urban ku # 195 ~ get over it
It is always very interesting to read (at least it is for me) the ripple-effect discussions and comments on other blogs that occasionally flow from an entry here on The Landscapist. These are easy to find because, in the blog-o-sphere it is de rigueur to provide a link to the entry about which someone is commenting on their blog. And, these links show up on the "Came From" section of just about any web stat software/service - in my case statcounter.com.
Recently, there has been a decent amount of chatter on a few blogs regarding my entry about dense photography and the idea that this descriptor explains much about and helps to define that special genre of picturing now known as Hobson-esque - a nomenclature which seems to be giving Paul Maxim a reason to not go on living (even though he was recently caught red-handed posting a Hobson-esque picture of his very own making).
Now, to be certain, I am not picking on Paul in anyway. Amongst fairly regular commentators on The Landscapist, Paul is the top candidate (and my pick) for the title of Resident Contrarian because, while being a contatrian, his comments are always informed and articulate. I really really value that kind of feedback.
That is why I read with interest his comments re: dense photography on Andreas Manessinger's blog entry, What it is in which he delved into the notion of dense picture making:
... Seriously, though, this whole concept of dense photography or seeing things "plainly" is, for me, just smoke and mirrors with a camera. It's roughly analagous to adding more words to a paragraph or more plots or storylines to a novel or more notes to a musical score, all the while keeping things as commonplace or as mundane as possible.
Your image, for example, certainly has a "sense of place" for you, and probably many others. But for most of us, it doesn't. And there simply isn't anything there that's out of the ordinary to command my attention. I could drive through the city of Rochester and take countless similar images at any number of places. But why would I? How would that be different from what I can see any day, anytime? It's the same question I've been asking Mark for some time: What's wrong with photographing the unusual or the unique? Conversely, what story am I telling by photographing something that can be "plainly" seen by anyone, anywhere? It's true that we tend not to see the mundane in our lives. We pass right by them. The point is, we have seen them - we choose not to see them anymore for a reason. They're just not interesting anymore. That doesn't mean we've lost our ability "to see" things. It just means that the ordinary is just that - ordinary ...
OK, there's actually a fair amount of stuff for me to comment on in his comment but I'll try to stay on the point of "the same question I've been asking Mark for some time: What's wrong with photographing the unusual or the unique?"
IMO, there is nothing at all inherently wrong with picturing the unusual or the unique. Amongst some of the most interesting/intriguing pictures that I have viewed over the last year or so more than a few could most definitely be considered to be pictures of "the unusual or the unique" - imagine seeing Abdullahi Mohammed with Mainasara, Ogere-Remo, Nigeria 2007 (7th picture from top) printed at 6-7 ft. tall.
Truth be told, I am always interested in seeing something new and different but ... I simply do not equate "new and different" with "unusual and unique". That notion stems from the fact that I pretty much totally disagree with Paul's premise that people choose not to see the "mundane in our lives" because they have seen it before and, therefore, it is "just not interesting anymore".
First and foremost, I disagree simply because unlike Paul, I don't believe that people have seen it before - at least not in a cognitive sense. They may "see" it, in as much as it crosses their field of vision but that is a fer piece down the road from actually noticing it and, in the words of Emmet Gowin:
(Photography is a tool for) dealing with things everybody knows about but isn't attending to.
IMO, and this the point at which I disagree with the notion of photography as entertainment without cultural consequence/significance, people don't notice "the mundane" because, in a media saturated culture fetishistically devoted to attention grabbing "unusual and unique" imagery - must often for some sort of commercial gain in form of higher ratings, inflaming consumer desire, good old-fashion titillation, etc. - people "see" with a near-pavlovian conditioning to ignore the "mundane" and respond only to the "unique and unusual".
IMO, we are in the socio-economic and environmental fix we are in precisely because there is a lot of "mundane" stuff that people are not "seeing" (in a cognitive sense) and therefore not attending to.
Consequently, my picturing of the "ordinary/mundane" is much more informed by Thoreau's reflections upon the virtues and, yes, the pleasures of simple living than it is upon our prevailing cultural paradigm of wretched excess - a paradigm that is in no small part fueled and encouraged by imagery of "unique and unusual" objects of desire.
So, it is entirely accurate to state that a significant part of the "story I am telling by photographing something that can be "plainly" seen by anyone" is a story of "the simple life".
Reader Comments (3)
Maybe it is me, the uneducated photographer, but I don't see it as "new and different" or "unusual and unique", I see it as real life. IMO it is not complicated or dense, it is real.
Whether you make an image of decay, or a moonlit image as you take your dogs out, or if I make an image of an old barn, two snowy owls in flight or an old truck on the edge of a field, it is real life.
When I took the pictures in Vietnam, yes "took the picture" I wasn't making images then, I shot what I saw and it is the same today.
"A reason to not go on living"? Hardly. Waiting to see what you do and say next is one of my reasons for pushing ahead!
As you may have noticed, my "Hobsonesque" image was intended to mimic your work (I said as much in a response to a comment from Markus Spring). Even so, it's an image that's visually balanced, I think, and despite all the branches, relatively simple compositionally.
By the way, a number of your recent images are very much non-Hobsonesque. The image of Grand Central Station (#194?) is so well balanced that it borders on symmetrical. It's an image that I would have taken or would take if I ever visited the place. Not to mention being "iconic".
OK - on to more "serious" stuff. When I said that there was a reason that we don't see the mundane anymore, I really wasn't referring to the general masses. You are, of course, right about why the general population doesn't see what's right in front of them. They simply have no vested interest in doing so. As a species, conscious observation is not one of our strong points. If I'm ever being tried for a crime that I didn't commit, the last thing I'd want to have to deal with is "eye witnesses".
No, I was referring to those of us who are supposed to be able to see things for what they are, to make that "cognitive" connection that you speak of. Anyone who calls him or herself a "photographer" is claiming that ability, even if they've never really thought about it.
The point, though, has more to do with the potential audience than it does with the person who took the picture. If that audience cannot see things that "everybody knows about but isn't attending to" when it's squarely in front of them, then what makes you think that they'll see it in a photograph? Who, exactly, are you trying to connect with? If it's someone who sees things in much the same way that you do, then I believe that they've probably already seen it. You're preaching to the choir. If you're trying to reach those who haven't seen it but should, then I'd suggest that you're wasting your time. You could present them with a book of your best images and they'd give the whole thing about 5 minutes (if you're lucky) before they walked away.
If you want to have any chance of reaching those who need to be reached, you sure as hell had better give them something that catches their eye. That's step 1. We'll worry about step 2 - conveying "meaning" - after we've achieved step 1.
By the way, thanks for the title of "Resident Contrarian". Coming from you, that's high praise indeed.
I thought that this photo from Aline Smithson might be relevant here: http://alinesmithson.com/site.html