diptych # 47 ~ tone it down a notch or two

A sign of things to come ~ Au Sable Forks, NY - in the Adirondack Park • click to embiggenAutumn color is so much more than, as they are at times referred to in these here parts, "flaming leaves". Although, to be fair, in a marketing application that nomenclature does draw in the leaf peepers and their $$$$$ like flies on stink.

However, as anyone familiar with the landscapist knows, I don't get off on screaming color, or, for that matter, dramatic romanticized landscapes. That's simply because I am much more appreciative of the finer things - finer, as in: delicate, subtle, or sensitive in quality, perception, or discrimination - in life and art, as opposed to the strum und drang ethic - the aim of shocking an audience or imbuing them with extremes of emotion - of over-the-top picture making intentions, very often pursued and accomplished by the use of the Hue & Saturation slider to the max.

That written, it's also worth pointing out that those familiar with the landscapist have read, on quite a number of ocassions, the previous sentiment in various guises / presentations - some might even inclined to opine, ad nauseam.

Nevertheless, it a personal preference shared by many and well worth repeating for those wishing to move beyond pretty picture making and into the picturing world of making pictures of expressive consequence. In that regard I am in complete agreement with Robert Adams:

... I suspect that there will be those who will put the new technology to respectful use ... We know from experience that the pictures we treasure, the ones that sustain us, are independent of fashion. Sometimes it helps to be reminded, for courage.

diptych # 46 ~ an affection for life

Autumn views ~ Newcomb, NY - in the Adirondack Park • click to embiggen

Landscape pictures can offer us, I think, three verities - geography, autobiography, and metaphor. Geography is, if taken alone, sometimes boring, autobiography is frequently trivial, and metaphor can be dubious. But taken together, as in the best work .... the three kinds of information strengthen each other and reinforces what we all work to keep intact - an affection for life. ~ Robert Adams

Geography = on High Peaks Golf Course / Newcomb, NY - in the Adirondack PARK. Autobiography = me, what I see and how I see it. Metaphor = an affection for all things life, matter how commonplace.

diptych # 45 ~ as observed

Seen while sitting on my porch ~ Au Sable Forks, NY - in the Adirondack Park • click to embiggen

diptych # 44 ~ more Rite Aid

Rite Aid ~ Newcomb, NY - in the Adirondack Park • click to embiggen2 more pictures from my Rite Aid series.

diptych # 41 ~ eat healthy, it's good for you

Clothlines ~ Stone Harbor, NJ • click to embiggenOver my many years of association with the medium of photography and its apparatus (aka: conventions and vernacular), especially that of picture making as art, I have come to realize that the one quality I appreciate most in a picture is that of wondering why a picture maker made the picture I am viewing - a question which incites in me a desire to move beyond the visually obvious.

To wit .... if upon first viewing a picture, a picture maker's intent and subsequent execution thereof hits me in the eye like a big pizza of pie (for me) that's not amore because (again, for me) it's not so much of a story.

More often than not, the why-did-he/she-make-this-picture? thought happens when the picture maker has taken me to a scene I've never seen previously - both visually and emotionally / intellectually. A picture which requires me, by visual force* if necessary, to get involved with the picture by using more than just my eyes.

To my eye and sensibilities, there is very little more visually forceful than an exquisitely rendered representation of an "ordinary" scene. TMEaS, that characteristic / quality in a picture literally begs the question, "why was such care and attention taken to illustrate such a 'mundane' subject / scene"? And, because I have a mind which is often driven by curiosity and a desire to learn a new trick or two (keeps life interesting, does it not?), I can't help but try to find an answer to that question.

In a nut shell and all of that written, I am not so interested in pictures which provide easy answers. Rather, I am interested in those which pose questions and, hence, food for thought.

After all, when all is said and done, are you not what you eat?

diptych # 40 ~ bookends

Late day rain / early morning light ~ Stone Harbor, NJ / Northway - Exit 30 - in the Adirondack Park • click to embiggenOne of the best things about going to the South Jersey Shore is leaving the South Jersey Shore.

In both cases, going to and leaving from, my drive has always been during the dark of the night. By so doing, I avoid the slow moving parking lots called the Jersey Turnpike and/or the Garden State Parkway. At night I can make the trip in six-and-a-half hours, whereas by day, the same trip can take 8-9 hours or, worse case, even more time.

In any event, on my drive home, I generally time it to hit the southern border of the Adirondack PARK just as the sun is starting to lighten the sky. Before I reach my exit on the Northway, I get to witness a nice sunrise and the drive from the Northway to my home is undertaken in warm early morning light - it's a wonderful welcome back home respite after the long drive.

This year, on the evening of my departure from the shore, I was treated to an early evening rain with the sun masked by haze (mist + humid air) which basked the landscape with a warm pleasant glow. If the light show, as nice as it was, was an attempt by the weather gods to entice me to return to the shore, it didn't work. Or, it could have just been a goodbye and good riddance token to show their appreciation of my self-imposed exile from the South Jersey Shore.

On the other hand, as I approached my exit on the Northway (you can just make out the exit sign in the picture) the morning light show made me think and feel liked I had returned to the Promised Land.

diptych # 39 ~ 30 yards apart / reckoning truthfully

Evening light / morning light ~ Taylor Pond - in the Adirondack Park • click to embiggen

The doubt that the work celebrates is not the same as the angry alienation of the fashionable rejectionist; neither is it the passivity of the man who counts all evils to be equal, or who calls a flawed good no better than an evil because it is imperfect. It is, rather, the active refusal to render the world beautiful just because we desperately want it to be that way, combined with the refusal to render it ugly just because we distrust our longing for beauty. It is at all times reckoning each against the other, and it is authentically hopeful for as long as the doubter can persuade himself that he is reckoning truthfully, of which he must of course persuade himself anew, every moment his eyes are open. ~ Leo Rubinfien

My blog entries have been somewhat few and far between and short on writing due to the fact that summer is flying by. It's been filled with travel, getaways, and work for clients and my pictures + words project amongst other things. And, from here on out, it doesn't get any less busy - next week is the Jersey-Shore-from-hell week and, the week after we return, it's off to Rist Camp - a beautiful rustic Adirondack camp - for 4 weeks. During those 4 weeks, I also am taking Hugo to Rochester for a 5 day hockey camp.

The Rist Camp is only 40 miles from home as the crow flies but 80 miles as the car drives. I will be stopping home from time to time during those 4 weeks, so I will be posting now and again - maybe more, depending upon internet access at the camp.

That written, my thanks go out to those who have stuck with me, blog wise, during this lean period. Hang in there and your patience will be rewarded after the summer is over.

BTW, hope you are enjoying your summer and having as much fun as I am.

pictures + words # 5 ~ diptych # 5 / words e

# 5 • click to embiggen

Walking to work, reading, fondled by breezes, my mind has been swimming in perplexities following a Japanese tale in circles, listening to clairvoyant sisters with Greek island names. Murakami speaks to me.