counter customizable free hit
About This Website

This blog is intended to showcase my pictures or those of other photographers who have moved beyond the pretty picture and for whom photography is more than entertainment - photography that aims at being true, not at being beautiful because what is true is most often beautiful..

>>>> Comments, commentary and lively discussions, re: my writings or any topic germane to the medium and its apparatus, are vigorously encouraged.

Search this site
Recent Topics
Journal Categories
Archives by Month
Subscribe
listed

Photography Directory by PhotoLinks

Powered by Squarespace
Login

BODIES OF WORK ~ PICTURE GALLERIES

  • my new GALLERIES WEBSITE
    ADK PLACES TO SIT / LIFE WITHOUT THE APA / RAIN / THE FORKS / EARLY WORK / TANGLES

BODIES OF WORK ~ BOOK LINKS

In Situ ~ la, la, how the life goes onLife without the APADoorsKitchen SinkRain2014 • Year in ReviewPlace To SitART ~ conveys / transports / reflectsDecay & DisgustSingle WomenPicture WindowsTangles ~ fields of visual energy (10 picture preview) • The Light + BW mini-galleryKitchen Life (gallery) • The Forks ~ there's no place like home (gallery)


Entries from July 1, 2008 - July 31, 2008

Wednesday
Jul302008

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.

Monday
Jul282008

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

The Grand Prix Motor Lodgeclick 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.

Sunday
Jul272008

civilized ku # 90 ~ more on "plain seeing"

Folating things in a poolclick to embiggenA couple comments from Friday's entry, wherein I offered up the idea of plain seeing as a means to creating more meaningful pictures, touched on what I feel are related issues.

The question - If the plainly shown is the best way to draw connection to an underlying message, does one not run the risk of looking for meaning in every plain photo? (from Martin Doonan) - and the comment - Ruskin is not talking about "plain seeing", but rather plain retelling of what one saw ... there is nothing plain about seeing for Ruskin; he says 'see clearly' which is a skill he feels few possess. (from Mark Meyer) - that I feel are related have to do with a bit of confusion about what I meant by plain seeing.

Let me be clear from the outset that I agree with Mark Meyer when he states that seeing clearly is a skill that Ruskin believes few possess. Although, to address Martin's question, IMO, many a snap-shooter is capable of making pictures that are full of meaning (both for themselves and others) because most often they picture from the heart something that is important to them. And, lacking any art training or pretensions, they almost always picture in a rather plain manner. Anyone having any doubts about this should acquire The Art of the American Snapshot, a book from the traveling exhibition (of the same name) from the National Gallery of Art. I also wrote about it here And, PS - I don't think finding meaning in shapshots places you in the lunatic fringe.

That said, on to seeing clearly / plain seeing. I believe that plain seeing is a skill that is hard to come by as seeing clearly. And, while I agree that there is a distinction between them, I firmly believe that there is also a connection as well.

In order to see clearly one must approach the notion of seeing as free as possible from the affectations and preconceptions / expectations of the cultural paradigm of which one is a part. Unless one is possessed of a preternatural sense of seeing clearly (highly doubtful), one must discover the art of it by just seeing without feeling like you know the answers - notion that I would label, plain seeing.

Think of it as if there were a pane of glass between yourself and everything you picture. Do you think you would have a better chance of seeing clearly if the glass were clean and clear or if the glass were streaked with grime and dirt? Now think of cultural affectations, preconceptions, and expectations as grime and dirt. This idea is similar to that expressed by Eugene W. Smith:

Most photographers seem to operate with a pane of glass between themselves and their subjects. They just can't get inside and know the subject.

Dirty glass is a barrier to getting inside and knowing the subject.

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 - most likely only after a period of learning, the pictures that we usually don't get to see. Know any birds that fly right out of the shell?

My contention is that one can only arrive at seeing clearly by first employing plain seeing - a state of unaffected receptiveness, thinking without falling asleep - as a means to getting inside and knowing the subject.

In should also be understood that by plain seeing I do not mean picturing without a sense of photographic aesthetic. The best of plain seeing is manifested in the form of plain telling (the print) which may appear to be snapshot-ish and artless, when in fact, it is anything but a snapshot.

