Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed the “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” project. I liked being able to see how each person reinterpreted the original image, and managed to hybridize their unique artistic voice with their partner’s. I also appreciated being able to see examples of people’s more recent work, as I thrive in an environment where I am surrounded by other’s perspectives and ideas.
One pair of images that particularly struck me was Jenny’s original, and Courtney’s remix. In a way, this pair was one of the most dramatically altered. Courtney’s remix ended up looking nothing like Jenny’s original and yet they both were extremely visually striking. Because I have never been exposed to alternative processes, Jenny’s picture of flowers really stood out. To me, the picture had a very natural quality, the inherent beauty of the flowers enhanced by the pale yellow chemical drips. I also feel like the picture had a dream like aura, much like Mimi’s remix of my image. Both Mimi’s remix and Jenny’s original were obscured through some method, forcing the viewer to see the original picture through some sort of artificial haze.
Courtney’s remix of Jenny’s original negative was also an incredibly dynamic image. The austere visual simplicity immediately drew me in, and not only was the image visually simple, but it was also (I presume), simple to make. Courtney constructed her piece by creating a photogram (if I remember correctly), literally the first thing I learnt in photo class. However, simple things done well often result in the finest product, and to put it simply, Courtney’s gamble resulted in a beautiful final image. To have such a simple flower surrounded by so much black isolates the simple figure, and forces the viewer to pay attention to the lines of the subject.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Moriyama and Goldin Doc
After watching the documentary on Nan Goldin and Daido Moriyama, I found myself particularly interested in the similarities between the two photographers. Both Goldin and Moriyama don’t take particularly pretty pictures, but both had fairly radical subject matter for their time. Goldin in particular had a revolutionary portfolio that consisted of pictures that were completely sexually honest. That’s not to say Moriyama didn’t also reject mainstream aesthetic sensibilities with his experimental black and white pictures. In fact I felt myself very drawn to the way both photographers ignored the canonical rules (I doubt either of them used the zone system), and instead took real honest pictures of what surrounds them, in the vein of Cartier-Bresson, Frank, and Walker Evans.
My issues with the documentary were fairly limited. I wish it could have been a bit longer for each photographer, and I wish I could have seen archival footage of either artist at work, (such as in the Sally Mann documentary). I also wish we could have seen any image of Nan Goldin actually speaking, because just watching the images with a voice over was a bit like a slide show. I find it much easier to empathize with eyes and a face rather than with just a voice. On the other hand, I appreciated that they showed images of Moriyama actually working. It was sort of amusing to see this famous photographer as an old man who, everyday, goes out, gets drunk, and then takes photographs. Obviously it doesn’t present the other side of being a famous photographer, i.e. lectures, shows, and meetings with dealers. However, what the documentary presents is the meat and potatoes of photography, that is, the actual act of taking pictures. Even in Goldin’s segment, the way her work is presented forces the viewer to judge it at face value.
My issues with the documentary were fairly limited. I wish it could have been a bit longer for each photographer, and I wish I could have seen archival footage of either artist at work, (such as in the Sally Mann documentary). I also wish we could have seen any image of Nan Goldin actually speaking, because just watching the images with a voice over was a bit like a slide show. I find it much easier to empathize with eyes and a face rather than with just a voice. On the other hand, I appreciated that they showed images of Moriyama actually working. It was sort of amusing to see this famous photographer as an old man who, everyday, goes out, gets drunk, and then takes photographs. Obviously it doesn’t present the other side of being a famous photographer, i.e. lectures, shows, and meetings with dealers. However, what the documentary presents is the meat and potatoes of photography, that is, the actual act of taking pictures. Even in Goldin’s segment, the way her work is presented forces the viewer to judge it at face value.
Nan Goldin and Daido Moriyama
The documentary of Nan Goldin and Daido Moriyama showed them both to try to use photography to capture the world around them. I found it interesting the similarity of their interest with the huge difference in their background, approach, and style.
Nan Goldin’s intense absorption into the world that she photographed made her images seem all the more powerful after seeing the documentary. Hearing her descriptions of living at night with her transvestite friends and their trips to their mafia owned bar and involvement in drugs and then her spiral into her heroine addiction. Her story seemed greatly intensified the content of her images, putting these provocative images into context adding such a human dimension to them helping me to see, I think, what she was trying to capture.
Moriyama did not immerse himself in the world like Nan Goldin did, he more took his simple camera and traveled into the depths of the city trying to capture the emotion he felt. At first I though his approach seemed rather haphazard, but it seemed to be much more a personal documentation of the world he was trying to explore and learn more about. Also his past was so vastly different, he wanted to be sailor and was not able to and kind of fell into photography. This differs from Nan Goldin and so he seemed much more like an outsider looking into the dark gritty world that he recorded walking down the dark streets.
Negative Exchange
Our negative exchange really helped me see the different ability of varying mediums to bring out completely different emotional and formal response from both the viewer and the creator. Whether a small touch of contrast or framing could cause a complete metamorphosis of the work that we can really find our voice in the production of our images.
Charly’s interpretation of Chrissy’s image is a very interesting example of how by applying his distinct methods to such a strong image he was able to maintain such a strong impact. Despite completely changing the context of the image many elements are still seen strongly in both. Both look like a piece of a story; Chrissy’s tilted format gives the print a sense of urgency and clearly belongs to a series, while Charly printed the sprockets of the original image and created a set that looks lifelike in its dimensionality and tries to tell a story even if it is not clearly obvious.
I was very taken in by the scope of Charly’s interpretation and its terrific success at incorporating someone else’s image so seamlessly into his own style. It was surprising how similar the images felt despite neither of them seeing other’s final product. Chrissy used a very harsh contrast black and white print and eerie vanishing of the subjects arms into the black to create a sense of grit, danger, and violence. While Charly’s interpretation conveys nearly the same emotions through a digital color with very graphic fake blood splattered onto the print of Chrissy’s image and the anonymity of the hooded figure (ken doll) standing in front of the scene. I was astonished by how such different approaches to the same original image could create a very similar impact yet be totally separate works.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Negative Exchange Response
For the first part of our very first project in class, we exchanged negatives with a partner and without seeing what our partner did to their negative, or what they were doing with our negative, we interpreted the image in our own ways.
I think the whole class came up with some very interesting images. It was great to see all of the creative processes that people used to make an image that was originally someone else's their own.
Having created images that varied very differently from my partner's - Jamie - I would actually like to talk about two images that didn't vary quite as much as some others in class, and they would be Kathleen's original print and Grace's interpretation of it.
Even though both photographs were pretty much the same size, and there weren't any sort of alternative processes used in making the prints, it was quite striking how different the images read. And it was all due to a couple minor changes, like the contrast of the the photo, and then also the type of border that each person included in their final photograph. Grace's interpretation had a much higher contrast level than Kathleen's original which even just that created in both images very different moods and environments. The figures in Kathleen's seemed much softer and calmer and there was this sense of hope in the expressions of the girls faces. But in Grace's image, the harshness of the darker blacks gave the photograph this edge to it and really gave it almost a condescending undertone... I don't know if that is quite the right word to describe what I mean, but in Grace's photograph, when looking at it, I almost felt that the girls were staring at me from their place in their photo in almost a judgmental way, whereas in Kathleen's I more felt like I was sitting there in the bushes with the two sisters sharing that moment with them.
