Lately I have been drawing again. I’ve always enjoyed the look of pen and ink drawings. There is something about the textural quality and details that I find captivating. With the time that I now have on my hands, I decided to complete drawings that I have been meaning to do for years. Soon I will create collages with them. Something like what Peter Beard or Horst Klem would do.
Crested Guineafowl
Smallmouth Bass
Giant Trevally
Brook Trout
Tigerfish
Since being stuck at home for these last few weeks I’m starting to get the itch to get back into a darkroom. Just before this lockdown I spent a few days printing and it was so great.
I have always fascinated the way people move through places. Having lived in various cities around the world, people commute in unique ways. This adds to the character of a place. Cities are different depending on the transport you choose.
In this series I explored this. I photographed all these images while living in Chicago. During this time spent a lot of time cycling in the city and sometime on the “L”; the elevated train transport.
While riding you are in the city. The sites, sounds and smells breath life into a place. Over time you develop an intimate knowledge with the streets. You feel the city's heart beat because you are its veins. Like being a red blood cell moving from wherever you are to wherever you need to be. And when you look around at everyone else, they are all the same.
Stepping into a train and the city remains outside. Especially in Chicago where trains are warm inside. Most of the time you are above off the streets. You get a different perspective. It's a voyeuristic experience to look at people below and into the apartments as the train rides past. I got these brief glimpses of people and places with out ever being a part of it. It's mysterious. I kept seeing figments of unfolding stories. Knowing what happened before and after the exact moment. I was witness to incomplete stories. I can know what happened before and after the exact moment.
The train stops. The doors open. People standing at the door walk out. New faces walk in. Some find seats. The doors close and the train moves. Its eternal. With this rhythm going all that changes are the people you share your space with. Their faces have clues about how their day is going. what people are listening to or what they are reading? Some people speak on their phones as if no else is around. It's fun to listen to the one sided conversations going on. Millions of people daily share these confined spaces and fleeting moments. It makes you feel like you are doing something significant, instead, we all are getting around.
Bruno Poco
Recently had the experience of having this image stolen from me. At first I was angry. I know other artists who have had the same thing happen to them but never thought it would happen to me. I didn't think my work had that kind of reach. I immediately confront this person and to his credit, he immediately took responsibility. We found an amicable solution.
A few weeks later and I'm no longer angry. I am now flattered. I love this image and I'm glad others enjoy it too. This experience has made me think about how we all create, share and consuming in the digital age. I can't imagine how many images I see daily, or even how many words I read, not to mention the videos I watch. I have never stolen work. I'm guilty for taking for granted how content influences my personal creative process. Posting work online and on social media is like being in a deep canyon. On one edge, many people see your work. On the other, your work stops being your own. It's instead thrown into the cycle of ignorant consumption and part culture online.
My pigeon photograph has now a new story. It's a stolen pigeon. I now I have renewed appreciation for real life objects of art and for the grind that goes into making it. I will now support creatives by buying content. It's the fair price for the toil.
A limited edition of this original can me purchased in my store. Here is the link: https://www.brunopoco.com/shop-1
Bruno Poco
Once is a project I photographed on film a long time ago while traveling through Namibia. I found these scans while going through an old hard-drive. I was taken aback about how good these images looked as raw scans. There is something about analogue film’s colour depth and saturation, as well as its deeper dynamic range. More than the technical aspects of these images, I’m taken aback by what they stirred within me.
I was young then and my brothers were children still. Almost all of our family trips were road trips and these images are a product of the monotony of the road and my day dreaming while staring through a car window. The Namib desert is a place where time has stood still. As the oldest desert on Earth and with one of the lowest human population densities, the landscape is seemingly unchanged and frozen in time. Human signs are ephemeral here. Footsteps last only minutes on the dunes and all other signs will all vanish too. These photographs are about a fleeting time in my life and of memories made and forgotten in a place where time stands still. Some things change while others remain the same.
Street photography hasn’t been my thing but walking around and capturing images in a new city was fun. I didn’t know what to expect before arriving. while exploring the city, I began to appreciate this city's rich potential. Beyond tourism, this city and it’s people make me want to return with my camera ready. I will comment more on specify images in my Instagram but here is my favorite images form visit.
