Darkroom printing
Lately my words have not been flowing so much. That is fine… Sometimes you just need photographs without much words.
Anyways… Here is a set of 4 experimental Gelatin Silver photographs, toned, and painted on. Sizes 14x21.5 CM.
Hopefully they will brighten your day.
9 grid matrix of different perspectives on “I will paint the moon for you…” in Gelatin Silver toned with selenium on baryta paper. Individual sizes of 17.5 x 11 CM total size of 52.5 x 33 CM
08:00
… is the moment in time where I look outside the window, and ask the sun: Is it time for you to wake up as well?
Only sporadically he answers…
It is strange though. I sometimes feel like the sun, but the more I think about it. 2022 made me feel more and more like that big fuzzy ball in the sky. But only the sun in winter times. Just like now… Not knowing clearly if I am ready to show my face yet.
My balcony window is steamed up… A beam of light was coming through. The light deflects a bit and scatters all over my living room because of that…
It is beautiful.
There is a saying that the sun loves the moon so much, that he dies every night to let her breathe. It makes me think... Is the moon sometimes sad about that? Does she miss him? And does the sun sometimes get cold at night?
After breakfast and morning coffee I pack my gear and prepare to go out and shoot.
I felt lonely and depressed that day… Yet I go out. Back to work, back to the grind… The places I go, the people I meet. All seems connected, it makes me happy. At least outside of the city… Each moment I am done and I finish up my day and go back to the areas where normal life happens the loneliness returns… I see a lot of people. Afraid, and always in a rush… That what strikes me always more when I come back to the Netherlands from a trip sometimes close by… And sometimes far away…
It makes me think of “The Crunch“ by Bukowski…
“there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock
people so tired
mutilated
either by love or no love.
people just are not good to each other
one on one.
the rich are not good to the rich
the poor are not good to the poor.
we are afraid.”
I may be thinking about Bukowski but it is conflicted by my own longing. I am more of a Johnny Cash person anyway, and his description of paradise.
Something was gnawing on me though… If you read about the photography masters, they sometimes mention that photography is a mirror. What is really inside is what comes out. And they way you view the world is a part of who you are.
I explicitly say part and not just who. Since so many things in life are so more nuanced then meets the eye. And a lot of humans are just not really one thing.
Maybe they were right. Maybe that is the reason why my photographs are always filled with melancholia. Maybe it comes from scars in my heart from they pain I carried inside for a long time... Or that I never had a “Merry“ Christmas. And the times they were Merry they were based on a lie. Maybe it is because of a society that wants me to be normal “because being normal is crazy enough” and I just want to be full of emotion and not being afraid to express myself. Or when I was a little boy my piggy bank was suddenly empty and a month later it was full again. Only to discover on a later age that was because otherwise we wouldn’t have anything to eat.
Maybe it is just me…
My day continues…
I have a coffee. I make my food…
My phone buzzes…
I could have swore it was from someone I deeply care about since everyone I regularly speak to have their own sound.
Nothing… No message at all…
I must have gone crazy…
The news is real and I read it… I scroll through social media… I see stories passing by about Iran and Yemen. An energy crisis. A kitty was also saved from a tree.
It makes me think that despite I travelled so much and learned so much. I actually know nothing. I will never know how it is to flee from your home country or how it makes you feel when there is a revolution is going on. But know that every time you tell me about it I will have a tear in my eye.
Out for groceries… Next to the super market Christmas trees are being sold. Yet it reminds me of a story of someone told me that she couldn’t take a bath because with current energy prices the costs are just too high. Do I get a tree for myself this year? My decision ends up in a “no“ and get a big ball of dough we eat at the end of the year, baked in oil, named a “oliebol”, instead.
I punish myself by working out a little bit longer…
I cycle home…
Go to bed, and when and I wake up the next morning all the autumn leaves in my head are making way for blankets of snow that cover my ever lasting thoughts and turn into a beautiful winter landscape…
Frozen… For now… Until the sun shines bright again and it is time to show what is underneath. My head could have been a snow globe.