I think the whole class came up with some very interesting images. It was great to see all of the creative processes that people used to make an image that was originally someone else's their own.
Having created images that varied very differently from my partner's - Jamie - I would actually like to talk about two images that didn't vary quite as much as some others in class, and they would be Kathleen's original print and Grace's interpretation of it.
Even though both photographs were pretty much the same size, and there weren't any sort of alternative processes used in making the prints, it was quite striking how different the images read. And it was all due to a couple minor changes, like the contrast of the the photo, and then also the type of border that each person included in their final photograph. Grace's interpretation had a much higher contrast level than Kathleen's original which even just that created in both images very different moods and environments. The figures in Kathleen's seemed much softer and calmer and there was this sense of hope in the expressions of the girls faces. But in Grace's image, the harshness of the darker blacks gave the photograph this edge to it and really gave it almost a condescending undertone... I don't know if that is quite the right word to describe what I mean, but in Grace's photograph, when looking at it, I almost felt that the girls were staring at me from their place in their photo in almost a judgmental way, whereas in Kathleen's I more felt like I was sitting there in the bushes with the two sisters sharing that moment with them.
Nan Goldin and Daido Moriyama Response
Both Nan Goldin and Daido Mariyama are contemporary photographers whose focus in photography is basically the everyday and the ordinary in their lives. They both have very different lives to begin with, and their approaches to documenting these also varies.
Nan Goldin started out photographing her drag queen friends, and then progressed into taking pictures that explored "external behavior, sexuality, gender identification, and the condition of being human." She strove to capture and portray the ability to survive and how difficult that can be. She wanted to make a record of real life and so used those closest around her - her friends and lovers - as her subjects. But what made her photographs especially interesting was that although she was behind the lens of a camera, she wasn't separate from her subjects and the activities that they were doing. She was a part of them, part of everything that was going on, which gives her images a very deep sense of reality that cannot be conveyed through anything posed or staged.
Daido Moriyama, on the other hand, focused more on his surroundings and the way people interacted with and within their environment. He just simply walks around the city and "forms appear in his field of vision." Similarly to Nan Goldin, he was also interested in "dirty" things as he put it. But a major difference I think between Goldin and Moriyama is that even though some of their imagery portrays things, ideas, and lifestyles that the most of society would see as taboo or even inappropriate, Mariyama referred to these images as "dirty," whereas Goldin thought of her photos as a part of normal, everyday life.
I do really like though how Moriyama uses such a small compact camera when photographing. He justified this with the explanation that people act different when you roll up with some giant, professional, expensive looking contraption, and he really wanted his images to be candid. I really want to get a small little film camera like that and bring it to the Green Door, or other parties, and record, kinda Nan Goldin style the goings on of college life. Whenever I do go out, I usually have a crappy digital camera with me, but I really would like to be able to take the images that I get into the dark room and work with them in the same way the I do with photographs that I spend much more time composing and thinking about normally.
Nan Goldin started out photographing her drag queen friends, and then progressed into taking pictures that explored "external behavior, sexuality, gender identification, and the condition of being human." She strove to capture and portray the ability to survive and how difficult that can be. She wanted to make a record of real life and so used those closest around her - her friends and lovers - as her subjects. But what made her photographs especially interesting was that although she was behind the lens of a camera, she wasn't separate from her subjects and the activities that they were doing. She was a part of them, part of everything that was going on, which gives her images a very deep sense of reality that cannot be conveyed through anything posed or staged.
Daido Moriyama, on the other hand, focused more on his surroundings and the way people interacted with and within their environment. He just simply walks around the city and "forms appear in his field of vision." Similarly to Nan Goldin, he was also interested in "dirty" things as he put it. But a major difference I think between Goldin and Moriyama is that even though some of their imagery portrays things, ideas, and lifestyles that the most of society would see as taboo or even inappropriate, Mariyama referred to these images as "dirty," whereas Goldin thought of her photos as a part of normal, everyday life.
I do really like though how Moriyama uses such a small compact camera when photographing. He justified this with the explanation that people act different when you roll up with some giant, professional, expensive looking contraption, and he really wanted his images to be candid. I really want to get a small little film camera like that and bring it to the Green Door, or other parties, and record, kinda Nan Goldin style the goings on of college life. Whenever I do go out, I usually have a crappy digital camera with me, but I really would like to be able to take the images that I get into the dark room and work with them in the same way the I do with photographs that I spend much more time composing and thinking about normally.
Project 1, Part 1: Negative Exchange
First of all, I really enjoyed the negative exchange portion of the project. I think it forced us to jump start the semester by thinking creatively and considering different approaches for how to treat a photograph and give it meaning even without any connection to the original negative or electronic file. I also thought that it allowed us to begin experimenting freely with different techniques and ambitions within both the wet and digital darkrooms.
For my comparison of two prints (original and remix), I am most interested in Mimi's remix that she created from Jamie's original negative. I am incredibly drawn to Jamie's original print, which is a large black and white image showing a dream-like scene on a neighborhood street in which a boy wearing sunglasses sits cross-legged in the middle of the street. There are no other figures in the photograph, but there are two houses visible in the background. The shot was taken at an angle, and with a Holga camera (if I remember correctly), so there is a sense of movement and direction conveyed by the composition of the street edge and the blurry edges of the frame. The print shows a high level of contrast, which combined with the blurriness of the outer edges of the image, makes the figure in the center really stand out and seem almost ghost-like. I get a real sense of a dream, hallucination, or flash of a memory from this image.
It seems that Mimi created her remixed image with a strikingly similar approach as Jamie. She created a smaller black and white print that has the same dream-like feel, but with an entirely different mood by using alternative processes in the darkroom to layer the image with a translucent swirl of hazy lines that appear throughout the frame. It seems like she also increased the contrast a bit, and perhaps printed the image slightly darker than Jamie's, which heightens this photograph's sense of a more negative mood (maybe a nightmare or bad omen). I'm really intruiged with how her processes in the darkroom layering something on top of the image affected the overall feel of the scene - it almost seems like there is a swirl of smoke surrounding the image. So I think that this whole remix of the original image really transformed its essence as a photograph, even though some of the changes were relatively subtle.
For my comparison of two prints (original and remix), I am most interested in Mimi's remix that she created from Jamie's original negative. I am incredibly drawn to Jamie's original print, which is a large black and white image showing a dream-like scene on a neighborhood street in which a boy wearing sunglasses sits cross-legged in the middle of the street. There are no other figures in the photograph, but there are two houses visible in the background. The shot was taken at an angle, and with a Holga camera (if I remember correctly), so there is a sense of movement and direction conveyed by the composition of the street edge and the blurry edges of the frame. The print shows a high level of contrast, which combined with the blurriness of the outer edges of the image, makes the figure in the center really stand out and seem almost ghost-like. I get a real sense of a dream, hallucination, or flash of a memory from this image.
