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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
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This site and all content and linked files
© Paul Raphaelson 1988-2006. No part may be used without
permission.
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