Bill Brandt’s Black

Bill Brandt is one of two photographers whom I return to every few months (the other is Peter Hujar). Brandt’s photographs are consistently shocking – because of their fearless confrontation with darkness, because of their unrelenting demand that the familiar become unfamiliar, and because his bodies look like buildings and his buildings breathe. I shuffle through the book of photographs I keep by my bed, and become addicted to his black – which is not like any other black, and which changes the way that I see shadows and interstices. When I close the book and return to my polychrome bedroom I miss his depths.

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