I tend to do what I do with a fair amount of intensity, and these past three weeks have been taken up with teaching. Consequently, I haven’t had much energy to devote to anything else — I’ve even found myself struggling to cram Japanese vocabulary, something I ordinarily always can find a spot for during the day.
It feels selfish to write that this is a trying time because we all share the same predicament right now. Still, having to look for employment has added massively to elevating my stress level (obviously, millions of other people have the same problem — which doesn’t make it easier for any of us).
At the same time, the teaching I’m engaged in basically constitutes the conclusion of ten years of doing that, with the end approaching rapidly. I’m not the type of person prone to nostalgia, and I don’t view the past decade under that angle. But I’m not an unfeeling automaton, either, so this has been a bit rough.
I’m very grateful for all the students (past and present) who have told me what my teaching has meant for them — if anything, that is what I will remember.
And then I’m trying to think about my first photobook and about establishing myself as a serious photographer (serious as in: someone who has serious artistic aspirations). I’ve spent a lot of time planning how to present the work, how to frame the work, how to talk about it… As every photographer knows, that’s a very difficult task that isn’t made all that much easier by my having guided a lot of students through it.
It probably doesn’t help that a lot of the background material I’m researching right now involves photography of World War 2 atrocities by ordinary German soldiers.
None of this should be an excuse for coming up a bit empty in terms of what to tell you about photography right now. When I started the mailing list, I was certain that there would be periods where this would be difficult.
I have become very accepting of my own creative and personal struggles. But I also know how in this day and age — where even artistic creativity is viewed through a neoliberal-productivity lens — admitting as much might backfire in strange ways.
Well, so be it. Wasn’t the idea of the mailing list to get around exactly all those things that make social media so toxic and unpleasant? Maybe we’d all be better off if we were more honest with each other: more open about our failures or failed attempts, while doing a bit less bragging about our successes.
Earlier today, while speaking with students about our experiences during the pandemic, I remembered a book that seems very apropos right now, Walter Kempowski’s Swansong 1945: A Collective Diary of the Last Days of the Third Reich. Obviously, our situation is very different than the one that’s dealt with in the book. You don’t want to read the book for any such comparisons (and please don’t read me as making such a comparison).
What makes Swansong 1945 so compelling is the large variety of voices. As the Third Reich is crumbling, all these different voices speak of what concerns their speakers, the large majority of them ordinary people. You’ll be surprised to see the range of emotions and thoughts — it’s a lot more complex and often mundane that you would imagine.
When I first read the book (in its German original version), I didn’t know what to make of it. I had expected to find drama after drama after drama — the kind of spectacle you might see in a Hollywood movie. But then I realized that we simply all react differently when faced with challenges.
Especially right now, it’s good to be reminded of this basic fact: there’s no one way to react to Covid-19, there’s no one solution for how to deal with it. This is not to say that we should all become completely solipsistic. But it’s not a bad idea to trust our own voices first, without judging it by what we experience from others.
I don’t think one can be compassionate and emphatic towards other people if one doesn’t bring the same amount of compassion and empathy to oneself. So yeah, I’ve been thinking a lot about compassion and empathy lately (which shows in this piece).
It feels strange to me to send out yet another letter to you without any pictures. I’ve thought long and hard about what to maybe add, but nothing feels right. I’m hoping you will see that these letters are more about what they communicate and not at all about how visually attractive they might be.
I’ll be back with something a little different next time.
As always, thank you very much for reading! Stay safe and well!
— Jörg
"...and about establishing myself as a serious photographer (serious as in: someone who has serious artistic aspirations)." Thank you - this amused me a lot. I'm really enjoying these posts - foregrounding issues with creativity and associated trials is quite brave. We can all be frail but best to be open and honest about it - as you are.