November is the month of transformation. Grey sky, heavy atmophere, people lost in thoughts.
The long sunny days are long time gone, the romantic but cold atmosphere surrounds us.
Black goes out to be processed and wrapped in light, we prepare for a new beginning.
Only the colours give us hope for a bright future.
Thank you November day! (Text and photos by Florina Luput)
A group of people come from the neighbouring villages to Corcova, to harvest the wine grapes. During the harvest, they spend the nights in a house close to the vineyard. There is no TV, no Internet, no shops nearby, no network signal for the phones.
So people wash up, cook, eat and then go to sleep early in the evening to be able to start a new working day at 5 am.
They were kind enough to let me spend two afternoons with them and with their families, and I am very grateful for this opportunity.
September 2016. Corcova, Mehedinti, Romania (Text and photos by Mihai Ciama)
Rafael calls his pictures "Broken Dreams", Moriyama called his pictures fears, D'Agata called them obsession and darkness.
Bottom line, all the above fall under what André Breton termed "convulsive beauty" in the Manifesto of Surrealism.
The same goes for Kertesz's distortions, Man Ray's violin, Atget's shop windows ...
Dadaism appeared post WWI, hand-by-hand with Surrealism as an anti-bourgeois protest "against this world of mutual destruction." As a scream against the madness of collective homicide.
But why now, at times of relative peace, this cyclical re-emerging of the opposite of everything? Why still go beyond aesthetics, offending the established harmony?
It is because almost two centuries of photography could not convince us that perfection in art can perdure. Better technologies, cameras, films, lenses, sensors came to provide crisp images able to be magnified at gigantic levels. And yet, we merrily and happily embrace Man Ray's words: "I would photograph an idea rather than an object, a dream rather than an idea." (Photos by Rafael Ianos)