I completely omitted this photograph when I made the initial edit from the student protest in London (November 8, 2010).  I remember the moment when the fire extinguisher was thrown off the roof so clearly.  It was, like in a photograph, as if time stopped.  I can’t explain the many thoughts that crossed my mind in the brief instance that it took for that object to drop to the ground, but they were all terrifying.  The most terrifying though was that someone would definitely be killed the moment that the extinguisher got to ground level.  Miraculously this did not happen.  I don’t know if we owe this miracle to the police or the students, but in that moment, police and students, for as brief as it was, were on the same side of the gun.

I do not wish to enter in the meaning of this moment, but I will say that it shows a break in the comradeship of students.  For the fight at the time became not against the establishment, but against the activists who were at the time on the roof.  Perhaps, if we get more philosophical, we were fighting ourselves, who until then were supporting what was going on.  And many still cheered after this happened.

Now, as a photographer I thought that the image could have been stronger if I would have been closer to the falling object, and captured both the expressions of the people and the extinguisher.  Having thought about this photograph for some time now, I’ve realized that the image is actually stronger as it’s been shot.  The space that the extinguisher occupies in the surface of the photograph is insignificant.  Then there are the people on who can be barely spotted on the roof, and the crowd of police and students in the bottom.  This insignificance of the extinguisher in mid flight on the photograph becomes an allegory of the whole reason for the demonstration.  On the one hand, it shows how insignificant the person who threw it thought this act was (and how insignificantly small his brain was too).  On the other hand, it represents what the government has done to students.  At this point of the day, the activists on the roof have taken the place of the institution, and in this act, metaphorically illustrated what the government has done by raising student fees.  They’ve dropped a bomb on our heads and everyone else who was there (ie the police) while they sit in Parliament and politicize education.

Today is a day to remember. What started as a peaceful demonstration, ended in violence at 30 Millbank (as expected. Amongst us, were some who couldn’t keep their sticks for the signs. Although these students and activist were a minority the police was outnumbered. They couldn’t fight back those who fought for their rights and every persons right for education. The message was clear. You say cut back, we say fight back.

(for queries on the photographs contact me)

Michael Jackson - Man in the Mirror by Paul Normansell

A Gallery is proud to present work by artists Paul Normansell, Maximilian Wiedemann and Mikael Alacoque. The exhibition will run from the 11th of December until the 30th of December.

The gallery is open from Wednesday to Sunday, 11.00 – 18.00

PRIVATE VIEW – 10th December, 18.00 – 21.00
RSVP for entrance: fraser@agallery.co.uk

Wanted Gallery, 15b Blenheim Crescent
Notting Hill, London W11 2EE

From the Vogue paintings. by Maximilian Wiedemann

Liberte by Mikael Alacoque

Finally today the police visited the neighbourhood.  Thea, my girlfriend, told me she heard the drugdealers dealing right outside our door, and when I mean right outside I mean leaning on the door.  Moments after, we heard a big fuss outside, police was arresting some guys, and a big fight started.  Two of the bad guys ended on the floor and handcuffed.

I had to peak out and see what was going on, the panoramic window in the kitchen was to much of a barrier.  So I oppened the door and by it, was a guy on the floor and the police man looked at me and said hi.  I said hi, and closed the door again. » Read the rest of this entry «

It’s been a week since I came back to London. It took longer for my mind to arrive, and it finally did yesterday at the London College of Fashion graduate’s show.

It was delayed for an hour, in which I sat by my better half and friends fiddling with my hands, my eyes heavy, and stomach growling for a burger. I sat on the third row at the very beginning of the catwalk and dreamed on.
The lights turned off and the fashionista music rose to a deafening volume. A spotlight turned on illuminating the beginning of the catwalk. There was a moment where everything stopped, the music played but the scilence was numbing. As my eyes lightened and a long leged burger walked on to the catwalk.  It stopped right about where I was sitting, turned in its place and faced me opening it’s arms.

The lights turned off and the fashionista music rose to a deafening volume.  I was exited to see my friends work on the catwalk.  I’d seen some of their designs, but I wasn’t ready for what would come.  Clothes in movement look much better, usually.

Irene Brandt

I am an outsider insider to fashion, so I will try my best and comment about the show.  I’d like to start by Irene Brandt, who displayed an elegant collection inspired in Guillermo Kuitca’s theatre paintings.  A concise collection made of silk and wool, with a black, grey and soft beige palette.  Everything sown and finished to perfection.  It is worth mentioning her hand held purses and rope legings stood out in the collection.

Joseph Lazo 1

Josef Lazo 2

Josef Lazo 3

Second, Josef Lazo presented a sexy collection with painted fabrics, soft fabrics and rough fabrics.  I saw a lot of legs out in the air, which to me is a plus.  Also, very elegant body suits made of rough looking painted fabrics, alway’s keeping elegance and quality before anything else.

Fran and Jess

Fran & Jess 2

My two favourite though, I must admit were Frances & Laetitia.  Their series, bodering on coherence, displayed a mixture of fur, batik, hoodies, fury leggings, polygonal patching and crazy punk shoes.  It was surprise after surprise, and the coolest most extravagant clothes in the show, I found much of them actually wearable.  Perhaps not all at once, but combined with other things.

Anyway, this is the opinion of someone who knows nothing about fashion, but enjoy’s it none the less.

My girlfriend Thea came with me to kiss me goodbye at liverpool St. I always miss her when im off travelling.
On my way to Gatwick airport. The trip starts with Bob Dylan’s biograph album. The sight on the way: nothing but endless tubes of the London underground. Later, a coach train over the river Thames reminds me of the wonderfull city I’m living in. I tend to feel blinded and caged in London.

“All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses his real condition of life and his relations with his kind.” (Marx and Engels, The communist Manifesto.)

I like to meet people who don’t really give a flying fcuk about current mainstream siht.  The last couple of sundays I’ve been hitting the Sunday Up market in search of the fantastic De La Panza meat club.  A couple of “buena onda”, laid back Argentinian fellows cooking meat sandwitches and “choripanes” with lots of love.  

Today was my third visit there, I was doing some photos in exchange for food…  Definitely worth it.  Getting to know them I discovered they are both musicians.  Great ones I must say. Tongas dribbles between Tango, Afro-beat and dub, producing music largely based on percusion, and a back track with a scent of Piazzola.  A pleasent and mellow beat to sit back and take a moment for yourself.  On the other side of the river, Pabs & the Frogcats mixes new-disco, house and arcade sounds, great for the transition between a lounge afternoon to a hard night of mayhem. 

I’m not talking about any mainstream glamour-disco-trash; everybody is spinning that right now in the clubs around London (and worldwide).  I’m talking here about true musicians who believe in what they do.  I was quite surprised because the first thing I’d expect to hear from music makers or music takers is :  ”I’m a DJ…” and after, a silence to which one is supposed to be impressed or something (never judge a book by it’s cover, not that I had, at least in that way, but sometimes the content of a book might surprise you with an unforseen variety of subjects).  Unfortunately not many people keep such a humble low profile and are good at what they do.  Anyway, Pabs gave me a demo to play at home, and Tongas (between the lines) sliped a paper with his myspace.

Pabs and the Frogcats

Tongas

Enjoy..!