The origin of Jorma Puranen’s photographic series Shadows, Reflections, and All That Sort of Thing lies in his profound interest in the mechanisms of memory: in archives, collections and histories of art. In this case his point of reference is the genre of portrait painting. Since 1997 Puranen has photographed portraits from the seventeenth to the nineteenth century, but in an improper way, as the models themselves might declaim, if they had a voice. By photographing fragments of old paintings with a calculated effect of shine and shadow, Puranen decodes the historical object and educates the contemporary eye to look at the painted face, the person, the portrait, which is always – even in an idealized form – a representation of something real, something that once existed, and something made to be remembered by generations.

Jorma Puranen is particularly interested in the resources of his medium to speak on the level of memory, by unfolding the forgotten past. In an interview the artist has said that while photographing the portraits in various collections he was actually kind of knocking on the frame, asking if there was anyone in, as if the models were just asleep. And, indeed, they have woken up! The act of photographing itself is a resurrection for the individual person in each painting, a raided face which might not have been looked at so keenly for centuries. Puranen leaves the photographed persons anonymous, not naming or renaming them. They are all relocated in the faceless continuum of time, in the endless cycle of repeated variations.

As the format for his photographs Puranen has chosen a ‘passport’ image or a bust shot, often zooming close to a person’s face, leaving the frames out of view. No painted details are visible on the background, as they have disappeared deep in the darkness or under the bright areas created by reflections of the light. The paintings are spotlighted unevenly, in an exaggerated manner, partly blinding the eyes of the viewer and making the original image hover in a ghostly state between appearance and disappearance.

The strong reflecting light in Puranen’s photography is unlike an X-ray, which is able to go through the surface. Instead, the strong lights bounce off like an echo or adhere to some details which were not supposed to be seen. In some parts the surface is flat and slippery, which makes the light glide and spread its white glow all over – especially in the portraits painted on wood panels, which create different types of reflection than the ones painted on canvas. In front of the inspecting light, dark varnish and yellowed linseed oil can hardly cover flaws or protect the intimacy of the models: all the cracks and rims on the skin of the texture and in the painted layers are revealed as only for the conservator’s professional eye.

In some photographs the depicted person appears to be the very source of the illumination, bathing in the radiation of mystical light. A halo around the model’s head or a transparent veil of light in front of the face reveals the method by which the illusion of the presence of the depicted person was created by the painter, how the brushstrokes form a unique topography in each painting. Capricious reflections of light on the surface draw attention to the original location of paintings on the walls of private residencies, lit by guttering candles. The varying appearance of light either as white opaque surface or semi-transparent film often highlights the gaze of the model, whose eye has an intensified look. In some photographs the noble nose takes the role of protagonist, sniffing us curiously through dusty centuries.

Photographed reflections, the division of light and shadow on a painting’s surface can illuminate something completely new, a vision to be seen only in a split second. The method of visual echo adapted by Puranen in his photographs to recall and recapture persons and places refers to Plato’s idea of art as a mere reflection of reality, the reality in reflections: “By ‘images’ I mean first shadows, then reflections in water and other close-grained, polished surfaces, and all that sort of thing…”¹

Visual ‘mistakes’ in Jorma Puranen’s photographs are premeditated. He is unfolding layers from the past, not in a rational, scientific way, but as an artist guided by an inner vision and an innovative spirit. In his newer series Icy Prospect (2005–2006) Puranen has given the reflection a more autonomous role as the mediator in the process of image-making. Here the photo artist has adapted the role of a conceptual landscape painter by photographing views of nature reflected on shiny surfaces on black painted wooden boards. The results could be envied by any true painter.

¹ Quotation of Plato’s “Republic” as translated in “A Short History of the Shadow” (Essays in Art & Culture) by Victor Stoichita, page 24, Reaktion Books Ltd, Printed in Great Britain, 1999.