It's not terribly cinematic but Chris Killip is an engaging presence in his presentation of the wonderful photographs he took in the Yorkshire fishing village in the 1980s. The perfect length for this sort of thing and you leave feeling you have learned something.
Photographs are fragments of the past we can hold in our hands...a thoughtful eulogy delivered by the photographer as he moves through the fragments recounting the people and the experience and remembering those who - alive within the frame - are no longer so.
Interesting. Nice photography, but I wonder what drew Killip there in the first place. I was also a little bothered by the pics of Simon, who was taken out on the water to learn not to fear it. Killip says he's never been sure what use those photos of Simon are yet he describes one as being particularly poignant, which I also felt. Again, this makes me wonder what led to his devoting so much to that place and time.
Fascinating short film narrated by a photographer who talks us through a collection his photos taken of a small fishing village in England in the early 1980's. Not only do you get his insights into his working process, you also get details about working class life in the village itself. Like many other isolated enclaves, they were (are?) wary of outsiders and distrustful of those who would displace them for profit.
The photographer Chris Killip narrates a series of photos he took of the village Skinningrove. It's low key and short, but quite interesting nonetheless. He's a pretty good narrator or perhaps the photos are just really good at capturing the details of tiny village life through the faces of its inhabitants. Regardless, for the 15 minutes this ran, I was thoroughly captivated by it.
Their ordinary is our history, their dailiness is our temporal alterity: "Skinningrove" is an ethnographic account of sorts, although it doesn’t speak of a different culture, more like of subcultural ripples that shape a community’s physiognomy at a certain moment, leaving the traditional (read: occupational) base untouched. What’s intriguing is not the way the village echoes larger trends of the time, this is hardly
This short film expands and contracts through time, through process, in and out of people's lives and personal drama, through an artist's memory and plans for his work, through stiff fixed grain on a plate camera negative; to pixels on a scanned image; to a reflection in a computer monitor; to a back light image on a screen; to the motion capturing of Michael Almereyda more than 25 years after the original plane of