Music for photographers est un ouvrage remarquable à plus d'un, mais plus certainement sans son titre.
thierry massard / 12 novembre 2021 - 23:15
If you don't mind, we'll now check together if this same sense of humour and self-mockery is applicable to the protagonists of "music for photographers".
After the now recurrent mention (yawn) of "a period of introspection, linked to the pandemic confinement, having allowed us another creative look blah blah blah ..." available on almost all the sound productions, eager to justify at the moment I don't know what self-centred perspective, let's linger, more seriously, on the real postulate of the intentional sensor, whether he is a photographer or an aimless flâneur, which matters so little. Translating the right incidence of things becomes much more important - the medium.
If this new opus of The Black Dog is an undeniable success, it is certainly and obviously not because of its title, a mediocre and insipid necessity of a programmable incarnation, the imperious need to justify an implacable confrontation. Here, the accuracy of the proposal is architectural (Norman Foster knew), and perhaps and above all, organic - to finally translate the amplitude of a separating chasm.
The solitude of a sensitive gaze, the silent fear, the cold pain of an enslavement to matter, blood, the pre-stress of cement without memory, dust (depth of future).
If, finally, the ardent and powerful lovers of Brutalism can only see in it the possible echo of an intra- and extramural fascination, they can also take up photography.
Music for photographers is a remarkable work in many ways, but certainly not its title..
Oh oui, c'est promis ! Pas de
Oui c'est promis, pas de
circonstances atténuantes ! si souvent exténuantes.