We are, among other things, cameras. The light reaching and at play in the world around us is endlessly framed in often partial views of objects, from which our minds effortlessly extrapolate persons, places, things…animal, mineral, vegetable. Preceding frames and a life's stock of footage lend themselves to our almost infallible powers of identification, recognition and closure.
Take a single frame out of its overwhelming context—a task we confront daily in this age of photographic reproduction—and our minds, never outright stumped, can become entertained by the creative possibilities, searching for closure, attempting to resolve the image, to compute the correct answer. A hand is outstretched—to whom? Why? A corner, a slice, a building, a bridge. Which building? Which bridge? Wait. Arch? Apse? Dome??
Architectural artifacts, taken as a whole or in part, call out to photographers—architects of light—the world over to render the beauty inherent. Architecture simultaneously delivers the most regular and the most fantastic of forms for our utility, our appreciation, our enjoyment. In rearchitecture, one mind plays with recently encountered forms, attempting to re-contextualize parts into their wholes, ultimately netting only wholly new parts. The results are often a little off, but the subject's inherent beauty shines through, complemented by the beauty of the mind's creatively incorrect answers and alternate realities—some plausible, some not.
This mind invites you to look, see, enjoy.
Mark Reichert is an award-winning photographer who divides his time between Boca Raton, Florida and the rest of the world.