Bratislava Month of Photography Review

A sight for sore eyes

Earlier this month, I traveled to Bratislava to see the exhibitions of the 32nd installment of the festival “Month of Photography”. For me, this was the tenth time (I skipped the “covid” editions in the past two years).

So what is it?

Well, for a month, the city of Bratislava transforms itself into a large photo gallery. Almost all proper galleries and some of the more provisionally organized spaces host authors from across the world. There are usually between 20 to 25 venues scattered throughout the city center, each with its own scale, ambiance, and charm.

In three days, I managed to go through all of the available exhibitions. However, I wasn’t at the opening week, so I couldn’t participate in the opening events, nor did I see the accompanying OFF festival exhibition (held by students). This was the unfortunate compromise I had to take to avoid the still-present virus. Two or three weeks into the festivals, most galleries are already empty, and one can roam the exhibition halls pretty safely. But you can watch my videos on youtube (Part 1 and Part 2) to see how it was in the pre-pandemic times.

With the disclaimer out of the way, I’m listing my favorite exhibitions of this year.

NA SEVER! / DUE NORTH!

In the past twelve or thirteen years since I’m visiting this festival, I learned that certain venues tend to have their specific taste for the exhibitions they present. Zoya Gallery is usually reserved for thematic compilations of multiple authors and really good ones at that. This year they presented a collection of northern authors, all top-tier photographers. The prints were big and magnificent. The only thing lacking would perhaps be better lighting, but it doesn’t matter; it was still good anyways. For the first time, I was able to see Erik Johansson in a format of almost 4x3m, and even at that scale, his compositing skills are impeccable. Another artist who blew me away was Ragnar Axelsson with his documentary work in the earth’s coldest regions, and Sanna Kannisto, with studio-type photography. I returned to this gallery twice to really absorb everything it showed. This exhibition alone was well worth the trip.

NICK BRANDT: THE DAY MAY BREAK

Another place that regularly features authors of the highest caliber is Dom Umenia. This year it held three exhibitions, of which I’ll remember Nick Brandt’s work the most. Again, large prints of a project leave us with a lot to think about. The Day May Break is hard to put into words, I’m not even attempting it, but I will quote a paragraph from the author’s own essay:

These last few years, when I look at imagery of many places on the planet, I no longer find myself able to experience a pure wonder at their beauty. I now have a bittersweet taste in my mouth and an anxious pit in my stomach. I find myself wondering, how long will those places remain pristine, given the speed of environmental degradation? How long before scorching wildfires claim them? And will they recover from these mega-fires? So many forests — damaged by climate change, by wildfires and mega-droughts — are not recovering or returning like they once did.

As the natural world we knew rapidly disappears before our eyes, we yearn for what was. Not in a nostalgic or sentimental way, but with a deep visceral ache in our being. — Nick Brandt

JURAJ MRAVEC: WAR IN UKRAINE

Probably the only true photojournalistic exhibition this year, but boy, did it hit as hard as the other ones. Juraj’s work in Ukraine is not only excellent but also extremely brave and, above all, necessary!

MICHAŁ SZALAST: ALBINI

Another exhibition of a similar kind is Szalast’s work on albino people on the Tanzanian island of Ukerewe on Lake Victoria in Africa. Stunning work on a topic that would deserve more of our attention. There aren’t many things that would be more difficult than being an albino in Africa. These people are tortured, shamed, and often killed merely for the lack of pigment in their skin. The amount of superstitious beliefs tied to their unfortunate existence is staggering, and in this case, a bit of educational interventionism wouldn’t hurt.

TVÁROU V TVÁR, FACE TO FACE

Every year Opava School of Photography gets a place to present the best of its students’ work. And each time, it is a gem. The works of these students are usually at the top level in their respective fields, ranging from conceptual photography to photojournalism. Besides the photos on the walls, they also present photo books (usually graduation works) and sometimes multimedia presentations. This year I will remember a photobook called Granica by Artur Ostafin (documentary work about the Ukrainian refugee crisis) and Krzysztof Gołuch, Hotel (documenting the solitary life of hotel employees). After all these years and exhibitions, I’m beginning to believe that Opava might be one of the best, if not The Best, place to study photography in the world! The creative force and the quality with which it is realized is just beyond any other, and it is more often than not on the global top pro-level.

ANTONÍN KRATOCHVÍL : Z OČÍ DO OČÍ

Another place for acclaimed authors is the home of the organizer at Prepoštska 4 street in the old time. Kratochvíl featured three categories of his work; portraits of famous people, and photos taken in poor parts of central/eastern Europe (mostly Roma people), and a series of photographs he shot on one sunny afternoon with David Bowie. The first two were really good; I admire the “I don’t care if you’re famous” attitude with which he photographed celebs, but the Bowie series somehow leaves me unsatisfied. You see, once you get over the halo effect of either Kratochvíl or Bowie, and start seing the photographs for what they are (two middle-aged dudes having fun with a camera), it is beginning to seem a bit… hmm… how to put it? Let’s just say it would be fine if this was a student’s exhibition — for example — something coming from the Opava school, but for a serious world-class photographer, it would definitely need some editing or at least a little bit of context in which to understand it properly. If you place this series as equal to much more refined bodies of work, you either artificially blow up the former or degrade the latter.

HOMMAGE À MARIÁN VARGA

Although we share the same first name (with slightly different spelling), Marián Varga was previously unknown to me, but he’s obviously a huge name in the Czech/Slovak world. So huge that only three years after his death, the fabulous Danubiana (a museum attractively located on a Danube river, look it up) hosted a huge retrospective on his life and work. The exhibition featured 75 photographers and dozens of photographs, from concert photos to studio portraits, all portraying the life and work of this amazing musician. I should look him up and give him a listen. At the moment, it is the only exhibition still in place (until the end of January 2023), so you can still visit.

I also liked the more historically oriented exhibitions, such as the one by Martin Munkácsi, Christine de Grancy, Discodrom (disco photos from the 1980s), I also liked Denislav Stoychev (an exhibition which would definitely deserve better prints and a better gallery at that), while authors like Jana Butzke, Silvie Milková, Erwin Wurm or Martin Kollár remain a mystery to me.

So these are my highlights. I am truly happy to have visited this festival after almost three years of pause. My eyes were hungry for exhibitions, virtuoso photography, and art in general. I am satisfied now (for a while).

I would like to publicly thank the organizers for making this happen. It is no easy task to put together an event like this. A lot of love goes into it, and it is remarkable that after 32 years, they still do it with the same fervor as if it was their first. So bravo for that.

My only hope is that the virus settles down so I can visit it properly the following year. I miss the crowd I was used to meeting there, and I especially miss the hipster vibe of the OFF festival. That will have to wait.