It seems that Mimi created her remixed image with a strikingly similar approach as Jamie. She created a smaller black and white print that has the same dream-like feel, but with an entirely different mood by using alternative processes in the darkroom to layer the image with a translucent swirl of hazy lines that appear throughout the frame. It seems like she also increased the contrast a bit, and perhaps printed the image slightly darker than Jamie's, which heightens this photograph's sense of a more negative mood (maybe a nightmare or bad omen). I'm really intruiged with how her processes in the darkroom layering something on top of the image affected the overall feel of the scene - it almost seems like there is a swirl of smoke surrounding the image. So I think that this whole remix of the original image really transformed its essence as a photograph, even though some of the changes were relatively subtle.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Image makers/image takers.
The thing I found most interesting in the selection from Image Makers, Image Takers, was how each artist developed their own distinct voice. Steven Shore for example, was able to go to the Light Gallery and receive feedback from John Szarkowski. In Shore’s case his path was shaped by having a mentor to consistently discuss his vision with. Shore also started working with photography quite young, getting a dark room kit by age six, a camera by age nine, selling a print to MOMA by 14, and getting a solo show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art by age 24. Shore’s current position as a teacher at Bard is also bound to influence the way he takes photographs.
In Mary Ellen Mark’s case, the main way she seems to have developed her voice is the freedom offered by magazines in the 1960s. Through this freedom, Mark was able to explore and realize her vision without worrying about money. In Mark’s words, “it was like having the most incredible grant to do my own work.” Another thing that interested me was how Mark emphasized the importance of patience for a photographer. In the interview, Mark describes multiple shots she only got because she was patient. These shots often ended up being the best ones on the roll.
For David LaChapelle the decision to become an artist was easy. LaChapelle knew he was going to be an artist from “the time I was in fourth grade primary.” For LaChapelle the person most crucial in helping him develop his artistic voice was clearly his mother. LaChapelle is also inspired by the fact that he has always been an outsider. One thing LaChapelle mentions as important for young photographers seeking to develop their voice is to, “immerse yourself in fashion history.” For me, LaChapelle is an artist who works through exposing contradiction. In fact he embraces contradiction. He comments on how his pictures are about exposing the inherent stupidity in materialism, and yet he is an integral part of an industry that is responsible for some of the most irresponsible materialistic attitudes in America.
One of the interesting aspects of Rineke Dijkstra’s work is how simplistic the pictures are. To me it illustrates how interesting people and portraits of people are. Dijkstra also stresses patience, a thing that seems to reoccur throughout these interviews. To Dijkstra the most important element of her photographs is that they are “democratic.”
Personally, I find Alec Soth a huge influence on me, and how I approach photography. I love the way he makes images with an 8 x 10 camera that look like snapshots. Soth repeatedly mentions how the most important part about photography is, “limitation, it’s about not having everything there.” Another aspect Soth emphasizes is how, “you need to work out an existing language in order to communicate – you need to work with those influences not run away from them.”
In Mary Ellen Mark’s case, the main way she seems to have developed her voice is the freedom offered by magazines in the 1960s. Through this freedom, Mark was able to explore and realize her vision without worrying about money. In Mark’s words, “it was like having the most incredible grant to do my own work.” Another thing that interested me was how Mark emphasized the importance of patience for a photographer. In the interview, Mark describes multiple shots she only got because she was patient. These shots often ended up being the best ones on the roll.
For David LaChapelle the decision to become an artist was easy. LaChapelle knew he was going to be an artist from “the time I was in fourth grade primary.” For LaChapelle the person most crucial in helping him develop his artistic voice was clearly his mother. LaChapelle is also inspired by the fact that he has always been an outsider. One thing LaChapelle mentions as important for young photographers seeking to develop their voice is to, “immerse yourself in fashion history.” For me, LaChapelle is an artist who works through exposing contradiction. In fact he embraces contradiction. He comments on how his pictures are about exposing the inherent stupidity in materialism, and yet he is an integral part of an industry that is responsible for some of the most irresponsible materialistic attitudes in America.
One of the interesting aspects of Rineke Dijkstra’s work is how simplistic the pictures are. To me it illustrates how interesting people and portraits of people are. Dijkstra also stresses patience, a thing that seems to reoccur throughout these interviews. To Dijkstra the most important element of her photographs is that they are “democratic.”
Personally, I find Alec Soth a huge influence on me, and how I approach photography. I love the way he makes images with an 8 x 10 camera that look like snapshots. Soth repeatedly mentions how the most important part about photography is, “limitation, it’s about not having everything there.” Another aspect Soth emphasizes is how, “you need to work out an existing language in order to communicate – you need to work with those influences not run away from them.”
Nan Goldin and Daido Moriyama
I really appreciated that the commentary on both of these documentaries was directly from the photographer, instead of from some other narrator or observer of the work. I think that hearing a photographer talk about their own work is important, and I'd like to see more of these documentaries.
What struck me as most interesting about Nan Goldin from the documentary was hearing her approach to photography. She mentioned that her camera functions partly as her memory because she realized early on that what she saw on TV had no connection to real life. So, she wanted to take pictures in order to keep a record of real life. It seems that she is really playing with the notion that photography reveals truth and translates reality. But when I think about the nature of photography, I think about how manipulative it can be, and how a photograph can often distort reality so much that it becomes much more than a mere documentation of a situation in a specific place. So, clearly, there are very different ways of looking at photographs. But I think that what Nan Goldin does with her images is enlightening in this regard. She touches on the idea that we as the viewer are going to project our own interpretations of what she decides to show us, despite the fact that a lot of her photographs embody a strong sense of her story and her very personal life. She photographs inside of an incredibly underground community of people associated with any variety of constant transitions between genders. So, these images become narrative of some sort of reality. Either way, I can appreciate Goldin's work even though I am interested in completely different matters. She clearly photographs her obsessions with the community in which she lives, and with gender and sexuality and any kind of transition between genders. She also mentioned that a lot of her work focuses on a central theme of the condition of being human, and the pain and how difficult is really is to survive. What really stuck with me after watching the documentary was her story about her life as a photographer before, during, and after her battle with drugs and her struggle through rehab. The fact that she photographed her face after rehab in order to see what she looked like without drugs really drives home the fact that she uses her camera as a way to see.
Daido Moriyama approached photography in a completely different way. Both photographers photographed their immediate surroundings. For Goldin, it was her home, her neighborhood, and the places that she and her friends spent the most time. For Moriyama, it was the city, in which he roamed around aimlessly and photographed anything and everything. Both of them often took pictures based on the idea of capturing a completely real and natural moment by chance instead of planning it out. However, Moriyama's process for shooting was more based on a random encounter while out "hitting the streets." He even expressed that many of his favorite images resulted from "accidental shots," captured mistakenly while advancing film. His approach is a lot like my own way of photographing by going on a journey to figure out the surroundings and using the camera as a tool on this journey. I found it quite interesting and definitely surprising to find that Moriyama used a cheap compact "point and shoot" camera. Initially, it made me think that I shouldn't take him as seriously as I would to any other serious photographer. But his explanation of why he used that camera allowed me to open my mind and think more about the effect that a camera's presence can have on a person being photographed. He stated that by using a small, more common and casual looking camera, he found that people are far less intimidated by his presence while he is taking pictures on the streets. I think that, while his images may seem more random and scattered than Goldin's photographs, they both take a fairly similar approach to the idea that photography can capture reality in a way that conveys a sense of natural truth.
