El señor Martin…

October 12th, 2007 § 1 comment

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I am going to quickly take advantage of this unique opportunity. Timothy has me on his blog and I know I’m gonna get some hits so I figured I’d say something nasty about Martin Parr, quick!
Martin Parr was first brought to my attention after I did a story on “Windows of the World”, back in 1995, just before my son Raphael was born. I thought to myself, “I got it, I am going shoot a body of work on global tourists. They are so fucking funny, how can I miss”? I like shooting social conflicts and all that shit but I really like a good bit of ridicule in between bludgeonings.

Mind you, this was back in the days when if you were not a “concerned photojournalist” it was hard to be taken seriously. You know you had to be concerned and care deeply. Care about your subjects while you trampled them underfeet.Anyway, my friend Ed Kashi, I think it was him, mentioned: “you should look at Martin Parr’s work, you’ll like him”. I did and I was pissed, that motherfucker had stolen my ideas back in the early nineties. I had to give up on it and go back to being a concerned photojournalist. My one and only chance to be funny, and I blew it….. no, “HE” blew it.

As I was saying Martin Parr is one of my all time favorite photographers but lately his work has severely diminished in quality. His Mexico work sucks and so does most of his recent work. Check out his other work, from let’s say 1990 to 2000 and you’ll see what I mean. May be he is just going thru a shallow period or the lecture circuit has got him thinking he’s the shit. Eyes on the prize baby.

See what I mean go to his site and click on recent work and if you happen to disagree, tough shit. More weight to my bullshitt.

And BTW, I really don’t like Radio Head either, so be it!6.jpg

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§ One Response to El señor Martin…

  • Chris Floyd says:

    Jesus, how many times do we get the names”Martin” or “Martin Parr” just on the homepage alone? I couldn’t go on. The name Martin makes me think of a kind of maroon colour sock that men of a certain age wear under an open toed sandal. And I’m not even thinking of a Birckenstock here.

    I used to think Parr’s work was alright – it made it’s point bluntly and frequently. But then I went to a lecture he gave and I came out of there with the realisation that MARTIN PARR is a giant monomaniacal, airmile snorting ego tripping bellower of a man. In MARTIN PARR’s world. We just live in it.

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