Probably due to a full day spent with my friends from ars-imago (check out their new blog too - Italian only, sorry. Grab a dictionary, it's worth it!), champions of the preservation of analog photography and, inevitably, b&w geeks, this morning I went looking for monochrome artists and ran into Robert Schlotter. He creates both rigorous urban landscapes (in color too) and portraiture, as well as blurred and dream-like visions that could come from the use of old lenses, pinhole, zone plates or who knows which other romantic procedure that make a few of us (but we're always more, beware) long for images made with our own hands. All this provided Schlotter's work is analog, which could very well not be, since his German-only website leaves me with no information. And that further proves how nostalgic of some 'back in the day' I am - but I have my good reasons.
Probabilmente a causa di un giorno intero speso con gli amici di ars-imago (date un'occhiata anche al loro neonato blog), paladini della fotografia analogica e, inevitabilmente, fanatici del bianco e nero, questa mattina mi sono messo in cerca di qualche artista monocromatico e mi sono imbattuto in Robert Schlotter. Il suo lavoro è fatto prevalentemente di rigorose scene di paesaggio urbano (anche a colori) e diversi ritratti, ma anche di visioni lontane, granulose e velate, nate forse dall'uso di vecchie lenti, fori stenopeici, zone plates o chissà quale altro romantico procedimento che alcuni manipoli (ma stiamo crescendo, attenti) perseguono in nome dell'amore per le immagini fatte con le proprie mani. Il tutto ammesso che il lavoro di Schlotter sia davvero realizzato con uno di questi procedimenti, visto che il suo sito in sola lingua tedesca non mi rivela alcuna informazione. E questo fatto dimostra ancora di più come io sia nostalgico di una qualche distante età d'oro - ma in fondo ho le mie ragioni.
All images from memories and how to get them © Robert Schlotter
Monday, March 29, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Asger Carlsen, Wrong, 2010
In what is becoming a deja vu intro to several entries on this blog, Danish and New York based Asger Carlsen is the latest to join the ever-growing group of photographers who decided to expand Sultan and Mandel's 1977 book Evidence. After all, it was just 59 images, we all loved it and it would have been great if there was a way to turn it into some kind of monthly or even weekly update: this way so we really would have had our photo version of X-Files.
So, once more: black and white, flash, ordinary people in ordinary places doing weird things with weird objects, this time often breaking the mistery by really showing freaky creatures, men with two faces or with awfully protruding eyes and lots more.
About his book Wrong, his website soberly states: "Asger Carlsen’s series of haunting and disturbing images denote a twisted world in daily happenings. In some cases subtly surreal and in other blatantly blasted with dystopian hallucinations, Asger's work is visionary and original. [...] "Wrong" has broke through the looking glass into a parallel visual culture, thus creating strikingly original images as well as commenting on the current trend of photographic culture." 33 years ago, Mandel and Sultan just said that their book was 'a poetic exploration upon the restructuring of imagery'.
Find a short R'n'R interview with Carlsen here (no mention of Evidence, btw).
Mike Mandel & Larry Sultan, Evidence, 1977
In ciò che sta per diventare un'introduzione deja vu a diversi post su questo blog, il fotografo danese (di base a New York) Asger Carlsen è l'ultimo ad unirsi al gruppo di fotografi che hanno deciso di perpetuare la memoria di Evidence, il libro di Mike Mandel e Larry Sultan del 1977. Dopo tutto conteneva solo 59 immagini, lo abbiamo amato tutti e sarebbe stato bello poterlo far diventare una specie di uscita periodica, così avremmo avuto una vera e propria versione fotografica di X-Files.
Quindi, ancora una volta: bianco e nero, lampi di flash, gente ordinaria in luoghi ordinari che fa cose strane con oggetti strani, questa volta andando al di là del mistero, con creature assurde, uomini con due teste, occhi fuori dalle orbite e molto altro.
Asger Carlsen, Wrong, 2010
A proposito del suo libro Wrong, il sito riporta sobriamente: "Le inquietanti immagini di Asger Carlsen’s ci mostrano un mondo distorto nascosto in piccoli fatti quotidiani. A volte sottilmente surreale, altre ancora in preda a distopiche allucinazioni, il suo lavoro è visionario e originale. [...] Wrong infrange lo specchio e ci porta dentro una cultura visiva parallela, creando immagini estremamente originali e riflettendo sulle tendenze attuali della cultura fotografica."