What struck me as most interesting about Nan Goldin from the documentary was hearing her approach to photography. She mentioned that her camera functions partly as her memory because she realized early on that what she saw on TV had no connection to real life. So, she wanted to take pictures in order to keep a record of real life. It seems that she is really playing with the notion that photography reveals truth and translates reality. But when I think about the nature of photography, I think about how manipulative it can be, and how a photograph can often distort reality so much that it becomes much more than a mere documentation of a situation in a specific place. So, clearly, there are very different ways of looking at photographs. But I think that what Nan Goldin does with her images is enlightening in this regard. She touches on the idea that we as the viewer are going to project our own interpretations of what she decides to show us, despite the fact that a lot of her photographs embody a strong sense of her story and her very personal life. She photographs inside of an incredibly underground community of people associated with any variety of constant transitions between genders. So, these images become narrative of some sort of reality. Either way, I can appreciate Goldin's work even though I am interested in completely different matters. She clearly photographs her obsessions with the community in which she lives, and with gender and sexuality and any kind of transition between genders. She also mentioned that a lot of her work focuses on a central theme of the condition of being human, and the pain and how difficult is really is to survive. What really stuck with me after watching the documentary was her story about her life as a photographer before, during, and after her battle with drugs and her struggle through rehab. The fact that she photographed her face after rehab in order to see what she looked like without drugs really drives home the fact that she uses her camera as a way to see.
Daido Moriyama approached photography in a completely different way. Both photographers photographed their immediate surroundings. For Goldin, it was her home, her neighborhood, and the places that she and her friends spent the most time. For Moriyama, it was the city, in which he roamed around aimlessly and photographed anything and everything. Both of them often took pictures based on the idea of capturing a completely real and natural moment by chance instead of planning it out. However, Moriyama's process for shooting was more based on a random encounter while out "hitting the streets." He even expressed that many of his favorite images resulted from "accidental shots," captured mistakenly while advancing film. His approach is a lot like my own way of photographing by going on a journey to figure out the surroundings and using the camera as a tool on this journey. I found it quite interesting and definitely surprising to find that Moriyama used a cheap compact "point and shoot" camera. Initially, it made me think that I shouldn't take him as seriously as I would to any other serious photographer. But his explanation of why he used that camera allowed me to open my mind and think more about the effect that a camera's presence can have on a person being photographed. He stated that by using a small, more common and casual looking camera, he found that people are far less intimidated by his presence while he is taking pictures on the streets. I think that, while his images may seem more random and scattered than Goldin's photographs, they both take a fairly similar approach to the idea that photography can capture reality in a way that conveys a sense of natural truth.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Nan Goldin and Daido Moriyama
I liked how both artists use small, inconspicuous cameras instead of large, professional cameras. They seem to do very little editing of the images and Nan Goldin took her film to the store to be developed. This goes along with the idea that a good photograph is made when it is taken, not in the darkroom or on the computer when the contrast, cropping and color can be adjusted. The way the photographer sees the world is what makes the picture good or bad.
Both of them also photograph their surroundings and the people around them. The small cameras probably make it easier to constantly photograph other people, who may not like their photo to be taken. As Moriyama said, people shy away from the big camera. When they see the small camera, they probably think its an unimportant snapshot that noone but the photographer and/or themselves will ever see. They don't think it will appear in a photography book for the world to see.
Photography seems to be a huge part of both artists' lives. Goldin photographs her entire life, all of her friends, and everything she does. For Goldin, the pictures are her memory and she has relied on them so much that when she was in rehab, she photographed herself to see what she looked like without drugs. Moriyama said photography is not the most fun thing he can do, but he feels drawn to take pictures. They take pictures because they have to, it is part of who they are.
Both of them also photograph their surroundings and the people around them. The small cameras probably make it easier to constantly photograph other people, who may not like their photo to be taken. As Moriyama said, people shy away from the big camera. When they see the small camera, they probably think its an unimportant snapshot that noone but the photographer and/or themselves will ever see. They don't think it will appear in a photography book for the world to see.
Photography seems to be a huge part of both artists' lives. Goldin photographs her entire life, all of her friends, and everything she does. For Goldin, the pictures are her memory and she has relied on them so much that when she was in rehab, she photographed herself to see what she looked like without drugs. Moriyama said photography is not the most fun thing he can do, but he feels drawn to take pictures. They take pictures because they have to, it is part of who they are.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Source-to-self Bibliography
Brett Weston: Photographs From Five Decades. New York: Aperture Inc., 1980. Print.
Edward Weston: Fifty Years. New York: Aperture, 1973. Print.
Harry Callahan. New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 1967. Print.
Harry Callahan: Color. Ed. Robert Tow and Ricker Winsow. Providence: Matrix Publications, 1980. Print.
"Richard Misrach: On the Beach." Aperture. 174. Spring (2004): 20-31. Print.
Stephen Shore. Uncommon Places: The Complete Works. New York: Aperture, 2005. Print.
Weston, Edward. Forms of Passion. Ed. Gilles Mora. New York: Harry N. Abrams Inc., 1995. Print.
Edward Weston: Fifty Years. New York: Aperture, 1973. Print.
Harry Callahan. New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 1967. Print.
Harry Callahan: Color. Ed. Robert Tow and Ricker Winsow. Providence: Matrix Publications, 1980. Print.
"Richard Misrach: On the Beach." Aperture. 174. Spring (2004): 20-31. Print.
Stephen Shore. Uncommon Places: The Complete Works. New York: Aperture, 2005. Print.
Weston, Edward. Forms of Passion. Ed. Gilles Mora. New York: Harry N. Abrams Inc., 1995. Print.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Critique Response: Chrissy and Charley
Out of the exchanges seen today, my favorite was that between Chrissy and Charley. After seeing everyone’s art on the first day, I gained the feeling that both students enjoying doing “alternative processes”, they just have very varying interests within the term. Knowing Chrissy enjoys doing dark room printing and that Charley enjoys setting stages and printing digitally, I was looking forward to seeing their technical alterations.
Having talked to Chrissy while she was in the process, I knew that she was having difficulties choosing a direction. She managed to create great tension with the addition of high saturated coloring. This seemed additionally interesting, considering that the file was already ominous, due to its softer tones. By adding color to selected sections of the image, she was able to create distinct fore, middle, and backgrounds.
The negative given to Charley had been one I had seen before and always thought to be a very strong print. This particular image of Chrissy’s has always felt very emotional and tense, showing some sort of anxiety and distress in the subject. The way that Charley interpreted this image was incredible, not only for the way in which he used it but the connecting message he made to the original print. If Chrissy’s image is a moment of death, than Charley’s image is the murders recollection of the death of the subject in that negative. It may be that I have been watching too much SVU, but it feels like the two prints interact with one another. What changed my interpretation even more was the information that the ominous figure in the remake is not a person but a Ken doll, and he is not holding a knife, but just shot himself through the head. Although this is interesting to me, I still enjoy that it is open to interpretation.
Having talked to Chrissy while she was in the process, I knew that she was having difficulties choosing a direction. She managed to create great tension with the addition of high saturated coloring. This seemed additionally interesting, considering that the file was already ominous, due to its softer tones. By adding color to selected sections of the image, she was able to create distinct fore, middle, and backgrounds.
