Ok

En poursuivant votre navigation sur ce site, vous acceptez l'utilisation de cookies. Ces derniers assurent le bon fonctionnement de nos services. En savoir plus.

Schlomoff

  • Portrait of Jean-Michel Basquiat - Already 30 ans

    jean-michel basquiat, schlomoff, jean-luc piété, portraitPlatinum print 40x50 by Jean-Luc Piété. Paris

    Lien permanent Catégories : Photographie 0 commentaire
  • INVITATION OPEN ATELIER - GUEST ARTISTE HERWOLT van DOORNEN

    herwolt,van doornen,schlomoff,angels series,open atelier,guest artist

    Jérôme Schlomoff has invited Herwolt van Doornen for a special joint exhibition under the title

    "The Angels Series”

    Herwolt is active as a graphic artist and designer in Amsterdam since 1977. Through the years he has done many studies in black and white. In this case it's about his so called "Angels" he put out since 2008. Starting with sensitive lines in ink, moving to sharp cuttings in black and white paper, a special series of graphics has grown, from which a selection will be on display at Atelier Schlomoff coming mid December weekend.

    Jérôme himself has, since 1993, challenged the tradition of portrait photography by aiming at portraying "Angels". The choice of the models, the quality of the light and the composition of the image together play significant roles for the intensity of the photographs produced. 

     

    Herwolt, who graduated from the Gerrit Rietveld Academy as a graphic designer has since contributed to, among others: 

    The New Yorker Magazine, the VPRO TV guide, Het Parool Newspaper, Vrij Nederland Magazine, Furore Magazine and De Poezenkrant.

     

    Location: 

    Label Impatience - Het Atelier Jérôme Schlomoff - Amsterdam

    Lijnbaansgracht 66

    Amsterdam Centrum

    Opening hours:

    Saturday 16 December:  17:00 - 20:00

    Sunday 17 December:    14:00 – 17:00

     

    MORE INFORMATION ABOUT HERWOLT

    Herwolt van Doornen's website: herwolt.com

    Check the portfolio: herwolt.wordpress.com

    Lien permanent Catégories : Atelier, Photographie 0 commentaire
  • La Ferme (work in progress - October 2017)

    LA FERME (work in progress October 2017) from JEROME SCHLOMOFF on Vimeo.

    LA FERME (work in progress October 2017)
    « A pinhole room somewhere in Morocco »

    WARNING
    This film is a work in progress for a film project about the "pinhole projections", with the choreographer Taoufiq Izeddiou.

    "Special thanks to Jean-Noël Schoeffer, Olivier Marty & Karl Fournier, of Studio KO, who have opened the doors of their farm." And Lalla Fatima Ezzahra Nadifi who was kind enough to sing

    Lien permanent Catégories : Film 0 commentaire
  • INVITATION - GUEST ARTIST - DELPHINE BEDEL

    OPEN ATELIER / YOU ARE WELCOME

    SEPTEMBER 23 & 24

    14:00 / 19:00

    LABEL IMPATIENCE HET ATELIER JEROME SCHLOMOFF AMSTERDAM

    LIJNBAANSGRACHT 66 hs - 1015GV - AMSTERDAM

    delphine bedel, stubborn cactus

    "Stubborn Cactus" Delphine Bedel.

    You are cordially invited to this Open Studio during Unseen Photo Fair. Delphine Bedel will present two recent projects: 'Stubborn Cactus' and 'Live Archive' in the studio of Jérôme Schlomoff, in the Jordan in Amsterdam. And Jérome will present 'Sténopé architecture: Le Cabanon & l’Atelier Le Corbusier, Roquebrune-Cap-Martin'. For this exhibition, the two artists will enter in conversation around their photographic practices. With their work, they question the role of photography in relation to cultural heritage, plant collections, and the architecture of memory.

    schlomoff, sténopé d'architecture, architectural pinhole, le cabanon de le corbusier, le cabanon, le corbusier, roquebruen cap martin

    "Le cabanon de Le Corbusier" Jérôme Schlomoff.

    Delphine Bedel is an artist, researcher and publisher, who's work is exhibited internationally. She founded the publishing house Meta/Books. Her cutting-edge publications received critical acclaim. Jérôme Schlomoff is an artist who works with photography and film. Building his own DIY 35 mm pinhole cameras, he films various architecture around the world. For the last 6 years, he collaborated with Maison Chanel on the legend and legacy of Coco Chanel.

