urban ku # 183 ~ limited imagination - ouch!

Montral skyline #2 • click to embiggenWhile looking or info about a book, LS/L by Beate Gutschow, I came across a review of it by Jörg Colberg. The book is a photo book by a German photographer who is creating completely manufactured - in Photoshop, using bits and pieces of photos - landscape / cityscape pictures that look remarkably real.

Colberg likes the pictures in part because they are "... a prime and excellent example of the use of digital technologies in photography". He likes the use of digital technologies in photography because he thinks "... that digital technologies are least interesting where they are merely a different tool (and that's what most discussions still appear to be centered on) and most interesting where they enable doing something new."

Even though I tend to use digital technologies as a means to the same end - "traditional" pictures that are contingent upon the "real" world, I don't disagree with Colberg's statement. Despite what some think - that digital has "destroyed" photography's "truth", I think that digital technologies have opened up a new photo-genre, that is, expanded the possibilities of the medium.

But that is not why I bring up Colberg's review of the book. Rather, I am struck by the unveiled ferocity of his closing statement in defense of digital technologies;

Of course, you can stick with, say, street photography (ed. - or, in our case, nature / landscape photography) and say that there is just so much more out there to be seen than to be found in your own - limited - imagination. Beate Gütschow's LS/S very convincingly exposes the flaw in that thinking: There are no limits to photographic imagination.

IMO, this strikes directly at the heart of my recent unease(?) / dissatisfaction(?) / question mark (?) / something or other (?) with my "pure" ku picturing. Despite Mary Dennis' reminder that I am not "a very small insignificant piece of shit" photography-wise, I can't help but think that my ku are lacking in imagination - which is not, by any stretch, to say that they lack significant illustrative and illuminative properties and value. It's just that ... well ... as I mentioned ... um ... um .........

It's not that I don't really, really appreciate the work of photographers - to include me - who go out into the world and make pictures of the "real" thing. Far from it - some of my favorite work comes from that traditional genre. But, that said, it seems as though digital technologies, no matter if they are used as 'just another tool' or to make 'new' or altered realities, have upped the ante when it comes to using your imagination - that just adding your own "take" on what has already been done just doesn't seem to be enough anymore.

Any thoughts on the matter?

urban ku # 182 ~ décrépitude delicieux

Montreal skyline # 1 • click to embiggenThe wife and I spent the weekend in Montreal with the avowed intent of indulging in the pleasures of the flesh with a touch of those of the mind and heart as well.

This was quite a sacrifice for me as on this weekend was: 1) a Hockey Night in Pittsburgh, and 2) The Masters. Normally such a combination has me glued to the tube (the plasma? the LCD?), even if the sky is failing. Nevertheless, we struck a fine balance and a good time was had by all.

Part of my good time was enhanced by a last minute pre-trip idea - one that could only have happened in this digital age - I decided, about 2 hours before our departure, that since we would be in a neighborhood (the Old City) with several art galleries, I should bring a portfolio of my photography to show around.

Now, I have several portfolios ready to go but not one of my recent Decay work. So, undeterred, I opened my Decay folder, selected 10 images, warmed up the printer, and less than 2 hours later I had a neatly trimmed set of 10 Decay prints with a cover / title sheet ready to go.

Try doing that in a wet darkroom.

This was my first attempt at printing a presentation of my Decay work. When I viewed the final prints as a set I was quite impressed. It was very apparent to me, in a manner that I had not fully realized before viewing the work as all of a piece, that a statement was emerging. It seems that, as a result of just following the urging of my inner un-thought known, I have "stumbled upon" something well worth pursuing in earnest.

This is not a big surprise for me. It has happened before and I am aware of this happening to others as well - artists just scratching an itch who end up finding what they didn't know they were looking for.

I mention this because I am also aware of quite a number of photographers who are struggling to find something to sink their photo-teeth into. IMO, their problem is simply that they are thinking about it too much. Instead, what they should be doing is clearing their head and then they should just do it. Pick up a camera with no preconceived intentions and just look around.

