple and pleas­antly sym­met­rical) it struck me that they had suddenly become far more demanding entities. They require atten­tion. (They’re calling now, from the bag, but I’m trying to ignore them — no scanner, here, so nothing I can do for them but stare and tease with the pos­sib­ility of release.)

[Update: a new post on related matters can be found here.]