Jeff Wall Pawnshop, 2008
Like the overlooked song that creeps up on you in the shower or the book you have to re-read as soon as you get to the end, this image keeps nagging at my senses. When I saw it as a huge print at White Cube it pounded my brain like a pinball, lodged, then disseminated like a roman candle.
Walking around East London this morning I had discarded Christmas trees on my mind. Then when deciding to photograph a window full of crisp boxes the Pawn Shop came booming into my consciousness.
I love the muted colours of this photograph. The distanced empathy of the artist, the uncertainty between reality and artifice.
The impeccable construction.
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