33 anni fa, Mandel and Sultan dissero semplicemente che il loro libro era "un'indagine poetica attorno ad una riorganizzazione dell'immaginario".
Qui trovate un'intervista molto R'n'R con Carlsen (nessuna menzione di Evidence, tra l'altro).
Mike Mandel & Larry Sultan, Evidence, 1977
Sunday, March 21, 2010
BND - STANDORT PULLACH, 2006
Whether he shows us a concentration camp, a former intelligence headquarter, the interior of bunkers or the site of a former mine, the work of Andreas Magdanz seems to be mostly devoted to investigate what a place can hide or show of its past. Vision is deceptive, and memories often try to build themselves through expectations: what do we really do when we try to remember or imagine the past through our eyes? That is what perhaps Magdanz keeps asking through his exploration of one place after the other, theatres of secrets he maybe wants to expose.
PS Magdanz has just released what he describes as "a worldwide first: A perfectly animated photo book for the iPhone and iPodTouch", a digital version of his book Dienststelle Marienthal, about the former government bunker built in the Ahr Vallery in Germany.
Expect more to come with the release of the bigger platform provided by the iPad: a new publishing fronteer?
Che sia un campo di concentramento, una struttura dei servizi segreti, gli interni di bunker sotterranei o il sito di una miniera abbandonata, Andreas Magdanz sembra comunque votato a indagare ciò che un luogo può nascondere o mostrare del suo passato. Il nostro vedere può essere ingannevole, la memoria a volte si costruisce su aspettative: che cosa facciamo davvero quando cerchiamo di ricordare o immaginare un tempo passato attraverso i nostri occhi? Questo è forse il dilemma che Magdanz ripropone con le sue esplorazioni, un luogo dopo l'altro, teatri di segreti che cerca di svelare.
PS Magdanz ha da poco realizzato quello che lui stesso definisce "un debutto assoluto: una libro fotografico completamente animato per iPhone e iPodTouch", la versione digitale del suo libro Dienststelle Marienthal, l'ex bunker governativo che fu costruito in Germania nella valle dell'Ahr.
Molti altri libri digitali probabilmente arriveranno in futuro, specialmente con la più ampia piattaforma di uso che verrà fornita dall'iPad. Una nuova frontiera editoriale?
Screen shot of the iPhone version of the book Dienststelle Marienthal
All images © Andreas Magdanz
Friday, March 19, 2010
Giulio Favotto is a young photographer from Northern Italy. His depiction of (often) empty spaces, the rigorous compositions where people and things are shown either through their presence or through their absence, a disapppearance that you can almost breathe in the air (yes, you can photograph something like the air) evoke the work of other photographers who shaped our vision of those lands and who gave so much to the Italian landscape photography.
Giulio Favotto è un giovane fotografo che vive nel Nord Italia. Il suo modo di rappresentare spazi (spesso) vuoti, le sue composizioni rigorose dove persone e cose vengono mostrate con la loro stessa presenza ma anche tramite un'assenza, una sparizione che ancora si respira nell'aria (si, in fondo si può fotografare qualcosa come l'aria) evocano il lavoro di altri fotografi che hanno formato il nostro immaginario di quelle terre, e che tanto hanno dato (e stanno dando) alla fotografia di paesaggio italiana.
All images from Ipotesi di Paesaggio. Il Rubicone, 2008 © Giulio Favotto
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Matthew Gamber, Ishihara Test in Lightbrite, 2010
"I once taught a color photography class where I had one particular student who would not participate in any class discussions. However, I knew from other classes that he was an excellent student. Later I discovered he was colorblind. Talking about color had no meaning for him. "
Photographers who also teach sometimes make interesting lessons in the shape of portfolios, using their own images as concepts they want to express. Abelardo Morell is the most obvious example, with his camerae obscurae and his series about books, money or other everyday objects gaining new life from his compositions and his exquisite black and white. A rich greyscale can maybe provide that visual quiet that allow images to be gently analytical, little eurekas that seem to show us what has always been under our nose but still we have missed.
