man & nature # 25 ~ time in a bottle

Rain drops on spider web on clogs • click to embiggenA notion that we have rarely discussed regarding the medium is that of time - stopping / freezing time, the past, the present, moment in time, etc.

In the recent Focus magazine interview with Joel Meyerowitz, he stated:

It's what photography can actually do best, to describe a moment in "the present", whatever that present is. It's the "eternal present". We sit here in 2008 and we pick up something from 1860 and we look at it from 2008 and it's in our lives. It fills us with wonder ... suddenly you're there and you forget where you are.

That is certainly one way of looking at it (time) but I also recently came across this quote from William Faulkner:

Time is dead as long as it being clocked by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.

I do not know the context of that little gem but I do very much like it as an idea when applied to the medium of photography. We (photograhers) do interrupt the spinning of the wheels of time. We stop the clock. We freeze a moment and make it come to life, grant it significance, and give it meaning in a manner that it never could quite have in the flow of time.

Do you ever think about "time" and how it applies to your photography?

ku # 531 ~ it's hip to be square

Summit cloud ~ Whiteface
click to embiggenOn yesterday's entry Andreas Manessinger had a few questions:

All your images are square .... but you most probably shoot with a 3:2 format camera ... How do you compose for square images? and, And now that I think of it: why square at all?

Why square? Well, first and foremost, I just have a feel and like for the square picture - it just feels right for the way I see the world. Not that I have any issues at all with rectangular pictures and lord knows I have made a zillion of them in commercial work. And, if you checked out my 8×10 view camera stuff, you know that I can handle myself well in the rectangular world.

But, I have always had a preference in my personal work for square pictures with a minor in the panoramic format and the late and much lamented SX-70 Polaroid square. I think that one of the reasons I really like the square is because the center of the frame is equidistant from the the 4 corners of the frame and much of what I want to direct the viewers attention to is at least somewhat centered in the frame. or, in some the cases, the visual action/energy "rotates" around the center of the frame.

I also know that the eye is more constrained within a square frame - there is less room to room. Since most of my pictures are also rather chock full of visual activity, to my eye and sensibility, the square (and the black edge) helps keep the viewer more focused on what I want them to see. The square creates a "tighter" composition, if you want to think in terms of "composition".

As to the question of how I compose within the entire visual field of the viewfinder, it's just a matter of experience. I know, within a very minor tolerance, how much of the viewfinder field I will be eliminating to get my square. This simply a matter of having it done it for so long. And, even though I just added a 3×2 format camera (Pentax K20D) to my longtime 4×3 format camera (Olympus 4/3rds), there has been no problem at all adapting to that viewfinder. 99.9% of the time, I crop a virtually equal amount of image off of both ends of the frame (give or take a hair width or two) in order to get my square picture.

That said, I do wish some sensor maker would grace use with a square sensor. One of the problems I have with the digital camera world is that, if the manufacturers don't see a BIG market in it, it won't exist. Sadly, unless you picture with film, there is no square viewfinder anymore.

ku # 530 ~ on with the show

Reflection • click to embiggenJust in case you thought I was going to give you a never-ending stream of Jersey Shore pictures, here's a ku from last evening.

I have been waiting for about 3 years to picture this little wet spot and last evening it seemed to be just about right for the pickin'. In fact, there are 3 more "pure" ku to come from last evening's picturing. Just let me state that it's really good to be back from The Shore.

However, relative to The Shore and my recent Shore Light picturing endeavor, Aaron, the Cinemascapist, stated and inquired - I did notice however, that you did not vignette your jersey shore images a year ago. why not? or why now?

Good question and, in fact, one that I have been pondering while I was picturing, while I was processing them, and even now as I am viewing them as finished vignetted images.

There are 5 Shore pictures (from last year) framed and hanging in the hall outside of my studio / office. These are undoubtedly the ones that Aaron has noticed as being not only vignette free but also black edge free as well. For those of you who haven't been in my hallway, you can see some of last year's results HERE.

