Badlands





Through cultural osmosis it's become something we can all identify with - the 'badlands' of New Jersey. The poisonous brown swamp that flashes past in the opening credits of The Sopranos, reeds and factories, chimneys and motels. Fly-tipping and gangster hits. The footnote of the city, where the toxins of the metropolis bleed from its porous edge. We have our own badlands too, of course, in our Thames Estuary, and also in the gypsy-raddled wastes that stretch out past Uxbridge. I've been toying with buying a photobook, by Joshua Lutz, of the new jersey badlands (which apparently are actually called The Meadowlands) for my coffee table, I really enjoy these spooky, lonely photos.

(click on images for a bit higher res)



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4 comments:

Gaw said...

No art form does anomie like photography. Funny that. Is it the lack of affect produced by the 'flat', two-dimensional look you get in photography?

worm said...

very good question gaw! I honestly can't grasp what it is that really 'sits' you in a scene so easily as the bystander and the voyeur. although I would counter that by saying there's definately a few painters who can consistantly replicate the same effect, such as Hopper and also Peter Doig

Susan said...

Even the sunny state of California has its badlands Aren't landscapes full of windfarms, nodding donkeys and the like curiously fascinating?

worm said...

great picture susan! you're right, there's just something about manengineeering and landscapes that produces a sight that is fascinating, even if it is ugly in a conventional sense!