This Will Never Last.
South Wall - Installation documentation. 

Thank you to those who made it out last night, and to all those who wanted to, but for some reason or another couldn’t. It would have been nice to have you all there.

And thank you to the special ones. 

Tonight…

THIS WILL NEVER LAST 
A collection of photographs by Jamie Campbell

“When the real is no longer what it used to be, nostalgia assumes its full meaning.”
- Jean Baudrillard

I am often too embarrassed to start an Artist Statement with a quote; it seems off-putting, or cliché, or maybe just too much of a reliance on others. I think this project is very much about accepting and owning a sort of embarrassment that comes with sentiment, or that dependence on others and things, and situations – so it only seems fitting.

I’ve never really been too much of a sentimentalist, when it comes to photography. It is just the medium I use. A photograph can only ever be an image-idea of the visual it presents. It cannot be the thing, or the happening, or the space unto itself. It will always just be a photograph, right? That is, admittedly, a hard thing to remember at times.

When I look at this collection of photographs, I feel like every individual moment has been lost, or is a merely fleeting secret I haven’t wholly shared. Its reincarnation is there, in a haunting visual form in front of me, but these moments (contradictory to the mediums intention) will never last. 

Harbourfront Centre, Photo Gallery
235 Queens Quay w. Toronto, ON. M5J 2GB 
September 29th - December 23, 2012 

OPENING RECEPTION: FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 28th, 6-10pm 

My show opens tomorrow (Friday). 

These photographs will not be in it. 
Although, images like this may be?

http://www.harbourfrontcentre.com/visualarts/2012/this-will-never-last/ 

Team Squam Lake 2012.

I can’t think of much better than the simplicities of good company.
Especially if captured on 4x5.

Kai in the face of the flash. NH, 2012.
Both Serpent eyes, and Serpent Stache.  

I am coming to a near-ending of these photographs. I could only afford a scanner for an hour, and managed to weasel an hour and a half - so my archives of this place are limited. Maybe more will re-occur some day - but for now there is just a few more frames from Squam Lake, 2012.

The Joey’s. NH, 2012.
www.joeytipton.com + www.johannawarwick.com

You see that thing, or blur, or distraction in the top left-hand corner of the frame - it is the chin-strap of my Tilley Hat. It is sometimes part of me, especially there - I suppose it makes me part of this. 

I’ve always had a natural affinity towards the boys of the Kellerhaus. It started with Sergej, some years back. This year, I met Adrian. He was from Romania. He told me about his Nikon Camera.

Saatchi Online has created a project called, 100 Curators - 100 Days. Basically, 100 different curators from around the world choose 10 artists each to showcase, and they reveal one set a day, for 100 days. Thank you to Jon Davies, for selecting me as one of his choices.

Also, there is some strange Canadian negativity in the comments!
See here.

Mimi, Nh. 2012.

Her color that weekend was red. Even down to the tips of her toe nails. I am not sure what that means, or the connotation it carries. But her color that weekend was red. 

Joey, Squam Lake, NH.

It didn’t matter how many times we had gone through this process in the past - there is always a moment, right before exposure where she second guesses something, and changes her demeanour, and laughs. I let her have that, for one exposure, the one before this. Then I tried to calm her, I refocused, put in a new sheet of film. I waited, just a bit. I let the cold catch up to her, and her lips sink into this position and her furrow form. I let her look at the camera, and I pressed the shutter release only then. I waited for it to look like we had history.

chris boyne. NH, 2012.
www.chrisboyne.com + www.chrisboyne.tumblr.com 
 

In some situations, you can do nothing but take the light that is given to you. You can use reflectors or fills, or gimmicks. But a snap-shop, even with a 4x5, shouldn’t be that complicated. Sometimes that light can take away (even though it is a giving source), and other times it seems to glow and bounce and reflect nicely from every angle. In some situations, you can do nothing but accept it. 

A week or so ago, while in Montreal, and Concordia University (where I used to go to school), I found a forgotten drawer filled with some of my old darkroom prints. It was mostly outtakes, or tests, or pre-burn and dodge samples. The kind of images that need a touch less yellow, or to bit shifted in a cyan direction. You know, the little things, that make the most impact. They were the kinds of prints one might decide to leave, instead of say - forget. 

In all the rubble, I found this strange 4x5 contact print. It was printed on some slightly-yellowing expired 16x20 kodak paper that Mimi had given me. I remember taking it. It was years ago, in my house on 818 Rachel Est. It was shot on March 15th, my birthday. I was in a very nice place that day. I also saw Johanna Newsom perform later that evening. This print is a true testament to process induced mishap. It is beauty. It reminds me why I like this medium, and how much I have ignored that crucial part of it lately.