The aesthetic perception of the photographer, who received his training in visual communication and political science, seems to be highly influenced by the discipline of painting that he has maintained for many years earlier on in his life.
For me, a splinter represents something that is personal; something that will lose its impact if it is shown to others; something that is attributed with an extra value because of the fear of losing its impact; something that sometimes overwhelmed by this extra value but nevertheless still be emphasized. It is not easy to split and dissect a word which's origin is based on splitting.
At this point, I contemplating your works on gender roles, power relations between two genders, in other words your works portraying the boundary between masculinity and femininity in which we are trying to find our ground on different planes. Although I can find the clues in your works, I come to realize as I look carefully, that my basis is wrong: the images where you cannot find it tell more than the images where you can find it.
If I have a time machine, my nostalgia-lover mind reminiscing even 2 days ago as "those were the days" would surely take me to a couple of moments within my history of photography (yes, my history; since the moment someone's story fascinates me, doesn't it become my own?) or would create some moments.
When I started writing an introductory text for this conversation, I could not go beyond the sentence "Michael Kenna is a British photographer born in 1953.". The reason for this is the structure of Kenna's photographs that are silent and minimally constructed, thus inviting the audience to ascribe their own meanings into the works.
If I am to borrow the description by sweet Orhan Cem Çetin, photography is the proof that "something, once, has looked exactly like this from a specific point, for a specific period of time". This description appears valid at first, however I involuntarily think of propaganda images where someone is wiped out from the photograph when s/he is at odds with one who was once an ally.
Do you know the story of how Nietzsche lost his mind? Rumor has it that in a usual day like every other day, Nietzsche goes out of the house for an ordinary chore, and he sees a coachman whipping his horse fiercely. He cannot control himself and hurl himself on the coachman and starts crying. When his neighbors take Nietzsche home in crises, there is one thing Nietzsche keeps repeating: "Oh God, what have I done?"
This inclusion highlights how landscape photography is no longer just about nature but also about the “gaze” and/or “memory”. It is interesting to me that photography, a relatively new and flexible artistic genre compared to other visual arts disciplines, rises to prominence as a medium coinciding with the development of the modernization theory.
Photobooks (maybe because the word "reading" communes with books) open a free space for the viewer with social features like concentrating on what's on the artists' mind, holding the work in hand, establishing a direct relation with the work at a distance from possible new tabs and seeing some acquaintances.
And I realize with you: "It is not a smooth and sweet adventure to pursue some gin. It might be the most frightful of what they call love." I don't know how you associate the word "love," but what comes to my mind is: to hell with such a "love."