This Photography book consisted of
A Flexural Tree in Memory;
Glow and Tanned Dusk;
The Color of Pomegranate;The Cement Garden;
The luna Sunk Into the Fog,Unable to Escape.
It is published by Nanjing University Press,with a total of 174 pages.
Preface:The Melting Point of Body and Soul
I know almost nothing about the girl whose pen name is Uchercie this is quite dangerous to say - because at different moments, when looking at her photographs, I feel as if I know everything about her, and I see in her works the rich life experiences of humanity. Her distinct photographs, whether they be about nature, cities, life, or stories, give me a strong sense of close detachment from life. In its “closeness” she maintains the faithfulness of documenting reality, but in its “detachment“ she opens a door to a poetic space behind the images. It is because of this great poetic nature that I am able to pick up my pen and write a few courageous words on her behalf.
From this point of view, her photographic works, since they are print, feel existent, but also have a perception of being three-dimensional; it is both a simple and pure existence, yet a contradiction of this existence. The “complexity behind the door” rushes onto the paper, enchanting the viewer.
In the series of works entitled “Nacktpflanze”, I see images of a girl’s nude body under the bright or dim light, ample breasts and butterflies or a girl braiding her hair, but my emotions lie in the unseen and entangled minds’ eye of these women: a feeling of repressed lust, mood, and emotions, swimming with force. Once while reading a poem from Paul Celan, I stumbled upon this word “nacktpflanze.”
In another series of photos entitled “Imaginary Club,” the hallucinogenic images view like a psychodrama film: a naked man and woman tangled on top of a metal framed bed, a cup of chemical reactants balanced on a female body, the face of a girl silently lost in memory, shot in the quick flash of a bright light, a reclining woman seemingly suspended in air. This series’ strong impact of modernity and visual composition engage with the viewer‘s evolution of thought; the silent space that opens just after the seeing the photograph, forming an interaction with the viewer’s imagination, mutually promoting its dynamic aesthetics.
Yes, distinct works are never in a finished state, but rather the works are completely open, forever waiting for the next viewer to become deeply and emotionally involved. Through her lens, those empty chairs captured in a wasted garden connect to our own memories of a familiar setting, quietly waiting for us to sit amongst them again. Yes, in certain situations, we are not the merely the viewers of photographs shot through Uchercie’s lens, we are the yet to be captured subjects of her camera.
To preserve the pure identity as a viewer, I didn’t talk with Uchercie about any of her creative ideas before I wrote this text. Only her photographs and my interpretation, or to be exact, my misunderstandings, fill the gap between the two of us. In previous articles, I repeatedly state a point of view: a creation’s misunderstanding and ambiguity and even the author’s vision, are no match for the new space that it creates.
“The Color of Pomegranate” series is filled with the pure breath of death. Each person that stands here, their body still ebbs and flows with life, but what I feel is death: the kind of death that brings a breath of warm memories, nothing fearful. I see their past before they die. They are a group of people hollowed out of time.
Another series, “Autumn’s Breast” contains photographs with a composition and tone that possess a Monet-like quality: water reflections of grandiose trees and duckweed and wild nymphs forlornly floating on a lake, alludes to a poem by the famous Chinese poet Li Bai. Sorrow filled with charm and time’s complexity of indescribable things.
I’ve also seen a few of Uchercie’s paintings, and they are even more ferocious than her photographs, but I won’t discuss them here. I look forward to cntinously seeing her “new self.”
on June of 2015 emerald lack