When do objects stop being objects? Or should I rather ask: when do we start objectifying things?
An object is its matter and its truth. However, in the west, we often halt at the idea of an object being something that has a very specific finality: to be looked at, to be used, etc. But an object is something that affects us. Its potential animation is precisely that: ours, meaning our capacity to abstract from its matter, to give it meaning. If we go back to the gestalt theory and consider its approach to form, we may suggest that every single object is potentially another object, for its nature is as subtle as it is impermanent.
To say that an object is an amalgamate of things is not the same as to say it is indefinite. When contemplating an object, one plays with abstraction and out interaction with it varies according to our and its context. When photography comes into the game and “reproduces” a certain object, we are once again confronted with its transience. There’s no such thing as a table “being just” a table, but that realization seems to be consolidated by the photographic register. Transforming perspective, dimension and placing the object under different lightning – changing its shapes and colours – certainly adds to it. But it goes far beyond that. To see an object as a picture is a guarantee that its meaning lies within us.
Igor’s exercise with the series nãooriginais is an affirmative one. With each picture, Igor plays with photographic morphology it order to transform the organisms within it. The grey and the grain are helpful in this exercise. They not only draw attention to the lines and contours that insistently create different objects, as they facilitate abstraction. There is a discourse in nãooriginais that is as contemporary as it can be; its statement is: no photography is but an image.