nfscd # 4 - jonesing
Wednesday, March 5, 2008 at 09:19AM 
Rebuilding the rust belt • click to embiggenYou have probably noticed that I have been posting a number of 'blasts from the past' (aka, 'nfscd'). There are a number of reasons for this.
First and foremost, as I have mentioned, I have had to address the issue of 'sorting' all kinds of stuff as part of my office move. In the process, I have (once again) found how amazingly difficult it is to get rid of some stuff that's been hanging around for eons. Stuff that seems of little significance to others but, nevertheless, seems to have some kind of hold over me. Most probably that hold involves memories but don't discount the fact that I hang on to some things just because I like the way they look.
Another reason is simply because, of late, there seems to have been little interest in discussing Art. Maybe there has been interest in 'reading' (my page loads and visits are inching upward) what I have written on the subject, but there has been little response in the way of comments.
So, I have decided to keep it 'light' for a while. I refuse to indulge in pixel peeping, gear talk, and techno babble, as many other blogs do, in order to generate more comments. Who amongst you wants read comments about Canon vs Nikon vs Pentax vs Olympus, noise numbers, pixel counts, etc., especially when those comments are based on little more than personal likes and dislikes. Boring.
In any event, today's picture is an illustration for a magazine article about 'rebuilding the rust belt'. It's a Polaroid image transfer, hand-colored with Marshall oils and pencils, on Arches (ARCHES - Le choix des artistes depuis 1492) watercolor paper.
Polaroid image transfers (and emulsion transfers) are, of course, about to become a 'lost art'. I'm really having a hard time accepting the fact that an entire genre with so many creative possibilities is about to disappear, especially one that was so handmade intensive. I fully embrace digital and all of its creative possibilities but I am really jonesing to get involved in a photo process that requires touching something other than on/off buttons and a keyboard.
And, maybe that's related to memory as well. I would think that, if you've never done any handmade photography - wet darkroom, alternate processes, peeling apart polaroids, etc. - and therefore have no memory of it, you certainly can't miss it. You would also probably have no desire to do so.
What a pity.
Reader Comments (5)
I have enjoyed viewing your "past", it is always a learning experience no matter what you post, thanks.
If you REALLY want to be hands on (and arms, and legs, and torso), might I suggest building a camera on the flatbed of a pickup and getting inside it during the picture taking...
http://www.vonlintel.com/PRESS/Press_60.html
I never did the handmade photography, but definitely understand the appeal. I'm wondering if there aren't printing substrates that could allow the best of both worlds: the ease and reproducibility of digital with the artist's touch. If you could print on a paper-backed emulsion and then float it off and manipulate it, every version would be unique. No doubt other print manipulations are possible. Who's experimenting along these lines?
what makes you think we find you dusty objects and pictures of little significance?
Mark,
I used to spend so much time in the darkroom and loved every moment of it. I love what the computer can do too, but there is something about the tactile part of producing a print that is "handcrafted" (to use an overused word). I never got the opportunity to do Polaroid transfers, but I've always enjoyed the what I've seen of them.
One year for Christmas gifts, I used some of my photos to create woodcuts. The process was a bit labor intensive as I had to first simplify the composition into areas that could be easily cut into wood and printed. I then chose how many colors I wanted each print to have (and made a woodcut for each color) and a way to register them when I printed the final document. It took about a month for 3 different designs, but it was very satisfying in a way that the computer just isn't.