Book Review: Pharmakon by Teju Cole
Teju Cole, from Pharmakon (MACK, 2024). Courtesy of the artist and MACK.
Written by Trip Avis
Photo Edited by Kelly Woodyard
Teju Cole’s Pharmakon conjures many descriptions: lonely and liminal, melancholy and transient, tranquil and forgotten. However, words—rather apropos given the book's photographic slant—fail to satisfactorily capture the spirit and atmosphere of the photographs. Instead, they conjure a feeling that knows no language or cipher, only the inner, fluctuating sensations of one’s heart and mind. Pharmakon produces a pervading sense of déjà-vu: you feel like you’ve driven these roads, rode these ferries, and walked these dusty garden paths.
Teju Cole, from Pharmakon (MACK, 2024). Courtesy of the artist and MACK.
For an artist who moonlights as the acclaimed novelist of Open City and Tremor, it is beguiling to see him produce such photographs that largely transcend the written word and enter into this nonverbal dreamscape. However, Cole combats this breathless effect by pairing the images with brief verbal passages. These stories mystify yet elevate the visual components. Just as the progression of images suggests a journey—punctuated by empty roads, beaches, bridges, and buildings—the stories carry a propelling motion that aligns spiritually with the photographs even when the subject matter doesn’t. While some pieces pulse nervously, others meander, lost but reflective.
Teju Cole, from Pharmakon (MACK, 2024). Courtesy of the artist and MACK.
Even when photographing, Teju Cole views the world with a writer’s eye. The details he notices, however banal, seem to capture and hold his attention. He savors them with his camera lens as he might with a pen or typewriter. His attention to detail is apparent in the twin pairing images of the same building at different hours. Cole captures the structure’s visual journey between day and night with a tender, observative focus. His eye—and camera lens—lingers over the grooves in stone columns, the brass braille on a varnished green door, a dead bird, its white plumage still crisp against the dull cement. This photographic journey is the sum of its parts; none will go unappreciated.
Cole’s decision to evade all human subjects in this globetrotting image hunt is a pointed choice. It perhaps suggests that humans ultimately perceive the world alone. We enter it and leave it alone. Life may be populated with others, and we strive to foster the connections that color our experiences and fill our hearts. However, what occurs between our ears, behind our eyes, and within our hearts is our solitary journey.
Teju Cole, from Pharmakon (MACK, 2024). Courtesy of the artist and MACK.
