Put the kettle on the stove. When the water reaches its boiling point, take the envelope that is to be opened and make smooth movements with your hands, passing the sealed flap through the slender stream of vapor. The glue will soften little by little. Do not cease the movement so as not to wet the envelope in the vapor. Then carefully open the flap, being cautious not to tear it.
If we violated the exchange of correspondences between two photographers, we would only find images in the envelopes. Nothing would be explicitly said, we would need to recompose the dialogue that was written in light based on a careful observation of the photographs. The exhibit Visual Correspondences proposes this kind of meddling investigation. But notice the envelope was handed to us semi-opened. Besides, is there such a thing as writing that was done without intending to be published? Even the most confidential letter, if it was written on paper, is it not presupposed that it will be read by some third party one day, when the old and forgotten trunks are opened? An email never deleted, does it not precisely intend to survive and be read in some distant future by some internet archeologists? Is there such a thing as a diary not in need of some snoopy reader?
Marcelo Brodsky has been breaking the solitude of the photographic work with visual epistles, establishing lines of communication with various other photographers, as registered in the book Visual Correspondences, published in 2009. For a period of two years, Brodsky established a speechless dialogue with Cássio Vasconcellos, speaking through digital images. One would say construction, the other would respond with a window and a landscape view, that would turn into a grid and then made into a square, which in the next e-mail would return to a window, inciting a change of topic, with an airplane window, that would then take the conversation into the topic of travelling, wind, sky and so forth. Topics of conversation are plentiful in this sequence linking form, concept, theme, color and deviations. In some passages, the photographers resemble two jazz virtuosos, competing with fast phrases in mixolydian at the moment of improvisation. Can you handle this? I can handle it, and give you more. It is almost possible to hear the laughter of challenge and the mutual admiration amongst the images.
The exhibit at Zipper Galeria presents eight passages of a long duet, eight excerpts of conversations, each composed of four or five images. What we see are not isolated photographs, but a set that forms the picture of a visual thought: the exhibit as a whole is a photograph of the language that Brodsky and Vasconcellos use amongst each other. In each sentence, one of the photographers launched a thought, that grew with the subsequent replies and rebuttals, reaching a point of conclusion. The complete conversation, containing over eighty images is also presented, in a projection.
With the consent of the photographers, we enter into the intimacy of a visual thought, created with polysemic word-images, in an exchange between two persons that presupposes a third party, the spectator. Just like in the musical dialogue of jazz artists, the friendly competition becomes more exciting with an audience.
Paula Braga