ФОТОГРАФИЈАТA ЛАЖЕ! - НО И ФОТОГРАФИТЕ! Понекогаш

"
Pozdrav do site revoltirani i nerevoltirani fotografi no pred se lugje.
Moram da priznam deka cel den sme seuste vo frka site clenovi na Elema.Pricina za toa pretpostavuvate e vecerasnovo otvaranje na Fotomedia.Po nekoja slucajnos stigna do mene seto ova sto go citam.Sakam da vi prenesam deka foto klub Elema ke odgovori na celava ovaa nastanata situacija.Definitivno ne e nacin da denesniot praznik za Fotografija vo nasava drzava da go svedete na ova nivo.
Pozdrav do site.
Poranesen Pretsedatel na Foto Klub Elema
Dejan Gileski - Gile   "

...nema doblest za iZVINUVANJE...(...!
...nema taktichnost za korekten odgovor vo DADEN moment,

zhalosno

P.S Iako ne da ne ste zasluzhile nego EPTEN ste prezasluzhile da GO SVEDEME DENESHNIOT PRAZNIK na OVA NIVO a kako shto gledam YOU DONT EVEN WANT TO SAVE THE DAY....., rekov deka kje dojdam da ja poglednam izlozhbata. Me interesira da poglednam zoshto tolku mnogu se ZBORESHE ZA ZHIRIRANJETO NA IZLOZHBATA a i kako kje se odnesuvate pokraj vakvo FIJASKO!

P.P.S GILE .....ISKRENO mislev deka kje se izvinish......!

Секако дека има!!!


Не само што нема никаква уметност, туку целата работа почнува толку да се заматува, што кога ќе огрее сонце, ќе останат само грутки кал кои на најнежен допир ќе се претворат во прав и ќе исчезнат во воздухот.

Почнувајќи од жалната состојба на сајтот, па фрките околу блади Сара Лин, па кој што кажал, кој што напишал, некој си Коста-моста....

Сите ја забораваат главната работа заради која се тука... на форумов.

И kavadar66, не би прашала дали има тука пулитика, би прашала што има тука, освен пулитика?

hm....zhalosno....nevkusno.....!!

potiknat od tekstot na Milena...razocharan od skorashnite sluchuvanja na Makedonskoto fotografsko nebo najavuvam dlaboko povlekuvanje vo sebe i samoizolacija posvetena edinstveno na edinstvenoto edinstveno neshto shto mi pravi da se chuvstvuvam kreativno i glasno....FOTOGRAFIJATA!!

drago mi beshe shto se druzhevme.....se gledame na izlozhbi.....!!

pozdrav

Malku za politikata...
Se e politika. Mislam deka ovoj pat slucajno dojde do ova, ne so predumisla, no fekaliite imaat nezgodna osobina da isplivuvaat na povrsina vo najnezgoden mozen moment. Od eden napliv na naivno, neizdrzano falotenje vo magazin za siroki narodni (i pretezno zenski, bez negativa) masi, se pokaza celiot zanes na ekipata koja ne saka da priznae deka vremeto si tece. Od iskusni "volci", bi ocekuval da se borat da si ja zadrzat pozicijata na lideri, no deka ke demonstriraat vakov bahatluk, ne ocekuvav. Prvo, zatoa sto im e kontraproduktiven vo odnos na celta, a uste povazno deka za da bides lider ti trebaat sledbenici. Pod celovo ova mislam tokmu na politikata vo fotografijata, a ne na samata fotografija. Oti, zosto ti se ocenki, ako sam se ocenuvas?
Ako ne si go pocituvas esnafot, kolku poeni i da soberes, nikogas nema da stanes majstor.
Se mi se cini deka, tretirajki ne kako amatercinja, gusteri, novojlii, chkart vo fotografijata, zaboravija deka ne sme bas intelektualno abortirani. Naprotiv. Uste pomalku glupavi deca na koi ke im se odnesuvaat onaka kako sto pokazaa denovive. Sega ke sledat chvrgi. Pa zauski. Pa samari. Pa boksovi... Elem, a na sekogo po zaslugi. A ima tamu dobri fotografi, i dobri lugje. Se nadevam deka ke se otkacat od losoto drustvo...

P.S. Spiro, prijatele, nemoj tolku tragicno da gi sfakjas rabotite. sepak, fotografijata e edinstveniot proizvod sto se broi na masava. Zalno e samo sto ima figuri koi mislat deka imaat od gospod dadeno ekskluzivno pravo da se bavat so nea kako umetnost. Momentot na rascistuvanje se znaese deka ke dojde, koga togas...

