Four image-repertoires intersect here, oppose and distort each other. In front of the lens, I am at the same time: the one I think I am, the one I want others to think I am, the one the photographer thinks I am, and the one he makes use of to exhibit his art. In other words, a strange action: I do not stop imitating myself, and because of this, each time I am (or let myself be) photographed, I invariably suffer from a sensation of inauthenticity, sometimes of imposture (comparable to certain nightmares).
— Roland Barthes on being portrayed // camera lucida
For his film Tactica (2010) the Spanish artist Fernando Sanchez Castillo (1970) invited a group of blind people interested in politics and historyto feel, and thereby to ‘see’, monuments and portraits of the dictator Franco. Bronze equestrian statues, wax images, busts: everyone talked about them, but nobody wanted to have them. Anything reminiscent of the dictator has been removed from public space in recent years and stored in dark warehouses and army depots. Some of the blind people, who lost their sight at a later age, could remember the statues from the past; others, who never were able to see, discovered what the dictator looked like through their sense of touch. The film came about through complicated process, involving a great deal of institutional censorship. The result is an intense account of the encounter with this Spanish dictator, but also with abstract ideas such as power, time, taboos and memory.
The feeling of strangeness that overcomes the actor before the camera, as Pirandello describes it, is basically of the same kind as the estrangement felt before one’s own image in the mirror. But now the reflected image has become seperable, transportable.
Trouwens: voor zover ik dan weer van anderen begrepen heb deed hij die dans, die ‘moonwalk’ en ik weet niet of je daarvoor vrij lenig zou moeten zijn, maar die lijkt me vrij lastig te doen als je wat dikker bent.
— ik vroeg Andy, een blinde jongen, naar zijn beeld van Michael Jackson