The negative given to Charley had been one I had seen before and always thought to be a very strong print. This particular image of Chrissy’s has always felt very emotional and tense, showing some sort of anxiety and distress in the subject. The way that Charley interpreted this image was incredible, not only for the way in which he used it but the connecting message he made to the original print. If Chrissy’s image is a moment of death, than Charley’s image is the murders recollection of the death of the subject in that negative. It may be that I have been watching too much SVU, but it feels like the two prints interact with one another. What changed my interpretation even more was the information that the ominous figure in the remake is not a person but a Ken doll, and he is not holding a knife, but just shot himself through the head. Although this is interesting to me, I still enjoy that it is open to interpretation.
Bibliography and Extra Info.
Bibliography:
Chong, A. (1994). Ancestral dialogues: the photographs of Albert Chong. San Francisco: The Friends of Photography.
Fondation Cartier pour I'art contemporain, Initials. Francesca Woodman. New York: Scalo.
Kozloff, M. (1990). Duane Michals: Now becoming then. Altadena: Twin Palms Publishers.
Lorenz, R. (1997). Imogen Cunningham: Portraiture. Canada: Little, Brown & Company.
Maddow, B. (2000). Edward Weston: his life. New York, NY: Apeture.
Spencer-Wood, S., Peretz, H, & Walters, M. (2005). Family: photographers photograph their families. New York, NY: Phaidon Press Limited.
Artists from the reading Family:
• Elinor Carucci My mother’s lips
• Raymond Depardon In my parent’s bedroom nothing has changed, 1984
During the four-minute exposure my mother moved slightly, 1984
53
• Colin Gray Heaven and Hull, 1990 Life Support 2000 Duvet Day, 2002
93
• Jacques-Henri Lartigue In my bedroom, my racing car collection, 1905
41
• Bernard Plossu Francoise, 1980s Le Sommeil, 1980s
34, 35
• Lee Friedlander Maria, New City, New York, 1961
Maria, Katonah, New York, 1972
17
• Nicholas Nixon 99
• Paul Strand Rebecca, New York, 1920s Rebecca, New York 1922
120
• Seiichi Furuya Christine, Wien, 1982
147
Chong, A. (1994). Ancestral dialogues: the photographs of Albert Chong. San Francisco: The Friends of Photography.
Fondation Cartier pour I'art contemporain, Initials. Francesca Woodman. New York: Scalo.
Kozloff, M. (1990). Duane Michals: Now becoming then. Altadena: Twin Palms Publishers.
Lorenz, R. (1997). Imogen Cunningham: Portraiture. Canada: Little, Brown & Company.
Maddow, B. (2000). Edward Weston: his life. New York, NY: Apeture.
Spencer-Wood, S., Peretz, H, & Walters, M. (2005). Family: photographers photograph their families. New York, NY: Phaidon Press Limited.
Artists from the reading Family:
• Elinor Carucci My mother’s lips
• Raymond Depardon In my parent’s bedroom nothing has changed, 1984
During the four-minute exposure my mother moved slightly, 1984
53
• Colin Gray Heaven and Hull, 1990 Life Support 2000 Duvet Day, 2002
93
• Jacques-Henri Lartigue In my bedroom, my racing car collection, 1905
41
• Bernard Plossu Francoise, 1980s Le Sommeil, 1980s
34, 35
• Lee Friedlander Maria, New City, New York, 1961
Maria, Katonah, New York, 1972
17
• Nicholas Nixon 99
• Paul Strand Rebecca, New York, 1920s Rebecca, New York 1922
120
• Seiichi Furuya Christine, Wien, 1982
147
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Golding and Moriyama
Learning about Nan Goldin and Diado Moriyama opened up my scope of vision, aiding me in the development of my theories and practices, not only as an SMP student, but as a photographer in general. This semester I am working on figuring out the difference between the narrative and the documentary photograph, trying different styles of shooting, various cameras, and attempting to produce styles of interaction with the lens about which I had not previously thought. Goldin and Moriyama offer advice and perspective on the practice of documentation photography and the emotion it may contain.
Having read this summer about Goldin and viewing several of her images, it was nice to hear the stories behind her subjects and the relationship she has with them. By hearing these stories, I am also reassured that you can find these meanings and relationships with the subjects without being Goldin and/or without prior knowledge of each characters’ life. For example, I had seen the series about Cookie in the past and felt an attachment or emotion to the images. Now having seen it, I have only gained more of an understanding and connection to these images, a connection that had already existed, yet was reinforced by Goldin’s words. I also thoroughly appreciated learning of the artist’s struggle. Having prior knowledge of her style of living and reasons for leaving her home at such a young age, it was good to hear the details of her recovery in rehab and her style of self-rehabilitation and therapy. This adds further advice to the use of photography as a form of recovery and healing of old wounds. Goldin’s fifteen minutes show great detail of how to interact with emotion in a way of preserving, remembering and documenting the daily actions of all styling of people.
Moriyama presented a different style of documentary photography, a style that I have shown interest in, yet am never able to accomplish. Often, while walking in public, we see people that inspire us, for their beauty, their actions, attitudes, and emotions. I have tried taking photos in the past and often get caught, faced with reactions of stares, glares, and nervous movements. This has steered me away from the act of shooting inspiring strangers. Moriyama does just this, walking from corner to corner, bar to bar, for whole nights to catch the beauty. He works with the idea that they might not even be “photos”, but still mean something to him. The greatest advice from this is that if you carry a simple camera it keeps people from resisting the image. This is something I look forward to doing in the future, in hopes of experiencing the possibility of successful shoots.
To conclude, these two short films introduced two very different perspectives on the style of documentary photography. It is no longer just a way to see outsiders but a way to express our own inside thoughts and the inspiring moments we wish we could hold onto.
Having read this summer about Goldin and viewing several of her images, it was nice to hear the stories behind her subjects and the relationship she has with them. By hearing these stories, I am also reassured that you can find these meanings and relationships with the subjects without being Goldin and/or without prior knowledge of each characters’ life. For example, I had seen the series about Cookie in the past and felt an attachment or emotion to the images. Now having seen it, I have only gained more of an understanding and connection to these images, a connection that had already existed, yet was reinforced by Goldin’s words. I also thoroughly appreciated learning of the artist’s struggle. Having prior knowledge of her style of living and reasons for leaving her home at such a young age, it was good to hear the details of her recovery in rehab and her style of self-rehabilitation and therapy. This adds further advice to the use of photography as a form of recovery and healing of old wounds. Goldin’s fifteen minutes show great detail of how to interact with emotion in a way of preserving, remembering and documenting the daily actions of all styling of people.
Moriyama presented a different style of documentary photography, a style that I have shown interest in, yet am never able to accomplish. Often, while walking in public, we see people that inspire us, for their beauty, their actions, attitudes, and emotions. I have tried taking photos in the past and often get caught, faced with reactions of stares, glares, and nervous movements. This has steered me away from the act of shooting inspiring strangers. Moriyama does just this, walking from corner to corner, bar to bar, for whole nights to catch the beauty. He works with the idea that they might not even be “photos”, but still mean something to him. The greatest advice from this is that if you carry a simple camera it keeps people from resisting the image. This is something I look forward to doing in the future, in hopes of experiencing the possibility of successful shoots.