So does Morell, and with him Matthew Gamber (found via Shane Lavalette), with works like Any Color You Like, a visual catalogue of the existence of color in our lives (shot in b&w), or This is (Still) the Golden Age, fading photograms made by pressing photographic paper on the TV screen.
These images remind me of Stardust by Jean Christian Bourcart, photographs of the images appearing on the glass that separates the projection cabin from the public space of a movie theatre: "quasi-images" before any clear shape, or any clear sense. "Abstraction wins over Hollywood. All is to be imagined anew", as he says.
Matthew Gamber, Untitled (Chalkboard 4), 2006
"Una volta ho insegnato in un corso di fotografia a colori dove c'era uno studente che non interveniva mai nelle discussioni. Sapevo da altri docenti che in realtà era un ottimo studente; in seguito ho scoperto che era daltonico. Parlare di colore per lui non significava niente."
Fotografi che sono anche docenti a volte creano delle lezioni in forma di portfolio fotografico, utilizzando le loro stesse immagini come concetti che vogliono esprimere. Abelardo Morell è l'esempio più ovvio, con le sue Camerae Obscurae o le serie sui libri, il denaro o altri oggetti che prendono nuova vita con le sue composizioni e il suo splendido bianco e nero. Una bella scala di grigi forse crea proprio quella quiete visiva che permette alle immagini di essere gentilmente analitiche, piccoli eureka che sembrano mostrarci ciò che è sempre stato sotto il nostro naso ma non abbiamo mai notato. Insieme a Morell c'è anche Matthew Gamber (scoperto via Shane Lavalette), con lavori come Any Color You Like, un catalogo delle manifestazioni del colore nelle nostre vite (realizzato in bianco e nero), oppure This is (Still) the Golden Age, evanescenti fotogrammi creati pressando la carta fotografica sull schermo televisivo.
Matthew Gamber, Beaver, from Leave it to Beaver, 2007
Da qui poi la memoria va a Stardust di Jean Christian Bourcart, fotografie delle immagini che si fermano sul vetro che separa la cabina di proiezione dallo schermo cinematografico, "quasi-immagini" prima di ogni forma, prima di ogni significato. "L'astrazione vince su Hollywood. Tutto deve essere immaginato di nuovo".
Jean Christian Bourcart, from Stardust, 2005-2006
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Seba Kurtis, from Shoebox
Seba Kurtis has a brand new website with a lot of work to see, both photographic and video. His narrative full of private memories, displacement, hope, resistance and much else now seems to have reached a new and broader dimension - where you can find poetry even in the back (literally, the back) of some family photos.
Seba Kurtis, from Shoebox
Seba Kurtis ha da poco lanciato il suo nuovo sito, dove amplia la selezione dei lavori presentati, sia fotografici che video. La sua narrativa fatta di memorie personali, spaesamento, speranza e resistenza sembra prendere un nuovo e più ampio respiro, tanto da arrivare a scoprire una forma di poesia perfino nel retro di alcune fotografie di famiglia.
Seba Kurtis, from A surface smoothed down by death
Monday, March 15, 2010
"With a silver gelatin print you are placing the image into the paper – not on top of the paper. [...] It is what people are usually referring to when they say there is something 'different' between a well printed ink jet and a well printed silver print.
They are responding to the physical nature of the printed images."
I always felt something like that, and it was a pleasure to delve into these thoughts and much more with photographer and black and white printer Jim Megargee, who showed me how there is still a lot to talk about, beyond any trite 'analog vs digital' cliche.
Enjoy the read.
"In una stampa ai sali d'argento l'immagine è dentro la carta, non sulla superficie del foglio. [...] È la differenza che molte persone sentono tra il guardare un'ottima stampa a getto d'inchiostro e un'altrettanto ottima ai sali d'argento.
Si tratta della diversa reazione che si ha alla natura fisica delle immagini stampate."
Ho sempre provato una sensazione simile, per cui è stato un piacere dilungarmi su questo e molto altro con Jim Megargee, fotografo e stampatore in bianco e nero, che mi ha dimostrato come ci sia ancora tanto da dire sull'argomento, al di là di qualsiasi banale cliché attorno al 'digitale vs analogico'.
FABIO SEVERO: How did you become a b&w printer? What made you choose this profession?