Ne be Janus,

ne gi svakjam jas rabotite tragichno, samo uvidov deka umetnichkata fotorafija vo Makedonija e seushte na rang na GULABARSTVO bez nikakvi intencii da stane neshto drugo.....gledam deka gulabarstvovo pochnuva i mene da me navlekuva na filmot.....jas ne ja razbiram taka i kje se povlecham vo svet kade nema vakvi prikazni i kje si go gradam onaka kako shto mi godi, onaka kako jas go dozhivuvam bez kompromisi

......NEMA KOMPROMIS....!

ZoranK: samoizolacijata nema da me napravi podobar fotograf, poentata e shto nemam vekje intencii da bidam podobar, imam intencija da ostanam svoj i razlichen, neniveliran so OVOJ KLASICHEN MEDIOKRITETSKI SAMONARECHEN SAMOBENDISAN WANNABE TRENDSETTER FOTOGRAFSKI GOLUBARNIK...!



IV. FROM THE SOULS OF ARTISTS AND WRITERS

145

What is perfect is supposed not to have become.— In the case of everything perfect we are accustomed to abstain from asking how it became: we rejoice in the present fact as though it came out of the ground by magic. Here we are probably still standing under the aftereffect of a primeval mythological invention. We still almost feel (for example in a Greek temple such as that at Paestum) that a god must one morning have playfully constructed his dwelling out of these tremendous weights: at other times that a stone suddenly acquired by magic a soul that is now trying to speak out of it. The artist knows that his work produces its full effect when it excites a belief in an improvisation, a belief that it came into being with a miraculous suddenness; and so he may assist this illusion and introduce these elements of rapturous restlessness, of blindly groping disorder, of attentive reverie that attend the beginning of creation into his art as a means of deceiving the soul of the spectator or auditor into a mood in which he believes that the complete and perfect has suddenly emerged instantaneously.— The science of art has, it goes without saying, most definitely to counter this illusion and to display the bad habits and false conclusions of the intellect by virtue of which it allows the artist to ensnare it.

146

The artist’s sense of truth.— With regard to knowledge of truths, the artist has a weaker morality than the thinker; he will on no account let himself be deprived of brilliant and profound interpretations of life, and defends himself against temperate and simple methods and results. He is apparently fighting for the higher worthiness and meaning of mankind; in reality he will not renounce the most efficacious presuppositions for his art, the fantastical, mythical, uncertain, extreme, the sense of the symbolical, the over-valuation of personality, the belief that genius is something miraculous—he considers, therefore, the continuance of his art of creation as more important than the scientific devotion to truth in every shape, however simple this may appear.

147

Art as raiser of the dead.— Art also fulfils the task of preservation and even of brightening up extinguished and faded memories; when it accomplishes this task it weaves a rope round the ages and causes their spirits to return. It is, certainly, only a phantom-life that results therefrom, as out of graves, or like the return in dreams of our beloved dead, but for some moments, at least, the old sensation lives again and the heart beats to an almost forgotten time. Hence, for the sake of the general usefulness of art, the artist himself must be excused if he does not stand in the front rank of the Enlightenment and progressive masculinization of man; all his life long he has remained a child or a youth, and has stood still at the point where he was overcome by his artistic impulse; the feelings of the first years of life, however, are acknowledged to be nearer to those of earlier times than to those of the present century. Unconsciously it becomes his mission to make mankind more childlike; this is his glory and his limitation.

The art of the ugly soul.— Art is confined within too narrow limits if it be required that only the orderly, respectable, well-behaved soul should be allowed to express itself therein. As in the plastic arts, so also in music and poetry: there is an art of the ugly soul side by side with the art of the beautiful soul; and the mightiest effects of art, the crushing of souls, moving of stones and humanising of beasts, have perhaps been best achieved precisely by that art.

Inspiration again.— If the productive power has been suspended for a length of time, and has been hindered in its outflow by some obstacle, there comes at last such a sudden outpouring, as if an immediate inspiration were taking place without previous inward working, consequently a miracle. This constitutes the familiar deception, in the continuance of which, as we have said, the interest of all artists is rather too much concerned. The capital has only accumulated, it has not suddenly fallen down from heaven. Moreover, such apparent inspirations are seen elsewhere, for instance in the realm of goodness, of virtue and of vice.

