Martin J. Sabine // Negative Space Paradigm

The negative space that surrounds objects and places, devoid as it is, of all encompassing light still draws our attention. The intrusive spark of brightness within the darkness of an image highlighting the contrast between the two. You come to the photograph or image as an aesthetic object with no context... Then you step in and read the text and then out again to revisit the image in a completely different way. I'm interested in that space between text and image. The piece becomes the negative space between the two. Therefore conceptually the two sets of negative space the one within the image the other between the text and image come together as a kind of symbiotic paradox. 

The Importance of this analysis is presumptive, in so much that it requires a level of understanding from potential viewers of the image, to make a distinction between the title (the text) and the photograph (the image) a photograph without proper caption is worthless particularly in journalism. On the other hand, you can cause damage with an incorrect title: For instance you can diminish the impact of an image by using overly cute titles, or take away the imagination of the viewer by describing too much or leading in a direction that the image is not quite supporting. Sometimes this might be an enhancement, where the author of the image wants to influence the audience in any given direction, and other times it can end up being a distraction.

In essence do titles contribute to the meaning that is seen in an image? According to purist doctrine, words beyond the image/frame are not supposed to influence the understanding or appreciation of visual form, ergo it argues that titles should function simply as identification tags not sources of meaning for the viewer. The contrary position of most discerning contemporary advocates of the free aesthetic articulate views at variance to the purist credo, moreover they have moved away from the elitist doctrine on how art should be viewed to a more open liberal approach that focuses on conceptualizing the function of titles, as an example they are concerned with titles not as mere tags, but descriptions that have a unique purpose that determine to a degree the interpretation of the aesthetic of an image. 

What a work of art is titled…..has a significant effect on the aesthetic it presents and the qualities we perceive in it. Titles emphasise relevant contextual factors in the viewing of artworks and different titles engage the viewer in many ways. Some titles for instance provide explicit directives for interpretation which can add to the experience or conversely in other cases detract. In some examples the title can be a simple and straightforward description that adds little to the meaning of the work so becomes neutral in the equation. 

In conclusion does the difference in the title affect what people interpret from an image or in part what they attend to, or do different people respond and react differently? That question is open-ended as we all know that art is very subjective and we take what we want from any presentation of art. I think we can all agree, that as long as we enjoy the engagement whether positive or negative, is all that matters and that so long as we take away an overall appreciation of the experience then this is a benefit to both the viewer and the artist….

© M.J. Sabine 2020

Martin J. Sabine // Boris Johnson "Class" Clown

Imagine if you will Boris and his "Bullingdon Boys" talking of jolly japes guffawing out loud at their outlandish behaviour their collective arses covered by their privilage, trashed restaurants, hotel rooms and pigs heads notwithstanding is this really the acceptable background and remit for someone to run the country.

The characteristics he displayed at Oxford – entitlement, aggression, amorality, lack of concern for others – are still there, dressed up in a contrived, jovial image. It’s a mask to sanitise some ugly features. They "the boys" treated certain types of people with absolute disdain, and referred to them as ‘plebs’ or ‘grockles’, and the police were always called ‘plod’. Their attitude was that women were there for their entertainment, to do with them whatever they wished. Among them was the former Prime Minister David Cameron and George "Austerity" Osbourne a fine bunch of individuals? Well I leave that up to you to decide.

Johnson's total lack of morality and his penchant for lying is excused by those around him as "Oh it's just Boris being Boris" Really!! Portrayal of him as an irrasicable charmer  running his hand through his mop of hair like a spoiled child is dangerous as this paints him as harmless when he is anything but. Class to him is the get out of jail card, the product of a privileged background, all grace and favor, the cheque book bailout if all else fails. It's hardly the credentials of an upstanding citizen.

His grotesque portrayal of ethnic minorities is another failure of his "class" upbringing, couched in terms of colonialism his references to black people as "piccaninnies with watermelon smiles" and muslim women in burkhas as nothing more than postboxes is an affront to common decency and downright racist. When challenged about this Johnson characterised it like this "I like to think my instincts, in this respect, are as blameless as those of the average person; and the thing is, I am guilty nonetheless. Not of racism, I hope, but of spasms of incorrectitude, soon over, soon regretted". Well that's fucking alright then! Hand slap to forehead…

He leaves behind him a trail of failed relationships and "bastard" children the number of which is unknown as again the cheque book defence came in handy to keep that tally out of the public domain. His failure to accept responsibility for anything is self-evident in the way he distracts, waffles and bluster's through the present crisis of the pandemic, plausible deniability his weapon of choice. His animated delusional obsession of leaving the EU without a deal is on display everyday, his use of latin phrases used as a warrior would use a shield, to deflect from his inadequacy, his continued use of language which is often a mixture of unexpected metaphors or turns of phrase, hyperbole, and nostalgia, very often with a particularly British twist such as piffle, mugwump and nincompoop.

