Carrion

Carrion (decaying flesh of a dead carcass) serves as grotesque statement on the useless and fleeting reality of traditional analogue photography and our morbid delusion in ‘consuming’ and keeping it relevant in the modern age. It likens the art form to that of a rotting, mouldy chunk of flesh that we refuse to dispose of despite the fact it has since become a husk of its former self due to the continual advancements in photographic technology/techniques alongside the eventual depletion of silver needed for its existence. Inspired by the chemigrams of Adam Fuss, which often showcase a ‘decayed’ like quality with his use of water, and Hiroshi Sugimoto’s Paramount Theatre for its expression of the ‘death’ of cinema through whites and blacks, I attempted to communicate the rotting of photography through experimentation of chemigrams, using thinly cut slices of salami and olive oil to simulate the imagery of mould and flesh, alongside pieces of cut, wet cardboard which were placed directly into the enlarger to allow for a striking contrast between perfect whites and blacks to be present on the prints, both steadily increasing in intensity as the rotting increases. The work was then punctured and hung by meat-hook.