JIM MEGARGEE: I became a professional printer more by chance than choice. I had just moved into New York City in early 1989 after leaving a teaching position at Rochester Institute of Technology. One day I received a call from a former student asking if I would be interested in a few days printing work at the Annie Leibovitz Studio. Eager to work with someone at that caliber, and that level, I immediately accepted the job. The project Ms. Leibovitz had been working on was for the American Ballet Theatre; I was asked if I would be interested in working on the 1970-1990 retrospective that Ms. Leibovitz was just starting to plan. I accepted working on all her other projects, staying with the Ms. Leibovitz studio for four years and working on all her black and white work. Then in 1994 I opened MV Labs with my partner Cornelia van der Linde - almost 17 years ago. So I suppose you could say that my becoming a professional printer was purely serendipitous. Although I had always been keenly aware of the role that a ‘fine’ print played in the total understanding of an image, and had trained myself for years to be the best possible printer I could be for my own work.
FS: You are also a photographer. How do printing and photographing dialogue with each other for you? Can the work you do as a printer for other people be an inspiration for new directions in your own photography?
JM: It is much easier printing for oneself than printing for someone else. And by easy I mean that you know at what moment the print is ‘right’. When it is saying all that you wish to have it say. When it communicates your first and final intent because you are speaking to yourself and you understand your own personal language. We get a few job requests from people that wish to work with us as a printer, for example. Usually they will have a few years experience or so of printing their own work. They will generally feel that this qualifies them to be making exhibition prints for someone else. This is just not the case. To become a ‘Master Printer’ takes skills that go beyond the darkroom. For example when you are printing for someone else there is a period of time when you both have to learn each other’s language, so to speak. Meaning that you as the photographer have to be able to communicate to me clearly what your photograph is about beyond the obvious. I often say that I can see that it is a photograph of a tree (for example), but what about the tree. What do you wish to say about the tree? Why did you photograph this tree and not the one next to it? These might sound like silly questions to some, but to the printer - your interpreter - these help get to the core of the beginning of the interpretation. Then the process can become a true collaboration. This is when we can begin to find inspiration in each other’s work. Some image-makers are easier to print for than others, and some are impossible. I have found that it is much easier to work with someone who has printed for themselves before. The reason is that they understand what can, and more importantly, what cannot be done in the darkroom.
FS: Can you tell us how the ever-increasing presence of digital into photography has changed your job? Have there been different steps in the transition from a full analog world to the present day? How would you also define today’s situation and do you think things will change furthermore for analog printing?
JM: Firstly, I know that the so-called phase ‘analog photography’ is often used today to describe what we primarily do here at MV Labs. But I find that term to be one used mainly by those that are deeply involved in digital. Those that never really left film usually refer to this as traditional media or photography. Sorry, I had to say that. Digital has actually had very little impact on ‘how’. There are certain types of work that we just no longer see here. Magazine work, for example, is seldom sent to us unless it is a job that the photographer has insisted be done with film, or if it is an image that they just can’t handle with digital. An example is a recent issue of Rolling Stone magazine special edition on the 25th anniversary of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It was shot by Mark Seliger, and Mark insisted that film be shot rather than digital. Or last Spring and Summer we ran some 500-plus rolls of film for one of our better known clients for a special issue of TIME magazine. I do my job. It has had an impact of the traditional lab as a whole in terms of the business. To make up some of the difference we opened a conversation and art supply website, www.mvconservation.com, that is run by Cornelia. And we have a full time Gallery of Photography at our new location at 4 West 37th Street in NYC.
Since the ‘digital revolution’ our situation as a whole has become much more custom-oriented. We work on more books, exhibitions and special projects than we had before. Much of the work is personal projects that the photographers have a great commitment to that you don’t normally see in the everyday magazine work. So I suppose in some respect the work we are doing today is as rewarding as any we have done in the last 20 some years at MV. And because we are one of the last of a breed, so to speak, we have people from all over the world seeking out our services and consultation.
What will continue to change however is that our services will become more and more specialized and more in demand as fewer and fewer places will offer them. But also because fewer and fewer of those of us who have the type of in-depth knowledge of this mediums (traditional) techniques and possibilities will be around to ask the questions of.
FS: I always thought that a photograph is made of all the steps necessary to create it, from framing the scene with the camera to the final print hanging on a wall. At some stage one might even wonder, depending on the photographic work, who is really the author of the image, who managed to make those qualities come out of the negative, between the photographer and the printer. No surprise, after all, that some of the most exquisite black and white artists print their own work, like Sally Mann and Hiroshi Sugimoto. Did you ever feel that the final work was somehow shared between you and the photographer?