All the character traits listed here are the sum of the parts of a public facade to absolve Boris Johnson of the reality that he is in fact of a lesser intelligence than he and his entourage would have us believe, personally I blame his parents, siblings and educators who have allowed him to become the person he is today a self obsessed misogynist, a racist and narcissist, a fucking good slap early on in life would have knocked the "braghard" out of him and sending him through a normal educational system would have stood him in better stead than the cloak of privilege which hangs loose upon his rounded shoulders.

So when Boris and his "Classmates" drive us over the Brexit cliff edge all those who voted for him and his cronies will have those immortal words ringing in their collective ears "Well it's just Boris being Boris".....

© M.J. Sabine 2020

Zaar Riisberg (Zaarchasm) // I am Special pt 1: Bland on the Run

I did some shots for a band my friend was playing in. Little did I know, that my friend was being fucked over by these twats. My friend is the most gifted guitarist I have ever met - a truly brilliant maverick musician. The band was doing old punk songs - in my opinion, something vastly below the skillset of my friend, but not the rest of the guys in the band - whom I really liked. Turned out they were doucebags. Small men as it were. I have met my share of them, trying to stab me in the back, sully my name in front of others, or just ganging up on you in a really vile manner. Why do the rest of us have to contend with other people’s insecurities?

Most shots were painstakingly done, initially run through Lightroom, Camera Raw, Photoshop and carefully finished with just the right offset - EACH AND EVERY SHOT. On top of this, I payed my own way at a one of their concerts and gave them the shots. Top dollar work, and the best pictures the band had - and they are still using them. It is good work, even though, it was pro bono or payed very little. Why? Because I work passionately for people I like and very professionally for people that pay. I value my personal integrity - after all, I have to live with myself.

So once again, people of mediocre talent are allowed to stifle those of real talent. This is a problem for this world - the envy of the truly bland. ‘I am special’ the individual seems to cry out. It always leaves me with a ‘prove it’ echoing through my brain. Instead, most will scale the body of others, until they reach the shoulders and then stand on them.

It is the same behaviour that made me hide, curtail my output or indeed control it a lot more. I have hated being an inspiration for others, and I have felt exasperated at times, when people more or less said ‘so inspirational, keep it coming’. Fuck you. I would rather not have an output than inspire people that never go out of the box themselves. The excitement for me is creation, exceeding boundaries - I want to look behind the veil, I want to be on the path to the palace of wisdom.

I do not know what path everyday farts like the ones that fucked over my friend are on. All I know is, that when the people of talent have had enough, everyone else is left up shit creek without a paddle but a ton of followers, either payed for or collected under false pretences. I am not even talking about ‘influencers’ - we all know they are a bunch of cock suckers - no, I am talking about people and artists of talent that chose to find a template for success, rather than being true to themselves and let the subconscious grab their aim and steer them in.

With this, I open the floor to others - past and present contributors or indeed readers - to enter this theme ‘I am Special’ - would you like to write part II or III? I have more instalments myself, but I do so love the yumminess of concerted and collaborated efforts.

Graham O'Neill // Arbroath Harbor

Text by Zaar Riisberg

Do not stare at this too long - you might spot a seriously sound geo shot. I like compartmentalisation. Ron does it in a lot of his - this is why I admire him - but Graham is going places with it too. They both have a knack for working the mundane. So do I - the same goes for Martin. Art in a crevice. But we do it in different ways. I seek to look past the veil, and show you what I see. Martin creates art from his vicinity. We are all scavengers of light.

Maybe the shot could have benefitted from a crop on the right, but I'm not at all sure. It is nitpicking. Graham's a naturalist - could be interesting to see him do graphism or something akin to it.

Meanwhile, in other news, the world is on fire. 

Martin J. Sabine // Derelict Soul

By Martin J. Sabine

When I look at this ruinous place I feel its pain, the windows look back at me like the eyes of an
empty soul we share the numbness of being left behind. This abandoned house stands skeletal in its urban surroundings its walls no longer keep it safe, no longer repel the rain or snow, stripped of its dignity it succumbs to gravity dying slowly, creaking in the gusting winds.

The smell of decay, mildew and stale dank air thick with dust defines its character, shafts of light
bursting through the gaps in the roof and broken windows illuminate the empty shell, it's like a void, a never ending dark void that consumes everything, so your left feeling nothing. Empty. Its emptiness is all consuming it subsides in the shadows it creeps up and envelopes you in its shrouded mist, you cannot pretend that everything is OK because it’s not, this place like me is a derelict soul.

EDITOR'S NOTE

Imagine if you could play derelict soul. I imagine it would sound a lot like the sniper nest in Full Metal Jacket. Then again, dereliction never leaves you engulfed in shrill sounds that molest your spine. Rather, it often gives you a sense of calm - or the wonder of story sets in as your brain starts to associate what it might have looked like in its prime. Yeah, that's it.