man & nature # 30 ~ it's a chicken

Poultry madness • click to embiggenThe State Fair was fun and hot and crowded. And, much to our surprise, Hugo stuck it out for almost 7 hours.

I introduced Hugo to exotic chickens - I would go to the fair even if exotic chickens were the only thing there - and he seemed to like them quite a bit. The wife, on the other hand, was driven from the building by the aromatic atmosphere, something she calls "stench". I guess that's an unavoidable feature of 1,000+ chickens in a single enclosed space.

civilized ku # 95 ~ seeking or hiding?

Another Saturday night and I ain't got
nobody... • Click to embiggenLater today, it's off to the NY State Fair in Syracuse, NY. Along the way, the wife and I will pick up Hugo and then it's a 3.5-4 drive through the park to the hotel where we will spend the night.

Normally I do not hanker to attend events with lots of people and the fair will be packed with people - on Saturday I can expect to be mingling with about 100,000 of my fellow fair goers. It will also be around 85F. The combination of these 2 conditions would usually take me over the edge but not tomorrow because it's THE FAIR.

When I was a kid, we lived about 10 miles from the NYS Fairgrounds. I was probably about Hugo's age (just turned 4) when I started my fair-going days. The things I remember most - the Hall of the Future, the smell of grilled peppers, onions, and Italian sausage, candy apples, the roar / dust / smell of the stockcar races, 100s of exotic chickens, and, of course, the midway.

Most likely, I will make a million pictures at the fair. I have been thinking a lot about my picturing lately - mainly along the lines of what's it all about, Alfie - and, right on cue, I came across this from a.d. coleman

People who are (or who seek to be) fully alive seem to share an impulse toward adventure, an urge to encounter that which is different, unpredictable, unknown. This desire to test and stretch the self by expanding one's experience is frequently the motivation for those who go beyond photography's familial record-keeping function and begin to use the camera as a probe. The camera, however is often used as a shield as well as a probe. In the guise of confronting reality, it permits us to place a glass and metal machine in front of our eyes ... and allows us to reduce the fullness of an event to the two-dimensional interplay of forms within a frame on a tiny piece of glass. Consequently, the camera enables us to delude ourselves into believing that we are facing the world through it when in fact we are frequently hiding from the world behind it.

Now, I know for a fact that the time when I was picturing a 19 year old boy dieing in front of me in an emergency room while doctors were splitting his chest open in a attempt to save him (and his injured girlfriend was crying and calling for him from the adjoining ER), my camera did indeed shield me from some of the shock-and-awe aspects of the experience. No doubt about it.

And, I must confess that recently, as an example, while I was picturing my impressions of the Jersey Shore, the camera was a device that helped keep my anger and revulsion about what I was "seeing" from bubbling over into destructive acts of eco-terrorism. But, IMO, that was more an act of sublimation - to divert the energy of an impulse from its immediate goal to one of a more acceptable social, moral, or aesthetic nature or use - than an act of avoidance. In my case, that would be diversion to something of an aesthetic nature, of course.

All of that said, I can't help but wonder if, for me, photography / picturing is more of a probe or a shield. More on that later. However, one thing about myself that I do know for certain was expressed best by Richard Avedon:

If a day goes by without my doing something related to photography, it's as though I've neglected something essential to my existence, as though I had forgotten to wake up.

How about you - probe or shield? And, is a day without photography like a day without sunshine?

ku # 531 ~ another dilema

Small brook and clouds • click to
embiggenI received my Shutterfly-printed Shore Light ~ Book One yesterday. In a display of rather immodest self aggrandizement, I must say that it's rather impressive and a real page turner.

Now that I have seen the excellent quality of the book - paper, color, binding and cover materials - I will now proceed to order a printed Book Two. Shutterfly has always been my first choice for what I refer to as my proof books. Their prices are very reasonable so I can sort of bang out a first-look copy of a book just to see what it looks like before I go ahead and order a "deluxe" finished book from SharedInk (outstanding quality, more expensive).

However, this time around my proof books are not so reasonable in cost - just under $400 for the 2 books, not including shipping. The books are 12×12 with leather covers (I'd prefer linen but that option seems to have disappeared). Book One has 100 pages (the highest number that Shutterfly offers in a single book), Book Two has 86 pages. The high page count is due to the fact that each 2-page spread only has 1 photo (on the righthand page), hence 2 pages for every 1 photo.

Cost-wise this is a very extravagant way to go but I really like not having "competing" pictures on a spread. That way, each spread of 1 photo has the viewer's complete attention, in much the same way as viewing a single print on a gallery wall. And, as one turns the page, each spread / picture becomes a brand new experience, again, just like moving from print to print in a gallery exhibition.

