The woman in front’s trolley got away from her on the ramp between the supermarket and the underground car-park. Nothing major, just the loud clang of metal on metal and a hasty putting away of the mobile phone claiming her navigational skills at the time.
This isn’t a post about texting while driving (even a supermarket trolley). That would be hypocrisy, since once the fuss had died down, I got my phone out.
I’d noticed the metal plates attached to the walls — the ones she hit so loudly — and something about the simple cross-hatch pattern got me thinking about the artist Len Lye.
Born in New Zealand, Lye became one of the most influential and experimental artists of the twentieth century. He spent his lifetime pursuing the ‘art of movement’; the goal of which was “to affect people physically and emotionally, so that art became a full body experience … with flashing, dancing cinematography, or thunderous, oscillating metallic sculptures.” (1)
I was introduced to Lye’s work through his films, specifically in a Film Studies class I did with Professor Roger Horrocks at the University of Auckland. As well as being a superb lecturer, Prof. Horrocks is also an expert in Lye’s work — having been his assistant in the 1970s.
So my post for Sally D’s Mobile Photography Challenge is an experiment in abstraction, and an attempt to capture some of the sense of motion so central to Len Lye’s work.