robinsongreen68
Distinguished Member
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This must be the anti-Pitti. If the universe really strives for equilibrium, perhaps it’s some kind of necessary corrective to the ostentatious preening, the panoply of colours. I picture Synthese smoking reflectively in the mild lemon light, Florentine breezes teasing at his ankles…
It’s a stormy night in an unfamiliar quarter of south London, and we’ve passed under a huge echoing railway viaduct, trailed through a council estate past brightly-lit, strangely deserted pubs, all the while failing to find the venue. Natasha, the photographer, fears for the safety of her camera. Andy, Peir’s assistant, gave us a phone number that now seems to be disconnected.
When we finally get there – a brick warehouse down a dark side-turning we’d passed at least three times- stepping inside offers little comfort: a stark-white-walled and windowless enclosure with cracked concrete floors, it’s reminiscent of the east London and Berlin art galleries that appeared in the wake of the millenium’s first big market crash, industrial buildings colonised and given new purpose. The open space is broken up, disrupted by brutal-looking steel assemblages whose arrangement creates both boundaries and passages. Glowing floor-mounted light fixtures are a migraineur’s nightmare.
It’s a stormy night in an unfamiliar quarter of south London, and we’ve passed under a huge echoing railway viaduct, trailed through a council estate past brightly-lit, strangely deserted pubs, all the while failing to find the venue. Natasha, the photographer, fears for the safety of her camera. Andy, Peir’s assistant, gave us a phone number that now seems to be disconnected.
When we finally get there – a brick warehouse down a dark side-turning we’d passed at least three times- stepping inside offers little comfort: a stark-white-walled and windowless enclosure with cracked concrete floors, it’s reminiscent of the east London and Berlin art galleries that appeared in the wake of the millenium’s first big market crash, industrial buildings colonised and given new purpose. The open space is broken up, disrupted by brutal-looking steel assemblages whose arrangement creates both boundaries and passages. Glowing floor-mounted light fixtures are a migraineur’s nightmare.
Enough impressionistic rambling, I’ll let the images speak for themselves. When Peir has time I will talk to her about specific concepts for and details of the show.
Styling: Nina Walbecq
Photography: Edith Bergfors
Music: Lutto Lento
Show Venue: The International Picture House
Models: Max Lester at D1, Kristof Pituk at Premier Model Management, George Sagar, Pablo Walbecq
Hair: Takuya Baba using Kiehl's
Hair Assistant: Alfie Sackett
Make up: Riona O'Sullivan using Biotherm
All images copyright Natasha Bidgood 2014
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