Now, just let me say this about that - last year I was more influenced by the notion of making a body of work that was different from my (primarily) Adirondack ku. I knew my modus operandi, aka - plain seeing, would be the same as it ever was, so I played with the idea of processing / printing them in a different manner in order to distinguish the 2 bodies of work from one another. And, IMO, there is no question that they do, on the surface of things, appear to be different from one another.

IMO, the vignette / black boarder-less presentation creates a very different visual and emotional impression of essentially the same referent from that of this year's Shore Light presentation and my ADK ku. The pictures appear more open and "airy". They appear to be "lighter" in visual "weight". They appear almost "cheerful". And there is a certain visual element of "cool and detached".

None of those visual qualities are what I want to imply in the connoted part of my impressions of the Jersey Shore. So, it's on with the vignette / black edge show - something that really seems to fit, to my eye and sensibility, with how I see, both literally and figuratively. As I mentioned yesterday, I'm either in a rut or happy as a clam in my "groove".

I would definitely be interested in hearing opinions - last year's stuff vs this year's stuff - from as many of you as possible. And, lest I forget, I've added many more pictures to the Shore Light site. There are now 2 pages but the new pictures are placed alphabetically by title so they are sprinkled throughout on both pages.

I am a bit disappointed by the lack of feedback that I asked for yesterday so I just want to mention that the "registration" thing that pops up is NOT required. You DO NOT need to have an "account" to view the site. You only need to register if you want to use the Lightbox feature.

man & nature # 24 ~ same as it ever was

Toll bridge • click to embiggenMy normal Jersey Shore thing is to simply avoid the oppressive heat and humidity. This entails staying inside in air conditioning and playing golf from a golf cart - 2 things that are not my favorite activities. Playing golf from a golf cart while sweating like you're in a sauna, ranks as one of my absolute least favorite things to do.

Going to the beach is not much fun for me since there are approximately 2 billion people on Stone Harbor beach during the day. Before 7AM or after 7PM the beach is virtually deserted, relatively cool, and, consequently, a refreshing place to be. But, other than the beach, unless you're into shopping for junk or designer stuff at the barrier island's 3×2 block "hub"/main street, there just ain't much to do in Stone Harbor.

I even stopped going on the annual sweat-fest for a few years. Cousins • clickBut then Hugo came along and he developed an abiding relationship with his cousins (inlaw) from the wife's family, including his girlfriend, Sophie - hey, they could get married since they're not blood kin. And, once a year the entire clan is at The Shore, so I'm back, albeit in an abbreviated form of 3-4 days.

Last year I decided to start picturing The Shore and, after a fledgling effort, I came away with some good stuff. That experience and this year's Meyerowitz "coincidence" provided the impetus to approach it a bit more seriously this year.

As coincidence would have it, this year The Jersey Shore put on quite a good light show. It gave me fog and mist, bright searing sunlight, some "classic" late day / evening shore light - a kind of soft hazy light, and one blazing sunset. It could not have been better, photography-wise. I felt lucky.

Relative to last year's fledgling effort and my intention to add those results to this year's results, Don asked: ... even though the images are a year apart, do you see a difference as far as your "making" of the images?

The short answer is, "No." Not at all. My modus operandi for picturing hasn't really changed in any significant way since ... well ... since I started getting serious about making picture that were more than entertainment, which would have been around 1980. Other than the obvious difference of format, square vs. rectangle, and my now standard vignette, my approach to and the results of my picturing hasn't changed much at all.

Check out some of my 8×10 view camera work from that time. IMO, the trademark MH/Landscapist plain seeing is as evident then as it is now. And, notice the black film edges, the ones that I mimic in my current work.

I think it would be fair to say that either I have found my groove or that I am stuck in a rut, depending upon your point of view.

In any event, getting back to yesterday's dilema, I have been exploring photo gallery site options and came across one that gives a free, full-features, 10 day trail. So, I have given it a test spin and posted 32 of my Shore Light pictures.