The sufferings of genius and their value.— The artistic genius desires to give pleasure, but if his mind is on a very high plane he does not easily find any one to share his pleasure; he offers entertainment but nobody accepts it. This gives him, in certain circumstances, a comically touching pathos; for he has really no right to force pleasure on men. He pipes, but none will dance: can that be tragic? Perhaps.— As compensation for this deprivation, however, he finds more pleasure in creating than the rest of mankind experiences in all other species of activity. His sufferings are considered as exaggerated, because the sound of his complaints is louder and his tongue more eloquent; and yet sometimes his sufferings are really very great; but only because his ambition and his envy are so great. The learned genius, like Kepler and Spinoza, is usually not so covetous and does not make such an exhibition of his really greater sufferings and deprivations. He can reckon with greater certainty on future fame and can afford to do without the present, whilst an artist who does this always plays a desperate game that makes his heart ache. In very rare cases, when in one and the same individual are combined the genius of power and of knowledge and the moral genius, there is added to the above-mentioned pains that species of pain which must be regarded as the most curious exception in the world; an extra- and supra-personal sensibility attuned to a nation, to humanity, to all civilisation, to all suffering existence, which acquires its value through its connection with particularly difficult and remote perceptions (pity in itself is worth but little). But by what standard, on what scales can we measure whether or not it is genuine? Is it not almost imperative to be mistrustful of all who speak of possessing sensiblities of this sort?

Art dangerous to the artist.— When art seizes violently on an individual it draws him back to the conceptions of those ages in which art flourished most mightily, and then it effects a retrogression in him. The artist acquires increasing reverence for sudden excitations, believes in gods and demons, instills a soul into nature, hates the sciences, becomes changeable of mood as were the men of antiquity and longs for an overthrowing of everything unfavorable to art, and he does this with all the vehemence and unreasonableness of a child. The artist is in himself already a retarded being, inasmuch as he has halted at games that pertain to youth and childhood: to this there is now added his gradual retrogression to earlier times. Thus there at last arises a violent antagonism between him and the men of his period, of his own age, and his end is gloomy; just as, according to the tales told in antiquity, Homer and Aeschylus at last lived and died in melancholia.

FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE

pozdrav

Glecin напиша: Ne be Janus, ne gi svakjam jas rabotite tragichno, samo uvidov deka umetnichkata fotorafija vo Makedonija e seushte na rang na GULABARSTVO bez nikakvi intencii da stane neshto drugo.....gledam deka gulabarstvovo pochnuva i mene da me navlekuva na filmot.....jas ne ja razbiram taka i kje se povlecham vo svet kade nema vakvi prikazni i kje si go gradam onaka kako shto mi godi, onaka kako jas go dozhivuvam bez kompromisi ......NEMA KOMPROMIS....! ZoranK: samoizolacijata nema da me napravi podobar fotograf, poentata e shto nemam vekje intencii da bidam podobar, imam intencija da ostanam svoj i razlichen, neniveliran so OVOJ KLASICHEN MEDIOKRITETSKI SAMONARECHEN SAMOBENDISAN WANNABE TRENDSETTER FOTOGRAFSKI GOLUBARNIK...! IV. FROM THE SOULS OF ARTISTS AND WRITERS 145 What is perfect is supposed not to have become.— In the case of everything perfect we are accustomed to abstain from asking how it became: we rejoice in the present fact as though it came out of the ground by magic. Here we are probably still standing under the aftereffect of a primeval mythological invention. We still almost feel (for example in a Greek temple such as that at Paestum) that a god must one morning have playfully constructed his dwelling out of these tremendous weights: at other times that a stone suddenly acquired by magic a soul that is now trying to speak out of it. The artist knows that his work produces its full effect when it excites a belief in an improvisation, a belief that it came into being with a miraculous suddenness; and so he may assist this illusion and introduce these elements of rapturous restlessness, of blindly groping disorder, of attentive reverie that attend the beginning of creation into his art as a means of deceiving the soul of the spectator or auditor into a mood in which he believes that the complete and perfect has suddenly emerged instantaneously.— The science of art has, it goes without saying, most definitely to counter this illusion and to display the bad habits and false conclusions of the intellect by virtue of which it allows the artist to ensnare it. 146 The artist’s sense of truth.— With regard to knowledge of truths, the artist has a weaker morality than the thinker; he will on no account let himself be deprived of brilliant and profound interpretations of life, and defends himself against temperate and simple methods and results. He is apparently fighting for the higher worthiness and meaning of mankind; in reality he will not renounce the most efficacious presuppositions for his art, the fantastical, mythical, uncertain, extreme, the sense of the symbolical, the over-valuation of personality, the belief that genius is something miraculous—he considers, therefore, the continuance of his art of creation as more important than the scientific devotion to truth in every shape, however simple this may appear. 147 Art as raiser of the dead.— Art also fulfils the task of preservation and even of brightening up extinguished and faded memories; when it accomplishes this task it weaves a rope round the ages and causes their spirits to return. It is, certainly, only a phantom-life that results therefrom, as out of graves, or like the return in dreams of our beloved dead, but for some moments, at least, the old sensation lives again and the heart beats to an almost forgotten time. Hence, for the sake of the general usefulness of art, the artist himself must be excused if he does not stand in the front rank of the Enlightenment and progressive masculinization of man; all his life long he has remained a child or a youth, and has stood still at the point where he was overcome by his artistic impulse; the feelings of the first years of life, however, are acknowledged to be nearer to those of earlier times than to those of the present century. Unconsciously it becomes his mission to make mankind more childlike; this is his glory and his limitation. The art of the ugly soul.— Art is confined within too narrow limits if it be required that only the orderly, respectable, well-behaved soul should be allowed to express itself therein. As in the plastic arts, so also in music and poetry: there is an art of the ugly soul side by side with the art of the beautiful soul; and the mightiest effects of art, the crushing of souls, moving of stones and humanising of beasts, have perhaps been best achieved precisely by that art. Inspiration again.— If the productive power has been suspended for a length of time, and has been hindered in its outflow by some obstacle, there comes at last such a sudden outpouring, as if an immediate inspiration were taking place without previous inward working, consequently a miracle. This constitutes the familiar deception, in the continuance of which, as we have said, the interest of all artists is rather too much concerned. The capital has only accumulated, it has not suddenly fallen down from heaven. Moreover, such apparent inspirations are seen elsewhere, for instance in the realm of goodness, of virtue and of vice. The sufferings of genius and their value.— The artistic genius desires to give pleasure, but if his mind is on a very high plane he does not easily find any one to share his pleasure; he offers entertainment but nobody accepts it. This gives him, in certain circumstances, a comically touching pathos; for he has really no right to force pleasure on men. He pipes, but none will dance: can that be tragic? Perhaps.— As compensation for this deprivation, however, he finds more pleasure in creating than the rest of mankind experiences in all other species of activity. His sufferings are considered as exaggerated, because the sound of his complaints is louder and his tongue more eloquent; and yet sometimes his sufferings are really very great; but only because his ambition and his envy are so great. The learned genius, like Kepler and Spinoza, is usually not so covetous and does not make such an exhibition of his really greater sufferings and deprivations. He can reckon with greater certainty on future fame and can afford to do without the present, whilst an artist who does this always plays a desperate game that makes his heart ache. In very rare cases, when in one and the same individual are combined the genius of power and of knowledge and the moral genius, there is added to the above-mentioned pains that species of pain which must be regarded as the most curious exception in the world; an extra- and supra-personal sensibility attuned to a nation, to humanity, to all civilisation, to all suffering existence, which acquires its value through its connection with particularly difficult and remote perceptions (pity in itself is worth but little). But by what standard, on what scales can we measure whether or not it is genuine? Is it not almost imperative to be mistrustful of all who speak of possessing sensiblities of this sort? Art dangerous to the artist.— When art seizes violently on an individual it draws him back to the conceptions of those ages in which art flourished most mightily, and then it effects a retrogression in him. The artist acquires increasing reverence for sudden excitations, believes in gods and demons, instills a soul into nature, hates the sciences, becomes changeable of mood as were the men of antiquity and longs for an overthrowing of everything unfavorable to art, and he does this with all the vehemence and unreasonableness of a child. The artist is in himself already a retarded being, inasmuch as he has halted at games that pertain to youth and childhood: to this there is now added his gradual retrogression to earlier times. Thus there at last arises a violent antagonism between him and the men of his period, of his own age, and his end is gloomy; just as, according to the tales told in antiquity, Homer and Aeschylus at last lived and died in melancholia. FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE pozdrav

Бидејки преведува машина (на google), мислам дека супер е преводот.

Изменето од Александар_А - 14.Ноември.2008 во 13:38