My pictures are often described as mere snapshots - meant to denote a failing. Comment such as, "looks like the shutter was tripped accidentally", or, "looks like you were shooting randomly - I don't know what the subject is" I intentionally cultivate that impression for reasons having to do with finding beauty and meaning in what our culture calls the "mundane", the "everyday". I want to create a plain telling that is as free of artistic barriers as possible.

However, what I do know about my pictures, is that, to the educated eye, they display a subtle and rather sophisticated sense of design which creates a sense of cohesiveness from what seems to be a disparate conglomeration of elements. Those who have a grasp of the mediums formal characteristics known that things that appear to be "random" are actually quite deliberated.

What I have found to be very interesting about this approach is that it is very successful at conveying meaning to the 2 ends of the viewing public spectrum - those with absolutely no understanding of Art at one end and those who do at the other end. Both seem to easily intuit and connect to what I am saying. Some go "deeper" than others but all seem to understand at least a part of the meaning I try to put into my pictures.

Equally interesting is the fact that those who have trouble connecting with / understanding/ appreciating my pictures is almost exclusively the domain of the "serious" amateur photographer. The ones who expect exactly what our cultural paradigm expects of its "art" - to be spectacular and to reinforce its conventional notions of beauty and the photographic "rules".

To conclude, I believe that seeing clearly comes from first engaging in plain seeing. They are indeed "different" notions but are, nevertheless, inexorably linked. Like Ruskin, I believe that the fruits of seeing clearly are best expressed (told) in a plain way - prints free of obvious technical excesses wherein the hand of the artist maybe subtly manifest - but never as the point of a picture in and of itself - in order to draw the viewer to what really matters most in the best of Art - meaning. And, yes, the ability to see clearly and tell plainly and do so deliberately, is a precious ability possessed by a relative few.

Saturday
Jul262008

man & nature # 20 ~ the big picture

The whole pictureclick to embiggenThis is the entire scene that I encountered on Thursday from which I pictured yesterday's entry.

Yesterday's picture was not the only image I made of the scene. There are 2 more, one of which is quite "idyllic". I'll get around to posting it soon although, I must state, that it is my least favorite of the group. Even though it is plain seeing, it still leaves me a bit uncomfortable with its stunning beauty - it has the look and feel of a Hudson River School painting.

Friday
Jul252008

man & nature # 19 ~ imagine that

Rainbow in light rainclick to embiggenOnce again, the ever popular question, "How can I make better pictures?", has come to the forefront on a couple blogs / websites. Most notably so on Craig Tanner's Radiant Vista whereon he has a podcast, Finding the Heart of Your Work. The podcast is a somewhat delayed response to Joe Reifer's Going deeper may require more abstract excursions entry of May 22nd.

These two ruminations are seemingly related to part of the standard online forum mission statements which claim to answer the questions posited by means of having your picture(s) critiqued on their forums. Unfortunately, the critiques thereon are almost exclusively biased towards technique and gear which is of very little help (if any) in answering the question posited by Joe Reifer regarding how to make more meaningful pictures.

What most on these critique forums fail to realize is that there really isn't any easily canned prescribable dictumm for making meaningful pictures. The fact is, it is totally dependent upon the type of person you are. Things like, but not limited to; are you curious? are you aware? are you empathetic? are you interested in figuring things out? are you capable of seeing things anew?

Instead of thinking about gear and technique, think about this:

The greatest thing a human soul ever does in this world is to SEE something, and tell what it SAW in a plain way... To see clearly is poetry, prophecy, and religion, all in one. - John Ruskin

I agree whole heartedly with this idea and, IMO, the key to making meaningful pictures is expressed in the phrase, "tell what it SAW in a plain way". Too many people with cameras are too wrapped up in trying to make pictures that look like ... well ... pictures. By that I mean, they are trying to make pictures that look like what they have been told - either by online critique-ers, how-to books, or even well intended gurus - are good pictures. If they succeed in accomplishing that goal all they make are an endless stream of look-a-like homages to what they have seen before.

IMO, a good pictures doesn't look like a picture. It looks like what I see or, more accurately, when viewing the work of others, what they saw. It simply looks like seeing. The more closely related to plain seeing, the better. As many have opined, the best Art most often has the appearance of being effortlessly made.

Plain seeing draws attention only to the visual referent (the subject), not the photographer and by so doing, plain seeing helps the viewer establish an easier connection to the connoted (the implied, or, if you will, the meaning). To wit, the illustration does not get in the way of illumination.

