Timo Laaksonen The long distance photographer Photography is an art of the instant, yet often it takes a lifetime to make a photographer. After all, life's truly astonishing visual phenomena - like a fallen bird nest found floating in the night with fresh eggs on board - rarely enter our field of vision more than once in a lifetime. Considering that the photographer noticing the buoyant act of grace had his camera ready, with film, flash and fresh batteries, makes the lifelong argument all the more compelling, the image all the more captivating. Well, not really, but photography does have a remarkable penchant for witnessing all levels of the miraculous, rewarding the patient eye and patient life with silver chloride trophies that celebrate the mystery and significance of life. Some photographers take shortcuts, of course, exhibiting their latest works almost as quickly as the prints are dry. Rather than waiting for their vision to mature, they lean on the strenght of spontaneity. Then, there are the photographers - albeit in the vast minority - who hone their imagery over the years, quietly adding new work upon new work until a time comes to assess the labor; a place arrives wherein the fruits can be gathered and displayed. Such a garden - of once-in-a-lifetime epiphanies as much as normal everyday transformations - claims our attention in this veritable debut exhibition of one of Finland's steadfast, perhaps most forgotten of contemporary photographers. As this exhibition, his first in nearly decade, quietly manifests, Timo Laaksonen, now at mid-career, has re- entered the game with a vision that is sharp as ever. Out from stacks of glassine envelopes, out from bright orange Brovira boxes, come the foundation of Laaksonen's oeuvre: a 15 year retrospective of work. Coupled to these images from the eighties and nineties are more recent photographs, many of which were made at his summer home in Hirvensalmi. There are images of haunting beauty, photographs of erotic tension, of private worlds of martial bliss or childhood faith and reminiscence. A number of the images will bring smiles so natural we may not even realize we are smiling. Other works may cause us to cringe, to sigh, or even to applaud. Scandinavia is notorious for life and death struggles. It's as if nobody is born or dies anywhere else. In Laaksonen's world, however, hope and humor drown out the sorrow. Edvard Munch can go screaming back home. In one evening snow scene, for example, a gate swings open to a frosted birch in the distance, leaving no doubt that winter is here to stay. The second gate greets us with its radiant shipwheel, a sure sign of spring around the corner. Having your subject always at hand comes from being a lifelong photographer. A dock which remains unfinished in the fall, will be there in the spring, in spite of the powerful grip of the ice. Snow and ice often set the stage in Laaksonen's world. Backyard facades and fences are the backdrops against which trees dance, night fires flare into the sky, or ice daggers strike down to the ground. For years now Laaksonen has taught photography not only to the students at the Lahti Art Institute but also to stage designers at the University of Art & Design in Helsinki. It's no wonder that so many transformative and theatrical acts take place in his work. After a blizzard, an ordinary flower box transforms into snow-crowned coffin. Dogs chasing shadows, sauna sausages shedding their skins in the snow, frozen fish frozen forever. What equations. On the back of a fallen leaf, a thousand and one droplets create a galaxy of headlights on the forest floor. Or then, there is the fish gone belly up at night, caught in the throes of a battle already lost. The formulas that unite such disparate works can only come from the disparity and uncertainty of life itself. The only outcome we can predict with absolute assurance may be the stick thrown to a running dog. In conclusion, we might ask what creature comes half-way to the top of a pine tree buried in the snow, only to continue the second half of its journey with the same surety of purpose and direction. Hopefully, we will not have to wait another decade to celebrate those results. Arno Rafael Minkkinen

Back to Www-exhibitions