ILEANA TRUDI RAPP born January 21 at 10:51 am

Transparent people in the recovery room. Effect of pain relief prescription. It’s funny to be exhausted and inflamed by joy. Meeting mostly other men in the hallway warming up meals, boiling water or smearing peanut butter; a new arrival says I look tired. I feel complete by my daughter. Seeing her as part of myself, someone of me, who might really come to understand the weird nuance of this subjectivity. I feel like even at one day old, she already knows.

Faux Pas

 

In 2018 I was invited to participate in a group exhibition in Schaarbeek, Belgium. The piece that was chosen by the curator was this squishy bubble-gum coloured object I made by casting epoxy resin in crude foam forms, then breaking it out before it was completely cured and twisting it in on itself. I'm not particularly proud of any of this work; it was more something I was just moving through. Anyways, this post isn't about that.. It's about this photo that my best friend Emile took with his phone during the opening whereby a stranger stroked the artwork with his right hand. I don't think it was captured — but if I remember correctly — he also gave it a little squeeze.

Signs

 I have made many signs impractically in the darkroom for the darkroom. This is a selection of them but there are more that I haven't scanned yet. One says "WHAT KIND OF STAIN IS THIS?"

Saturna Holography Synthesis 2 - A Breakup

After some delay we finally made it back to Saturna to visit Al and continue our holography experiments. Although the results were better this time, there still seem to be some fundamental flaws in our sandbox setup; likely our sand isn't clean enough. Nonetheless it was an opportunity to try a new single beam reflection setup and a different type of holographic film. 

I tried very hard to inhale all of the magic of our time together there. Eleven hours in the lab. The rest spent sitting around stoned, chatting or listening to music. We ate oatmeal and soup and drank coffee. On the second day we drove to East Point — as is ritual by now — and were very lucky to see two grey whales just thirty or forty meters from us. Ecstasy! Then all of a sudden they would dive down and we'd lose track of them. We ran around up and down the trails in search of their slick arched backs penetrating the surface of the straight. Or a big burst from a blow hole. It was childish and beautiful - a warm memory I think I'll keep forever. 

This was a special trip with a big final intention: to dismantle the lab Sid and I built on Saturna and bring it back to Vancouver in order to have more consistent access to the holographic process. We both still have much to learn but it's the pleasure of the process that pulls me towards it. It's so easy to become lost in the glow of the laser light in the darkened room. Especially when we are waiting in silence and stillness for the room and objects to settle, essentially meditating, in a room together. In that context it's impossible to forget the spiritual and social dimension of holography. 

Love to Al, Sid and Madeleine

Sid's bouncing trick to see wether or not a battery still has charge

Al watching back digital scans of the 16mmm footage we shot during our last visit

The lamp shade is again our starting point - although we finally realize that the fabric moves too much to be captured

Clean, clean, clean, clean, clean, clean, clean, clean...

Record everything

First view and then we ran down!

I've never been this close before

Whale tail

Record everything

Never forget frog night

The fresnel array which I bought at Tokyo Hands with a mirror backing turned out to be our greatest success

Lost in the glow - this is what I am meditating next to for several minutes while waiting for the room to settle

Record everything

Al's hunger for experimental video resurfaced through black television screens and these fresnel holos

Record everything

Our final hologram: a CD. Can't remember what album it was. Something Al didn't care for.

Photomural references moodboard

 

Photomural in the making / joy of chemistry and light

Behind the scenes production of Essential Pleasures New Happiness Photomural on 1265 Howe st. 

Essential Pleasures New Happiness 2024
Photomural featuring prints by Rebecca Brewer, Deon Feng, Sidney Gordon, Simon Grefiel, Natasha Katedralis, Tiziana La Melia, Thomas Nugent, Felix Rapp, Emile Rubino, Gerri York, Katayoon Yousefbigloo

Opening Event 6pm - 9pm, Oct 26 – Feb 8, 2025

The darkroom is a good place to gossip, talk about the city, discuss grant applications,  exchange accounting tips, listen to industrial music and meditate to the sound of water flowing through the washing tray. The darkroom is “cheaper than therapy.” Just kidding! The darkroom is just a stuffy, dusty, windowless room. Some imbue it with a form of liquid intelligence, but at times, the whole endeavor just feels clumsy if not slightly dumb and anachronistic. In any case, when in a quest for Essential Pleasures and New Happiness, it’s easier to persevere when you’re not alone in the dark.

Over the last few months, the eleven artists involved in the making of this communal photomural developed their own approaches to making images with light, sensitized materials and chemistry. Some built makeshift rigs for shooting lasers through negatives or developed ways to make contact prints from laptop screens. Others enlarged and collaged from negatives found in abandoned satellite fields or taken to fulfill highschool projects. Felix Rapp gently guided and hosted this happy mess in the cramped photo lab that came into existence through his residency at Malaspina Printmakers.

For many, the printmaking part of photography is perhaps the least democratic/the most obscure part of the ‘medium.’ Crowded like moths to a flame under the dim light of the enlarger, we looked for ways to establish contact between objects and surfaces, and between our different practices. We didn’t want to be precious but still had to be organized. Some found new things for themselves along the way while others were just happy to momentarily forget themselves in the process. From the heat of summer and into the fall, we came in and out of the darkroom, always happy and exhausted when pushing the glass doors that give onto Howe Street. Often, we were surprised to find that it was already night and that the rain was still falling on the fountains of downtown Vancouver.

Text by Emile Rubino & Felix Rapp