We normally steer away from discussing the more arty-end of our craft here, and believe us, this time we really tried, but the temptation was just too great. But we tried. Please forgive us.
Anyway, there’s a time in every artist/photographer/conceptualists career when they wonder: “What can I do now ? I mean, I’ve tried to genetically engineer God in a petri dish, and then I tried to pass a new law of logic. But what can I do now to get attention ?”
Apparently, the answer starts with a quote from St Augustine: “What then is time?”. (Between you and me, I think the old pear-thief might have been new in town, not up to speed on the language, and looking for the answer “quarter past three”, but that’s by the by). From this, artist Jonathon Keats was inspired enough to try to try to photograph “time” itself.
First stop, Antarctica. A knock on the door of the US scientific outpost, and a request to set up a camera with a thousand (count ‘em) year exposure results in what Keats describes as “my proposal being summarily rejected”, or what we suspect more commonly may be referred to as “rolling on the floor clutching their sides laughing”.
A long, dejected walk back to San Francisco results in a chance meeting with the John Doffing of Hotel des Arts, who were giving over rooms to artists to create installations. “How about setting up a camera to take an exposure of 100 years ?” suggests Keats, after which Doffing – presumably expecting an answer involving something simple and painting walls – made a quick check to make sure that all sharp objects were out of reach and started backing away towards the door.
So, make a note in your diaries for 2105, when the grand unveiling of the photograph will take place when we will find out if Mr Keats has remembered to load the film the right way round.