Snap happy


I have been enjoying the immediacy of documentation with my new smart phone, something I finally succumbed to purchasing. Hopefully now I will be better at capturing images of Sweden as part of my daily life, not just when I am on holiday, which is my current avenue for photography exploits. While I do not want to be a person attached at the hip (or the hand) to this mobile device, collating images of items of interest/daily curiosities can now become an ongoing occupation (for me along with the rest of the world).

FYI I am now present on Instagram under the moniker bruceanddeirdre.

Above are three buildings of interest - Heleneholms gatukök in dying light, small balconies on Vesterbrogade, Copenhagen, and the new mall monstrosity which is Emporia, Malmö. Actually I take the mall monstrosity comment back, I find the structure of Emporia quite fascinating.

More images to follow


In my own backyard

images via we find wildness, but really via neeve

It is odd when you discover things happening a stone's throw from your house on the internet. I was stopped in my tracks on a daily scroll through my reader, by the captivating image by Georgian artist Thea Djordjadze. The images are brief glimpses of her exhibition 'Our Full', showing right now at Malmö Konsthall. Right in my back yard.

Tomorrow I will take an hour out of last minute christmas shopping and the like to chill out in what seems a really fascinating show. The more shows like this I see the more excited I get about my own art practice, and my efforts to uphold it against rather minding numbing library drudgery.

Autumnal Afternoon


Taking photographs around Malmö with my visiting friend Bree / archery in autumn / probably Malmö's coolest car / good scenic Autumnal vibes, complete with dancing plastic bag / attempt to document wildlife failed miserably - the downside of the point and shot camera.

Anyone who doesn't believe that Autumn is the best season is surely deluding themselves. It is an amalgamation of the wind-down of summer and the anticipation of winter, which you know will wear off a few weeks in. A season where it is perfectly acceptable to still have a gin and tonic on a crisp sunny afternoon, then warm up with some roasted vegetables (pumpkin and parsnips cannot be beaten) and a delicious autumnal ale. It is the perfect time for reading in parks and admiring the gradual shift of hues in the trees. It is not yet too cold to wear a beret, and your coats don't have to be for purely practical reasons.

Autumn also has the coolest songs about it: my two favourites being 'Autumn Afternoon' by The Teddy Neeley Five, and 'It's Autumn' by The Hamlets. Autumn Afternoon has, hands down, the best 'ooo-ing' in a song, ever.


April in New Zealand is the height of Autumn, and I therefore count myself lucky to be born in that month. However, now everything is topsy-turvy, in Sweden my birthday falls in Spring.
And now I am writing this in the middle of winter. If anyone wants to visit me next year, come in Autumn.

Stills from the weekend










Film stills from 'Suna no Onna (The Woman in the Sand) /  newly acquired record rack (made in Sweden!) / pie / Kiss Kiss by Roald Dahl
The weekends become increasingly more important as winter inches nearer, and the nights grow even longer, dusk now falling some time between 4 and 4:30 pm. By the time I leave work during the week, it has already been dark for about an hour, skewing one's perception of time. So I try to take advantage of my weekends, the only time I can go out and wander around Malmö without turning on my bike headlights. 
Saturdays are the best days for doing things. On Sundays nearly everything is closed, or at least feels that way. Sundays are good days for cycles to the beach, which is a rather soothing place when it is cold and grey. Last weekend when I saw an old man swimming - it was probably 6 degrees at best. I am sure he has been swimming in November for many years. Old people are very resilient, I find. 
Yesterday was a day of small achievements for me. I saw a fantastic film at Cinemateket, Suna no Onna  (The Woman in the Dunes) as part of the Japanese New Wave series they are showing this season. Though visually captivating, I was also able to actively engage myself in the narrative as my Swedish comprehension appears to have reached the level where I can easily follow Swedish subtitles. A small coup as I continue to attempt to carve out a life for myself here.
After the film I challenged myself to make a meat pie, including the short crust pastry shell. My culinary skills are pretty hit and miss (though somewhat improving) and I began to think I had bitten off more than I could chew. (this would literally, be the case when it came time to consume the pie.) I conveyed my fears to a pie maker of some repute, who told me it would be a success and that I was "excellent at making mince". The pie, I must admit, turned out better than expected. I even went back for seconds. 
Sunday I went to a second hand store, ostensibly hunting for a  gift for someone and naturally coming away with a few for myself instead, coming away with a near perfect condition record rack in handsome navy to house my slowly expanding collection of singles, and a lucky find of a collection of short stories by Roald Dahl, the blurb on the back cover proclaiming "If your taste is for the macabre, the sick, the outrageous, the unexpected, the horrifying - Roald Dahl will give you orgiastic delight. If not, you are going to miss one of the most sophisticated collections of short stories in print."
I look forward to some sophisticated orgiastic delights  from Roald Dahl, starting with my lunch break at work tomorrow.








