Photographer
Tim Jørgensen
Transported in images - on perception and placeRune GadeA soft, diffused light settles over many of Tim Jorgensen's subjects, allowing the individual elements equal distinctness and weight. We note that the picture planes are marked by a distributive democracy that affords each thing its own position and its own aspect. A distinctive evenness pervades these photographs, and attaches to vision rather than to place. In that sense, the photographs are as much about a mode of seeing as about specific locations, despite the fact that, on the face of it, the places come across as the main point. The take on them, however, is at once both quotidian and prosaic, uncommon and esoteric. As though they were visions. Wet dreams. The whole is lavishly bathed in visibility by the mellow, even light. Indeed, there is something both relentless and penetrating about this radiance, this indiscernible luminosity, which highlights planarity, the depthless appearances of things. Shadows too, instead of contriving to disguise, appear illuminated. Not even night conceals.Things collide. But the impact of collision is offset by the uniformity mediated by the perception of the photographer. The glacier's ponderous progress as compared to the breathtaking speed of the go-cart track. The infinite reams of library shelves as compared to the diminutive scale of the books. The three workmen on the roof set against the three businessmen on the pavement. The huge boulder punctuating the artificially lit barren drear of the underground car park. Tim Jorgensen's images evidence a finely attuned sensitivity to unexpected encounters, without ever staging them as theatrical denouements. There's no drama. No crisis. Merely quiet bemusement. As when a transition between three- and two-dimensional reality is blurred, and we cannot quite determine where the 'set' ends. Is the hot air balloon real? In the case of photographs, our doubt is further fuelled by the fact that, in the nature of the case, everything has already been transmuted into image. By teasingly underscoring the undifferentiatedness of the photographs, Tim Jorgensen plays with our incapacity to distinguish the one from the other. Although not irrelevant, the places are secondary. While we are indeed confronted with specific locations, Tim Jorgensen's interest is less in the places themselves than in the images into which, through his vision, they are transmuted. The subjects are drawn from everywhere, and yet there's a sense in which they all appear to hail from the same iconographical realm. While constituting visual records of places and spaces, they are even more an attestation to a consistent mode of seeing. There is a homogeneity to the gaze to which these places are submitted. And they all resemble images, which, in turn, resemble visions. It is as though the complex architectural structures share the commonality of looking like stage sets - urbanscapes, whose primary aim is to conjure convincing illusions of depth. The city is a semiotic forest, congested with pictograms and signs that we have to read our way through even as we move through them. Telephone poles and power cables dissect the sky, the residues of communication and energy. We are left feeling that the world is pre-configured to be transposed into image.While people are virtually absent, nothing is untouched by human hand. Indications of human agency are obliquely delineated, present in the photographs as traces. There is no vacuity here, but a plenitude. A plenitude that manifests itself through the absence of any human figure, through the presence of human actions, human interventions. There is scarcely anything beyond these overwhelmingly ubiquitous traces. The pictures are awash with them. In combination with the translucent light, these items are put on display as tangible proof. Tangible but equally enigmatic proof which seems to be gesturing demonstratively towards something. We cannot see what. But something. To contemplate these images is to inhabit another's vision and be drawn into narratives that are forever deflecting attention away from themselves, to something other than themselves. The images don't stop at the picture's edge. They continue far beyond - to where our thoughts leap even as our eyes are engaged. Persistently impelled there by Tim Jorgensen's photographs. Transported.
Visible Heroes ( Dubai 2008 )The following images are taking in Dubai during march 2008.An introduction video at Dubailand sales centre tell us; "Dubai, the ultimate heart of international family tourism" and further "The optimized life quality"But in the middle of all this prosperous, cosmopolitan world, Dubai seem to represent, we will also find the story about human trafficking. Most of all the building projects are being presented as a futuristic paradise populated by global tourism and a material harmony, which seem to belong in some utopian future. This is what building owners see as an coming future, I wanted to look at the present.A great concern for me, was that the constructions these people erected, financial centers, shopping malls, luxury hotels etc., seem in such great contrast to their life and living conditions.I chose to depict the working people while they where waiting for the busses to take them to their labour camps.The photographs of the workers are mainly from the area around Dubai Marina, where I was met with a great openness and curiosity, which I did not expect from people living under their conditions.The fact is that 95% of the workforce in Dubai is taken care of by foreigners. In 2005 was this amount of workers as high as 2,738,000 and the number has only been increasing. A typical story is that a construction worker gets offered about 3000 dirham a month and a contract on 2- 3 years. Reality shows that he will actually get paid about 500 Dirham, because of housing and expenses on food etc. He will get his passport confiscated, and wont be able to get it back before the contract is over.Stories of workers who have died because of exhaustion are not rare. In July and august the heat climb often as high as 45 Celsius in the desert city of Dubai. According to official calculations this number was back in 2005 as high as 34 workers. Its hard to imagine that this number has not been increasing as well.It was a great importance for me to show the people as they where, and not like anonymous workers in orange, grey, green or whatever color or uniform they wore.