And, consider this, with its intrinsic characteristic as an inimitable cohort with the real, no other visual medium can see as plainly as the medium of photography. Imagine that. What a coincidence.

Thursday
Jul242008

civilized ku # 89 ~ a photograph is not a painting (in so many ways)

The hot dog guyclick to embiggenRe: yesterday's entry, Joe Reifer wrote: "... here's the rub: most individual photographers cannot sell 200 prints at 20 bucks through their website or through a local show or gallery. Unless a photographer is somehwhat well known or very savvy at marketing (preferably both), I bet most photographers couldn't GIVE AWAY 200 prints through their website ... Also, if you're shooting for the $5,000-10,000 range and upwards, 20×200 participation will be frowned upon by the elite galleries."

Joe has 2 good points. The first involves selling prints on one's website / blog and he is correct in pointing out the difficulty in doing that. Unless one has a truly large regular audience, the chances of selling a large number of prints is rather minuscule. When attempting to market anything in quantity, both the size of the potential market and how much of that market you can reach are vitally important.

That's where gallery representation comes in to the equation. A good gallery will make the photographer's work known to a large audience of potential buyers and, by extension, in doing so, endorse the work with the backing of their reputation. As Joe also points out - "Many 20×200 editions sell really well because of the reputation of 20×200, not because the images are brilliant." True enough.

His second point, re: frowned upon by the elite galleries, seems to also be true enough. I am at a loss to understand this position.

Case in point: My son, Aaron - the Cinemascapist has been having a great deal of success getting gallery shows. Over the past year, the "quality" of the galleries has steadily improved to the point where he now has a show planned in a first tier NYC gallery. Both exposure and sales have resulted but, suffice it to say, more sales would be nice.

Especially in light of the very high cost of doing a gallery show. In the classic business model, money needs to be invested in order to generate a return. And, in my experience, most gallery owners, while not being entirely callous, just sort of expect the photographer (after being granted the privilege of being given a show) to show up up with $6-7,000 of ready to hang prints in tow, So, if one is not independently wealthy, where does that money come from?

If a sales venture, ala 20×200, is able to generate much needed cash flow for an artist, where's the harm in that? It's kind of like saying, to use a sports analogy, if you spent time toiling in the minor leagues, we're going to hold that against you to the point of making it difficult to get to the big league. Assuming that a photographer, in a 20×200-like endeavor, is not selling gallery-edition quality prints - the absolute best of papers printed to the absolute highest standards - or gallery edition size prints, where is the harm in that?

Maybe the high-end galleries (and their customers) want to insist that all their artists being starving artists. You know, to enhance the suffering for your art mentality. Nice marketing ploy if you can get it.

But what really really bugs me about this "frowned upon by the elite galleries" thing is that it seems that the high-end Art world still has not come to grips with (or simply refuses to) one of the medium's inherent characteristics - the ability to produce an endless number of "originals". No, that world is still locked into the scarce commodity mentality of the medium of painting.

Sure, this is how they keep prices high, but does that mean that an artist must struggle financially during their early years? Does that mean that collectors won't buy unique gallery edition prints - very limited editions, printed to absolute highest standards - just because there are a relative handful of non-gallery edition prints available?

A photograph is not a painting. It is possible for the work of a photographer to be seen, appreciated, and owned as an "original" print by a wider audience than the work of a painter. The viewing of "originals" need not be limited to museums, galleries, the homes of private collectors (fat chance), or books.

I applaud the fact that 20×200 is exploding the scarce commodity mentality that drives the elite galleries. IMO, what the Art world needs now is more 20×200 ventures - more outlets that reach a broad audience which appreciates photographs as Art but is not bound to the scarce commodity mentality as an integral part of that appreciation.

And, to be brutally honest, what the Art world needs even is more quality photographers with the guts to confront and buck the scarce commodity system of the "elites".

Wednesday
Jul232008

man & nature # 18 ~ simple economics

Barn and storm cloudsclick to embiggenOver the past year or so there have been a fair amount of ongoing online discussions about print pricing - prices are too high / absurd, prices are too low / absurd, make only 6 prints, make unlimited prints, etc. is the general gist of it. Maybe for most, the conversation is rather moot in as much as they won't be selling prints at any price or in any size edition.