Evil Under the Sun



There was a slightly criminal atmosphere at the beach today, and it wasn't just my copy of Raymond Chandler's 'The Simple Art of Murder' which served as my post-bathe reading, accompanied by an Old Jamaica Ginger Beer.
I arrived to find that one end of the T shaped pier from which I swim had been burnt to a crisp, and not for the first time either. It made for a rather bleak image on a sunny, breezy day. It sort of appealed to the mood at the end of the pier though, the sea dark and choppy, colder than usual, me, the only person in the water - clouds kept covering the sun and dropping the temperature so regularly the Swedes couldn't decide whether or to have a dip or not. Most of the time they simply sunned themselves on the warm wood of the pier and looked at the cordoned off charred wood.
After a brisk swim to a buoy anchored a way off in the water with a pit-stop at the pontoon on the return trip, I left the pier to read my book in the grass, with the sun on my back.

På Cinemateket


Mannen på Taket (The Man on the Roof) dir. BoWiderberg (1976) / Elvira Madigan dir. Bo Widerberg (1967) /  The Trial dir. Orson Welles (1962) / Kärlek 65 (Love 65) dir. Bo Widerberg (1965) / Tabu, a Story of the South Seas dir. F.W Murnau (1931) / Los Olvidados dir. Luis Buñuel (1950) / C'era una volta il West (Once Upon a Time in The West) dir. Sergio Leone (1968) / Death in Venice dir. Luchino Visconti (1971) /

Every Tuesday and Saturday at Spegeln cinema, runs the Malmö branch of Cinemateket - a sort of film society organized by the Swedish Film Institute, showcasing films from throughout the history of cinema - spotlighting the oeuvre of directors, actresses, or focusing on a specific theme. It has allowed me to not only watch examples of classic cinema on the large screen, but discover new favourite directors, such as Malmö's own Bo Widerberg; see films from Argentina to Scotland, from the early silent days to present offerings.
There should really be something like this in every city - it's regularity and variety means there is always something too look forward to, with the opportunity to see films you may never otherwise have had the chance to see.

Above are some posters of my favourite films seen at Cinemateket, many have become some of my all time favourites - I love leaving the cinema feeling 'so deeply moved'. I would recommend seeing any, and all of them.

Malmö - grey city





Photographs taken around Malmö by Kris and I at the beginning of December. Taken with our new Konica C35 EF camera - picked up at a 2nd hand store (that kind of new), making a pleasant change from the safety net that is documenting in digital.
Above are snapshots of various local landmarks and such - Margaretapaviljongen in Pildammsparken; the Rose Fountain in Folkets Park; our street - with a couple of those windows being our apartment; Kris taking a constitutional in Pildammsparken; Kronprinsen - covered in a mosaic of millions of tiny blue tiles; and a self portrait riding the elevator at work.

I am intrigued as to see how the roles of film we took whilst holidaying in New Zealand turned out. (And if my photography skills have improved to a commendable level).While the camera seems to cope admirably with the greyness of a wintery Malmö, I am not sure how it has done with the overbearing brightness of New Zealand in full summer swing (maybe it was fortuitous that it rained almost the entire time we were there.)

You can find the rest of the roll on Kris's flickr.