To paraphrase Brooks Jensen - forget about what you have been told is a good picture and simply start picturing what you "see". What Jensen failed to mention in his dictum is that it is very important to "forget" everything you "know" about pictures and picturing because then, and only then, can you hear what you feel. What you feel is the best "knowledge" that you can harness in the cause of making good pictures.

A question for you: Has anyone else out there "stumbled upon" what you didn't know you were looking for?

PS: As coincidence would have it, literally across the street from the back entrance to our hotel, there was a recently opened gallery - a branch of a very established gallery in Quebec (city). It specializes in Contemporary Art, to include photography. After a quick look at my portfolio, they requested that I submit a formal portfolio - to include a few exhibition sized prints (3×3 ft), bio, artist statement, etc.) - for a full review because they found it "very interesting".

Update on Monday, April 14, 2008 at 01:42PM by gravitas et nugalis

Featured Comment: Stephen Connor wrote: "Well, you may have missed Hockey Night in Pittsburgh, but at least you got a shot of Molson's brewery - long a part of Hockey Night in Canada!"

my response: Actually, I didn't say that I missed Hockey Night in Pittsburgh. I said a "fine balance was struck" - that "balance" included walking out the hotel back entrance (again) and across the street
Les 3 Brasseurs • click to embiggento the Les 3 Brasseurs micro brew pub - a place where good beer and big screen tvs are in ample supply.

The way I see it, the balance killed many birds with one stone - we got out of the hotel, the wife (and I) likes micro brew beers, I (and the wife) like watching the Pens, and, together, we were honoring the Canadian tradition of Canadian drinking beer (albeit Les 3 Brasseurs Amber by the pint, not Molson Canadian by the bottle) and watching a Canadian hockey team (lose) at night in Canada.

An aside: talk about hitting the Trifecta - staying in an utterly fantastic small luxury hotel, the Auberge du Vieux-Port (click on "Album" to see the place), walk out the rear entrance and a few steps to the left, a great Art gallery, or a few steps to the right, a great micro brewery. It's a little bit of heaven.

And, oh yeah, lest I forget - doing it all with the wife.

urban ku # 182 ~ high flying spirits

Flying high • click to embiggenIn recent posts I have pictured the some of the colors and sounds of Spring.

However, I have not pictured one of the absolute joys of Spring - fresh air and the warmth of the sun. Because Winter seemed to drag on and on and on this year, most people 'round these here parts are expressing a particularly keen appreciation of that particular joy. It just flat out feels good. Before too long, it should also start to look good as well.

As an added bonus, although I have no way of picturing it, there are 2 other joys of Spring that we are enjoying - the Pens beat the Sens in their first Stanley Cup playoff game, and Notre Dame beat Michigan in the semis of the NCAA Frozen Four. And, who knows, maybe Tiger will prevail at The Masters. There's a big Spring weekend ahead.

The only thing unsettling my Spring Sports Revelry at the moment is the question of why video camera makers insist on putting really inferior still-picture capabilities in their camcorders. What the hell is the point of that?

ku # 511 ~ Spring # 4

Monument Falls on the Au Sable • click to embiggenI haven't quite figured it out yet, but I have a growing unease(?) / dissatisfaction(?) / question mark (?) / something or other (?) with my "pure" ku picturing.

It seems that pure natural-landscape pictures aren't doing it for me right now. Without some sign of humankind as an element, the pictures seem somehow "incomplete" or "empty". Despite this, I am still "seeing" ku possibilities whenever I go out to picture but I think it will take a bit of continued picturing to sort this out.

Part of my uncertainty most likely can be explained by a comment made by Christof Hammann on my recent Pictue window - less is more entry; "I think Robert Frank, and I concur with him, laments the influence that this deluge of pictures has on the perception of everybody. Every single visual experience, be it direct or representational gets steadily devalued and diluted in intensity. This is physiologic adaptation at work."

In short, too many cameras and too many pictures leading to a visual information overload - in my case, too damn many natural-landscape pictures. They're everywhere, they're everywhere and the overwhelming bulk of them are rather uninteresting. I think that my angst, whatever it is, is a general feeling of a "it's all been said" kind of thing rather than a particular feeling about my own ku.

