The Momentary City (...a 6-Image composite) by Chipka
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Description
Some cities are the buildings and the streets that comprise their bodies; they are the hardware, the infrastructure, the stuff. Other cities are the people who occupy the buildings and make use of the streets. There are other cities as well, and the most elusive of them are the cities composed of moments: they stand on the shores of lakes; they straddle rivers, or thrust themselves upward from a flat expanse of desert. Some, it is said, warm the feet of mountains. There are those who are able to live in these momentary cities, and they are a rare breed: humans, undoubtedly, live whole lifetimes in the span of a single heartbeat.
I’m unable to live in such a place; life for me is a slow thing. It takes 24 hours for a day to pass for me; it takes a lifetime in order to live a lifetime. I am able, however, to visit momentary cities. I pass through them daily. At the start of a single step, I am aware of the birth of such a place, and by the finish of that very same step, I can see apocalypse, ruin, the shifting of order. I’ve passed through countless momentary cities, and in looking at six photographs blended into something nearly-coherent, I’m aware that I’ve probably captured six such places. I don’t know who these people are, who they were, nor can I locate the buildings standing so proudly here. I know only that in the upper right corner of this image, it is possible that the flag of such a city declares itself: the only remnant of so momentary a place. It’s funny how the only way to know such cities is to simply pass through them. They exist and yet they are insubstantial. “Permanence” is a word not embedded in any of their vocabularies.
*
There are six unrelated images here, but like the beginning of a novel by Clarise Lispector, there is a unifying factor. In her first novel: Near to the Wild Heart, we are introduced to the deliciously amoral character Joana. At the very beginning of that novel, we see Joana as a child, and as a child, she composes a poem in order to amuse herself. The poem, as little Joana tells her father is called “The Sun and I” and the poem itself is one simple, potent, sentence:
The Hens in the yard have eaten two worms, but I didn’t see them.”
…and that’s it. One sentence. “The Sun and I”, with one profound, unifying factor. And to quote Lispector as Joana: “The sun is above the worms, Daddy, and I made up the poem and didn’t see the worms.” In Joana logic, this makes perfect, profound, and moving sense. She is the unifying factor. She—beneath the sun—composed the poem. And perhaps, this image is a reflection of that sentiment. The six components of this image are unified, simply because I took those six photos, and I suspect that’s really all that the logic of this image needs.
Now, I wonder if these six images are the single image my camera captured, as I passed through six momentary cities. Maybe so. Maybe not. At any rate: here are my last six images combined into one.
The idea for these images came to me twice: first through Tara, who directed me to Mark’s gallery. I love the way in which that particular discovery works. It’s a bit like time travel: the inspiration of something is actually inspired by another inspiration. One act begets another, and another, and it will be quite interesting to see what else might happen, what other six-image images might crop up in the days/weeks/months/years ahead.
There is now a seventh image…it may see the light of digital day…eventually. But until then, here are the preceding six.
As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all having a great day/week.
Comments (16)
Faemike55
Very interesting and intriguing image(s) - do I call it one or six or a combination?
giulband
Great composition It give really the idea of caos in the city !
auntietk
First the tangents, because the order makes no difference at all. I love Joana's poem about the worms. It reminds me of something Bill said to me somewhere in Texas, I believe. I don't remember what it was, exactly, but he laughed, and then said, "I just told myself a joke I'd never heard before!" Momentary cities. Oh my. Having just completed an eight-thousand-mile trip halfway around the country in eight months, I can tell you a lot about momentary cities. They don't happen for me between the beginning and the ending of a single step, but in the montage and swirl of memory and photography. I can show you a picture of ... oh ... the French Quarter in New Orleans. At the time it was all of a piece. There was light and sound and scent. There was me hanging back too far taking too many pictures while my friends wandered around a corner and became lost and a clarinet played in the next block. (Or perhaps it was me who was lost, since they were all together. I suppose it depends upon one's point of view.) Later though, the memory is fragmented, and I can stack pictures of Louisiana in my mind in the same way they get stacked in Photoshop. Tall doors in New Orleans become superimposed on tall doors in Galveston, and the clarinet plays a song about Greek food on the Strand. Chicago is as close as San Antonio or Pensacola or Palm Springs. It's as close as Prague or any city in Agara. In that swirl of momentary cities, there is no distance and no time. It's so much fun to play off of what other people do, and I'm excited to see your take on it! LOVE the result! It has both depth and flatness, as well as some Escher-esque bits that give it a little surprise pop here and there. WAY cool! :)
durleybeachbum
Brilliant poem! I love that sort of brief work, less is more for me. And what a fascinating image!