That said, my intent with these books is to offer them as a signed limited edition set together with 1 signed limited edition print - a 17×17 inch image on 24×24 inch paper. Edition numbers are limited to 25 books and 5 prints per image.

I had wanted to have the in-gallery price for a book set + print to be $1,200. However, with a 2 book set, that doesn't look to be feasible. Guess I have to give this some more thought.

man & nature # 29 ~ punctum

The Au Sable River, Keesville • click
to embiggenRecently, I been receiving a fair number of emails from Landscapist visitors. As time allows, I am trying to respond to each and every one. If you have send me an email and I have yet to respond, hang in there - a response will be forthcoming.

One email from a regular visitor and occasional commentor, Don / Scoop, caught my attention in a big way. Don wrote:

I have started another photo blog about my time in Vietnam. I have many, many pictures and slides to sort through. I know you are very busy but if you could take a look at my blog and let me know what you think it would be really appreciated.

I have taken a look at Don's blog. In fact, more than once. It is still in a fledgling stage - Don has only posted a very small number of what is apparently a rather substantial number of pictures he has from his days in Vietnam (March 1969-February 1970). Nevertheless, the pictures that are posted have struck me in a very powerful way.

Unlike Don who enlisted in the Marines, I was drafted (1966) into the Army during the Vietnam War. Unlike Don, I was not a combat infantryman. And, unlike Don, I did not spend any appreciable time in Vietnam. My time in Vietnam can be measured hours, not days, months or years.

Like Don, I also always carried a camera with me. Unlike Don, who carried his camera while he was doing his duty as a machinegunner, I carried mine while doing my duty as a photographer.

All of that said, Don's picture are amongst the most powerful I have ever encountered. For me, they contain a punctum - that accident which pricks, bruises me." It is the unintentional detail that could not not be taken, and that "fills the whole picture." - that reaches to the very core of my being.

The unintentional detail that pricks and bruises me in Don's pictures is the palpable sensation I have in the pit of stomach of raw anxiety and fear coupled with a nearly overwhelming feeling of there but for the grace of god ....

It's the exact same sensations and feeling that I experienced - very unexpectedly - upon seeing for the first time the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, DC - all those names, all those dead people, most of whom died horrible deaths coupled with the realization that my name could easily have been on that wall. I was emotionally overwhelmed. I was stunned. And I was struck by the notion of what could have been.

Don's pictures trigger the same reaction, but in different manner. They put faces and places on the names. I can't help but wonder which faces made it out alive and which ones had but a short time to live. Which ones would never see their family and loved ones again. Thoughts of children who would never get to know their fathers. And of Vietnamese children who would also die horrible deaths.

Although I did not face a bullet fired at me in combat, I still have a very vivid sense of "surviving" that war. I think there is more than little sense of "survivor's guilt" at play. Hell, while many of my generation were slogging through that war, some dying, others physically and emotionally maimed and crippled, some surviving, I was was mucking around in Japan, living with my (now ex)wife in a comfy little Japanese-style apartment doing my duty with a camera concerned with f/stops, shutter speeds, and focus.

So, Don - I love the blog and your photographs. They are a very powerful testament to what was and, for me, what could have been. I will follow the blog with intense interest and if you need help scanning please let me know.

Your pictures are a true and powerful embodiment of Diane Arbus' statement:

I really believe there are things nobody would see if I didn't photograph them.

Keep posting and showing us things that most have never seen.

You can see Don's blog HERE.

Shore Light ~ Book Two

Re: Book One, Kent Wiley commented that "I don't get the overall picture/concept of Shore Light. Does this make me a "zombie?" ... I think you've got a lot more going on than simply Shore Light. But that title confuses me."

OK. Perhaps a bit more information might be of help, like, say, the full title - Shore Light ~ Impressions of the Jersey Shore. And, let's add to that my intro / artist statement:

The barrier island of Stone Harbor/Avalon, New Jersey is a microcosm of the world at large. Within the confines of a tiny ecosystem, the forces of nature and those of humankind compete for space to live and, as the pageant unfolds, the place itself is bathed in a light that only a seaside environment can know.

That light sculpts and shapes our very impressions of the confrontation that is at hand. It is seductive and alluring, making both the natural world and the most banal and destructive of humankind’s effort seem alive with promise and beauty.

While I do not pretend to be a neutral observer in the confrontation between humankind and the environment, I present these impressions of the Jersey Shore in and around the neighborhood of Stone Harbor, NJ as a record of what was during the Summers of 2006-2008.

I want the viewers of my photographs to feel as though they were standing in my shoes, seeing what I saw. Not as dispassionate uninvolved gawkers, but rather as an observer / participant with something to lose or to gain. Something that lingers beneath the merely visible but to which the visible is a clue.

It should be noted that both the title and the intro are tentative at this point as is the fact that there are a total of 80+ pictures in the work which are divided into 2 books. I like the idea of 2 books but unlike the 2 seen here, I will most likely divide the pictures equally between the 2 books.

Why 2 books? that's simply because Shutterfly's page limit is 100 pages. The manner in which I have chosen to present the picture, 1 per spread, means that I can not fit them all into 1 book. My initial intent is to offer the 2 books as a signed and numbered limited edition of 25 sets.

And, since I will most likely continue to picture the Jersey Shore - I would really like to visit / picture in the fall, Book Three (or more) is a possibility.

Click here to view this photo book.

civilized ku # 94 ~ even more on seeing

Abandoned Keesville mill on the Au Sable
River • click to embiggenThere were some great comments on the recent ku # 531 ~ on seeing entry. If you haven't read them, you should.

One comment in particular from Joe Reifer really caught my attention:

Just because a lot of people appear to be zombies, doesn't mean they actually are zombies, or that we should be judgmental about them being zombies.

I tend to disagree with Joe's defense of non-seeing zombies.

When I write about "seeing", I most often mean seeing, photography-wise which means seeing that addresses not only the referent - the obvious visual subject - but the connoted as well. The connoted - the implied / the message / the meaning or what ever you choose to call that which is not visible to the eye - is the stuff that is beneath/beyond the surface of the picture. What many have labeled making visible that which is invisible.

Consider my recent Shore Light work. On the surface of things, the body of work contains many pictures that, individually, can hold their weight on a gallery wall. They are striking illustrations / observations of the place called Stone Harbor, NJ. Many might consider them to be perfect documents in as much as they convey a very clear and accurate visual description of that place.

Amazing as it might seem to me, and as I mentioned previously, much of what I offer to be seen in my pictures - just the purely visual, the surface of things - in fact, goes unseen by many, if not most. In and of itself, this is not a crime .... BUT ... consider this:

I think a photography class should be a requirement in all educational programs because it makes you see the world rather than just look at it. And by seeing we also begin to understand ourselves (my emphasis) ~ Anonymous

That said, my question about "seeing" is this - if most can not even see the surface of things with any real clarity, how in the hell are they going to begin to understand anything, much less themselves or, collectively, "ourselves"? Understanding means getting beneath the surface of things, digging deep, getting beyond the obvious. To accomplish that, one must be fully awake and aware - eyes and mind wide open - to the world that surrounds you.

IMO, most people are zombies of sorts. They traverse the landscape never seeing - literally and figuratively - the land through which they move. The blight - literally and figuratively - that is urban decay, urban / suburban sprawl, and environmental ravagement is apparently quite literally invisible to the zombies. How else does one explain the existence, much less the tolerance, of such ubiquitous ugliness?

Although, in fact, I don't think that the zombies don't see it. I think they just block it out. Which also explains the allure and preference for "pretty" pictures that have no real "depth" but are merely visual vehicles that facilitate not thinking about the real.

In response to Joe's statement I would have to venture that if it walks like a zombie (the semblance of life) and quacks like a zombie (mute and will-less), it probably is a zombie.

And, to go one step further, let's actually make it a crime - most zombies are given those rote qualities so that some force can use them for evil purposes. Think about that notion for a moment .....

civilized ku # 93 ~ going, going ....

HUgo's 4th birthday party • click
to embiggen Man, does time fly. Hugo is 4 years old and turning into a full-blown kid.

And, speaking of time flying by, we have some hardwood trees that are sporting full-blown autumn colors. That's very unusual for early July ... no ... wait ... looking at a calender I notice that it's not early July. Maybe my misperception stems from all the rain we've been having. It feels more like late Spring than late Summer.

Oddly enough, even though I feel like it's early July, I remember the 4th of July fireworks like it was 4 months ago. I am definitely out of whack time-wise.

Shore Light ~ Book One

This is a test - While finishing up my Shore Light ~ Book One and Book Two POD books on Shutterfly, I noticed the ability to post this on my blog. It's little slow (if you use the "Play" button) and a little small in the window here but, if you click on "view this photo book", it will take you to Shutterfly where the book is bigger and faster.

FYI, the "Play" button starts an auto slide show. Using the forward / back buttons gives you control of page turning. Using the scroll bar / button lets you go through the spread thumbs to any point in the book.

FYI #2, I have added 20 more pictures - "re-processed" pictures from 2006-07 - to the Shore Light website. By nature of the alphabetical ordering (by picture title) of the gallery, the new pictures are sprinkled throughout the gallery. IMO, they blend seamlessly with this year's pictures.

As always, I would appreciate knowing your thoughts.

Click here to view this photo book.