Maybe. I think. Or, maybe not. I just don't know. Any thoughts?

Then again, re: "it's all been said", every once in awhile amongst all the visual babble, some pictures of note emerge and capture my attention - check out Nature/Disorder pictures from Mary Dennis - and lift my spirits. While it may be true that it has all been said, it seems that there are still those who manage to see things that are well worth seeing.

decay # 17 ~ phew

Decay and remains • click to embiggenThere is a minor brouhaha of sorts going on urban ku # 181 involving,of all things, gear - a topic rarely discussed here.

It stems from a comment by Adam Maas that the newest and best of digital cameras can, in fact, match the dynamic range and tonal quality of color negative film. I have no desire to debate the issue but I still stand by my opinion that color negative capture is superior to digital capture in ways that matter to my eye. The differences may be small but my eye can see them.

To my eye, a digital capture has a visual 'digital' signature that is like the visual difference between motion picture film and video. Not as pronounced but, to my eye, still apparent. And, Adam's contention that I see this only in my work because I use an 'inferior' sensor is rather nonsensical because I see it in all still digital capture pictures - independent of the specific equipment in use.

As for Adam's contention that "the smaller sensor sites" (of my camera) " deliver less dynamic range" than the sensor in his D300 is also not true - both sensors deliver exactly the same dynamic range of 8.8. They do it in different ways - my camera sensor has less highlight headroom than his, his camera sensor doesn't reach as far into the shadows as mine. It's a trade off. In some cases, I might have to make a separate exposure for extreme highlight detail, and, in some cases, he might have to make a separate exposure for deep shadow detail - or either of us has to use some other workaround to get the full range that we want.

But, ultimately, this is a stupid discussion because it is one of gear vs. aesthetics. My opinion that "Nothing in the digital world can match the smooth tonal transitions, subtle color rendition, and dynamic range of color negative film" is based on my aesthetic sense of how a picture made with cn film looks when compared to one made with digital capture (same scene, same light, comparable lens etc.).

Each medium - cn vs. dig - is a trompe-l'oeil. Each medium accomplishes its trompe-l'oeil in an entirely different manner. To the discerning eye, there is a difference in the final output (on closely matched papers) - the print. Hell, even Adam states that "I find the results from the D300 look a heck of a lot like the results I get from my Mamiya 645." - please note the omission of the phrase "exactly like".

Like I stated before, you make your choice and you stick with it - whether it's in the domain of film or that of digital. Either way, it's the emotional and intellectual impact of the pictures that matters most.

civilized ku # 81 ~ what Brian said!

Funhouse garage with barrels • click to embiggenI still receive auto-email notifications of discussion forum postings from a nature photography site even though I no longer participate on that site. Every once in awhile, there is a topic that sounds as though it might be interesting and I do check it out. Most times it is much more chafe than grain, and I do mean chafe, not chaff.

Recently, as it always does every couple of months or so, the topic of number of comments to picture postings came up. The usual rant is that some 'selfish' posters have a very low ratio of comments to picture posts. This is decried by most because "comments are how we learn", and, "comments are the heart of the site". And, woe to those who don't include tech data with their pictures! - that how we learn.

Now, IMO, in order to buy into that reasoning, you first have to get by the fact that the overwhelming number of comments are little more than of the "I like the color" variety. Most of the remainder are of the "I would have ..." variety. What this most reminds me of is the scene in Monty Python's Life of Brian where Brian is in a window and his followers are outside demanding a blessing -

Brain: No. No, please! Please! Please listen. I've got one or two things to say.

Followers: Tell us. Tell us both of them.

Brian: Look. You've got it all wrong. You don't need to follow me. You don't need to follow anybody! You've got to think for yourselves. You're all individuals!

Followers: Yes, we're all individuals!

Brian: You're all different!

Followers: Yes, we are all different!

Brian: You've all got to work it out for yourselves!

Followers: Yes! We've got to work it out for ourselves!

Brian: Exactly!

Followers: Tell us more!

Brian: No! That's the point! Don't let anyone tell you what to do!