Some Windows / Blinds



































Alex Philip Fitzgerald
Some Windows (2010)


Printed acetate and colored vellum layered on the windows of my studio in Malmö, Sweden.

 




























 RED OAK / FIRST DOG (2010-2011)
An imagined space where Walter de Maria's Broken Kilometer exists as a story of the separation of a boy and his two coon hounds.

alexphilipfitzgerald.com


friends making great art. more to peruse!

Ljus utan skuggor












































































































Kah Bee Chow
Ljus utan skuggor
2011

concrete, glass, cyanotype on silk, broken glass and mirror, globe pendant lamp, sanded floors, blanket, digital print, towel, sawn homeware catalogue, cup, steel chain, steel tube, found rocks.


A glittering array of carefully contructed mountains of polished glass, gently draped printed fabric, stoically robust grey columns and the reflections of plants/chains/crystals/aforementioned items caught in broken shards of mirror, while bright sunlight bears down and casts shadows that perhaps weren't meant to be there.

Kah Bee Chow's installation for the Malmö Konsthögskolan's annual exhibition open days was indeed a highlight. I love the feeling of seeing your friends make great work, which in turn inspires your own efforts.

Notes on a Scandal

 Crowd scenes from Malmö Stadion, where the game was held and eventually called off due to hooliganism.

Yesterday's 'derby' was the show-down between the two rival footballing cities of Skåne, Helsingborg and Malmö, whose teams (HIF and MFF) are also sitting first and second  respectively, on the Allsvenskan points table. Every time these rivals rendezvous the police are out in force on horseback on the streets, cautiously eyeing up raucous revellers. Chartered buses roll in from out of town, and patrol cars cordon off roads around the train stations to direct the flow of human traffic alighting from them, mingling with the sky-blue clad Malmö supporters wandering around the streets drinking cheap beer, letting off flares and chanting incomprehensibly.

The match was aborted after thirty minutes of play; after HIF scored a goal, enraged Malmö supporters pelted the Helsingborg goalie with firecrackers and one crazed fan brazenly burst onto the pitch to attack the goal keeper head-on. The man was carried by police, pall-bearer style, off the pitch and play abandoned.

The match is being referred to in Swedish press as 'The Scandal Match' and the HIF goalie keeps stating he is 'very shocked'.


Photographs via Sydsvenskan

From a Holiday































Diffust Deren - Sarah Jane Gorlitz / Ubåt U3 at Teknikens och Sjöfartens hus, Malmö / Chilled lobster on the street, Copenhagen / Window display at a Danish Auction House with polar bear and reflected surrounding architecture / Façade of Frederiksborggades Is ice cream parlour, Nørrebro, Copenhagen.

A small collection of photographs taken over Easter, 2011, when friends visited. Travels and adventures in Malmö and Copenhagen, when the weather stayed warm just for them it seemed, and as soon as the last one left, reverted to windy, chilling, and grey.

I prefer looking at holiday snaps in groups of five or so. Too many, and I lose interest, not enough, and I am unable to build up some sort of narrative or aesthetic connection between each image. I like to think of photographs 'fitting' with other photographs, I suppose that is why I have always held an interest in diptychs, jump cuts, film stills and so on and so forth, and the implicit/explicit nature of the pairings or collections - whether it be by colour, light, composition or subject matter, or the background and storytelling behind the images themselves.

One criticism about the referential nature of my art practice is that the audience is not necessarily privy to all the links, hints, references, plays-on-word and in-jokes behind them. Perhaps not, but maybe there is enough to build on by the aesthetic of the image/artwork itself.

Studio Visit

April contained a bevvy of exciting experiences, including the start of a new, full time, Swedish speaking job, an amazing Easter sojourn from aforementioned job with visits from three wonderful friends, the commencement of time spent in my new basement studio, and the beginning of a new project mentioned here previously. Hurrah for April, I say, as I still come to terms that today is in fact, the first of May.


























































The white striped shower curtain I am at present embroidering on in my new studio / close ups of the North Pole, which Robert Peary reached on the day of my birth in 1909, and the mystical 'Crocker Land', of which the map claims to have plotted / Ryan documenting the work in progress /studio portrait of the artist with invisible artwork.

