Stavanger, Norway
There are 33 images in Dan Skjæveland’s 33 Suspensions, a book of photographs published in 2023. I counted because although the premise seems rather straightforward—a series of 33 photographs depicting instances of suspension—the effect is anything but. Certainly there are not only 33 instances of suspension herein. Some are obvious or even fun to notice: a balcony is a suspension of a built space, a dry cleaners contains many instances of suspended clothing on wire hangers, a clothes line suspends rugs in a way that momentarily changes a courtyard. Others are curious and tricky: a chair wrapped in plastic suspends its usefulness temporarily, but also it suspends light, by catching its reflection on the surface of the wrapping. A few are profound, philosophical even: a wall clock photographed through bits of refracted light at four seconds before 1:05 will never exist exactly like that again except in this photograph, which is time suspended. Many of Skjæveland’s photographs contain multiple instances of suspension, as in a room with wires and rebar dangling from its ceiling, embodying both literal suspension and figurative, being a place currently between purposes. Or when a school photograph of a girl appears taped to a wall in an emptied-out institutional space, suspending the girl and also the learning. Alas, we can only wonder who she is, and where she’s gone, and why school is out—the answers suspended indefinitely.
—Lori Waxman March 16, 2:36 PM