under the sky

Mihail Novakov&rsquo;s photographic approach carries signifiers and elements of commercial photography - with its brightcolours, hard shadows and usage of flash. The aesthetic of the images carry and sell feelings and desires. Theadvertising industry has borrowed from different styles and movements across art history to serve a primarilycapitalist function. Novakov inverts this phenomenon and applies his skill in commercial projects to hisartistic practice, documenting the peculiar moments of everyday reality. Dissecting them through the critical lens ofhis camera, the objects he photographs are stripped down from their utility and are transformed into fetishised,kitschy versions of themselves. As viewers, looking at these highly stylised images it becomes hard to distinguishwhether what we see before us is genuine or staged, whether it is reality or a simulation. In a humorous and wittyway, the artist makes us question the role of photography in constructing the images that shape our reality, guiding usto unsee, only to be able to see anew.

learning to unsee

cyclique

 Mihail Novakov captures this moment and calls it the “Sweet and Sour Hour”.


This is the moment of the ugly sour environment of rapid change, the moment of the sweet nap, a pause in which the line between object and subject is blurred because everything is intact creating one eclectic landscape. At this frozen moment, space bends and time almost stops. There is no action, no emotion, just the melancholy of expectation. In this found environment people become objects, and objects become sculptures: a piece of art in the lens of the photographer. Like the growing trend of slow food (as opposed to fast-food), in the world created by Mihail we stop, take a deep breath, and start over, this time consuming slowly, situation after situation. These are the moments that Mihail captures when he traveled to China. 

We see the same stolen moments in the sour Bulgarian reality, where, as in the Asian scenes, the beauty of the absurd is no less present and the sweetness of the nap is the same. It is at this point that we can think about where we are going, what and whom we are catching up with and should we be in such a hurry? Or to bend into space and forget about everything, to steal this moment of melancholy for ourselves and capture its beauty.


Curator: Martina Stefanova

sweet and sour hour

Vaska Emanouilova Gallery, 07.03. - 01.04.2012
Curators: Georgy Bogdanov / Boris Missirkov

Misho Novakov is like an extraterrestrial that has landed on the Earth and by sheer force of circumstance has found itself in Bulgaria, among skaters, DJ’s, hipsters and casual idlers. His observation apparatuses – most of them semi- amateur cameras which break easily but are quickly replaced – register everything they come upon, no matter beautiful or ugly, important or unimportant, on or off focus. At first glance, the chaos is complete but gradually the different frames build up a very curious – and beautiful – documentary picture. A narration about a group who couldn’t care less about local politics but is yet quite at terms with current trends worldwide and would probably look almost the same in any European, Asian or American metropolis. The global lifestyle, or, at least the idea of it, together with the local background comprising crumbling residential blocks from the 70's, half-finished beach hotels and Bentleys stir up a weird mix. It is before our eyes every day, indeed, but has come to be so casual we hardly notice it. The absurd scenes of the trashy surroundings are not an aesthetic problem for Misho or for the protagonists in his photos, these are just part of the environment but they do not prevent those people from having fun. A cheerful endless theatre which at times whiffs off an end of the world feel - but it might be as well just a way to enjoy self and life.

The photographs of Misho Novakov are based on a richly developed tradition of the colourful, almost kitschy documentary observation of everyday life nonsense, established by Martin Parr back in the 1980’s. What sets the images in this exhibition apart from the multitude of photo-blogs online is the sincere curiosity about the world around, the slight degree of irony towards the environment and the self, and an eye for the beauty of the absurd. The pleasure of shooting film is also part of the game – the patience to wait for days or weeks before you are able to see the images and the surprise of re-discovering them are a process totally different from the snap self-affirmation of digital image. This game continues in the exhibition hall – the mechanical click of the Kodak slide projector acts as a metronome that should bring a bit of order in the chaos.

Bogdanov/Missirkov
