With the explosion of amateur photography at the very dawn of this millennium, thanks to the emergence of affordable mass-market digital compact cameras, followed closely by the birth of social media, and the almost-overnight sensation of smartphone technology in the latter half of the first decade, our contemporary digital age is now largely a cacophony of visual photographic noise - often overwhelming and underwhelming all at once, and all for the wrong reasons.
Suddenly, photography was cheap, figuratively and literally, becoming nothing but a flash-saturated record of drunken nights out, poorly framed and blurry snaps of people's fugly children, and generic holiday photos of some crap statue somewhere shit that was filled with other stupid tourists taking pictures of other shit. Ultimately, nothing was said, and no stories of value were told.
Once-upon-a-time photography was a novelty, and photographers were too. Straight photographs from the 19th century usually reveal the locals (complete with at least one person turning their head just as the exposure fires), having come to pose and posture in the knowledge that they'd be captured on glass plate for posterity. In doing the same these days, you're more likely be approached by some jobsworth 'security' guard insisting that you can't photograph this or that, but that is for another story.
Shot in analogue, in part for its archival qualities, but mostly because I prefer the medium to clinical and soulless digital RAW files, my aptly titled 'For the sake of posterity' body of work is an informal and long-term project that seeks to record our (my) contemporary and living history of London's urban environment and life within it, with a knowing and agreeable nod and wink towards said posterity. This is a personal work to satisfy my desire to record life for the sake of posterity and is shot on analogue 35mm, medium and large formats, as well as digital 35mm equivalent.
I'll bet good fucking money that there are far more images of shit food, snapped in pretentious restaurants by iPhoned-up narcissistic fucknuggets - all dimly lit and ever so blurry - and of course, all photographed nonchalantly from the— me, obviously. 2018
hipchin whilst skilfully leaning back in ones chair, arms akimbo, right-angled at shoulder level, for that always original 'foodie' trademark angle, as if both the food, right there and then, and the very photograph itself, were both unique and ever so critical-to-share, that orgasmically squirting it all over the various social media channels for even more narcissistic social media fucktards to gobble up, in some perverse mutually-beneficial need for attention by similarly-minded morons, in some cyclical-cycle of arsebuggery, right fucking now. Complete with fucking hashtags even. Yes that.
I've always been an historian and photographs that incidentally document a time, whether conceptually or otherwise, have always held fascination for me, and so, I too document the urban environment out of a passion for what is and what will have been. Contemporary photos will be old too, one day.