Here's my point. I'm a 100% self-taught photographer. Aaron, the Cinemascape-ist, is a 100% self-taught photographer. Like many others, we learned the mechanics of the medium by doing. Sure, we read a few books and manuals but that is just part of the doing. Along the way, we made 'mistakes' but, of course, that's another part of how we learned.

We developed our aesthetic sensibilities by looking at the pictures made by others and also by doing, that is to say, making our own pictures - ones that reflected the way we literally and figuratively 'see' things - until we, not them, were reasonably satisfied with the results (the learning never ends). Sure, we like it when our pictures connect in a meaningful way with others but, that said, we aren't doing it for them.

None of this was done in a vacuum - we certainly looked, and still do, at photography by others for 'inspiration' and we have talked to others about many things photography & art-wise - but, that said, we are where we are today because, to paraphrase Brian, we are individuals, we are different, and we worked it out for ourselves.

That said, I'm curious - how many of you are self-taught? And, have any of you ever learned anything from comments about your pictures on an online forum?

urban ku # 181 ~ digital immaturity

On an evening walk • click to embiggenA few days ago, Mr. Big Shot Artist, Aaron (the Cinemascape-ist), made this comment; "Today I shot off 16 exposures of 120 film using the Bronica Medium format camera I borrowed from you. Not only do I have no clue if they were properly in focus and/or metered, I now have to wait to get to a lab for processing, then a day or two after that I can pick up the film and give you the neg's to scan, and perhaps by next Monday I will see the outcome."

In response, all I can say is, "Welcome to the world of photography as I knew it for most of my life."

This is one of the notions on my mind as I continue to contemplate a return to film-based picturing. However, the single most important notion on my mind is that of picture quality and, re: that notion, my mind is convinced, without doubt or question, that color negative film is superior to digital capture in every way but ease of use.

Nothing in the digital world can match the smooth tonal transitions, subtle color rendition, and dynamic range of color negative film. One obvious example of this is the fact that noise in a digital capture changes depending upon which part of the tone curve it falls - shadow areas tend to exhibit more noise than mid-tone and highlight areas. Whereas film has a totally consistent grain pattern (it's form of "noise") across the entire tone curve.

Add to that the fact that film is a mature medium / technology. Digital is not - it is in a nearly constant state of flux. Does it bother anyone of you that the digital capture pictures that you make today will be technically inferior to those you might make in as little as 6 months if you choose to picture with an upgraded sensor? A sensor with less noise, more resolution, less fringing, more mp, a new color engine - these are technical upgrades that will definitely impact how your pictures look.

While these issues of consistency are little concern for the amateur snap-shooter and, interestingly enough, the pro, they are for an Artist who is creating an extended body of work. For them, in the digital capture world, there is only one solution - make your best guess on sensor choice and stick with it. It might also be advisable to disconnect from the outside world or at least that part of it concerned with photo equipment.

In my consideration of a return to film, I am not limited by equipment availability. I have everything from 110 slrs, a Nikon system, a Bronica system, 2 4×5 Arca Swiss VCs, 1 4×5 Nagaoka wooden field camera, 1 8×10 Acra Swiss VC, an assortment of VC lens, a panoramic roll film camera, to a surprising number of toy cameras to work with. My issue is making a choice and sticking with it.

A question for you - how many of you, especially those of you under the age of 30, have pictured with film or, for that matter, have ever owned a film camera?

decay # 16 ~ the anatomy of disgust

Cantaloupe and grater • click to embiggenAmongst many things, I have always considered the act of picturing to be an act in the process of self-discovery.

Why one pictures, what one pictures and how one pictures it speaks volumes about the photographer, especially so (but not entirely limited to) Fine Art photographers - who, for purposes of this entry, are those who are making pictures that are meant to be more than just decorative.

The more one knows about and understands his/her personal whys, whats, and hows, the better he/she is apt to become at forming and expressing one's personal vision, photography-wise. This is not rocket science - the best Art flows from within and the more one is in touch with the within, the better one's Art is apt to become.

