Monday 2.30AM among high-rise buildings in the eastern, commercial part of Kista. Silence. Next to a quiet, empty six-lane road, a man is squatting. A police car drives up and the officers realize what's going on.
- Hi! Are you getting any good photographs tonight?
As a matter of fact I wasn't. The sky was boring and the mood wasn't right. But thanks for asking. Thanks for being there for us.
Half a century of creative imagery by Swedish photographer Gunnar Smoliansky has been summarized in the exhibition One picture at a time ("En bild i taget") which can be seen in Dunkers kulturhus, Helsingborg. Always in monochrome, often minimalistic compositions in soft gray-scales, sometimes grainy, he explores his neighborhood, conceptualizing everyday scenes in Stockholm. The same street intersection gets revisited time and time again, decade after decade.
This is artistic photography at a level I cannot even relate to. How could I? I don't have his talent, I don't have his technical skills, I don't have 50+ years of experience in the field.
Smoliansky has been dubbed a "strolling photographer". In my opinion, that has got to be misleading. Just because we recognize the street where a photo has been taken does not mean it was snapped while passing by, the way we do. Far from it. This man has spent a lifetime patiently awaiting the right moment, exploring what we don't even notice, carefully capturing it - one picture at a time.
- If it's one thing I can't stand it's having others within view while I'm working with a picture, asking what I'm doing - Smoliansky explains.
There, finally, is something even I can relate to! I so recognize spending hours chasing a particular image, wanting to be left alone while pursuing this strange activity. Now, whether you're an amateur (like me) or not, be sure not to miss the work of Gunnar Smoliansky.
- This is so yummy.
The cook looks at me and smiles. I shouldn't say that - he adds - since I cooked this myself but there's just so much love behind this dish.
He's an artist in his own right, trying to make a living in a competitive climate where not every restaurant will comply with taxation laws. Somehow, his words moved me. Pure, simple pride in a work well done. I wish him a successful year and many delighted lunch guests in the golf restaurant.
Bus 540 heading for Universitetet makes a stop at Råsta by the bus garage. Our driver will go off his shift and someone will replace him. Four (4) drivers wait at the bus stop, cheerfully chatting about this and that. One by one they enter the bus asking each other which one of them is going to drive this bus. Negative. They're all passengers-to-be, going home after a long day at work or just commuting to another place where they will pick up another bus.
Picture this: a bus with some thirty frustrated passengers, four drivers and no one takes the wheel.
Two of the non-drivers moan about missing their train connections in Ulriksdal. So did I.
Enter modern technology. The administrative staff in the garage suddenly receive scores of messages over radio and cell phone, each of them evidently emanating from this same bus. The administrative lady subjected to this burst of information successfully dispatches a fifth driver (the one who should have been here from the beginning) and he makes a run across snow and ice. By the time he arrives one of the four non-drivers has decided that enough is enough and assumed the driver's position. The real driver barely manages to catch the bus (as a passenger) when it finally continues from Råsta.
A minute later the garage calls to check that all is well and the real driver confirms that he has successfully taken the wheel. Which he has not, he is standing among all the other non-drivers at the front of the bus but now we're finally under way. And after a few more dare-devil runs across snow and ice plus the additional benefit of a two-minute delay for the commuter train I believe we all made it.
A surreal moment in the life of a commuter.
Meanwhile in a small house, life goes on.
Days are still short so the lights go on and off. One of them stays on all night until sunrise.
The house signals warmth and comfort in the coldest of months.
No doubt busy residents are happily pursuing their daily routines.
There's just one thing.
Outside, around the little house and all the way up to the small road nearby lays a thick blanket of untouched snow. Half a meter of accumulated precipitation is proof beyond reasonable doubt that noone has been walking to or from the house for a month. At least.
So, who are you kidding?
Swedish Commissioner Margot Wallström is stepping down after five years at the forefront of the European Union. (Ten, actually, but the most recent five years as First Vice President.) Prime Minister Persson appointed her and since the two of them are known to get a long about as good as... well, folks who don't get along terribly well... there was a lot of speculation about his getting rid of her from the domestic scene. Be that as it may, she has been a great Commissioner - effectively helping promote openness and as a side-effect contributing to a more positive view of the Union back in Sweden and throughout Europe.
Her retrospective blog post looking back at these five years got me started thinking about my own humble presence in the world of web logs. I started writing in February 2005, also five years ago. One key driver was an interest in politics from a conservative perspective. Finding your own party in opposition creates energy and a passionate urge to make your point. Then - all of a sudden and when enough people have successfully been making their points - your party is in fact forming a government! Not having PM Persson to kick around anymore plus the disillusion which comes from realizing that your party will in fact not deliver a lot of what you had been hoping for can effectively dampen the political drive and so I find myself now writing about entirely different things - or not at all.
My posts are few and far-between and that doesn't bother me, I have never accepted the idea that one has to keep writing constantly regardless of whether one actually has anything to say or not. Updating infrequently was a nuisance in the old days when the reader used a static bookmark and had to randomly probe and visit to see if anything had been written. These days we subscribe to a feed so anyone can see if there's new content to be read at the moment without having to visit first.
Now we're heading into an election year again and I'll gladly leave that particular scene to others. I may however occasionally have something to say about risk, photography or life itself. Or something else - we do change as we grow older, you know. So feel free to bear with me and stay tuned for another year. Have a happy one!
I've had the opportunity to study a bit of criminology during this semester. I'm aiming for a refreshing perspective on my home turf - risk and security. Sort of getting into the minds of malicious individuals out there.
Crime has been around as long as there have been laws but criminology in a modern sense is a surprisingly young topic of research. A 19th century Italian doctor-turned-professor - Lombroso - is generally regarded its pioneer. So criminology is young and maybe not entirely mature yet. Numerous schools still coexist and they each have their preferred model, trying to explain deviant behavior (or conformity for that matter!) in a biological, economic or maybe psychological context. Or even deconstructing crime itself into a haze of postmodern subjectivity: "there's no way of understanding an objective reality so let's stop trying!".
Not every theory is enlightening and some seem hopelessly obsolete. I'm amazed to learn that there are still Marxists around, for instance. But the dynamic mix of contradictory views, many of which appearing to be based on at least a certain amount of solid reasoning, is very interesting. To be continued...
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