    Stubborn Cactus started in 2013. For one year, Delphine documented the former Botanical Garden of the VU University in Amsterdam, that is threaten with closure. This academic garden is only one hectare but it hosts a unique collection of 10.000 plants and the largest collection of cactuses and succulent plants in the Netherlands, as well as centuries old bonsais. The tile 'Stubborn Cactus' was inspired by some of cactus quietly growing in every interstice of the glass house for the last 50 years. Playing with both codes of photography and plant preservation, Delphine purposefully uses all the technical flows of digital and analog medias. She transforms her vernacular colour snapshots into black and white, flat pressed plant specimens on metal, to be stored indefinitely as a record of the flora, a statement on the versatile future of the garden and its collection. This photographic series was presented at the Biennale of Photography in Mulhouse in 2016 and was published as a limited edition by Knust/Extrapool.

    Jérôme Schlomoff will present the photographic series 'Sténopé d’Architecture: Le Cabanon & l’Atelier Le Corbusier–Roquebrune Cap-Martin'. This little corner of paradise in the south of France was the summer house buils by Le Corbusier for his wife. The garden and the poetic construction reflects the intimate emotion of the nature of this simple architecture, set back from the world that plays hide and seek with our eyes.

    schlomoff, sténopé d'architecture, architectural pinhole, le cabanon de le corbusier, le cabanon, le corbusier, roquebruen cap martin

    "Le cabanon de Le Corbusier" Jérôme Schlomoff.


    Delphine Bedel will also present 'Live Archive', a collaboration with the designer Noémie Vidé. The series of paperback books is based on Delphine's personal archive as artist, curator and publisher. It's the first presentation of this long-term project.


    The exhibition will be on view for one weekend during Unseen.

    Delphine, Jérôme and Noémie will be present.

    more information about Delphine Bedel : http://www.delphinebedel.com/delphine-bedel/home

    Lien permanent Catégories : Architecture, Atelier, Livre, Photographie 0 commentaire
  • ILJA

    This 35 mm pinhole movie is a portrait of the Dutch poet Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer, filmed in Genoa, where he lives. For this film, Ilja translated and read in Italian one of his poem, "Idillys 26", from the collection "Idyllen", Amsterdam (De Arbeiderspers) 2015.
    The pinhole camera plunges into a mysterious visit to the city guided by the poet...

    Original music by Smooth One

    ILJA (original version - italian - without translation) from JEROME SCHLOMOFF on Vimeo.

    ORIGINAL DUTCH VERSION

    26
    Ik hang de druiven op. Ik giet de wijn erin.
    Voorzichtig, een voor een vul ik ze met hun zin
    die in de grond zal zingen waar ze in verdwijnen.
    Ik plak het vlees aaneen tot dieren weer verschijnen
    die loeiend uit het slachthuis naar de weide snellen,
    waar zij steeds aaibaarder, steeds strakker in hun vellen,
    de boterbloemen planten met hun gulle monden
    en leven voor het stelpen van hun moeders wonden.
    Met planken richt ik bomen op. Hun kruin zal ruisen
    van vers ontbraden vogels die daar zingend druisen
    om terug te kruipen in een rond en glimmend ei.
    Ik repareer het venster met een zware kei,
    bouw steden uit ruïnes met een paar kanonnen
    die projectielen slikken met hun loop. Ontgonnen
    gebieden maak ik onontgonnen. Verre landen
    zie ik verlaten worden op hun blanke stranden
    door reizigers die kruizen uit de aarde trekken
    en op galjoenen achterwaarts voorgoed vertrekken,
    gezogen door de wind, gebrand om te vergeten,
    waardoor de wereld groeit met almaar minder weten.
    En elke nacht ontwaak ik dronken van plezier
    wanneer de feesten zijn waar wijn ontstaat en bier
    uit gulle kelen die steeds helderder gaan praten
    totdat ik in het middaglicht door volle straten
    met knipperende ogen naar mijn huis toe loop
    en brak en misselijk ga slapen in de hoop
    dat gisteren opnieuw een mooie dag zal zijn
    voor vrolijk braken van miljoenen liters wijn.
    Ik ben bevoorrecht. Dat besef ik heel erg goed.
    Waar mensen moeten, is er weinig wat ik moet.
    Ze stoppen drollen terug in baby’s. Elke dag
    gaan zij verplicht naar winkels om een groot bedrag
    aan euro’s af te halen. En er zijn geen banen
    om al dat geld aan uit te geven. Onderdanen
    van de productiemaatschappij zijn zij. Maar blij
    ben ik dat ik mijn passie volgen kan en vrij
    ben om mijn eigen poëzie met wit te schrijven,
    met een vasthoudendheid die zeker zal beklijven
    nauwkeurig over alle zwarte letters heen
    totdat er niets meer staat, geen twijfels meer en geen
    verdriet. Hondsmoeilijk is het. Soms doe ik niet meer
    dan zes of zeven regels op een dag. Ik leer
    om te doseren. Af en toe lukt het heel goed.
    Dan straalt het ongeschonden wit mij tegemoet
    als blanke pagina waar alles kan gebeuren.
    En zo precies, mijn lief, tracht ik je zoete geuren
    te snuiten uit mijn neus, je handen terug te draaien
    die als een koorts nog altijd op mijn slapen laaien.
    Zoals ik vruchten maak uit stukgekookte borden
    en traag stroomopwaarts drijven de barbaarse horden,
    zoals ik liederen met toetsen kan verstommen
    en schitterende steden bouw met zware bommen,
    zo wou ik dat ik jou pas morgen had ontmoet
    en alles wat ooit fout ging, ging dan zeker goed.