To conclude, these two short films introduced two very different perspectives on the style of documentary photography. It is no longer just a way to see outsiders but a way to express our own inside thoughts and the inspiring moments we wish we could hold onto.
What Remains
Sally Mann:
After watching this Sally Mann documentary, “What Remains”, I find myself inspired to continue working on my own topics of choice, now with confidence to pursue tough topics and comfort from an older, wiser photographer and her convictions. Watching another artist talk about her life, inspirations, process, and issues acts as motivation to continue working to where one feels most drawn.
As Mann journeys through her inspirations, we see where she has gone, from start to finish. Starting photography at such a young age, she was able to work on her skills and develop a routine, finally reaching a stage where she was able to take her inspirations and move forward in life. With shaky nerves and fear of failure, it was comforting and reassuring to watch a well-known photographer start with class photos and local work and move further in her career. This is a real life example that photography can take you places, but you must trust the process. Success is not instant but takes time. We watched as she revealed the source of her artistic motivation, her father and current family, revealing things, whether spoken or not, that I have been struggling with exposing in my own art. Mann did not seem self-pitying or self-involved, but conscious of her emotions and their similarity to the past, present, and others around her.
What is most interesting to me concerning the documentary is the section in which she studies the decaying corpses. I, myself, would never be able to face death like that (at least not yet). Observing her close relationships with all of her subjects, dead and alive, Mann chooses to become apart of her landscape and models’ lives, moving in and around the subject matter and never wary of touching something that might make others uncomfortable. The method of her shooting is just as interesting to me as the way she handles her subjects. I have always worked with one type of camera, a 35 mm once owned by my mother. Mann offers visuals of a different style of camera, exposure length, and developing process, operating out of the back of her own van. It adds a new perspective on the act of photographing when learning of other possibilities such as this.
Overall, this documentary was absolutely stunning to me. We did not just hear her history, watch her progression into fame, and see where she is today, we were in her home, hearing her thoughts, watching her shoot, and talking with her family. Whether she said it aloud or not, we, the viewers, watched her discuss the tragedy of losing her father and how she works with that today. I would love nothing more than to see her most recent works involving death, as they seem more related to Sally Mann than the pictures of her children, moving beyond the awe inspiring visuals and into the awe inspiring thoughts of an artist moving through and working with her inspirations.
(side note: ps- Please bring Sally Mann here. She became such an important artist to me after watching this film and I would love nothing more than to get to watch her speak and study her art.)
After watching this Sally Mann documentary, “What Remains”, I find myself inspired to continue working on my own topics of choice, now with confidence to pursue tough topics and comfort from an older, wiser photographer and her convictions. Watching another artist talk about her life, inspirations, process, and issues acts as motivation to continue working to where one feels most drawn.
As Mann journeys through her inspirations, we see where she has gone, from start to finish. Starting photography at such a young age, she was able to work on her skills and develop a routine, finally reaching a stage where she was able to take her inspirations and move forward in life. With shaky nerves and fear of failure, it was comforting and reassuring to watch a well-known photographer start with class photos and local work and move further in her career. This is a real life example that photography can take you places, but you must trust the process. Success is not instant but takes time. We watched as she revealed the source of her artistic motivation, her father and current family, revealing things, whether spoken or not, that I have been struggling with exposing in my own art. Mann did not seem self-pitying or self-involved, but conscious of her emotions and their similarity to the past, present, and others around her.
What is most interesting to me concerning the documentary is the section in which she studies the decaying corpses. I, myself, would never be able to face death like that (at least not yet). Observing her close relationships with all of her subjects, dead and alive, Mann chooses to become apart of her landscape and models’ lives, moving in and around the subject matter and never wary of touching something that might make others uncomfortable. The method of her shooting is just as interesting to me as the way she handles her subjects. I have always worked with one type of camera, a 35 mm once owned by my mother. Mann offers visuals of a different style of camera, exposure length, and developing process, operating out of the back of her own van. It adds a new perspective on the act of photographing when learning of other possibilities such as this.
Overall, this documentary was absolutely stunning to me. We did not just hear her history, watch her progression into fame, and see where she is today, we were in her home, hearing her thoughts, watching her shoot, and talking with her family. Whether she said it aloud or not, we, the viewers, watched her discuss the tragedy of losing her father and how she works with that today. I would love nothing more than to see her most recent works involving death, as they seem more related to Sally Mann than the pictures of her children, moving beyond the awe inspiring visuals and into the awe inspiring thoughts of an artist moving through and working with her inspirations.
(side note: ps- Please bring Sally Mann here. She became such an important artist to me after watching this film and I would love nothing more than to get to watch her speak and study her art.)
Sally Mann
What Remains was very successful in showing insight to Sally Mann's creative process, her influences, and the depth of her work. Her narration was extremely honest, adding greatly to this depth in her work. Seeing her work, both in the darkroom and with her camera, allowed me to see her approach to photography as a very honest way of seeing the world around us.
At first I was not nearly as fond of her series on death as her family images, I did not find them as powerful or as well constructed. However I was fascinated by her including the series of living faces in the midst of death, this presentation changed the mood projected by the death pictures from a morbid consumption of death to the strength of what life can bring to the physical world.
I especially appreciated how she reduced all her subjects, her family, landscapes, or bodies to simple shapes and relationships between tones and movement. Extracting or inserting emotion into these subjects while de-emphasizing physical traits.
At first I was not nearly as fond of her series on death as her family images, I did not find them as powerful or as well constructed. However I was fascinated by her including the series of living faces in the midst of death, this presentation changed the mood projected by the death pictures from a morbid consumption of death to the strength of what life can bring to the physical world.
I especially appreciated how she reduced all her subjects, her family, landscapes, or bodies to simple shapes and relationships between tones and movement. Extracting or inserting emotion into these subjects while de-emphasizing physical traits.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
Sally Mann
I enjoyed watching Sally Mann’s documentary because I felt a connection with a lot of what she said. Her opening statement about photographing the things you love are what makes the photograph the best is so passionate, and is actually something that I tend to do when I am photographing. Mann went on to explain how she see’s the world in images. This is because she can be talking with someone, and all of a sudden she see’s the prospective image worthy scene and through photography you are able to capture that moment and have it not only stored in your mind but also have a visual memory of it.
I fell in love with Mann’s Portrait of Marriage series that she was working on. She was documenting her marriage life through photographs of things that both she and her husband do on a daily base. The images ranged from taking a bath, sexual contact, interacting with their dogs, personal care such as shaving, cutting toe nails etc. I found this find intriguing because when I think of marriage photography, it is usually of the wedding day or perhaps the honeymoon. It’s rare that people tend to photograph their day-to-day lives after their wedding. This can also be linked with Mann’s Death series photographs because once a living person is no longer alive; society tends to associate the dead as something offensive and controversial to photograph. However, I liked how Sally Mann decided to basically challenge society and went ahead with the project by getting up close and personal with corpses, and as a result produced some really dramatic and quite beautiful images.
