I’ve offered photo jewelry in my shop Augenblickphoto for a while now, but I’ve never really expanded the section.
Part of the problem is the materials (mainly brass frames) are fairly expensive which made me a little more reluctant to experiment than I might have otherwise.
Also, the jewelry never got that much attention or sold well, though handmade jewelry, in general, is hard to market.
I recently found a new way to make jewelry that I’m very excited about. I print my own photographs on white plastic and then seal the pieces with matte varnish.
The material is fairly lightweight but also thick enough to be substantial. I’ve been enjoying mixing metals with the pieces, from raw copper to matte gun metal to antique brass.
I’ve been wearing a lot of the pieces myself and love the organic look of them and the feel. Just like my photo stones, only a little better.
The photographs shown here are all pieces I plan to list in the next week or so, so please stay tuned.
I’ve driven past the Church on Hollenzollernplatz many a time, so I’ve always seen it looking pretty much like it does here.
I also just learned from Wikipedia that it is an example of Brick Expressionism along with the Anzeigerhochhaus in Hannover (about the only interesting thing in all of Hannover….) I most definitely have to find a time to go inside and see these stained glass windows.
Last Friday I cycled out to Charlottenburg to visit a friend. When riding back to Kreuzberg I passed by the church in the evening spring sun and took these pictures. Nothing like a little Berlin inspiration while out and about.
I used to have this re-occuring dream that I would find an extra room in my house, often rough and unfinished, that I had never seen before. Amazingly enough, I discovered just such a room in my apartment house earlier this week.
I went upstairs to pick up a package from the neighbors on the top floor and realized that the stairs went up further from there. Two doors were at the top. I knew what I would find behind them.
A Dachspeicher, a sort of unfinished attic room that a lot of (but not all) buildings in Berlin have though you don’t always have access. The doors to this one were unlocked and various boxes from various neighbors were stored there.
Needless to say, the light coming through the small skylights onto the unfinished gray walls was amazing. I will definitely do something with images there that will later be presented in Augenblickphoto so stay tuned. I just hope I don’t find too many more mummified pigeons like the one I found today. Gross!
When I was fifteen, back when there was practically no internet (yes, there was such a time…) I joined a pen pal club and wrote hundreds of letters to people all around the world. I knew then that someday I would live in another country and learn to speak another language. It was so clear and so obvious that I never doubted it though I didn’t necessarily think I would move away forever. But I’ve been in Berlin for 12 years now. My children were born here. My husband is German. I don’t think I’ll ever go back. I told someone recently about this decision I made at 15 and they asked me why. But I didn’t really have an answer. I love my family and think Northern California is one of the most amazing places on earth. Still, I was meant to leave and so I did.
Anyone who has mastered another language will tell you there are sometimes words that best describe something you would need sentences or even paragraphs to describe in another languages. One of these words is the German word Hingabe. In English Hingabe can be translated as devotion, abandon, surrender, indulgence, commitment, addiction…..One word for all that vastness. Somehow I feel the mask L’Inconnue de la Seine is calling for mehr (more) Hingabe in all its possible translations. I’ve photographed the mask so many times and lord knows I’m not the only person she has inspired. I’m planning on using words in some of the work in my shop, though I’m not sure yet how. But please stayed tuned.
Since I became interested in photography way into the digital age, I’ve always been fascinated with the concept of a contact sheet. In analog days, a contact sheet was the entire film roll printed negative size on a sheet of photograph paper. The photographer could then examine the photographs with a magnifying glass or the naked eye to see which ones worked and which ones didn’t. Of course, you can still make contact sheets on Photoshop, but it isn’t necessary in the same way it was in the analog age. A contact sheet was a photographer’s sketchbook, a way to choose the images which you eventually decided to print.
The French-German television station Arte produced a documentary series proposed by William Klein called Kontaktabzüge (German for contact sheet.) In the series, 30 photographers from around the world walk you through their contact sheets talking about why they chose the final images they did as well as some intimate details about why they took the pictures in the first place. You can buy the box set here and it will definitely be worth the price because they are amazing, with dubbing available in both German and English. Please also ignore the idiot who gave it only three stars. His reasoning was that you can’t present an entire photographer’s work in only 12 minutes. Well, duh. That was never the point to begin with. Some of the segments are also available on YouTube, to found under the search Contact Sheets Arte. Here is the one by William Klein himself: