
A pause to adjust my bearings • click on photo to embiggen itJeff Wall, the artist who uses photography, has stated; "Believing in the specialness of what you are photographing is a disaster. Then you think that the photograph will be good because of what is in it. Cezanne taught me that is not true. He expunged any attachment to the subject matter, except what he brought to it. In the painting he would bring it back to life. Only by believing that his painting it would enliven it could he make it happen."
As I was reading this in yesterday's NY Times Magazine's cover article - The Photographer's Ambition: Where Jeff Wall has taken the photograph, godzilla fell off his perch and warm late-day sunlight streamed in throught the window. Confused and conflicted, I set down the magazine, grabbed my constant companion - my camera, not the wife - and pictured.
The pro-filmic moment possessed no particular specialness. Yes, there was nice warm light striking one of our new chairs (in the tv/family room) but I expect that to happen at least 100+ times in the coming year. Sure, godzilla had rearranged himself to a postion of unexpected prominence and the wife's jacket will probably never again hang on a dining room chair in exactly the same manner. And true enough, this particular moment of Hobson-Kelleher-McGannon household detritus truthiness will never be quite the same, but, at that specific moment, I was looking for specialness, I just needed to conceptualize and hold on to something real.
Why? Because I knew that no matter how large I make my prints (Wall makes his, rather fittingly, wall-size) I will never sell them for a $1,000,000 a pop - Wall's current gallery price. To be more precise, the bulk of Wall's work consists of wall-sized cibachrome transparencies which are displayed on correspondingly wall-sized light boxes.
I also knew that I will never have the luxury to construct a reality (apparently one possessing no specialness) like Wall's The Flooded Grave - Wall described the 'event' of this work as "a moment in a cemetery. The viewer might imagine a walk on a rainy day. He or she stops before a flooded hole and gazes into it and for some reason imagines the ocean bottom. We see the instant of that fantasy, and in another instant it will be gone."
The Flooded Grave 
The Flooded Grave 1998–2000 © The artistwas completed over a two-year period, and photographed at two different cemeteries in Vancouver as well as on a set in the artist's studio. It was constructed as a digital montage from around 75 different images.
I also now know that I will never be educated as an art historian (as Wall was) in order to make photographs that conceptually and by the physicallity of their sheer size pay homage to and imitate the medium of painting. Thank god. Although, I must say, I envy Wall's ability to make a very fine living from producing only 135 photographs over a span of about 25 years.
Now, to be sure, I like some of Wall's stuff, but I really deplore the underlying premise that to make it big (pun intended) in the Art world, photography must mimic painting. Haven't photographers, as opposed to artists using photographic apparatus, toiled for generations to establish photography as a medium with its own unique vernacular and one worthy of its own unique standing alongside the "traditional" arts?
Sure enough, Wall is using much of that vernacular to create an illusion of photography's ability to render a reasonable facsimile of reality. And, sure enough, by his controlled fabrication of the pro-filmic moment (rather than "finding" it in the "real" world) he sets the mind a-thinking about photography's truthiness conventions - oh my, oh my, the conceptual irony of it all - but 25 years and a million bucks a pop to figure that out?
Hell, for a mere $9.95, Steve Edwards will set you straight on that notion in his book Photography: A Very Short Introduction.
See more of Jeff Wall's work, and/or, you can read about his current show at MOMA.
Addendum: The more I view A pause to adjust my bearings, the more I am drawn to Steve and Ana's give and take on urban ku # 32; Steve wrote: "I want to make photographs that I would appreciate even with no memory of the time or place they were captured."
Then Ana wrote: "That remark resonated with me in an interesting way because one of the wonderful things about photographs or any art, really is that the work may have no relation to my personal experience and yet when I see them they become symbolic of a time and place in my life. They're like a passage in a book that was written by someone else and yet upon reading they encapsulate perfectly something in my own experience."
Why does this exchange come to mind? Because, although A pause to adjust my bearings is a "passage" in my book, I think that I have pictured a moment which, while it has specificity for me, captures a "unviversalness" (dispite the referent's lack of specialness) that others might "appreciate even with no memory of the time or place [it was] captured".
Featured Comment: this comment came via the emailman - C. Butler wrote; "Blov'
I took a look at one of Wall photos at his site.
The one with the torn or sliced bed.
My quick response is this - "HUH?"
Not to massage your ego, but, the composition
of the photo that you took on a "whim", {godzilla gets knocked on his ass}
is far better than that thrown sh-- I saw on the the 'Wall'."
publisher's comment: Thank you, Clarence. The ego has so noted it.
Featured Comment: this comment also came via the emailman - Lee Bacchus wrote; "Personally,I feel Wall will one day claim equal space in the history of art alongside Breughel, Bernini, Caravaggio, Vermeer, Valesquez, Manet, Goya, Cezanne and many other "masters." The criteria here being (other than his own artistic rigor and craft) the "wholeness" of his experience (by that fuzzy term I mean his faithfulness to "what he has seen" — or "the painter of modern life", as he borrowed from Baudelaire) and his large role in changing the course of art following the advent of modernism and the avant-garde."
ku ~ a brief "batty" history
Peter Henry Emerson (1856-1936) is considered by many photo historians to have made a greater impression on Victorian photography than any of his contemporaries. His photography and ideas about photography succeeded in laying down the foundations of a new, unsentimental type of work, and laying the groundwork for the Photo-Secession movement. Heavy stuff, that.
Emerson's big idea at the time was "Naturalistic Photography" - his main claim was that one should treat photography as a legitimate art in its own right, rather than seek to imitate other art forms; imitation was not needed - it could confer its own legitimacy without it.
Emerson's feeling was that pictorialism was becoming somewhat bogged down due to sentimentalism and artificiality. At the same time, others were becoming dissatisfied with the fact that the Photographic Society had become too concerned with scientific rather than with artistic aspects of photography.
Emerson urged that photographic students should look at nature rather than paintings, that one should look at the range-finder or focusing screen and see what kind of pictures this created. He felt every student should "..try to produce one picture of his own...which shall show the author has something to say and knows how to say it; that is something to have accomplished..."
Sound familiar?
Emerson also argued that a photographer should imitate the eye. He claimed that one only sees sharpness in the centre, and that the image is slightly blurred at the periphery, and therefore suggested that one should make a photograph slightly out of focus in order to achieve that effect, merely ensuring that the image in the centre is sharp. In his book he wrote: "Nothing in nature has a hard outline, but everything is seen against something else, and its outlines fade gently into something else, often so subtly that you cannot quite distinguish where one ends and the other begins. In this mingled decision and indecision, this lost and found, lies all the charm and mystery of nature."
Had a good look at my photographs lately?
In Photography: A Very Short Introduction, Edwards states (regarding this imitate-the-eye approach to photography) that "'[i]t ought to be apparent that Emerson's attempt to model the photograph on a particular conception of the retinal image was quite batty (though, it is no worse a a picture for that). Interestingly enough, it is this very approach that I take to my photography that also drives most camera-clubbers batty. It also drove many of Emerson's peers rather batty as well.
And, for the NPNers in the room, Emerson was not the easiest of people to get on with, and was inclined ... to make sarcastic and vitriolic remarks...
Sound like (ocassionally) somebody you know?
PS - I have finished Photography: A Very Short Introduction. It's an easy, informative and thought-provoking read and, for the most part, avoids any protracted dips into academic obtuseness. Consequently, I am upgrading my previous Must Read Alert to a MUST READ MUST READ - that's a rare double-dog MUST READ alert for this book. I will be bloviating on various ideas and issues raised in the book for quite awhile.
Featured Comment: Paul Maxim wrote (in part); "... the stuff about "imitating the eye" (Emerson) is unadulterated nonsense. The eye may, in fact, see that way (in much the same way that it "sees" things upside down), but the brain doesn't interpret the image that way. It fills things in. Even if the outer regions of the "picture" in reality are out of focus, the brain (and you) sees everything in focus. Saying that a photograph that's fuzzy on the edges and includes very obvious vignetting is "more like we really see" is simply not true...."
Featured Comment: Steve Lawler wrote (in part); "Add me to the Emerson camp. The thing that struck me while following this thread is that in many respects we're discussing the difference between "looking" and "seeing," between the physical capabilities of the organism and the image we "feel." ... Photographic technology of allows us to create sharper images than ever before, yet more often than not, I prefer the impressionistic approach..."
publisher's comment: Mary D., you're totally freaking me out.