The Anna Polke Foundation scholarships are now entering their sixth year. Supported research projects include those by scholars in the field of art history or related disciplines that re-evaluate aspects of Sigmar Polke’s oeuvre from a relevant contemporary perspective.
This year‘s call is specifically aimed at scholars whose research focuses on Sigmar Polke’s experimental approach to photography. We invite project proposals from art historians as well as photographers or photo restorers with relevant experience working with analogue photographic materials. Projects may focus directly on Polke’s photographic oeuvre or take a broader view of his expansive interpretation of photography. Applicants are encouraged to use Polke’s diverse photographic practice as a theoretical framework for exploring their own artistic or theoretical research questions.
One of the members of this year’s jury is Franziska Kunze (Head of the Collection of Photography and Time-Based Media, Pinakothek der Moderne, Munich). We are delighted to share an excerpt from her thesis on the history of photographic errors and their use in art.
Polke Post 25 - Call for projects 2024 and a text by jury member Franziska Kunze: Opaque Photographs: Visualizing Photographic Materiality as an Artistic Strategy
POLKE POST 25
Scholarships with a special focus on photography
Splashing, Dripping, Smearing—Developer and Fixer Solutions
Although some people are under the impression that the gelatin silver layer is invisible in classic camera photographs, they are by no means correct. This layer is in fact always visible, as it constitutes the substance in which the image is embedded. Yet it is true that its presence escapes general attention, as the viewer’s gaze is usually focused on the subject depicted. However, there are certain chemicals involved in the construction of the image that do not make a noticeable appearance themselves. These include the developer and fixer solutions, which are usually washed off once they have served their purpose. If this is not done carefully, it can lead to stains, such as those published by the photographic chemist Hinricus Lüppo-Cramer (1871–1943) in 1914 in order to explain their causes and how to avoid them. In his article, he discussed various “peculiar” [1] phenomena that can appear on gelatin silver bromide. Spread across several pages, the relatively short article is accompanied by images showing examples of negatives with either dry edges, crystallization of the fixing agent sodium thiosulfate, cracks caused by swelling or other formations; the running text discusses how to avoid or eliminate them.
While some of the images were sent to the author by various readers for his appraisal and represent unintended results, others are based on the photographic chemist’s own experiments
Unlike the other photographs, however, the flaws in these pictures are not accidental. Instead, they were deliberately produced in order to identify the previously unexplained causes of these phenomena and also to present them in sometimes exaggerated form for illustrative purposes. Lüppo-Cramer admitted this frankly a year later: “Crystallizations in such a pronounced form, in which whole crusts of sodium thiosulfate are present, will of course hardly ever occur unintentionally, since even if the washing process is only perfunctory, it will still be washed off better than in these examples.” [2]
Sigmar Polke was one of the first who did not want to “wash it off better,” instead recognizing the aesthetic potential of creating these stains and integrating them into his artistic process over many years and in various series.
As is so often the case, Polke’s approach can be traced back to the adoption of an originally accidental occurrence. Wishing to stop confining his photographs to smaller, standard formats, and to print them in large formats instead, he realized that the developer tray, which was designed for 50 × 60 cm paper, was too small for his chosen dimensions. He decided to fold the 84 × 114 cm sheets so that they could be developed, washed, and fixed in the small tray. [3] As folding the paper meant that the chemical solutions could neither be evenly applied nor carefully rinsed off, the pictures inevitably displayed streaks and stains as a result of this haphazard approach to the developing and fixing process. For when the two liquids meet on the photographic layer, they produce the so-called yellow fog that gave Polke’s images their characteristic blotchiness and tint—a well-established occurrence. […] Polke had deliberately used this reaction between the two liquids on paper in his 1973 photo series Bowery, which consisted of fourteen individual prints. In an interview he later emphasized the significance of these material phenomena for the interpretation of his works: “The shots of Bowery are good. It was the first time that I had incorporated all the mistakes, the spots that crop up when you are developing and enlarging, but in a way that interprets the picture because the bums are lying in the dirt there anyway. You can let photography express it all. The photos do it by themselves in the developing pan.” [4] It is conceivable that Polke was referring here to a particular image in the series created in lower Manhattan. It depicts a homeless man sleeping huddled against the wall of a house. Although this print has comparatively little bath residue, it does display other traces of this unusual developing process. The entire print is relatively weak, but the lower part has remained almost completely undeveloped, which could be the result of the fixer solution contaminating the developer bath. […] In Polke’s Bowery, however, it not only reinforces the impression that the “bum is lying in the dirt anyway,” [5] which is supported by the unclear nature of the print; it also makes it seem as if his surroundings are in the process of dissolving, cutting him off and leaving him alone and vulnerable in his universe. […]
One year after Bowery, Polke once again used the same principle for another fourteen-part series, Bärenkampf (Bear Fight), folding the large-format sheets before inadequately developing and fixing them in this state. Once each of the baths had been adulterated by the other solution, Polke could be sure that the fog would become more and more apparent in the subsequent prints. In some of these works, the chemicals have penetrated so deeply into the paper folds that the creases now stand out darkly, and the air bubbles that have formed in these places are also visible. At the same time, it appears that Polke was very intentional about the way he added creases in the example shown here, as the folds do not disrupt the action in the center of the image. Instead, they frame it and allow a clear view of the bear fighting with several dogs as two men intervene. The crowd of onlookers in the background runs across the picture like a thick band; it is partly swallowed up by the darkness resulting from the intense effect of the developer fluid. Like the Bowery series, the streaks not only allude to the development process, but also influence how we interpret the scene. [...]
Lightly edited excerpt from: Franziska Kunze, Opake Fotografien: Das Sichtbarmachen fotografischer Materialität als künstlerische Strategie, Berlin, Reimer Verlag, 2019.
[1] Hinricus Lüppo-Cramer, “Über Liesegangsche Ringe und einige andere Strukturen auf Bromsilbergelatine,” Zeitschrift Photographische Korrespondenz, vol. 51 (1914), pp. 156–157, p. 156.
[2] Hinricus Lüppo-Cramer, “Fixiernatronflecke,” Zeitschrift Photographische Rundschau und Mitteilungen, vol. 52 (1915), pp. 5–6, p. 6.
[3] See Maria Morris-Hambourg, ”Polke’s Recipes for Arousing the Soul”, in: Sigmar Polke Photoworks: When Pictures Vanish, exh.-cat. The Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles 1995/96, Site Santa Fe 1996, Corcoran Gallery of Art, Washington D.C. 1996/97, Ostfildern, 1995, pp. 36–57, pp. 51–52.
[4] ”Poison is Effective; Painting is Not. Bice Curiger in Conversation with Sigmar Polke“, in: Parkett, 26, 1990, pp. 18–27, p. 26.
[5] Ebd.