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Transported in images – on perception and place
Rune Gade
A soft, diffused light settles over many of Tim Jorgensen’s subjects, allowing the individual elements equal distinctness and weight. We note that the picture planes are marked by a distributive democracy that affords each thing its own position and its own aspect. A distinctive evenness pervades these photographs, and attaches to vision rather than to place. In that sense, the photographs are as much about a mode of seeing as about specific locations, despite the fact that, on the face of it, the places come across as the main point. The take on them, however, is at once both quotidian and prosaic, uncommon and esoteric. As though they were visions. Wet dreams. The whole is lavishly bathed in visibility by the mellow, even light. Indeed, there is something both relentless and penetrating about this radiance, this indiscernible luminosity, which highlights planarity, the depthless appearances of things. Shadows too, instead of contriving to disguise, appear illuminated. Not even night conceals.
Things collide. But the impact of collision is offset by the uniformity mediated by the perception of the photographer. The glacier’s ponderous progress as compared to the breathtaking speed of the go-cart track. The infinite reams of library shelves as compared to the diminutive scale of the books. The three workmen on the roof set against the three businessmen on the pavement. The huge boulder punctuating the artificially lit barren drear of the underground car park. Tim Jorgensen’s images evidence a finely attuned sensitivity to unexpected encounters, without ever staging them as theatrical denouements. There’s no drama. No crisis. Merely quiet bemusement. As when a transition between three- and two-dimensional reality is blurred, and we cannot quite determine where the ‘set’ ends. Is the hot air balloon real? In the case of photographs, our doubt is further fuelled by the fact that, in the nature of the case, everything has already been transmuted into image. By teasingly underscoring the undifferentiatedness of the photographs, Tim Jorgensen plays with our incapacity to distinguish the one from the other.
Although not irrelevant, the places are secondary. While we are indeed confronted with specific locations, Tim Jorgensen’s interest is less in the places themselves than in the images into which, through his vision, they are transmuted. The subjects are drawn from everywhere, and yet there’s a sense in which they all appear to hail from the same iconographical realm. While constituting visual records of places and spaces, they are even more an attestation to a consistent mode of seeing. There is a homogeneity to the gaze to which these places are submitted. And they all resemble images, which, in turn, resemble visions. It is as though the complex architectural structures share the commonality of looking like stage sets – urbanscapes, whose primary aim is to conjure convincing illusions of depth. The city is a semiotic forest, congested with pictograms and signs that we have to read our way through even as we move through them. Telephone poles and power cables dissect the sky, the residues of communication and energy. We are left feeling that the world is pre-configured to be transposed into image.
While people are virtually absent, nothing is untouched by human hand. Indications of human agency are obliquely delineated, present in the photographs as traces. There is no vacuity here, but a plenitude. A plenitude that manifests itself through the absence of any human figure, through the presence of human actions, human interventions. There is scarcely anything beyond these overwhelmingly ubiquitous traces. The pictures are awash with them. In combination with the translucent light, these items are put on display as tangible proof. Tangible but equally enigmatic proof which seems to be gesturing demonstratively towards something. We cannot see what. But something. To contemplate these images is to inhabit another’s vision and be drawn into narratives that are forever deflecting attention away from themselves, to something other than themselves. The images don’t stop at the picture’s edge. They continue far beyond – to where our thoughts leap even as our eyes are engaged. Persistently impelled there by Tim Jorgensen’s photographs. Transported.