That said, much of my personal vision that flows from within is an unthought known. I tend to follow my 'inner voice' which 'tells' me what to picture. Of course, I do not mean that I hear a voice in my head that says, "take a picture of that cantaloupe". Rather, I am acutely aware of an unbidden impulse to picture something that I am actually seeing at the time.

Currently, in addition to my attraction to the natural world and man's relationship to it, I am drawn to decay. Some have speculated that the attraction is that of someone who is himself, 'decaying' (commonly called "aging"). I wouldn't deny that that may play a part in the attraction but, in fact, I have been attracted to decay since early childhood.

I can say that I have never tried to understand the attraction nor have I ever pictured it as a body of work until quite recently. As a result of that picturing and the desire to better understand it, I have been thinking about decay (the "what") in a effort to discover (the) "why" I am picturing it.

Until last seek, the best I have been able to come up with is that, on a visual level, I find a great deal of visual beauty in decay. When asked about that idea of visual beauty, the best I can muster is to say that I like the colors and the textures of decay after which I throw in the metaphor bit about "the cycles of life" and the part of that cycle that most would rather not think about / deal with. At that point, I start to feel that I'm sounding a lot like a rather lame first-year art student mouthing art-cliches.

However, in my pursuit of knowing more, I went back to a resource that I knew about but never pursued - the book, The Anatomy of Disgust" (by William Ian Miller, Harvard University Press), because, regarding my decay pictures, I have heard the phrase "that's disgusting" quite a number of times. No big surprise - many find decay to be disgusting. Some have higher or lower thresholds of when decay becomes disgusting, but, inevitably, the word "disgusting" seems to be a common reaction to my decay pictures.

A quick perusal of Miller's book reveals that he believes, and for which he builds a very convincing case, that "Disgust helps mark boundaries of culture and boundaries of the self." I found that premise very interesting. Miller states "Consider that the boundary of the self is manned at its most crucial and vulnerable points by disgust ..."

By that he means that disgust is a barrier that humans erect to help define what they consider to be invasions of not only the "self" but also of "cultures". Who are the "intruders"? Miller considers them to range from humble items like hair, sweat, pus and excrement - what Mr. Miller calls "thick, greasy life" - up to more formidable threats from exotic ethnic groups or social classes higher or lower than our own. In short, he builds a great case for how disgust is clearly bound up with class, bourgeois good taste and moral values.

Now I feel much better. My decay pictures are all about class, bourgeois good taste, moral values, and cultural and personal boundaries, not just the lame "cycles of life" thing.

I knew that.

Really. As an unthought known, I have known that for most of my adult life. I have continually approached and broached cultural and personal barriers (since from I don't know when), not no much with pictures, but with words. If I had half a penny for every time I heard "you're/that's gross / disgusting" as result of something I've said, I'd be a multi-millionaire - just this past weekend, at the breakfast table (with Maggie, her 2 girlfriends, and 1 of their boyfriends), when Maggie took my last sausage patty, put it in her mouth, took it back out and then offered to share it with me, I responded by cutting it in half, saying "Sure. I'll just pretend we're french kissing", and then I ate it.

The girls, to include the wife, responded with a chorus of "eewwww"s, "that's gross"s, and, I must add, lots of laughter. My breakfast-table gross-isms are of long standing and legendary proportions amongst Maggie and her posse. But, over the years, it's how we managed to broach and then talk about all manner of 'sensitive' topics. And, on hindsight, there were times when the gross-isms were instigated or accompanied by pictures - just not mine (that I can remember).

All of that said, my decay series is now my Decay and Disgust series.

Update on Tuesday, April 8, 2008 at 01:11PM by gravitas et nugalis

Waiting to become Art • click to embiggenFeatured Comment: Frank Armstrong wrote: "What I can't figure out about this decaying stuff -- are you leaving it there with the intent of creating art, or are you just too damned lazy to clean your kitchen?"

my response: much to the wife's chagrin, there's a bunch of decay hanging around waiting to become Art. Although, I am operating under the threat of imminent disposal if I don't find a non-kitchen staging area.

The kitchen, itself, is usually quite spic 'n span.