It makes me think about love. What is love, actually? And why are we so afraid of it? I know what it is for me. Love is freedom. Love is support and letting each other grow. Love is not possessive. Whatever kind of love you are seeking for in life, love is about being whole again. I know that, and believe in that with my heart and soul. Maybe that is why it is so scary? To get what we really want in life…?
My breakfast consists of my favourite coffee and my favourite crackers. I take a bite, my phone buzzes. This time it was real…
The text made me smile.
Time to go… Time to head out… Time for the grind… To work on that photographic dream. To express myself.
It was a beautiful foggy day in the Netherlands and the fog fell over the landscape like a magical cloud with treasure hidden inside it.
It was a good day. Cold, but good.
When I got home I started writing as well… This piece…
It makes me think about that I want to write a poem… I grabbed my typewriter and set it up on my living room table… A paper is inserted in the machine… I love this paper… Grain and structure are present all over. It is perfectly imperfect… Just like me. Just like you…
I write down the words…
“i am the story of a human being
I am the wound of time
I am falling rain…”
I pause… Is it done…?
Yes…
It is done…
Happy new year and a amazing 2023…
And isn’t art beautiful?
~ Cristian
P.S. Thank you every one that made my year amazing again. You are always in my thoughts and in my heart. You know who you are. You are the ones I feel safe with. My friends and my dearest. <3
Thank you Anna-Patricia for finding me. It is beautiful to have an amazing and super sweet gallery director in your life.
Thank you Fotovakhuis for supporting me and being my second home.
And thank you everyone that always follows my adventures. 2022 was amazing. But I promise you… There are plenty of more adventures to come. And I will hopefully will finish the project I am working on soon. Good things just take time… Just keep checking in on me… And I will do the same with you.
With all my love…
Thank you…
Me working snapped by other Chris.
Signing session at the ºCLAIRbyKahn booth at Paris Photo 2022.
Expired Agfa Record Rapid paper from somewhere late 80’s begin 90’s. I started with a proof of concept a month a go and wanted to make everything perfect before I started printing for real. It is the only box I had and this paper is not being made anymore. Expired paper is not only difficult to work with both also there are tonal shifts that can be aesthetically pleasing. I wanted to finish this idea this year. It may not be a conventional way of silver gelatin printing, but projects like this help make me become a better printer in general and it also helps me thing outside of the box.
Size 72cm x 53,4 cm. Edition of 1.
Happy New Year from my little place of magic…
The radio is on…
At least that what we have said years and years ago… But it is just regular old Spotify. No LP’s today.
Fairuz is playing. She is a Lebanese singer which I have just discovered this morning. What a beautiful voice she has. It reminded me of more beauty that I know, so I send it to her…
It also reminded me that I needed to write a little bit again. A sort of a update. Or a story. A glimpse of my mind. A question. A observation. Or maybe all of the above… Just look at it as a diary entry…
Unfortunately writing blog posts is not as romantic as writing a journal. And years and years after I have died my journal is the thing most likely to be found. And not my blog.
Does it matter anyway?
Everything matters…
All of it. All the little bits and pieces in between matter. I love writing. And who knows who is reading this and is interested what goes on in the mind of a artist.
I think I am not really made for creating YouTube videos. And if I would ever do that. I think it is way more important to talk about the art and philosophy of photography instead of gear. And that is all what you see nowadays. Anyways, writing seems just more fitting for me.
So here it is. More writing. Are you ready for the copious amount of text?
I sure am…
Writing sometimes takes me days though. And I don’t know how many days it will take me to finish this story. You can guess more than a few…
There once was a pandemic…
If I look outside the world almost looks like normal again but strangely it isn’t… Borders are opening up in Europe which is nice. So will it be finally time for me to take another trip? I hope so… But where will it be… I want to work more on my current projects. Or maybe even start a new one in a place where I have never gone before. Traveling I miss so much! That is no secret… The places where I want to go are outside of Europe. And they are either still in lock-down now. Or not taking any visitors.