You can see it HERE. Please check it out and let me know what you think about it. More about the site itself than the pictures - things like the look, feel, and functionality of the site. Although, one of the functions of the site is the ability to leave comments on the individual pictures, so feel free to have a say.

FYI, once you click on "Shore Light" in the "Gallery" drop down menu, a bunch of pictures appear. Click on the first one, or any one for that matter, and it launches into a viewing window with all the thumbnails on the right side.

man & nature # 23 ~ a bit of a dilema

Jersey Shore arbor • click to embiggenMy picturing at the Jersey Shore was an unmitigated success. While the ultimate test of that lies with those who view the pictures, I am very pleased with the results.

As I mention in the previous entry, I have nearly 70 "keepers" in the body of work which is tentatively titled Shore Light. I say "tentatively" because that moniker may be a little bit too close for comfort, re: Joel Meyerowitz's Cape Light. Although, it must be said that my pictures and his bear more than a passing kinship.

I am in no way trying to imitate Meyerowitz's Cape Light pictures. That said, it nearly impossible to visit and picture an ocean-side location and not be aware of the quality of the light and all of its variations. Meyerowitz used the phrase inside the light as part of the title of his Tuscany book and it is a very appropriate discription of the feeling one gets in places where the light has an unusual or very distinct quality. So, it should come as no surprise that the varying and distinct quality of shore light is, as with the Cape Light pictures, an integral part of my Shore Light pictures.

Like Meyerowitz, and as I have been practicing my entire picture making life, my intention with these pictures is, on the surface of things, an attempt to picture the place as it is. But in that sense, our pictures are different in as much as Meyerowitz captured the Cape at a time when it was still "authentic", relatively free of the ravages of modern wretched-excess development. I, on the other hand, have captured the Jersey Shore in the full-fledged throes of conspicuous consumption development - there is precious little "authenticity" left in Stone Harbor.

Nevertheless, our pictures are similar in that, as Meyerowitz has stated:

... it's always been to share the experience, as if I stood someplace and was stopped with a sense of wonder ... that's pure inspiration ... you're taking it all in ... It's like saying here, stand where I stood. I'm not going to tell you what to see. Just stand here and look at this.

Beyond the surface of things is something else. Again, as Meyerowitz has stated:

And if there's some passage to the viewer of the wonder of the unexpected moment, then that is making art or photography. Your sense of reality has been changed in that split second, which has now been crystallized into the moment of consciousness, and then that is captured somehow, and now you have a chance to look at it and trip out.

In any event, here's my dilema - As mentioned, I have more than 70 images (processed to date) from my recent picturing and another 20+ from last year's trip, which I believe, when viewed as a body of work, really does captures a very real sense of the place that is Stone Harbor, NJ. But, if I dole them out one a day for 90+ days, I will probably lose the room. It's vitally important that they be viewed as a body of work, not a series of one hit wonders.

So, the only solution I can think of is an online gallery / site devoted to just the Shore Light series. A "pure' gallery of just pictures with an opening Artist Statement. That and a book. Give me a little time and I'll have both for your viewing pleasure.

man & nature # 22 ~ like playing golf in Scotland without the airfare

Twisted Dunes # 16 • click to embiggenI'm back and have spent the better part of the day in the "darkroom" wherein I have "developed" 60 images from over 250 that I created on the Jersey Shore.

That number does not include the above images of Twisted Dunes GC - # 16, Egg Harbor Township, NJ. The 16th hole at Twisted Dunes is a 165 yard par 3. It is rated as the 18th handicap hole on the course meaning that, in golf parlance, it is the easiest hole on the course.

If one of the gods of golf sat me down and told me I could only play 1 golf course for the rest of my life, Twisted Dunes just might be the one. Typical green and fairway • click There is not a tree on the course which is built in an old quarry. Instead of tree-lined fairways there are only dune-lined ones that are covered with deep wild grasses. The picture on the left gives you an good idea of the size of the dunes.

