Bound figures huddle in strangely orderly rows. Soaking wet, robed acolytes sweep a staircase. A naked man, chained, faces an endless horizon. Oddly serene, a head bursts into flames.
Does Misha Gordin point his camera outward to the existing world or turn it inward toward his soul? Is he taking photographs of existing reality, or creating his own world? Where do these dark, disturbing, utterly haunting images come from, and what can they tell us about out innermost selves?
Gordin describes his work as "conceptual photography," likening it to the process of writing poetry. He says that "an idea or vision is transformed by the means of photography to an image connected to reality only be my imagination." Through his work, he addresses some of the most primal questions: birth, death, and the nature of being.
Gordin is a rarity in today's didgital world--an old-fashioned craftsman whose magic is wrought entirely in the darkroom. Eschewing computer technology of any sort, he uses traditional step-and-repeat techniques that have existed since the early days of photography to create his dense, multilayered images.
"In a world of high technology," Gordin asks, "will you still believe in truthfulness of a photograph?" In Gordin's world, the technology is traditional, and the truth all his own.