     

    ENGLISH TRANSLATION

    26
    I’ll hang up the grapes, I’ll pour in the wine,
    until they’re brimming and tingling on the vine,
    they’ll sink singing into the soil and disappear.
    I’ll stick the fleshy meat back on until cows reappear
    that rush lowing from slaughterhouse to pastures wide,                        
    growing ever cuddlier and plumper beneath their hides,                      
    they will replant daisies with their generous maws,
    and live only to staunch their mothers’ sores.
    I’ll use planks to reconstruct trees. Their crowns will sigh
    with freshly unroasted birds on boughs, whereby
    they’ll crawl back into eggs so perfectly round and white.
    I’ll repair shattered windows using rocks to smite,
    turn ruins into cities shooting cannonballs,
    while gun’s barrels swallow bullets from old city walls.
    I will un-mine the mines. And far-off foreign realms
    will be abandoned to beaches spotted from the helms
    of the ships of travelers who pull crosses from the ground
    and sail backwards on galleons ever homeward bound,
    drawn along by strong winds, burned to nothingness,
    and you know, the world grows, as it learns less and less.
    Now every night I awake punch drunk with pleasure
    at parties where red wine is produced at leisure,
    beer gushes from throats, and words become sweet,
    until I stroll those busy streets in the midday heat,
    my eyes blinking awake as I go home without moping,
    where, queasy and broken, I go to sleep hoping
    that yesterday’s yesterday will be yet again fine,
    another day for spewing liters and liters of wine.
    I am highly privileged, I am very much aware,
    so little to do all day, while other people bear
    the burden of putting the shit back in babies.
    They’re forced to go to the shops and fetch crazy
    amounts of fresh-minted dosh. There aren’t enough jobs
    to spend that money on. They are the underdogs
    of our production society. But as for me, I am content
    to pursue my passions, to rewrite and re-invent
    my poetry all day long, a black not white obsession
    with a dedication sure to leave a lasting impression,
    carefully going over those printed letters one by one
    until there’s nothing left and everything has gone,
    no sorrow, no doubt. It’s a pig. Sometimes I do less
    than six or seven lines a day. I try to avoid excess
    that way, sometimes I manage to my satisfaction.
    But then the virgin white springs back into action,
    a blank page upon which anything can fall short.
    And it’s just the same, my love, as trying to snort
    your sweet smells out of my nose and dismiss now
    your hands that rested like a fever upon my brow,
    the way I craft luscious fruits from potted jams,
    and barbarian hordes drift upstream like lambs.
    It’s like the way I can silence songs with music
    and build beautiful cities using modified Uzis,
    just like I believe if only I had met you tomorrow night,
    everything that has gone wrong would go right.

    © Translation: 2016, Michele Hutchison
    First published on Poetry International, 2016

     

     

    Lien permanent Catégories : Film 0 commentaire