Spring on the Northern Slopes

This week has felt like the end of winter, bright and sunny, with most of the streets dry and the paths in the parks damp of melting snow and ice. In the wood on the northern slope where I do my walk there is still plenty of snow, but it’s getting more and more grey and the green moss shows through in many places. Due to travel and meetings I did not make all my three visits in the mornings, which lead to greater variation in the light. Most of the weird colouring in the images below, comes from my experimenting with the white balance, or rather, trying to learn how to adjust it, and using a piece of white paper to adjust the white balance for each image. The still photo, above, taken with the automatic functions of the camera, is all blue, and looks rather ”normal” conpared to my strange yellow colourings.

Tuesday afternoon:

Wednesday morning:

Friday Afternoon:



The two more or less public events of the ADIE (Artistic doctorates in Europe) project I attended took place in the dance venue Weld, which I had not visited before, and it seemed like a really nice place. Both of the discussions were titled What is in it for the arts? The first discussion focused on more theoretical issues and was rather interesting, but also depressing, since there is somehow no way out of the current situation. The second one was more calibrated to the dance scene with lots of students present, more confused and exhausting in its repetitiveness but in the end also more lively and energizing. Sometimes I wonder whether I would be interested in the discussions about artistic research if I would be a young artist finishing my MFA or MA today rather than in 1981. At that time, or rather in 1992 when I began my doctoral studies, it seemed like an emancipatory action for an artist and a politically important thing to do. Today it is often presented as a capitulation to the demands of the market, whether it is conceived as the art market or show business, the academic market or even the artistic research market… Well, now I start sounding like an old woman complaining, how everything was better before, so better stop here.

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Annette Arlander


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