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Frank van der Salm’s large photographs imbue the buildings on modern-day peripheries with a singular aura. As they are often only partially focused, they have the character of architectural models. Scale and topographical location are both treated as secondary, and yet the images promise a wealth of details that actually suggest themselves, only to disappear again. These austere subjects reject the eye’s need for the greatest possible sharpness, taunt the optic nerve and cause a slight unease in the face of perceived blank or at least cloudy spots. Moreover, everything that epitomizes the classical concept of landscape is faded out. What remains are the artificial structures of civilization: patterns made up of glass, steel, and asphalt, enhanced by colorful cars, and illuminated of course by countless artificial light sources. What is there, is there in abundance, creating an almost magical shimmer. But what do we see? We see everything and find out nothing. Frank van der Salm’s photographs are trenchant metaphors of modern visual communication. Dr. Boris von Brauchitsch (c) 2006 European Photography, Berlin