kgb224
Outstanding work my friend. God bless.
helanker
What a beautiful image you got out of your six photos. Like reflections of ones memories. Beautiful words too :)
Kaartijer
I like to visit crowded cities, but not to live there, even if myself I'm coming from a very crowded European Capital... great work on this one!
flavia49
amazing
anahata.c
Of course you bring to mind Calvino's Invisible Cities...but you've read so much more fiction than me, and your storehouse of writing---which will inevitably provide you with so many references to cities---is waiting for you, wherever and whenever you want to tap it. I also love the little poem by Joana, and it does bring home the momentary flashes that make many cities a collection of moments that seem to be attached to deeper worlds, but which offer only moments. I do get that feeling from your image. Tara's montage is about very distinct mystical worlds, all beautifully commingled; you can see each picture in her montage. Mine is more a jumble which I then etched and carved to make into a single image. Maybe the least integrated of the bunch. (Too many cooks spoil the soup, so I somehow made a single soup out of it.) And yours is like your thoughts on these certain cities---fragments, glass reflections of many lives, all crossing with each other as if holograms intersecting in space. Tara was new to a 6-image collage (I've been doing it forever), but though you may not have done 6 image montages before, you've been doing images like this for a long time. This has the intersection of worlds, of images that speak a world behind them, of the mystery and darkness of city streets, of the totems of city life, their symbols and rites, the congestion and even choking-congestion of city life (esp chicago), the bursts of brilliant hue and shape, and so on. It's like a multiple soundtrack. And it has a very red and yellow tone to it. It's beautiful and in parts sad, a bit depressing in spots, and very jazzy and full. More powerful visual and verbal work from you, Chip. I'll come back for more, I always take more time to comment here because I need to spend a lot of time with each piece. But your return was a triumph for everyone who knows your work. And as long as you stay---however long, with whatever inspirations---is a blessing to everyone. And your comments are rapturous and deep and beautiful, and I thank you for yours to me. I'll be rereading them tonight. I very much appreciate your time and your kindness. As I do re the others you've commented on, when I've had the pleasure to see your comments. Great to have you back, and wonderful work as always...
Wolfenshire
Very interesting image, you always come up with intriguing stuff.
jendellas
Excellent & interesting!!
MrsRatbag
A tangential slice into existence; we usually see the world in terms of linear distance, forgetting that there are vastly more dimensions than we can even comprehend. This is one of them, more easily realized (though still awfully complex!) Imagine if you took the same kind of slice of THIS reality at a whole 'nother tangent...the mind boggles. Well done Chip!!
wysiwig
I am intrigued by ghosts, especially the living ones that walk our streets unnoticed by anyone. I am also fascinated by archeology. The idea of digging down through layers of history is probably why one of my favorite books is 'The Source' by James A. Michener. Your post combines both in a compelling way.
beachzz
Oh, city life caught unaware and off guard. People coming and going, buildings just there, motion, color, all in one time and place. Whew, this just ROCKS!!
danapommet
I am trapped in the fourth layer with the man in the white shorts. I will be back at a later time to transcend through the last two layers!
KatesFriend
I was first intrigued by the image of the running man and how he seemed solid and connected to the asphalt where we find the car. And yet they are still so ephemeral to each other and seemingly occupying differing time lines. The runner in the hot bright sun of the day while the car cruses through a cool early evening. Differing scales too, the running seemingly greater and more potent than the car with which he seems to share the road. There are other spots where, looking closely, there is contact between separate moments but looking at the whole they are all living in separate realms do unconnected things. So, they are all somehow unified even though they seem so separate. This reminds me of the book 'The Toa of Physics' which I read so many years ago.