Væk i billeder – om syn og sted
Rune Gade
Et diffuseret, blødt lys lægger sig mildt hen over mange af Tim Jørgensens motiver og lader de enkelte dele træde ligeligt frem. På billedfladen bevidner vi et distributivt demokrati, som sikrer hver ting en egen plads og en egen tilsynekomst. Her er en særlig jævnhed på færde, som knytter sig til synsmåden snarere end til stedet. Fotografierne handler i denne forstand lige så meget om syn som om sted, selvom netop stederne umiddelbart fremtræder som det afgørende. Stederne ses imidlertid på en bestemt måde, som er hverdagslig og ordinær, men samtidig ualmindelig og esoterisk. Som var det syner. Vågne drømme. Det milde, jævne lys bader generøst tingene i synlighed. Der er noget både indtrængende og gennemtrængende over lyset, denne umærkelige luminans, som understreger det flademæssige, tingenes dybdeløse tilsynekomst. Selv når der i motiverne optræder skygger, skjuler de ikke noget, men forekommer tværtimod oplyste. End ikke natten skjuler noget.
Ting støder sammen. Men sammenstødenes voldsomhed afbødes af den forskelsløshed, som synsmåden sikrer. Gletsjerens langsomme vej målt imod gokartbanens fart. Bibliotekshyldernes infinitte udstrækning målt imod bøgernes knaphed. De tre arbejdere på taget over for de tre forretningsmænd på fortovet. Den kæmpemæssige sten midt i parkeringskælderens golde ørken af kunstlys. Tim Jørgensens billeder demonstrerer en udtalt sensibilitet over for de uventede møder. Men møderne iscenesættes aldrig som dramaturgiske kulminationer. Der er slet ingen dramatik. Intet højdepunkt. Kun en stille undren. Som når overgangene mellem en tredimensional og todimensional virkelighed sløres, og vi kommer i tvivl om kulissens grænser. Er luftballonen ‘ægte’? I fotografierne får vores tvivl ekstra næring, fordi alting naturligvis allerede er transformeret til billede. Idet han drillende forstærker forskelsløsheden, leger Tim Jørgensen med vores ringe evne til i et fotografisk billede at skelne det ene fra det andet.
Stederne er ikke irrelevante, men underordnede. Vi konfronteres nok med specifikke steder, men Tim Jørgensens interesse er mindre stederne selv end det billede, han kan omdanne stederne til via sin synsmåde. Motiverne stammer fra alle vegne, men virker alligevel på en måde som om de alle er fra sammesteds. Det er dokumentationer af steder og rum, men i endnu højere grad dokumentationer af en konsistent synsmåde. Der er en enhed i det blik, stederne bliver genstand for. Alle stederne ligner billeder. Alle billederne ligner syner. Det er som om de komplekse arkitektoniske strukturer, der skildres, har det tilfælles, at de tager sig ud som kulisser. Urbane scenografier hvis primære hensigt er at træde frem som overbevisende illusioner om en dybde. Byen er en skov af tegn, piktogrammer og skilte, som vi må læse os igennem ligeså meget som vi må bevæge os igennem den. Telefonmaster og elledninger gennemskærer himlen, kommunikationens og energiens aflejringer. Vi efterlades med følelsen af at alt på forhånd er struktureret til at blive gjort til billede.
Menneskene er så godt som fraværende. Men intet er uberørt af menneskehånd. Der tegnes indirekte portrætter af menneskelige aktiviteter, som toner frem i billederne som spor. Her er ingen tomhed, men tværtimod fylde. En fylde som manifesterer sig via fraværet af menneskeskikkelsen, men nærværet af menneskets handlinger, menneskets gerninger. Der er næsten ikke andet end disse overvældende allestedsnærværende spor. Billederne er til overmål fulde af dem. Sammen med det illuminerende lys stilles tingene til skue som en slags håndfaste beviser. Håndfaste men også gådefulde beviser, som demonstrativt synes at henvise til noget. Vi kan ikke se hvad. Men noget. At betragte disse billeder er at tage bolig i en andens syn og at blive ledt ind i fortællinger som endeløst viser bort fra sig selv, ud over sig selv. Billederne stopper ikke ved rammens kant. De fortsætter langt ud over den. Dér hvor vores tanker springer hen, mens vi kigger. Tim Jørgensens fotografier tvinger os hele tiden derhen, væk.