I fell in love with Mann’s Portrait of Marriage series that she was working on. She was documenting her marriage life through photographs of things that both she and her husband do on a daily base. The images ranged from taking a bath, sexual contact, interacting with their dogs, personal care such as shaving, cutting toe nails etc. I found this find intriguing because when I think of marriage photography, it is usually of the wedding day or perhaps the honeymoon. It’s rare that people tend to photograph their day-to-day lives after their wedding. This can also be linked with Mann’s Death series photographs because once a living person is no longer alive; society tends to associate the dead as something offensive and controversial to photograph. However, I liked how Sally Mann decided to basically challenge society and went ahead with the project by getting up close and personal with corpses, and as a result produced some really dramatic and quite beautiful images.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Sally Mann-What Remains
The video on the life and work of Sally Mann, What Remains, is by far the best art documentary that I’ve ever watched. Throughout the film the viewer get’s a chance to see Mann’s personal experience with photography as well as her series of work on her children and the topic of death. One of the most important messages that Mann get’s across in the film is that the things that are close to you are the thing you’re going to photograph the best. “If you don’t photograph the things you love you won’t make good art.” To me that’s one of the most important things that photographers should realize with their work, especially if you get lost and don’t know what to photograph. In my own work I’ve had to photograph the people that are closest to me whenever I get confused or frustrated with certain themes that just don’t work out, and in the end, photographing my loved ones always turned out satisfactory.
Another point in the film that really caught my attention was Mann’s work with her death series. First off, I love the fact that she’s exploring a topic that most American’s find disgusting and too provocative for the public; it’s like breaking the rules, but with photography. Secondly, I thought it was amazing that she went to the body farm and got a chance to see the natural decay process up-close. The photographs that she took for this series were also really spectacular. There seemed to be a sort of nostalgia within the photographs, almost like the memory of that person was still there and alive. This also relates back to her photographs of civil war battlefields, where thousands of people have died. Mann states that the earth doesn’t care when death occurs, but the artist can come along and make that earth powerful and bring that death’s memory back. This is very true, especially with battlefields and war-ridden lands; a photograph can bring so much energy and nostalgia to the viewer that it makes it almost personal. One last point that I thought was really interesting was when Mann stated that she’s surprised at how many of her photographs actually depend on technical error. This is the concept that I’ve depended on throughout my photography, simply because in the end, those mistakes are one of the things that make those photographs beautiful.
Overall though, I found the film to be really beautiful. I loved how the viewer get’s to see Sally Mann’s personal life and how that greatly influences all of her work. Also, I like how the viewer gets a chance to see Mann work in her environment; taking her large format 8x10 camera out into the field, working with collodion covered glass plates, and even seeing her movable darkroom in her truck. I think she is one of the most beautiful and influential photographers of our time, and I really hope her work inspires and influences students just as much as it inspires me.
Another point in the film that really caught my attention was Mann’s work with her death series. First off, I love the fact that she’s exploring a topic that most American’s find disgusting and too provocative for the public; it’s like breaking the rules, but with photography. Secondly, I thought it was amazing that she went to the body farm and got a chance to see the natural decay process up-close. The photographs that she took for this series were also really spectacular. There seemed to be a sort of nostalgia within the photographs, almost like the memory of that person was still there and alive. This also relates back to her photographs of civil war battlefields, where thousands of people have died. Mann states that the earth doesn’t care when death occurs, but the artist can come along and make that earth powerful and bring that death’s memory back. This is very true, especially with battlefields and war-ridden lands; a photograph can bring so much energy and nostalgia to the viewer that it makes it almost personal. One last point that I thought was really interesting was when Mann stated that she’s surprised at how many of her photographs actually depend on technical error. This is the concept that I’ve depended on throughout my photography, simply because in the end, those mistakes are one of the things that make those photographs beautiful.
Overall though, I found the film to be really beautiful. I loved how the viewer get’s to see Sally Mann’s personal life and how that greatly influences all of her work. Also, I like how the viewer gets a chance to see Mann work in her environment; taking her large format 8x10 camera out into the field, working with collodion covered glass plates, and even seeing her movable darkroom in her truck. I think she is one of the most beautiful and influential photographers of our time, and I really hope her work inspires and influences students just as much as it inspires me.
Image Makers/Image Takers and Sally Mann's What Remains
Here are a couple of quotes from Image Makers/Image Takers that resonated with me as a photographer:
"The key is to photograph your obsessions, whether that's old people's hands or skyscrapers. Think of a blank canvas, because that's what you've got, and then think about what you want to see."
-David LaChapelle
"Diane Arbus said that you just have to choose a subject and keep photographing it for as long as something comes out of it. You always have to use your own fascinations as a starting point."
"I like it when everything is reduced to its essence. You try to get things to reach a climax. A moment of truth."
-both by Rineke Dijstra
I enjoyed these interviews with various photographers, especially since they were all working with different areas of subject matter. The way that Stephen Shoe discussed photography as being his way of language struck me as an interesting point. Communicating more efficiently with pictures rather than words is an idea that I find completely relevant to my own life and work. I especially liked his analogy of the cross-country roadtrip, during which he kept a journal and found that he recorded only factual, documentational information about where they ate, slept, how much money they spent, etc. While the average journaller might naturally want to create more impressional and emotional journal entry recordings, such as subjective views about the days or how they might feel based on occurances during the trip, Stephen Shore found himself solely recording his own collection of the facts of the trip - thus leaving the impressions and changes in emotion and thought to be conveyed through imagery.
A couple of the photographers interviewed in this section of the text emphasize the value in taking pictures based on your fascinations, your obsessions, and what you are drawn to. This kind of "from here to there" process is what I am currently interested in...wandering around with the camera, discovering one thing that might lead to another thing, which of course leads to something entirely new and odd, and definitely interesting. Many of the photographers interviewed here also convey a real sense of deep appreciation for found beauty in unexpected areas. This is something that I am currently dealing with directly, both within and outside of my SMP in photography. My process is as follows: I use the camera as a tool through which I explore a space, discover what I like about certain aspects of the space (formally and conceptually), and then try to think about creating an image that utilizes the space in a slightly abstract way. In a way, I have come to think of my photographic process as resembling a person creating a gesture drawing of something: the mission is to get at the essence of whatever is in front of you, and then start to think about a theme or idea that will fuel the work further, as well as fuel the search for new work.
Sally Mann's incredibly documentary, What Remains was tremendously intersting to me despite the fact that I have already seen it once before. I have previously been very drawn to her Immediate Family series, as is the case with most people who see her work publicly. I'm utterly fascinated with the way that she is able to consistently work with a bulky large format camera in a variety of settings, and consistently be able to produce images that look like they were caught in the moment, almost like an intimate snapshot. However, this time I am more interested in the way that she moves from project to project, and how it seems to me that if you look slightly beyond the surface of the images, that her work has a certain cyclical feel to it. She seems to approach her idea of a photographic mission by spending lots of time thinking about very simple but relatively complex ideas about life, family, landscape, death, decay, rejuvenation, etc. The way that she attempts to comment on change through time is very appealing to me, even though the photographs that I take look visually nothing like the photographs that she produces.