Just be patient, Cris. It will be fine…
Although as a individual I am not afraid of the virus. There are still many things to take into account though.
But again… As I look outside…. The world seems normal again…
But it isn’t…
There is still a pandemic going on…
Do we ever learn…
The pandemic did made me realize it was finally time to start a photo essay about my father. But if you want to read more about that… You need to read just a little bit more of this story.
So in a way “I” learned. Finally a project which I really care about back-home. Finally a project back-home that I love.
And like I always say: Love is the one thing one needs to succeed. And it doesn’t matter what it is… If there is no love. It will not succeed.
But when I look around me. And when I observe as what photographers are supposed to do. Unfortunately I see a lack of love.
That sounds dark. But life is dark. Without darkness there cannot be light. But no worries. I will end with some happiness in the end… Well… Sort off…
It is the ying to the yang. Or the, as above to the, so below.
Countless and countless of humans still chose the life in between. Old patterns. Afraid to take chances. And trying to clinch on to the old.
It should have been a teachable moment….
One would think that something as humongous as a global pandemic would made as change the way we are. But saying it like a Dutch man. We hebben geen reet geleerd. (We didn’t learn shit.).
Still always in a hurry…
You can see it by the traffic lights. It is a prime example how to deal with things. Not waiting for the green. Because one thinks that he or she is so special it doesn’t apply to them.
The human ego what constructs that is also responsible for more extreme things. Because it is always looking to bend it a little bit more…
In the end it is responsible of war and famine. Injustice and racism. And even the whole cancel culture which I despise to the core, is a result of it.
Why do we keep hurting ourselves…
So is the human ego to blame for it all? I don’t know… I philosophize about it a lot. And it also seems that patterns are a big part of it.
Patterns. Nature… Nurture…
It is the reason I guess why people keep stuck in relationships that doesn’t give them happiness. Or keep doing their dead-end job. It is safe. It is everything one knows…
And change is scary…
Yes. Even for me…
And even more so. Change hurts…
A lot!
A pandemic should be the catalyst to finally make the changes we need. From a micro level in ones personal life. To a macro level for the entire globe.
There is some change going on as you can see with all the protest because of the death of George Floyd. But will it be enough? I hope so. But you also see that with every movement there are a lot of people being taken advantage of. Or being used as puppets for another agenda. But that is something that has been going on forever and noticed since I have been studying history books.
Let’s just hope it is all enough. But the main thing is one needs to discover nuance. Life I guess is a lot like Ilford Delta 400. Between black and white there are so many different shades of grey…
Life should be like a movie…
I wish everyone the happiness they deserve in their lives. Whatever that means for them. And the hopeless romantic in me, if he had a magic wand. He would give it to everyone around the globe… I would wave with my wand and say: Hope you find your soulmate. Or smoke your cigar on that yacht if that is your thing. Or ride your motorcycle. Or find that special coffee. Or supermarkets without lines. Or your cabana at the beach.
But that is not how it works…
You are responsible for your own happiness. And that takes a lot courage…
Years and years ago. Or maybe even when I was a little kid I decided for myself that my life deserves to be like a movie. I always had a overactive imagination. I love that so much in me. Is that a weird thing to say? But yes, it indeed involved finding the love of my life. Traveling the world. And telling amazing tales…
So would that be the cure for the world? Living your life like in the movies?
A horror movie would not be a good idea though haha. Just make it a nice one…
But will you promise me to take that chance?
Life is too short not to.
Don not fade away…
Cris! Will you finally tell the part about the project of your dad!
Calm down… Calm down…
It is my story… My journal… My movie…
So behind this keyboard. Or with my pen or camera. I make the rules…
A flying snowman…
So here it goes…
I had a conversation with my sister a couple of weeks back. And we came to the conclusion that we have nothing left of our father. The reason of that I will keep that to myself. But it was heartbreaking for me and my sister nonetheless.
So I had a idea when I was taking a shower. And the idea was that this story could be like a movie too! And I knew the perfect one…
Ever since I was little I was fascinated with a short movie of a flying snowman. Literally called “The Snowman“. I linked the name to the Wikipedia page. And here is a link to the clip of the song “Walking in the air“.
