civilized ku # 2193-94 ~ one of these things is not like the other thing
Wednesday, May 9, 2012 at 01:54PM 
Spring buds ~ Au Sable Forks, NY - in the Adirondack Park • click to embiggen;)
Spring buds with vehicle ~ Au Sable Forks, NY - in the Adirondack Park • click to embiggenThis AM, when looking out of my bathroom window, my eye and sensibilities were pricked by what became the Spring buds picture. After getting a camera, the one with the 45mm lens (90mm 35mm equiv.), I made the picture of what first caught my eye - the spring buds on the trees. I used the 45mm lens because it allowed me to capture just the spring buds, which were the first-glance object of my attention.
Upon viewing the picture on the camera's LCD, and after a quick bit of picture making introspection, I grabbed the camera with the 20mm lens (40mm, 35mm equiv.) and made the Spring buds with vehicle picture. A picture which I realized, almost immediately, was much more to my liking. After processing the 2 pictures, I was even more certain that I had made the right decision.
How so? Well, let me refer back to the words of Stephen Shore from his essay Form and Pressure, as found in APERTURE ~ Winter 2011):
... I was aware that I was imposing an organization that came from me and from what I had learned: it was not really an outgrowth of the scene in front of me ... I asked myself if I could organize the information I wanted to include without relying on an overriding structural principle ... Could I structure the picture in such a way that communicated my experience of standing there, taking in the scene in front of me? ...
IMO, the Spring buds picture was made, in Shore's words, as a result of my "imposing an organization that came from me and what I had learned". It was, in my words, a bit of a "camera club" picture - one that, in many guises and derivations, I have seen before. And, I simply didn't feel that the picture "communicated my experience of standing there, taking in the scene in front of me".
So, I grabbed the camera with the 20mm lens, waited for a vehicle to enter the scene, and made the second picture.
That picture is much more to my way of seeing. A manner of seeing that is neatly summed up by Robert Adams, in his essay, Making Art New (to be found in his book, BEAUTY IN PHOTOGRAPHY):
Currently a great deal of energy is being invested in attempts to push photography into unusual areas ... (but) the only thing that is new in art is the example: the message is, broadly speaking, the same - coherence, form, meaning. The example changes profitably, I think, because the span of our attention is fleeting, our imaginations are weak, and our historical perspectives are short; we respond best to affirmations that are achieved within the details of life today, specifics that we can, to our surprise and delight and satisfaction, recognize as our own.
The first picture could have been made almost anywhere similar foliage can be found and at almost any time since the advent of color picture making. Whereas the second picture is dated by the vehicle and it also has a sense of place as evidenced by the street and houses - all things that can be "recognized as our own". And, much more important to me and my eye and sensibilities, it more truthfully represents "my experience of standing there, taking in the scene in front of me".
Some "serious amateurs" who live and die by the adage, "Simply", might state that I would do better with the first picture because it directs the viewers attention to the Spring buds whereas in the second picture the Spring buds are "lost" in all of the extraneous details. To which I would respond (in my own words) with the notion of Shore's statement:
This was a new conception of the landscape picture, one in which the details themselves - their density and abundance, rather than the entirety - were intended to be the focal point or subject. Each image is so sharp and detailed that it seems to have infinite centres of attention, or none at all. "If I saw something interesting, I didn't have to make a picture about it. I could let it be somewhere in the picture, and have something else happening as well. So this changes the function of a picture - it's not like pointing at something and saying 'Take a look at this'. It's saying, 'Take a look at this object I'm making.' It's asking you to savour something not in the world, but to savour the image itself."
That notion mirrors my idea of the print as a thing - something to be savoured in of itself, independent of (but, nevertheless, simultaneously with) the referent(s) pictured there on. And, IMO, there is nothing which compares to a print when it comes to communicating coherence, form, and ultimately, meaning.
FYI I have disabled the CAPTCHA thing - the enter these letters thing in order to submit a comment. It seems some were having trouble with it. So now you just comment and publish.
Reader Comments (6)
I post so infrequently, but am compelled by the thoughtful and thorough argument you have made. It unlocked something for me. Thanks.
Mark, is it correct to assume that part of the attraction of a normal or wider angle lens is this effect of setting the observer into the scene itself - in Shore's words "standing there". This is something I have difficulties to realize with longer focal lengths, and 90mm-e is just on the border, allowing this immersing into the scene only in certain situations.
It took me a while to realize that this mechanism might be the reason why my inclination changed from longer focal lenghts more to the normal and wide side: Such compressed perspectives have their merits for me (still) in some situations, but it's like with intensive spices: I don't need to have them with every meal.
Good post.
I suspect the average punter is [somehow] conditioned into preferring a more generic image, something that hints more strongly of the "iconic". The more specific an image is, the more it looks like a snapshot -- to the untrained eye.
The average punter looking at the second image would think "that's just a tree in some-ones street ... I could take a shot like that too". It takes a little more thinking and reflecting to identify the "message" in the image.
Looking at you post this morning was a bit of jolt considering my post last night. Your comments and observations make me want take down the picture, after all is is not a favorite anyway.
I have to say I am often drawn to details in trees and clouds and water, so the resulting image is more about texture, light and color rather than providing the viewer the experience of "the scene in front of me."
First off, I think that your tendency to condescend those that differs from your point of view makes it harder to take your basic message seriously. I see it in Sven W's post too, "if you agree with me, you have a trained eye" .. Right. You two need to really get off your high horses.
Secondly, there is nothing inherently _good_ about an image rooted somewhere/sometime imo. If you want your image to be rooted somewhere/sometime, the latter image is obviously the better image. If you want to play with shapes, structures, patterns and find that these communicate the feeling or the emotion you want it to communicate. Go for it.
@Ulrik: "if you agree with me, you have a trained eye"
... actually, that's your quote, not mine ;)
What I didn't make clear in my comment was the fact that my style / approach to photography is a more documentary, more realist approach. I do try for good exposures and framing, but some rough edges creep in. And to be honest, I don't mind them at all.
It's taken a number of years for my friends (the innocent subjects in many of my photos) to appreciate where I'm coming from in my less than perfect / idealised images. [That might also be because I have improved as a photographer ;]
The point I'm making is this: for those of us making documentary style images, there's a certain amount of peer pressure to make "simple" images of flowers, sunsets and cheesy portraits rather than the kind of images we prefer to make.
To me, the subtext in a lot of Mark's posts is to be true to yourself.