Tim Ross
The work Hermann uses archival material from my grandfather as a foundation to reflect and critique the position and power of the image. The piece contemplates
the depiction of violence, our interaction with visual media, and asks how the digital image alters and reshapes our perception of reality.
My grandfather served in the German military during the Second World War. He was only 20, returning at the end of the war at 25 — the same age I am right now. He stored these tents in his attic since his return in 1945, and the image is a reprint of a negative from his archive, among other photos he took during the war.
Today, most of the images we consume are digital, mediated through online space. This work functions as an antithesis, creating a moment of suspense for the audience to linger. The piece opposes the rapid pace of contemporary media and the expectation that everything must be instantly consumable.
The work engages with the image as a tool for communication, and the increasing difficulty of deciphering its meaning and authenticity. What if I told you that I bought this tent off someone on eBay? Or that the image of my grandfather is extended with the help of AI?
Hermann is an act of confrontation, a meditation on memory, media, and complicity. Images assume a certain transparency and an access to truth — but how is the act of onlooking itself entangled with power?
The book “On politics of perception (Cans of Worms)” is composed of over 70 different artistic, contextual references and works by Tim Ross, On Politics of Perception uses Tim’s grandfather’s archive from WWII as a point of departure to criticise and reflect on contemporary image culture and consumption. The book focuses on questions regarding depictions of violence and our personal interactions with screen-based realities. The interrogative nature of the publication passes through emotional, intellectual and artistic layers— considering topics that sometimes drown in the midst of our everyday.
It aims to address the complex relationship we have with the image—an object we interact with on a daily basis, yet barely know how to decipher and often blindly trust.












Tim Ross












The work Hermann uses archival material from my grandfather as a foundation to reflect and critique the position and power of the image. The piece contemplates
the depiction of violence, our interaction with visual media, and asks how the digital image alters and reshapes our perception of reality.
My grandfather served in the German military during the Second World War. He was only 20, returning at the end of the war at 25 — the same age I am right now. He stored these tents in his attic since his return in 1945, and the image is a reprint of a negative from his archive, among other photos he took during the war.
Today, most of the images we consume are digital, mediated through online space. This work functions as an antithesis, creating a moment of suspense for the audience to linger. The piece opposes the rapid pace of contemporary media and the expectation that everything must be instantly consumable.
The work engages with the image as a tool for communication, and the increasing difficulty of deciphering its meaning and authenticity. What if I told you that I bought this tent off someone on eBay? Or that the image of my grandfather is extended with the help of AI?
Hermann is an act of confrontation, a meditation on memory, media, and complicity. Images assume a certain transparency and an access to truth — but how is the act of onlooking itself entangled with power?
The book “On politics of perception (Cans of Worms)” is composed of over 70 different artistic, contextual references and works by Tim Ross, On Politics of Perception uses Tim’s grandfather’s archive from WWII as a point of departure to criticise and reflect on contemporary image culture and consumption. The book focuses on questions regarding depictions of violence and our personal interactions with screen-based realities. The interrogative nature of the publication passes through emotional, intellectual and artistic layers— considering topics that sometimes drown in the midst of our everyday.
It aims to address the complex relationship we have with the image—an object we interact with on a daily basis, yet barely know how to decipher and often blindly trust.
BLURRING THE LINES
FOSTERING TALENT AND NETWORKING IN VISUAL CULTURE
Program Leader
Partners



BLURRING THE LINES
FOSTERING TALENT AND NETWORKING IN VISUAL CULTURE
Program Leader

Partners


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