Flip through any copy of Michael Schmelling's My Blank Pages and you'll notice the handwriting: thoughts scribbled in the margins around the photographs, footnotes, factoids, dates, jokes, memories, quotes, possible misinformation and tangents on the practice of photography. The pictures are from a personal archive of Fujiflex prints, amassed over the course of Schmelling's photographic career, the fragmentary background noise of his itinerant working life reassembled into an oblique autobiography. Messy and intimate, the prints document rooms he has inhabited over the last decade, people he has encountered and offhand observations of the everyday world. A self-reflective departure from his numerous documentary- and portrait-based books, this volume continues Schmelling's A Week of No Computer, which reappears in the center of this book in a revised and condensed form. Bound with no covers, wrapped in a manila jacket and obsessively annotated by hand, each copy of this limited print run is truly unique.
Flip through any copy of Michael Schmelling's My Blank Pages and you'll notice the handwriting: thoughts scribbled in the margins around the photographs, footnotes, factoids, dates, jokes, memories, quotes, possible misinformation and tangents on the practice of photography. The pictures are from a personal archive of Fujiflex prints, amassed over the course of Schmelling's photographic career, the fragmentary background noise of his itinerant working life reassembled into an oblique autobiography. Messy and intimate, the prints document rooms he has inhabited over the last decade, people he has encountered and offhand observations of the everyday world. A self-reflective departure from his numerous documentary- and portrait-based books, this volume continues Schmelling's A Week of No Computer, which reappears in the center of this book in a revised and condensed form. Bound with no covers, wrapped in a manila jacket and obsessively annotated by hand, each copy of this limited print run is truly unique.