I think most of you who are around my age and grew up in my part of the world are familiar with this song. You may not know it by title. But I bet as soon as you hear the first words you will remember it instantly.
It is the story about a little boy who meets a snowman and goes on a amazing adventure in the night. And flies aaaaalllll over the snowy country side… Meets his snowman friends and plenty of more creatures. But when he wakes up the next morning…
His best friend in the world…. Melted…
The most toughest task ahead…
My father died when I was three years old. I do not have many memories of him. I remember his funeral and how his casket disappeared into the ground vividly. But despite not having to many memories, in my imagination he was my best friend in the world.
So I am creating the memories I have never had with him. We go on a adventure and meet also plenty of beautiful creatures.
It is going to be very conceptual so that is totally new for me. And therefore a challenge. But I am sure I will succeed because it is made out of love. Also it is going to be a very emotional project for me. But that is good. Some parts of me still need to heal. And confronting it is the only way.
And of course it couldn’t be anything else then a adventure. I mean, all of my fathers. My father and my grandfathers were all adventurers. And so am I!
It is going to take a while…
When will it be done… I don’t know… Good photographic projects take a while. And nowadays people think a project that takes three months is long… I can tell you, that is not long… Salgado or Peter Beard would not shy away from years and years of work…
In the world of instant gratification the long term photographic essay seems forgotten. But it is the only way to make a piece of art that will last for generations ahead.
So it will be done when it is done. And when that time has come I will share it with the world. Some people close to me may see sketches. But that is it.
Isn’t it exciting to see a project when it is done instead of all the updates or shots on Instagram? The surprise we be bigger that way. It makes you stare longer at a photograph. Otherwise it will be lost in the abyss in a second… Because it is not new anymore…
Art is made to be experienced in real life anyway…
And maybe…. Just maybe….
Life is to be experienced in real life anyway….
A end to a story… For now that is…
I like drama. I like dramatic movies… Or books… Or music…
The whole feeling of melancholy gives a experience of a beautiful suffering.
I will link the Fairuz songs at the bottom of the post plus one bonus. And two photographs.
But how to end…
To keep it full of drama… A while back I finished a book named “The Memory Police“ bu Yoko Ogawa. She is a amazing writer. And if you don’t like spoilers don’t read further… Because this story may sort of end the same way…
Me. Cristian Geelen… Sitting here with his laptop… Camera next to him.
Writing about love and life… A pandemic…
And slowly he disappears…
First his hands… Than his nose…
His arms and legs…
His lips and his eyes followed…
Until there is nothing left but his voice and his camera…
And even that…
Is what the wind took away…
~ Cristian
The song of Fairuz I was talking about.
This one is bonus because I think it is super beautiful too.
Mini me and my awesome doggie name Ricky. He would protect me from all the evil in the world.
Adult me with his trusty Nikon. Able to squat a horse and about to rip his pants again. Waiting until he can go on adventures…
Hey all,
I already put this message up on Instagram. But if you read it here instead, all kudos to you.
I have put some new prints in my web shop ready to be sold.
All of those prints are made on Fomatone warmtone fiber archival paper and hand printed by the artist. Me.
Blood, sweat, and tears in the darkroom. So this is not CTRL+P work.
Also they are signed and dated.
Shipping can be done worldwide and will be send with tracking.
So if you are interested. You can find the print section here.
Small side-note:
Somehow I find this important to mention…
I know they seem expensive. But actually they are under-priced.
With all the images on the internet and mainly platforms like Instagram, it seems a little bit lost on why a print cost what they cost. And even prints made from digital files take a lot of work.
You have of course not only the craftsmanship where you pay for. People have dedicated a huge portion of their lives on perfecting it. Travel costs. Cost of material. Artists have to pay taxes too. Etc etc etc…
The end resultant is a product that will last multiple lifetimes…
That is it for now…
And hope everyone is safe in this crazy world at the moment.
~ Cristian