Since I am anticipating a gallery show or two (hopefully), I have been thinking about print pricing. Some may recall from a previous post that I tentatively plan to sell my decay & disgust prints - 30×30 inch image on 48×48 inch paper - for in the neighborhood of $1,800. Now, to some, this might sound like an absurdly high price but consider the economics of the deal.

The print itself will cost approx. $250 to make (from a very skilled print maker) so, doing the math, we are now talking about $1,550. Still sound like a lot? From that number, a gallery will take a 40-50% cut leaving (at 50%) $775 for me. Still sound like a lot? I will typically incur about $50-$70 of in-house work print costs getting the master file ready to send to the printer. And, realistically, add to that another $100 of general amortized overhead expense.

At this point, I am left with approx. $600. Now, think about that - if my desire is to be a self-supported artist, by which I mean to be able to fully support myself and my art, I would have to sell at the very least 100 prints a year. Even with very good gallery representation, IMO and experience, that would be a tough nut to crack.

It's no wonder then that those photographers who have at least a bit of a high-end reputation price their work in the $5,000-$8.000 range, which, if you don't do the math, sounds absurd, right? But, if you do the math, it helps explain why so many artist photographers are also working some kind of day job.

All of that said, my pricing objective is going to be similar to that of 20×200 - their math goes like this; 3 different sized numbered print editions (small @ $20×200, medium @ $200×20 , large @ $1,000×2. 3 editions = $10,000.

The concept is proving to be very successful. Last week's photograph has nearly sold out - there is only 1 large print left unsold. That's $9,000 of print sales in 1 week. That, my friends, is amazing. And, what I like most about the concept is that, @ $20 for a small-edition print, virtually anyone an be a "collector".

I don't know what the math of 20×200 is - the artist / gallery split, but, judging by the apparent success of the concept, they are on to something here. What the results indicate is that there is a demand for a given photograph at the low end, the middle, and the high-end (albeit, in this case, the low high end) of the market thus rendering the conversation about how to price one's work - low cost / high print numbers vs high cost / low print numbers - relatively irrelevant.

Do both.

Tuesday
Jul222008

man & nature # 17 ~ tower of babble

4 porches in the rainclick to embiggenYesterday, my ire, which was directed at SquareSpace, stemmed from the fact that the upgrade caught me entirely by surprise. To be fair to SS, they had posted an announcement somewhere in what, to me, are the bowels of the Administration section of the blog software - a place that I visit rather infrequently. There really is no need for me to go there on any kind of regular basis.

Even if I had visited that section, found the upgrade notice, and click through to read it, what I would have found was a typical PR/sales piece about how great things are along with a long list of new and improved features - something that I may have glanced at but not really paid a lot of attention to. As far as I am concerned, The Landscapist is chugging along just fine, thank you, and I don't really have any plans to change anything at the moment so all of the swell new stuff just doesn't matter to me at all.

At the very bottom of the announcement was this little bit:

As always, clear your browser caches to ensure you receive the updated code. If you experience problems (and there will be some small problems!) — please write in immediately.

Of all of the info on the announcement, this bit is all I care about. One would think that this little bit would be the first thing on the announcement, in bold type, maybe screaming red in color. One would think that an email blast to every SS subscriber might be in order. One would think that, if a change is being made that will effect everyone, every means available would be used to be certain that everyone knew about.

To be certain, I am, and have been, happy with SS. They respond in good time and good fashion to support issues. I like their sense of design and utility in the templates that they offer. The ability to customize their templates is pretty easy for a non techno/code/geek person. All in all, to repeat, I am very happy with my experience with SS and would recommend them to my friends and neighbors.

That said, my ire regarding this issue is a more general one regarding the entire software industry. An industry that seems to think that the end users of their products have nothing more to do with their time a than to track and implement - "implement" is a sorry understatement for the amount of time and effort involved in many cases - an endless stream of upgrades, patches, fixes, etc.

Simply put, the software industry has us running non-stop like hamsters on a wheel. Have you ever owned anything in your life that requires / required the constant attention, maintenance and cost that software does? Think about it. Is there anything you own that owns you as much as software? And, like compliant protoplasmic slugs, aka, good little consumers, we just lie there and take it.