Canadian Kitsch

LivinginaHuuryI admit Kitsch is not ever usually what I’m after photographically, but this image just somehow seems to me an embodiment of landscape sentimentality and it got me thinking about how we perceive images and how difficult it is to make something new.

I photographed the landscape (slow shutter speed and camera movement), and the duck separately and then merged them together in Photoshop. It immediately made me uncomfortable and it took me a little while to figure out why.

Here’s the thing; I feel like I have seen the essence of this image a million times in a million different ways over my lifetime. As though it holds the spirit of so many images (sculpture, painting, photography, …) that came before it. I realize, also, that the composition is imperfect and I think it adds to that sense of kitsch.

Most images echo back to the past in some way, but this photograph seemed particularly striking to me. How does a bird in flight hold so much meaning? And why does it make me feel a bit wobbly? I suppose it is the idea of finding that you have made something that has been made a million times already. The same , only different.

© Karen McRae, 2013

By Degrees

LateWinter1LateWinter5FringedFlowers2We are creeping ever so slowly out of winter and these pale robin’s egg blue tones seemed to have a little whisper of spring in them, (which I am craving today!).

(Water reflections of trees and frosted winter flowers)
© Karen McRae, 2013

it’s been a winter,

he said

yes, it has been
a winter

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The First Throw

The thing to consider about weeping willows, is that they are inherently mischievous.

There are many stories to support this thought. Tales of entanglement, trickery and enchantment. Stories also, of their wisdom.

If you lived much of your childhood beneath a graceful willow, you know the stories of wisdom are true. You will know, too, of their affability.

But, when you stop beneath a snow-laden willow on a day in late winter, you might be reminded of their playfulness. For the trees are awakening.

And while you are veiled in its beauty – when you feel encompassed and safe; it will start the battle then.

For what is wisdom, without humour?

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it’s been a winter,
he said

yes, I love that it’s been a winter

© Karen McRae, 2013

Flurry

The essence of a day etched by falling snow.

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BlurringtheLines_Snow7Similar to the previous post, these photographs are made using a slow shutter speed and camera movement, but with very different weather conditions and light.

© Karen McRae, 2013

Blurring the Lines

BlurringtheLines2Sketching the landscape with photography. These photographs were made using a slow shutter speed and camera movement. Other than some minor level adjustments they are as the camera saw them.

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BlurringtheLines3 Animate bar(k)odes: the data of the landscape.

© Karen McRae, 2013

A Deep Breath of Winter

ColdBlue1
ColdBlue4The water is restless in this part of the river. It pushes on all winter.

The ice tries to stretch over the surface like a cold blanket, but it cannot. The water persuades it to break apart, to keep moving.

The ice talks to the river with deep groans and quiet thuds. It rocks gently, waiting. An indolent heartbeat.

The river finds a crack, heaves a deep breath, and replies.

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ColdBlue7The river’s edge in -25c.

© Karen McRae, 2013

Winter Fog: The River

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WinterFog15There has been quite a lot of painting happening here the last couple of months. Brushstrokes and thin layers, glazing and blending.
Trying to find the essence of a seascape in a slow build.

The subdued colours of a day with a low sky.
A sky that settles like a whisper in your cupped hands.
A world painted by fog.

This is not the sea but there is a sense of it here in this river. An essence. There was a sea here once. It has left pieces of itself behind.

© Karen McRae, 2013