JM: This is usually true and always necessary for the most expressive work to be accomplished. There are few thoughts that I keep in mind when discussing this issue. As I am often asked similar questions. Ansel Adams once stated that “the negative was the score and the print was the performance”. Another is that Paul Klee once stated that great work is created when there is the proper marriage between the artist’s “ideal and material” means. It is never about one or the other alone – the taking or the printing. They are of equal importance in my mind.
In a related thought, as I tell to students, is that your technique is really your language. It is your vocabulary. And you can have extremely important things to say but not have the language skills to communicate your vision clearly. Of course the reverse is also (and it seems more prevalent) true. Many have an extraordinary vocabulary and little or nothing to say or add to the image making history of the medium.
FS: I have the feeling that the industry of analog photographic products is simply surviving and not evolving, relying on a relatively small niche of users. I wonder if the research on quality of films and paper emulsions and all sorts of chemicals could have been still carried steadily as it was 20 or 30 years ago but with today’s technology, maybe now we would have an amount of excellent products that could have pushed the quality and the possibilities of analog photography even further than what we are used to. While digital photography is constantly changing, analog photography seems to be frozen in a limbo where there’s no space for research of new solutions and products. Is that the real situation?
JM: The techniques that are and have been a part of traditional photography have, in reality, changed very little since it was first introduced. Photosensitive emulsions on some sub straight, developers, fixers, etc. There have been advancements in these basic necessities through the years and if you were to be using them on a daily basis you would see that they continue to be developed by their manufactures. And the gloom and doom of their ultimate demise is greatly over exaggerated. A usually missing element here is that it has never been about the materials or the equipment used. It has always been about the person standing with and using that material or equipment. That seems a bit lost it the “digital world” – maybe it is because it is so equipment oriented and dependent. And to produce the very highest quality it is necessary to have the absolute finest in the currently available equipment (scanners / printers). This alone makes for a very different approach. Myself for example have printed exhibitions out of small apartment closets in the past with far less than the most expensive equipment. Also – I believe it is a misstatement to say that digital is really changing. It is more as if it is refining upon a basic idea.
FS: Among collectors, critics and all over the Internet there seem to be a growing debate over how to properly evaluate digital craftsmanship. With analog photography it was kind of easier to appreciate (or not) a print: digital editions are more obscure objects, to which we tend to forgive a lack of quality we would have never allowed in front of an analog print. Maybe it is due to the plethora of printing techniques and papers (not even a ‘C-print’ label is guarantee of a specific and unique process anymore), but tech specs seem to have taken over some of the plain and simple visual evaluation. What is your opinion about that?
JM: This is a very, I believe, overlooked issue. Not just in the ‘real world’ but also in photographic education. The question is really “what standards are being applied and who is creating them”? I have seen some very well know photographers digital prints that were unforgivably horrible. Lacking any type of nuance in their presentation. I don’t necessarily blame them because they were getting the same results from darkroom prints that they were making on their own. But the ease of digital printing has become very seductive to many photographers. The problem is many have no basis to compare their results to. If you don’t understand how it is supposed to look – how can you get there? I’m of the old school in that I think all photographic students should have a hands-on appreciation of what a “Fine” print is supposed to look like and what are the variations that are based upon these very well established values. We all seem to forget that digital is a very, very, very young medium. It is still trying to find what will be its true niche within the larger picture. And when a “new” printing technique is introduced it is given a lot leeway until this happens. I always think of Jerry Uelsmann’s work as an example of what digital should be capable of but somehow still is not. And yet Jerry performs all his exceptional images in a darkroom. So once again we come to the most basic of facts, that it is the person, not the equipment or materials.
FS: The eternal question: do you think digital postproduction can provide the same quality that a state of the art developing and printing process offers? Is analog printing an old-fashioned technique or does it still make what is unachievable otherwise?
JM: It is impossible to predict the future, but at this point I do not see that happening. In fact I had a detailed discussion with two well known photographers just this week about certain recent developments and improvements in digital; papers, inks and equipment. The one overwhelming thing I kept hearing (in between the lines) was compromises in the comparisons between digital and silver. It seemed that they were settling for less than they knew was possible. This is not to say that I have not seen some exceptionally beautiful ink jet prints. I have. But there is a very, very basic difference between the two mediums.
