A beautiful and ongoing crowdfunded project about individuals living off the grid.
A few images from my most recent project.
Self Service is to be exhibited at ‘EYE film institute’ in Amsterdam the 28th of August.
It’s a delicate project about the radical consequences of the flaws in the dutch euthanasia legislation.
The entire project will be shown on my website arjenpoort.com when the exhibition has ended.
Florian van Roekel’s book ‘How Terry drinks his coffee’ was his exam project at the Royal Academy of Art in the Hague in 2010 and became an emediate succes. In 2011 it was taken in Martin Parr’s selection of the 30 most influential photobooks of the last decade.
Russian Photographer Tatyana Palyga photographed her own (work) surrounding, showing us the way she experiences the routine she is in. In a subtle alienating way she shares her insiders perspective with us. Reminds me of Florian van Roekel’s ‘How Terry likes his Coffee’.
I work in a sales department at a plant that produces soft drinks. My working day begins at 9 a.m.
At 9 a.m. I must put my admission card to a special sensor at the clock-house to witness my appearance in the workplace. It is easy to check up punctuality of the employees. A few minutes and I am in the office. I pass through a long empty corridor where all the doors are closed. On the walls there are pictures depicting giant fruits. I enter the room, briefly say hello to my colleagues and sit down to my workplace.
I switch my computer on. While it is being loaded, I move a frame on a wall calendar to the following date. As usual I count the days left until the week-end. I open my mail-box and delete unnecessary letters. Then I make some daily reports. I boil water in a teapot, drink a cup of tea.
Dinner time comes. The employees have the advantage of eating in a good canteen. A dinner is an outstanding event in the office life. If you manage to occupy a seat by the window it is possible to find out what the weather is today.
After the dinner I do a couple of phone calls, some Excel tables, and drink one more cup of tea. Once in a while someone drops in to chat with me for a couple of minutes. But not every day.
At 6 p.m. I stand up, put on a coat, say “good-bye” to those who stays at the office. Passing by a reception, I say ritually to a secretary girl: “How come you’re still here? It’s time to go home!”
Next morning I have to wake up at 7 o’clock. There will be a new day. A truly new one?
April 24, 2010
Rikard Laving doesn’t photograph normal lives, but those who appear marginally, on the verge of the frame and the law, where the desires are fired. Through recurring motives, he evokes the existence of precarious workers, the fate of an industrial city in decline. His work, although committed, doesn’t join openly in a critical social approach. He uses the daily environment in what it offers of more commonplace to think about the intimacy and the confusions. In glaucous ordinary of Council Houses or of Flatenbadet all-year camping , he brushes characters or landscapes so grandiloquent as poor in poetic dimensions. In this choice, we discern in Rikard Laving an atypical photographer who takes the opposite view aesthetic images of the contemporary photography, saturated by culture of the working drawing. It is a walking universe that invites the one who looks to penetrate into his doors, to surround its alleys and its inside in raw tones. A world seized to learn again to look at the other one.