I love this course (I've played it 3 times) because it has such a lay-of-the-land feel to it - very Scottish / Irish seaside links style. Typical tee shot • clickThe illusion here (unlike the real deal in Scotland and Ireland) is that the tees, fairways, and greens are placed where nature let them be placed. There is a sense that god, not a golf architect, decided where the those things would be.

The course is very near the ocean so wind does come into play, some days more than others, and like its Scottish / Irish brethren, many a tee shot is semi-blind - you see the fairway but not where a well-struck drive will end up. A number of fairways rise over a hillock and out of sight, most often with a slight dogleg beyond your line of sight. A good yardage book is a necessity.

In any event, the next entry will begin my Shore Light series. There will be a book.

FYI, I carded an 81.

Cinemascapist ~ getting dressed

Getting dressed click to embiggenEven though I am more than 400+ miles from home, I have been hard at work trying to post and entry. First on a PC laptop. No luck there, the "improved" SS software doesn't work on Explorer. Then on a Mac laptop. No luck there until I downloaded and installed Firefox. I wish a f**king pox on all "updates".

In any event, I'm at the Jersey Shore - one of my least favorite places on the planet but one of the wife's most treasured. Ah, the sacrifices one makes to insure domestic tranquility.

TO keep my mind off the oppressive heat/humidity (it's fair and mild back home in the Adirondacks), I am picturing like crazy. I guess it is just an extension of the Meyerowitz / plain seeing "coincidences" that I find myself at a summer place right next to the ocean - my very own "Cape Light".

Even though I hate this place and everything it stands for - conspicuous consumption and waste as new cookie-cutter, pretentious, and soul-less shore McMansions replace the quaint and somewhat indigenous shore cottages - I am still attempting to picture this place and its unique shore light without letting my contempt for it influence my picturing.

I am just trying to get into the spirit of the place and let the viewer decide where the chips may fall. As Meyerowitz stated in the Focus interview:

It's not about a picture of the place. It's about the spirit. If you can allow yourself to come to the photographic act from a spiritual doorway then you're likely to have experiences in the places you find yourself that seek to a deeper core of your being.

Now, I have to admit that I get a little hinky when people start throwing around words like "spirit" and "spiritual" in discussions about photography. Not because I don't think and believe that picturing can not be a spiritual thing - both the act of making and the act of viewing. It's just that those words start to sound a bit hippie-dippy, pie-in-the-sky-ish, cult-ish, and, rather "serious" and perhaps more than a little pretentious.

IMO, using those words tends to set up even more barriers to those wanting to make good pictures. In a sense, making good pictures has to do with, as mentioned before, just being curious and receptive. Not trying too hard to be "creative" or "clever" or "serious". Stop looking for "pictures". Where ever you happen to be, just look around and see what there is to see.

That is all I am trying to do for the next few days. No agenda. Just - stop. look. listen. However, you and I will have to wait for my return home to judge whether I have accomplished my intent. I left my darkroom at home.

BTW, thanks to the Cinemascapist for the use of his work.

man & nature # 21 ~ scratch my back with a hacksaw

The Grand Prix Motor Lodge • click to embiggenOver the entire course of my life, especially so in my adult years, I have experienced quite a number of "coincidences". You know, you think something then something like it happens. You think about someone you haven't seen in a while and, shortly thereafter, the phone rings.

These type of things happen to me in bunches - 2, 3, sometimes 4 "coincidences" in a row over a couple of days. Then, nothing for weeks or even months. And, no, this is not anything that I can control. I don't think /dream winning lotto numbers, trifectas, etc. I can't wish something to happen and make it so. They are just "coincidences", although I am convinced that that word is no longer the right word to describe the experiences.

That said, Yesterday's "coincidence" left me not knowing whether to cry or wind my watch. I was ready to buy Sam a drink and get his dog one too. I felt like I had been cow-kicked.

