Marco Buonocore's photostream  

Passersby see, perhaps, an angular man out for a stroll at an unorthodox time on the edges of civilized day, but on my photographic jaunts, I am actually a hunter of patterns: in the colliding lightness and dark, in the linear compositions of urbanity, in the visual silence. I stalk the cityscape, so full of radiant wastelands, fading commercial extravaganzas, brightly shadowed nooks and crannies. I look beyond the obvious, past the hustling bustle, to locate something in the solitary stillness, hiding in plain sight within the hyper-paced sprawl.

When I choose a frame, I am singling out both space and moment. Capturing it clarifies that scene, isolating it and imposing a meaning that didn’t exist before I settled upon that fortuitous convergence of light and pattern. The sensation is fleeting and my finger clicking the shutter must catch it before that instant vanishes.

These moments are partly the result of instinct; what has emerged through my lens is not fully realized until I reach the darkroom. Early printing sessions tell a great deal about a photograph’s potential. Negatives scattered on top of the light table surprise me with unexpected connections; like reading tea leaves in an empty cup.

I rely on simple equipment to carry out my work. A Rolleiflex camera from the 1960’s with a Zeiss Planar lens, Kodak Tri-X film, and a Durst 138s enlarger from Bolzano, Italy. I develop my film, make work prints, and finally exhibition prints in the Gallery 44 darkroom in the basement of the 401 Richmond building at Spadina and Richmond.