Plans for May include afternoons after work sewing white on white, and perhaps fitting a couple of afternoons playing basketball in between.

Overcast


girl with moon, stairs by Toshio Shibata

Waiting for these grey days to wind up and spring weather to burst out of the frozen, dead ground, preferably in one of those sped up versions of the life of flora David Attenborough is such a fan of. Malmö has a shadow of Narnia about it at the moment, where it's always winter and never christmas, and I would really appreciate it if Aslan got 'on the move' before my birthday rolls around in the beginning of April.

I suppose this winter has felt a little like climbing a never ending case of stairs. At the start, it is all rather exciting, and you can't comprehend how long these stairs stretch on for, and you pause every now and again to take in the scenery and you notice how it changes the further you progress. Then you get to the stage where admiring the view is the last thing on your mind and the main priority is putting on foot in front of the other, while walking headfirst into a stiff breeze, and instead of wishing for this toil to be over, regretting that you foolishly took it on in the first place.

In the meantime I will try and follow through with a few recent plans: photograph my immediate environs regularly, practice my knot-tying technique, spend an entire day speaking swedish, and see more films at the Malmö Cinemateket.

Cotton Anniversary


































Portrait after having lived for one year in Malmö, Sweden. A small milestone!

Efter tolv månader i Sverige, har jag nu:

- mastered enough of the Swedish language to articulate my thoughts to Swedish friends and acquaintances in both sober and less sober states of mind, attempted to read my first Agatha Christie in Swedish, written short pieces of text about ABBA, Twin Peaks, and my old flat in Auckland, followed American TV shows by reading Swedish subtitles, watched an Ingmar Bergman film without subtitles, however the extent of my comprehension of that film is highly debatable.

- become a fully fledged cyclist about town, no other mode of transport can compare to the bicycle, especially after one has learnt the necessary cycle etiquette and rules, thus avoiding any awkward cycle faux pas or potentially hazardous accidents.

- been offered full time employment as a library assistant at Malmö Högskolas Bibliotek, the huge success after months of job coaching, awkward phone calls, applications I didn't understand and seemingly pointless business networking. Good things, do apparently, take time. Was told I had 'made a great impression and had really good references', so those must be the secrets to employment.

- not cut my hair for 12 months. It is at present the longest it has been in my life. The goal is to leave it that way at least until I can successfully explain to a Swedish hairdresser what I actually want in a hair style.

- travelled to more cities than I ever have before. Copenhagen, London, Glasgow, Berlin so far and counting. With the incoming funds from the above mentioned employment, hopefully this year the list will continue to expand.

- read an impressive number of  classic books, taking advantage of Malmö public library's excellent English fiction section. Titles include Rebecca, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Steppenwolf, The Remains of the Day, Pan, Nineteen Eighty-Four, the short stories of Truman Capote, all of Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe novels. I hope this reading trend will continue, with high literature in English and low brow pocket detective fiction in Swedish.

- experienced my first northern hemisphere winter, and in turn seen my first snow. A truly magical experience, and now, after many snowfalls, the wonder of it still gets me in a bit of a tither and I feel the need to uselessly announce the fact that snow is falling. These thoughts and feelings are documented in a short text about my first impressions of snow.

A Cowboy in Sweden



Momus in Sweden: giving a lecture in Lund which I sadly could not attend, and performing at Brogatan last night in a cramped and sweat inducing cellar, which was rumoured to have posed as a strip joint in a previous incarnation. The small confines and slightly disreputable hearsay of the venue only complemented Momus' intoxicating and beguiling presence, such an entertaining time at a gig I have not experienced in quite a while.

A friend asked me if I had spoken to Momus, and I had to reply that sadly no, I had not. I suppose, having only heard a few of his songs, and followed his tumblr, I preferred to keep him at an arms length, uphold the enigma and all that jazz. Besides, I would have had no idea what to say. Sometimes I would rather just be an innocent bystander enjoying watching everyone else.

17 Lies About A Shed In Lund lecture photo via Mrs Tsk*.
See more of Momus in action here.