With a digital print you can select from seemingly endless types, surfaces, and weights of papers. Several different ink types are also available (gloss, semi gloss, matt, etc.) as well as variations on the idea of black and grays. What seems like an endless number of choices to make even before beginning to approach the print itself. Those of us that work with traditional media have far fewer options. Paper choices are much, much less. Of course we do the option of mixing developer formulas to create various tones and colors in the papers but even that is restricted to a point. The basic difference though has nothing to do with any of these issues. It is in the way the image itself is created on the sheet of paper. With digital media you are placing ink on to a paper’s surface. Much the way all traditional offset printing is done. In a way you are creating a very high quality poster. The difference being that under proper storage conditions the ink jet print will last about 150 years (according to recent research).
With a silver gelatin print you are placing the image into the paper – not on top of the paper.
You are actually creating an etching of metallic silver. There is a measurable depth in the print that cannot be achieved with an ink jet print. The ink either sinks into the paper at the same level or rides on the surface. It is what people are usually referring to when they say there is something “different” between a well printed ink jet and a well printed silver print. They are responding to the physical nature of the printed images. We seem to also forget that the digital media was first developed as a color medium, not a black and white medium. And all programs, etc. lean to that simple fact. Most people that I know who are serious about their black and white digital printing end up using third party software rather than the one that came with their printers.
So I suppose your last question is the correct answer as I see it. After all, where else can you get the quality and beauty you can from a platinum print? Only from a platinum printer. Not from a digital printer and not from a silver printer. Each has its uniqueness and beauty. But up until now it seems that the choice of digital over traditional (for most) is one of economics rather than of quality. And that they see the learning curve in understanding the darkroom over digital steeper. There are some photographers that were clients of ours that we no longer see and then hear that they are out putting their own prints at home or in their studios.
FS: Many young or emerging photographers seem to choose colour rather than b&w. I've been told that Todd Papageorge used to tell his students to ask themselves "Why colour?" before leaving the b&w aside, while now there are people thinking that the question today would be "Why b&w". What do you think about that?
JM: We used to say that when you shoot in B&W your concerns are "Form and Content" but when shooting in color its "Form, Content and now also Color". So the question comes about - is the color necessary to the understanding of the subject? Much early fine art color photography was mostly about the color and not the subject. Today that is much different as people like Alex Webb for instance brought the 3 together. I can not ‘see’ Alex's images in anything other than the way they were intended - in color.
FS: Do you think that the spreading of colour in photography shifted the styles and subject matters that are more suitable for b&w? What would be the best use of b&w in photography for you today?
JM: There are several photographers that understand the power and reason for choosing B&W over color. Most are in documentary or journalism, with a few in Fine Arts. A look at the work of Jim Goldberg shows someone that has a deep understanding of how and why to use color and/or black and white. Antonin Kratochvil has a grasp of black and white that he has turned into a personal vocabulary. His work done in color would not have the same impact or meaning. Then there is James Nachtwey - his most powerful work to date is mostly in black and white. It does not need the color to make its points and move you. In the end its about the photographers ability to connect with their subject – color, black and white are really a secondary issue. Younger photographers have a direct connection to color that we older image-makers do not have because of when we came of age in the medium. For most of them I'm sure that they have a more difficult ‘seeing’ in black and white. Digital has given them a short course in color and I really believe they mostly ‘see’ in color.
All images © Jim Megargee
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
From Unless You Will #5:
"Tuesdays which feel like mondays and months slipping by in no time. Once again, I can not believe another month has passed, but below is the new issue of UYW.
At the heart of this journal you’ll find five artists who use photography as an art that transforms their world into stills, touching upon telling stories that strive for new visions. Often I imagine them to work in complete silence, their eyes trained intensely on refinement. These images are a little love affair which seduce and hypnotise - they are a source of inspiration, perfectly balanced and reduced to their most basic essence."
Darren Rigo > displacement
Fabio Severo > portraits
Justin Walker > fathers mine
Rodolfo Vanmarcke > modern solitudes
Steven Beckly > little wolf
Thank you, Heidi.