Here are Neil Bartlett’s accurate words (from an article written for the Guardian in 2005):

‘No theatre was as brutally or as elegantly in the present tense as Bausch’s, no women are more powerful than hers, no men more tender, no steps, slaps, looks or touches were ever as real’

Pina Bausch, a life in pictures.

No te salves | Don’t Save Yourself | by Mario Benedetti

Don’t remain immobile At the edge of the road Don’t freeze the joy Don’t love with reluctance Don’t save yourself now or ever Don’t save yourself Don’t fill with calm Don’t reserve in the world Only a secure place Don’t let your eyelids fall Heavily as judgments Don’t speak without lips Don’t sleep without sleepiness Don’t imagine yourself without blood Don’t judge yourself without time. But if in spite of everything You can’t help it, And you freeze the joy, And you love with reluctance, And you save yourself now, And you fill with calm And you reserve in the world Only a calm place, And you let fall your eyelids Heavily as judgments, And you speak without lips, And you sleep without sleepiness, And you imagine yourself without blood, And you judge yourself without time, And you remain immobile At the edge of the road, And you save yourself, Then… Don’t stay with me.

No te quedes inmóvil al borde del camino no congeles el júbilo no quieras con desgana no te salves ahora ni nunca. No te salves no te llenes de calma no reserves del mundo sólo un rincón tranquilo no dejes caer lo párpados pesados como juicios no te quedes sin labios no te duermas sin sueño no te pienses sin sangre no te juzgues sin tiempo. Pero si pese a todo no puedes evitarlo y congelas el jubilo y quieres con desgana y te salvas ahora y te llenas de calma y reservas del mundo sólo un rincón tranquilo y dejas caer los párpados pesados como juicios y te secas sin labios y te duermes sin sueño y te piensas sin sangre y te juzgas sin tiempo y te quedas inmóvil al borde del camino y te salvas entonces no te quedes conmigo

Writing is a process of discovery for me and, right now, I am attempting that dialogue chapter that seems to be the kernel of it all. 9,000 words of kernel, though. I learn what I have done through its writing, no matter how grueling it is. In order to do good writing (and this is all about a particular kind of good writing) I have to do a lot of re-writing. So not only I get the horror of the blank page, the knots in the thinking, the conceptual abysses where words are definitely not enough, I also have to establish a relationship with the writing, one that will stand many re-reads. If I get bored with it, so will my readers. If I am not seduced, tricked, tripped by my words, who will? This thought is specially compelling for me now that the external examiner has taken shape. I always wanted her, but thought she would not be able to do it. Well, it turns out she is interested and the pressure is on. She is a writing specialist (amongst other things), you see.

Anyway, my trick to keep my focus in my task is to work images in parallel to the words; to see as much as to write, and to think through both. It does not mean I talk about the images but the contribution to knowledge is definitely manifest in those photos. This is what I discovered in chapter 2. So here’s what I have been looking at closely, my double screen, my double mirror image. I recommend opening it in a new window.

Laura González. Valentino. Photograph, 195 x 73 cm. 2009

The show itself is about relationships, most and foremost, the therapeutic relationship. There are 5 patients per season, and we go through things with each of them, in the way an analyst may do and with the same draining effect. We experience the doctor’s countertransference, and his own need for therapy. For visual reasons, I suppose the writers have opted for patients not to lie on the couch, but rather get face-to-face therapy. The former may be a step too far and no matter how interesting the subject is, they have to make TV and rank in the ratings table… Still, I hope the complexity of the human mind, the tensions, the conflicts, the contradictions are portrayed as they are, with no regard for resolution à la House. Don’t get me wrong, I love House, especially in its similitude with that favourite of mine, Holmes. Its roundness, the fact that it answers every question about each patient’s illness satisfies me, although only for 5 minutes. Sex and the City characters, on the other hand, never got what they wanted and, if you could cope with it, the show actually had something to say to you, a delayed gratification which the film completely and utterly threw away. A shame; the Carries and Charlottes of this world, never get married or have kids, and fiction can do something to help us understand and live with that. I am looking forward to In Treatment just to see whether it goes House or SATC’s way. If it is the latter, I hope to be able to learn something about myself; if it is the former, well, we will still have Gabriel Byrne.

By now, you know I hate my birthday. I have always done so and every year, I go on a self-questioning journey, trying to find out why, to make amends. I have decided that this year will be different. I have a strange relationship to gifts, to presents, not letting myself be pampered and always wondering if I deserve it, if I will be required to give in the same way. I worry too much and I am not grateful enough. I love but don’t let myself be loved very well. This year, my birthday has reached its peak of spoiling-ness (no, it is not a real word but it will work).