Why is that, you might ask? Well, consider this - after making yesterday's entry, more on "plain seeing", I left the house to run some errands in Plattsburg - have a 24×36 print made, buy some Summer reading, and then play a round of golf. On the drive to Plattsburg, I was thinking about today's entry which was going to be in response to Stephen Connor's comment on the topic of plain seeing:

Um, sadly, "plain seeing" may draw attention to the referent, not to the artist, but it makes crap art. Turn with me now to plate 15, from "Cape Light" by Joel Meyerowitz. It's a swimming pool, some chairs, a beach umbrella, and the horizon. Pretty darn plain, if you ask me. Anybody REALLY think the average photographer would take a photograph as beautiful as this of this scene? Anybody think the hand of the artist isn't visible? Anybody really think "the referent" is all that matters here?

I had a link ready to go to some of Meyerowitz's work so that you could see Plate # 15 and other pictures that I felt would support my position re: Meyerowitz's photography. I also had the above picture selected to accompany the entry. It was going to be something like this:

I think the photography of Joel Meyerowitz is an excellent example of plain seeing. His pictures are very often about stuff that appears to be nothing important. To the untrained eye, they also seem to be rather randomly composed. To my eye and sensibilities, they appear to have been made rather effortlessly and they make me feel like I am seeing what he saw in a very plain way.

Now, I know that Meyerowitz uses an 8×10 view camera so also know that his pictures are not made "effortlessly" and, in all probably, that they are not randomly composed. I also know that these pictures evidence more than a little relationship to his NYC street photography approach to picturing.

So, Stephen, in this case, I am acutely aware of the hand of the artist, and no, I don't think that the average photographer "would take a photograph as beautiful as this of this scene". Nor do I think that the referent is the only thing that matters in his pictures. However, none of that says that the pictures are not plain seeing the the sense that I tried to make plain in yesterday's entry.

But, let the coincidences begin:

1) When I made the Grand Prix picture, a day or so before Stephen's Meyerowitz reference, I thought, as I was making it how Meyerowitz-like - the light, the subject - it was (more on that latter, if anyone wants to know). Little did I know that just a short while latter, it would be a perfect picture to accompany an entry about Joel Meyerowitz.

2) Yesterday afternoon, as I perused the photo magazine section for Summer reading, I found the current issue of Focus and, low and behold, it contained an interview with Joel Meyerowitz. I flipped to the interview and the first thing I read was this:

It's important to be able to read your entire body of work for the discoveries of who you were at that moment in your consciousness. Was I as conscious then as I am now? No, I'm only as conscious as I am now because of then, because the past allowed me to explore things in a very narrow focused way.

note; the italic emphasis are his, the bold emphasis are mine.

For those of you who didn't read yesterday's entry, compare that to this from that entry - written before I found the magazine - to understand the "coincidence" and why the hairs on the back of my neck were beginning to tingle:

I also that seeing clearly is an after-the-fact discovery for the photographer. For virtually every photographer who is making a body meaningful pictures, there was a process of discovery, of learning, about their chosen referent. The work we see is the work that results from an extended examination by the photographer of a referent that they now know something about ...

3) Ok. I have finished my errands and it's off to the golf course where, after 15 holes of playing alone, a nother solo golfer comes up behind me and asks to finish out the round with me. So we do it together with a bit of casual chatting. He's from Boston and in the area on a 5 month job working on the installation of some giant wind turbine farms (he seemed like he was from the managerial class, not the labor class). He and few other workers are living some temporary housing with which they were not very happy. Looking for different housing was what brought him to Plattsburg and this gold course.

Fast-forward. We wrap it up and go to our cars, pack up, and head out, he before me. A short distance on down the road, I come up behind him and we continue on our way until he arrives at his temporary housing - none other than the Grand Prix Motor Lodge.

That was it. Way to much "coincidence" for me. You could have scratched my back with a hacksaw. I didn't know whether to cry or wind my watch. I felt like I had been cow-kicked or beaten like a rented mule. I definitely needed a drink and I was going to buy one for Sam and his dog too.

PS - I would highly recommend buying the current issue of Focus if for no other reason than the Meyerowtz interview. It is very interesting and has lots to offer re: growing as an artist.