Every town has areas that lie on the outskirts of the town’s consciousness. Framed by rusty chainlink fencing and crowned by piercing barbed wire garlands, can be found what the American photographic artist Paul Raphaelson calls found gardens.

Raphaelson finds inspiration in the wild vegetation that invade the town’s blind corners behind broken padlocks and warning signs from long-defunct security firms.

Raphaelson’s photographs are typically taken in Brooklyn and Manhattan, and elegantly show what happens there when suddenly the asphalt splits and plants start to push their way out. Nature declines to give way to the town and with time invades all the abandond spaces of the city.

This is a liberating sign for Raphaelson, who delights in the uninvited plant community's contrasts with the town's often antiseptic geometry and sheen.

Even the most dreary regions of New York appear elegant and charming though Raphaelson’s framing and lens. Go exploring in Raphaelson’s New York and see the crumbling walls, the rusty fences, the cracked asphalt and the green flora in these boxed-in city oases. Have fun!

Michel Henri
Editor
March 2006
translated from Danish by Struan Gray



Brooklyn-based photographer Paul Raphaelson is drawn to evidence of a rapprochement between the inner city and mother earth, elements of which coalesce into a harmonious visual aesthetic. Yet Raphaelson is out to depict more than just the hidden beauty of the contemporary cityscape. His work reveals the mysterious conjunction of trees and grass, steel and concrete that have given birth to a singular life force. This odd symbiosis of the animate and inanimate the photographer sees as a “new wilderness,” a modern analog to the wild landscapes of decades past.

Raphaelson is thus able to simultaneously address the process of urban decay and nature's ongoing efforts at reclaiming a measure of physical space within today's metropolis. The resultant visual tension invests his photographs with a complex emotional resonance as well an ironic sense of balance, with mankind and nature alternately in ascendance.

Undergirding many of the images is a spatial density that borders on the abstract. Raphaelson deliberately merges pictorial elements towards a non-figurative state, fully engaging the viewer's interpretive skills, yet allowing for an aesthetic response to the pictures' formal beauty. Such tableaux typically mix perceptual pleasure and disorientation, with no clear demarcation between the two. The conflicting intimations of dead ends and new beginnings gives rise to a living presence that places these photographs in the realm of metaphysical poetry.

The implications of a life force also draw attention to the city as habitat, which is by turns vital and barren. The photographer’s stance in this regard is decidedly neutral; he neither criticizes nor embraces the conceptual dichotomy that informs the images. Raphaelson doesn't impose his presence upon the urban topography, but lets himself be guided by the mood of each particular site in a kind of unconscious collaboration.

That Raphaelson feels aligned thematically with the 19th- Century photographer Timothy O’Sullivan seems apropos: The visual ethos O’Sullivan applied to his views of the American West (when it was still truly wild) corresponds to the approach of his 20th-century spiritual heir. Like his predecessor, Raphaelson functions as a visual cartographer, mapping out the relevatory interstices of our urban wildlands.  (exerpt)

Dean Brierly
Associate Editor
PhotoWork: Art & Technique
January 1997


This site and all content and linked files © Paul Raphaelson 1988-2006. No part may be used without permission.
resume
reviews
home
portfolios
purchase
statement
contact
links
Reviews
Paul Raphaelson