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| Ne c'est pas une porte* |
In our latest portrait of a classic, photographer/locksmith Dana Lee has employed an off-kilter affect causing the viewer to establish an unusual relationship with the subject. Where normally we would have a vantage looking down upon the knob, in a position of control wherein that object is clearly utile and we the utilizer - in this instance we are placed at an intimate, conversational angle with the apparatus. Our traditional relationship with the door knob is challenged by this and by the knob's position and texture in this composition: it is situated at the edge of the frame and appears made of water, as if any attempt to grasp it would meet with naught but damp palms and frustration. Combine that with the prominent taunting promise of the keyhole - inviting access, unlike the vitreous knob but, alas, too small to fit through.
I pronounce this a desperate meditation on the weakness of mortal flesh, ironically writ large via the endurance of a mortal-flesh-made object of lovely art deco proportions and likely adequate function.
*It's ajar.
