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Tombe
//Aaron Levy



Ed. 50 (handmade)
29 pp., 9 color reproductions

Velour paper cover, hardware bindings. Photographs by Aaron Levy; Interview with Kristen Gallagher.

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Kristen Gallagher: How would you respond to the idea that the building is its own corpse, a living corpse?

Aaron Levy: Yes, but I have difficulty with your use of the word “living,” even though it hasn’t yet been taken away. I think the notion of quietude is relevant: to me these images aren’t just quiet, they are unbearably quiet, they are hostile. Here you would like to fall into the images— you have the perspectival lines, you have colors at once warm and inviting, you have the elusive character, the blurred nature. But somehow they are being rescinded when you try to step towards them. They are rescinded invitations, or else they are rescinding.

To elaborate, the title of the exhibit, tombe, in French means fall. What structures every image in this dark, nebulous space is an opening. This rupture is the ground that takes the form of a grave. But for me it doesn’t leave any space for being. The photographs suggest a casket, something in which you put a body, many bodies. But, for me, there is no point at which this opening would appear to be satiated. And yet, I don’t mean to make of this an inexhaustible symbol.

Who would want to step into their own casket? Perhaps, in a rare moment, you would like to feel its contours. It’s an impossible limit to be conscious of one’s own space, a space that waits for us in the ground while being simultaneously in that space. This is the limit of representation. These images aspire towards – they are not, but they aspire towards – a photograph that is post-death, a photograph that comes after death.

K.G. Or else a photograph of the lost memory which photography is?

- from Tombe, pg 11


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