Everybody is conscious of my interest in photography and is giving me related gifts. It is very nice to feel heard, paid attention to. My husband is giving me the best present, testing my ability to let go. I am dining at the most luxurious restaurant in Glasgow. I am also getting a magazine of my choice each of the next 12 months. Well, rather, 11, as for my first month I have chosen an extravagant new publication called Eyemazing, lush, beautiful, moving, but as expensive as a coffee table book. This is surely worth 2 months of my concession… What I like the most about this present is the process of choosing, which is a double edged sword of course. Where does one start with magazines, these days? There are hundreds, all with high production value, some with excellent content. This is a present I am going to learn a lot with. After I made my choice and got my magazine, I returned to the shop to browse more, to look again at some images that caught my eye. There was a Mark Abrahams portrait of Marisa Tomei in V Magazine, some incredible compositions in Exit, the always reliable Bon, and some surprising shots by Bryan Adams, the singer — who I very much dislike but may have to re-think as a photographer, in Photographie n. 45. By far, though, the most surprising image I have seen this morning comes from Art World Magazine. It’s from Vanessa Beechcroft, and just look at it:

It’s just because I have picked up a little about mystics that I have no use for mystagogues. Real mystics don’t hide mysteries, they reveal them. They set a thing up in broad daylight, and when you’ve seen it it’s still a mystery. But the mystagogues hide a thing in darkness and secrecy, and when you find it, it’s a platitude.

From The Arrow of Heaven, in The Incredulity of Father Brown

I have uploaded the paper Sharon Kivland and I delivered at last year’s Research into Practice Conference. In it, we tried to answer the question of interpretation in Art and Psychoanalysis, through a different approach to one expects in this sort of conferences. To me, it was a great learning exercise. Every time I read this it fills me with energy as I realise what it is possible to do with words if one is free enough (that refers more to Sharon’s contribution, but I am learning). It is my favourite conference contribution, one that I enjoyed preparing for and delivering and one which, whilst in the midst of a difficult chapter which I don’t know how to approach, provides me with a glimmer of hope.

The Deutsche Börse Photography Prize is being announced tomorrow and, as always, there are a couple of really exciting entries. Shortlisted artists are British Paul Graham, Saudi Arabian Emily Jacir and Americans Tod Papageorge and Taryn Simon. My money is on Paul Graham, of course, fan as I am, but I have to say that Papageorge’s work has really impressed me.

The pixel ration is not great, but I want to see how the enlargements work. After all, the most successful images in my last show were the small framed ones… My PhD submission will be an A4 book of images (with a twist, of course) so 6.1 is OK for the time being, saving me thus far about £300 which will get put into my next camera fund.

I have had it two days and have taken a fair amount of images with it already, most of which are far better than those obtained with my point-and-shoot. This is really a camera for dummies, so all I have to do is think about the picture. It is a real pleasure. And a light one, assuaging my biggest fear. What a delight not to have live view, either. Looking through a view finder changes your relationship to the image, as Serge Tisseron pointed out. It helps to conceptualise the world and understand it, rather than just represent it. Almost a mystical experience, one I knew about from using the blind Mamiya.

Here’s my first self-portrait, à la Friedlander. Bonus point to anyone who can guess what the background is.

I have been particularly taken by fashion photography, by its glossiness and its fearlessness, by the new language it has created and how it has seeped into the close-knit, inbred fine art world. I found it a breadth of fresh air, especially this show, which I saw on my last visit to New York. I even feel I finally understand Terry Richardson and the Vice Magazine culture! But Fine Art Photography has also had things to say outside of the fashion discourse. I might have been less observant (as fashion photography is all about seduction, and so grabbed me) but interesting things such as this have been going on around me. And then, there are the blogs: from Sartorialist to Belen Cerezo and Neil Scott’s FOTO, I always find inspiration in those pages.

Then, onto the title of the post. I want to commit to photography. It is embarrassing to think that everything I have done has been with a point-and-shoot or a borrowed medium-format camera. I know, I know, the camera is not important, it is what you do with it, but I feel ready to take the plunge into DSLR-world now that my least favourite time in the year is approaching and I may have some disposable cash (she says, wishfully). The problem is, of course, which one. The information out there is dizzying, and everyone has a favorite and an opinion. I am fed up with it, so I want to make this short and sweet. The shortlist is between Canons and Nikons, semi-professional range, moderately light so I don’t get lazy about taking it out with me. Remember I always carry books for comfort… What do you reckon? Do you have camera experiences you want to share with me?

And finally, not to forget what all this is about, I leave you with some images, which are what matters, really (even though none were, I think taken with the cameras mentioned above).

Dan Graham - Slide

Santu Mofokeng, Dove Lady #2, Diepkloof Zone 3, Soweto, (2002) Black & white photograph on Baryth paper, 70 x 100 cm

Terry Richardson, Skateboard P

Keller & Wittwer, I knew some of you better than others, but I miss you all (self-portraits)#2, 2007, b/w Fine Art Prints, edition 6 + 1 ap, 57 x 43 cm

Steven Klein, Untitled, 2008

Juergen Teller

Michael Thompson, Ruffled Neck, New York City, 2007