Photographic dream # 9.
November 1, 2011
I am at the opening of a group photographic exhibition, the specific location is unknown, yet the building itself is of seemingly modest size; rather narrow in width, yet its length extends far beyond my peripheral vision both left and right and it would appear for quite some distance, although this is unconfirmed.
The walls are painted off-white, the roof is a cross hatch of steel trusses punctuated with glass pains, it reminds me of the canopy at Bristol Temple Meads Railway Station, but on a much smaller scale.
I begin a conversation with Bret Rogers of The Photographers Gallery who compliments me on my sensitive and diligent choice regarding the size and content of my prints from the series Chat Roulette.
She specifically states that twenty-four inches wide is quite appropriate given the dimensions of the space and the cumulative number of works contained with in the show.
Although I can see the other photographs displayed, I can’t make out the content of the imagery. Neither am I aware of the theme that is supposed to be running though the exhibition.
Directly opposite my prints – that are displayed in a line at eye level, of which I think there are four – is a large bed that runs almost the length of the room. There are a number of people clustered together lying on their backs conversing, their legs raised at 45-degree angles with their feet pressed flat against the wall.
I pause for a moment, admire the scene before me, and make a photograph in my mind since this evening I am camera-less.
Bret and I chat away casually upon the bed before being joined by Jan Williams of The Caravan Gallery and, having met once before, we reacquaint ourselves with one another.
Bret and Jan then proceed to discuss the Chat Roulette series at some length while I patiently listen on taking mental notes of their discussion.
They conclude unanimously that Chat Roulette is a tremendous body of work and a highlight of the exhibition.
Then I woke up.
© Tim Mills. Study of lights coming through my window at night # 1. 2011.
