diptych (selection) # 14-16 ~ much to do about nothing (?)

exit ~ Blue Mountain Lake, NY - in the Adirondack PARK • click to embiggen
sweepings ~ Chaffey's Lock, Ontario, CA • click to embiggen
Autumn leaves ~ Au Sable Forks, NY - in the Adirondack PARK • click to embiggenFeatured Comment: On yesterday's entry John Linn wrote: ".... So when you "see" the referent, which framing captures your vision? In other words, what is the "equivalent" focal length of your vision? Or do you have "zoom" vision? .... And why shoot two focal length framings from the same position when cropping the wider frame would result in the same result?

my response: Re: the "equivalent" focal length of my vision - I have never thought of my vision in terms of a focal length but, on short notice, I would have to write that it is in the "normal" focal length (50mm on 35mm/FF camera) range.

However, I would also write that my vision is very center weighted - hence my picture vignette - inasmuch as I seem to be drawn visually to that which is in the center of my field of view. Of course, what captures my attention within that center-weighted field of view is recognition of a rhythm of surfaces, lines, and values no matter what the specific referent might be.

Re: why not crop? - First and foremost, I do not crop. Period. End of sentence. That's a all she wrote. For my picture making, it is, and always has been, getting it right in-camera.

This operational predilection / propensity stems from my commercial picture making days. Every picture making assignment I had came with very specific final dimensions which were dictated by page / ad / end-usage proportions. The challenge was to make a picture with a pleasing visual arrangement which "fit" within those fixed proportions. Over time, I became very good at doing so in a wide variety of picture making assignments - from carefully and painstakingly arranging objects in a studio still life to real-life annual report / reportage / editorial.

In a very real sense, it was this experience - a "training" of sorts - which instilled in me the idea of getting it right in-camera and the corresponding feeling / belief that cropping was for picture making wimps - hence the black border on my pictures which, traditionally, came from printing with a filed out negative carrier which exposed the clear film edges of film .... proof positive that you were a real man, picture making wise, who got it right in-camera.

All of which brings me back to the first "Re:". When my particular "focal length" vision recognizes a rhythm of surfaces, lines, and values, the challenge becomes getting it right in-camera. That is to write, conveying, on the 2D surface of a print, the sense of the rhythm of surface, line, and values which pricked my eye and sensibility. And, of course, that is wherein a picture maker employs his/her act of selection, aka: deciding what to include and what to exclude by the imposition of the frame.

Re: why shoot two focal length framings? - getting it right in-camera does not mean that there is one and only one way to get it right. There are many ways to skin a picture making cat. In fact, as many ways as there are picture makers. And, if the picture maker is true to the characteristic of the medium and its apparatus, the one which differentiates it from the other visual arts - its inherent and intrinsic characteristic as a cohort to the real - each and every variation on a specific referent will be as true as any other.

Whether or not that trueness is conveyed to the viewer with a sense of rhythm of surface, lines, and values is an entirely separate issue. And, in many cases, the answer to that issue is up to each and every viewer to decide.

Hence, two separate and distinctly different focal length pictures, each with its own sense of rhythm. Or not. That's up to the viewer to decide and, while doing so, paying attention the idea of the act of selection as the central picturing making act.

Disclaimer This entire exercise is in the tradition of art about art, or in this specific case, photography about photography. Some, in fact many, will consider this to be much to do about nothing (flapdoodle and green paint) or an exercise in autoeroticism, picture making wise. In part, I totally agree with that assessment.

On the other hand, as is evidenced by John Linn's willingness to express his curiosity and wonder what the hell is going on, this exercise does raise some interesting questions for discussion. But, then again, it's still all about the pictures.