Andres Gonzalez was on a seemingly ideal photo trajectory. He was selected for the PDN 30 class of 2006 and was a 2007-2008 Fulbright Fellow. His clients included Newsweek, Monocle and Time. But not everything was sunny and f16…
This series started soon after I left the photo agency I was with about a year and a half ago. They had submitted a series I made in Ukraine to an Italian magazine, and when I translated the text I found that they had rewritten some of my statement to give it a newsy slant. That really made me angry and soon after that I decided to leave the agency. It pretty much amounted to wanting more control over my work and how it was presented. That was the catalyst that pushed me to start putting this project together. The idea of storytelling has always been problematic for me, especially after moving abroad. For a long time I forced myself to tell other people’s stories because thats what journalists are supposed to do. Now I really just want to learn to see through my own eyes, to find my center and find a balance between being intentional and being open to the world. Looking for pictures has always been a form of meditation and I want my work to reflect that. Maybe that’s a bit soft, or perhaps even self-indulgent but thats really what I’m looking for. I love how quiet the world gets when you engage in deep observation. There is a loneliness there and I’m intrigued by that kind of beauty. I guess I want to believe there is room for everything.
The passenger steps out onto the overcast deck and remembers a line. Soft was the sun. The wind to his back, he is facing the stern and an endless trail of thoughts drifting away from him towards the horizon. He wants no words, only to enjoy the delicate anticipation of a moment waiting to reveal itself. What are the limits of language? This is the mind, felt, not spoken. He makes a photograph of a seagull, and does not resist the emotion that brings.
There is a town passing by on the starboard side of the ship, the mind-boggling, awe-inspiring, crazy-making, world of people. He is happy for the distance, but knows that the idea of separation is an illusion. Everything exists according to the laws of nature. There is a core, it seems. The sea turns grey for a moment, the lights from the town slowly dimming, overtaken by fog. He makes another photograph of the fading light, the soft presence of time. The ship begins to slow, ahead a port, another journey.