December 16, 2011
Ken Schles’ fourth monograph Oculus considers the nature of images in  various guises: Images in memory and the use of the image as a construct  to define our personhood or to define our world, as well as the image  on the printed page. Oculus looks at the image as it functions  as a metaphor in all its forms. But the investigations we see here are  not idle or abstract. The root of this exploration, what gave birth to  and sustained these inquiries, was a deeply personal (and somewhat  troubling) set of circumstances. Inspired by the opening lines of  Nabokov’s autobiography, Sleep Memory (”The cradle rocks above  an abyss, but common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief  crack of light between two eternities of darkness.”), Schles made these  images of sleeping children and compared them to a kind of somnambulism  he was experiencing. He explains, “…the world, as I once knew it, had  unraveled. I still acted as if things were as they had been. I was the  sleepwalker moving through the bedrooms of these still and silent  children, all tucked in their beds. Eventually, I came to realize that  seeing is, in many ways, only ‘believing.’”

Ken Schles’ fourth monograph Oculus considers the nature of images in various guises: Images in memory and the use of the image as a construct to define our personhood or to define our world, as well as the image on the printed page. Oculus looks at the image as it functions as a metaphor in all its forms. But the investigations we see here are not idle or abstract. The root of this exploration, what gave birth to and sustained these inquiries, was a deeply personal (and somewhat troubling) set of circumstances. Inspired by the opening lines of Nabokov’s autobiography, Sleep Memory (”The cradle rocks above an abyss, but common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.”), Schles made these images of sleeping children and compared them to a kind of somnambulism he was experiencing. He explains, “…the world, as I once knew it, had unraveled. I still acted as if things were as they had been. I was the sleepwalker moving through the bedrooms of these still and silent children, all tucked in their beds. Eventually, I came to realize that seeing is, in many ways, only ‘believing.’”

  1. thisthattheother posted this