On the way to Kamtchatka “As a child, I made a collage that looked quite similar. I love sheep. Having sheep on the roof symbolises reconciliation with nature.”
German graphic designer Matthias Jung first constructed “surreal homes” as a boy, using scissors and glue in his father’s photo lab.
Land of evening “The ‘balloon’ in this image is from a photograph of a Gothic church I took in the small French city of Wissembourg. The landscape is a swamp area near the border with Poland.”
Taking photographs from his travels, Jung creates incongruous images that are intended to challenge perceptions of space and architecture. “Collages are like dreams,” he says, “or maybe dreams are like collages”
These images by photographer Lucas Zimmermann continues his Traffic Lights series which he started two years ago.
The simple concept captures traffic lights at 5–20 second long exposures late at night on a foggy intersection near Weimar, Germany.
Some adjustments were made in post-production to create the bluish tones of the green light in some of the pictures. The possibility that light is visible in fog fascinates me.
The unknown hue of blueish light is like the fog hidden for the human eye, but the photograph shows us things we otherwise overlook such as a simple traffic light on the street—a known object which produces a strong effect in an unnatural situation with a simple photographic setup.
See more of Lucas Zimmermann’s work on Behance or at his website.
In 1913 a photographer in Wuppertal, Germany, captured this image of the unique suspension railway that runs through the town, with cars hanging above the Wupper River.
The 13 km rail system known as the Wuppertaler Schwebebahn had just been completed 12 years before, and became well-used by locals—by 1925 the company claims it had transported almost 20 million passengers.
The Schwebebahn is also famous for an incident in 1950, when a young circus elephant named Tuffi was given a ride as a stunt.
Tuffi apparently was not a fan of the railway, causing a ruckus on board that led to her falling out a window, dropping 12 meters to the river below. Tuffi survived with just a scrape, living to the age of 43.
The Wuppertaler Schwebebahn remains in operation to this day, carrying around 25 million passengers a year.
The creation of Metropolis and its many versions is a fascinating story. Director Fritz Lang’s original cut of Metropolis was a financial flop and appeared in German theaters for only four months before it was pulled and recut.
The film premiered in Germany but was actually released to American theaters before it received a wide German release.
Strangely, American audiences never saw Fritz Lang’s edit of the film, since Paramount (the film’s American distributor) pre-emptively edited their version of the film.
If you get a chance, I highly recommend that you check out the 2010 documentary Voyage to Metropolis, about the many different versions of this film and its ultimate restoration in 2008 to an “original” version after the discovery of an old 16mm version of the film in Buenos Aires.
The Buenos Aires version is believed to be the closest to the original, with over 25 minutes more than any previously known edit, and Metropolis was released theatrically in 2010 with these additional (if badly scratched) scenes added.
I got to see the new cut two summers ago when it screened in Minneapolis and it really is gorgeous.
Just as different versions of this film are constantly resurfacing all around the world, I suspect different promotional materials — be they programs, magazines articles or movie posters — will continue to captivate historians and film fans hoping to learn more about how this classic piece of futurism was originally filmed and promoted.
In the case of this Science and Invention article the film was promoted to an audience interested in how science would be used in movie effects of the future.