I stepped into the frame of fifty shades of grey crystalising in front of me. The falling snow wrapped me with a fresh sense of insulation. It felt far from being in a strange place at an odd time. More so, I sensed the gratification of my discovery. My eyes calibrated to read the scenery. Or was it rather a conversation unfolding?
The prolific winter landscape photographer Michael Kenna once said, that he tries to look for what he can’t see. That he’s looking for suggestions, leaving questions open. You know, not the way you usually are looking at things. And not the kind of glance you give your Insta feed. But the way you see yourself experiencing a view beyond the horizon. Being mindful about the fact of your reflection in the presence of this one vast canvas before your eyes.
As the Chicago School of Media Theory puts it, the gaze becomes a mode of interaction between spectator and the work of art:
“As the spectator thus becomes part of the spectacle the ‘observer and the observed take part in a ceaseless exchange. No gaze is stable… subject and object, spectator and model reverse their roles into infinity.’”Chicago School of Media Theory
As you enter the floating world you let go of the idea of embarking on a journey to arrive at a destination. Rather, you compile it as a journal of places less explored.
Ethics statement: This video was produced on my own behalf and represents my personal views. I am in no way affiliated with any companies, products or destinations mentioned.