Editorial.

Could this photograph on our front cover be read as a visual metaphor for where we, artists, critics, and educators, stand today? This image recently taken by Simon Norfolk in Afghanistan struck me the first time I saw it. Most of our lives we seem to be standing by the side of the road holding balloons for the younger generation. Around us, lately (although the whole twentieth century tended to look that way at various times outside the US), all is desolation, and human-inflicted destruction. Those balloons are full of air but colorful, light but voluminous. They can momentarily alleviate pain and despair; even a street-dog, if not beyond starvation, will stop and play with them. Obviously the delicate quality of the light and the colors of this photograph in its original version attracted more attention to Norfolk's work than the seriousness of his previous project in black and white (For Most of it I Have No Words). Formal qualities can improve attention and, ultimately, communication, as we relate to one another and experience on emotional and intellectual grounds simultaneously. Beauty in the arts is not the only ingredient that is being revisited, after years of post-modern neglect. Work addressing broad humanistic issues has been seen on the walls of several galleries, institutions, and has participated in several festivals this year. Highly idiosyncratic and deadpan productions are still among us but their impact has receded. From New York, Montreal, or Arles, curators are looking for new work without disregarding visual statements by confirmed artists "with a message", those that the art market has had a tendency to leave aside as controversial, if not "too political" (the adjective here has completely strayed from its original meaning in a way that guarantees disregard and censorship). These are rare times when artists who make images that document and comment on our present are being shown on walls and in the pages of magazines and books. This is happening in spite of the evolution of the mass media (photography, video, film) that are being controlled by fewer and fewer agencies.

With a desire to avoid the expression of a monolithic opinion, and because, as an editor of Afterimage, I am convinced that it is crucial for this magazine to be a platform for exchange, expression and discussion, you will read more than one voice on two of the major exhibitions of this year (no, not on Matthew Barney!). Some weeks ago, Bill Arnold sent me his impressions on Thomas Struth's retrospective at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Sarah Gaylor contacted me from New York, where she is a student in the Whitney program, and proposed to write a review of Strangers, the International Center of Photography first triennial. Both have interesting analyses that diverge from mine and that I want to share them with you.

In conversations with Vincent Lavoie (Montreal's Mois de la Photo) and Brian Wallis (ICP), I heard the arguments of two passionate curators with very documented and articulate approaches to the contemporary scene in photography, film, and video. For them (as for the two other curators of ICP's triennial, but, unfortunately, we did not share any conversation) the melange des genres as a creative force advocated by William Shakespeare and Victor Hugo is a key issue. Variety around a strong central concept is a stimulating and learning experience that Now (Montreal), Strangers (ICP), and the 2003 edition of the Rencontres d'Arles (France) have created for their audiences. Their catalogues not only engage the readers' eyes but their minds as well. Five pages in this issue are dedicated to this new trend in group exhibitions/festivals. Art-making should not and is not the sole practice of a small elite. Art is being made every day, everywhere the human spirit is at play, establishing connections, creating dazzling concatenations of signs, words, images, shapes, and sounds. Art is about associations, mental representations and their expression. It requires vision and something, call it skill or craft, to express it in a way that communicates with and moves the viewer. Dangerous Curves, the work by Blaise Tobia, is an illustration of these practices, as well as the analysis that Joseph Gregory wrote about it. Gregory's voice makes Tobia's views of vernacular landscapes ring like symphonies (pp. 9-11).

Seth Thompson tackled the challenge set by the innovative and constantly moving field of New Media. He explored for us the possibilities offered by non-linear writing and digital technologies as used by Mark Amerika, Toni Dove, Tennessee Rice Dixon, and the Troika Ranch company (pp.12-13).

In October, in the US, public television (PBS) created an event that kept most of us, blues fans, riveted in front of our televisions every night for a week. Martin Scorcese invited several film directors to join him in his effort to define and document one of the oldest, most authentic, and most vernacular of American musical genres: the Blues. In several hours of interviews, performances, original documents, and fiction, they all gave their versions-visions of "the Blues", from Scorcese to Clint Eastwood. Wim Wenders was one of them who, again, blended reportage and fiction, art and science, color and black and white, and created a seamless document for the entertainment and the education of "viewers like us." Wenders's testimony went under the microscope of Kevin Anderson who is sharing his thoughts with us (p.14).

Regarding testimonies, our reliable correspondent on the west coast, Thomas McGovern, shared with us his experience of a Dave Hickey conference. Those of us who were at the 2002 Las Vegas annual conference of the Society for Photographic Education will have confirmation of their impressions there (p.15).

Two new books on Diane Arbus have just been released: Revelations and Family Albums. Obviously both, from their titles, try to exploit documents and images that have not been previously published in order to give us a better understanding of the photographer's world. Had she not committed suicide we may not be submitted to this. However, Revelations (a traveling exhibition) was created under the supervision of both Sandra Phillips and Diane Arbus's daughter, Doon, and this only could have motivated Frederick Gross. Read more on page 16 and page 17.

Last but not least, the Visual Studies Workshop, under its new director, Chris Burnett, is reclaiming ground. With the substantial help of SUNY Brockport, and one of its librarians, Sally Petty, the Research Center has reopened its doors to the students and the public. Gradually access is regained to the print collection, the impressive collection of artist' books, and shelves of books dedicated to the visual arts. Incredible documents (and sometimes hilarious as published in this issue) from the Soibelman Syndicate News Agency and the Fox Movie Flash company are being exhumed and catalogued by Andrew Eskind. Andrew is a specialist in the field who, for years, worked in the George Eastman House archives.

All in all this issue of Afterimage is meant as final look at 2003 before winter brings us to the next year (and for those of us who live in Rochester, winter is serious matter).

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]