In her Death series, I was quite drawn to the way that she investigated the idea of emptiness within a body that was once full of life, as well as how she became interested in how this kind of lifeless body transforms the landscape of where it lies once it has passed and began the process of decay. While watching this, I was considering how her approach to her photographic endeavors might relate to my own...and I've recognized that there is a certain similar quality of contemplation and slow but thorough investigation present in both of our works. Images often serve multiple functions both as documentation of a particular place or a particular figure (or lifeless figure) in a particular space, and as a visual and emotional expression.
"The key is to photograph your obsessions, whether that's old people's hands or skyscrapers. Think of a blank canvas, because that's what you've got, and then think about what you want to see."
-David LaChapelle
"Diane Arbus said that you just have to choose a subject and keep photographing it for as long as something comes out of it. You always have to use your own fascinations as a starting point."
"I like it when everything is reduced to its essence. You try to get things to reach a climax. A moment of truth."
-both by Rineke Dijstra
I enjoyed these interviews with various photographers, especially since they were all working with different areas of subject matter. The way that Stephen Shoe discussed photography as being his way of language struck me as an interesting point. Communicating more efficiently with pictures rather than words is an idea that I find completely relevant to my own life and work. I especially liked his analogy of the cross-country roadtrip, during which he kept a journal and found that he recorded only factual, documentational information about where they ate, slept, how much money they spent, etc. While the average journaller might naturally want to create more impressional and emotional journal entry recordings, such as subjective views about the days or how they might feel based on occurances during the trip, Stephen Shore found himself solely recording his own collection of the facts of the trip - thus leaving the impressions and changes in emotion and thought to be conveyed through imagery.
A couple of the photographers interviewed in this section of the text emphasize the value in taking pictures based on your fascinations, your obsessions, and what you are drawn to. This kind of "from here to there" process is what I am currently interested in...wandering around with the camera, discovering one thing that might lead to another thing, which of course leads to something entirely new and odd, and definitely interesting. Many of the photographers interviewed here also convey a real sense of deep appreciation for found beauty in unexpected areas. This is something that I am currently dealing with directly, both within and outside of my SMP in photography. My process is as follows: I use the camera as a tool through which I explore a space, discover what I like about certain aspects of the space (formally and conceptually), and then try to think about creating an image that utilizes the space in a slightly abstract way. In a way, I have come to think of my photographic process as resembling a person creating a gesture drawing of something: the mission is to get at the essence of whatever is in front of you, and then start to think about a theme or idea that will fuel the work further, as well as fuel the search for new work.
Sally Mann's incredibly documentary, What Remains was tremendously intersting to me despite the fact that I have already seen it once before. I have previously been very drawn to her Immediate Family series, as is the case with most people who see her work publicly. I'm utterly fascinated with the way that she is able to consistently work with a bulky large format camera in a variety of settings, and consistently be able to produce images that look like they were caught in the moment, almost like an intimate snapshot. However, this time I am more interested in the way that she moves from project to project, and how it seems to me that if you look slightly beyond the surface of the images, that her work has a certain cyclical feel to it. She seems to approach her idea of a photographic mission by spending lots of time thinking about very simple but relatively complex ideas about life, family, landscape, death, decay, rejuvenation, etc. The way that she attempts to comment on change through time is very appealing to me, even though the photographs that I take look visually nothing like the photographs that she produces.
In her Death series, I was quite drawn to the way that she investigated the idea of emptiness within a body that was once full of life, as well as how she became interested in how this kind of lifeless body transforms the landscape of where it lies once it has passed and began the process of decay. While watching this, I was considering how her approach to her photographic endeavors might relate to my own...and I've recognized that there is a certain similar quality of contemplation and slow but thorough investigation present in both of our works. Images often serve multiple functions both as documentation of a particular place or a particular figure (or lifeless figure) in a particular space, and as a visual and emotional expression.
Sally Mann Documentary
This has got to be the fourth time I have seen the Sally Mann documentary and I still find it fascinating. I think that she brings up an interesting point about how we view death. She said something like we are afraid of it and therefore we don't want to see it. I disagree with her slightly in that regard. I feel like most people whether they are of the Western World or not are afraid of death but I think it is that fear that fascinates us with death. Its the decomposition that kind of creeps us out a bit. I thought the scenes that showed her working were very visually informative. It was interesting to see how she used the collodion process to make her some of her prints. The fact that she didn't really care how perfectly they were coated is certainly something I can relate too. I also enjoyed watching her technique. Seeing that she didn't always use an exact timer to make her negatives was intriguing. I couldn't really relate to her idea of having young faces of I think her children? thrown in with a whole bunch of random decaying bodies. That part escaped me. All of the images the that were shown during the documentary were outstanding and inspiring. I think the documentary did a great a job at revealing her personality, as well as her life, work and family. Her father's sculpture was hilarious and that guy running the gallery was an ass for accepting then rejecting her project.
Sally Mann
I like taking pictures of people, especially those close to me, so I liked her theory on knowing what to photograph. Sometimes, I find it difficult to come up with ideas for projects and it is helpful to know that a successful photographer doesn't always have new ideas, but she photographs what she thinks is interesting. If I don't photograph what I want, then I will not take good pictures. If I don't find it interesting, then I cant't take an interesting picture of it. It was cool to see how her interests changed from her children to landscapes and then death. I wonder how my photographic interests will change in the future.
It was also comforting to hear that she feels anxiety about the end of a show and like it is impossible to start taking pictures again because she is worried they won't be as good. Sometimes, I feel like none of the pictures I am taking are any good or that I have run out of ideas. Her advice to start with one picture was very helpful. After I take one picture, it is difficult to put down the camera. If I just keep taking pictures, I will start to see more potential pictures and come up with ideas.
I found the idea that death can change a landscape to be interesting. Usually, when I look at a landscape, I just admire its beauty and I don't think about what has happened on it, unless it is a preserved historic place. When many human deaths have occured in one place, such as a battlefield, the meaning of the landscape changes. It is not just a a natural landscape, but becomes a part of history and a place of remembrance for the people who died. Her series on death conveyed the changes that death causes, both to the land and to the body. They were not just pictures of gross dead things, but they were a beautiful visual record of the processes that begin with death.
It was also comforting to hear that she feels anxiety about the end of a show and like it is impossible to start taking pictures again because she is worried they won't be as good. Sometimes, I feel like none of the pictures I am taking are any good or that I have run out of ideas. Her advice to start with one picture was very helpful. After I take one picture, it is difficult to put down the camera. If I just keep taking pictures, I will start to see more potential pictures and come up with ideas.
I found the idea that death can change a landscape to be interesting. Usually, when I look at a landscape, I just admire its beauty and I don't think about what has happened on it, unless it is a preserved historic place. When many human deaths have occured in one place, such as a battlefield, the meaning of the landscape changes. It is not just a a natural landscape, but becomes a part of history and a place of remembrance for the people who died. Her series on death conveyed the changes that death causes, both to the land and to the body. They were not just pictures of gross dead things, but they were a beautiful visual record of the processes that begin with death.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Sally Mann Documentary
I found the documentary about Sally Mann to be very inspiring. Before watching the film, I had only really known of her work with her children. But obviously, there is a lot more to her than just those early images.
I really like her philosophy on what she decides to photograph - the things that are close to her, and how she tries to make art out of 'the everyday and the ordinary'. I find that I myself like to work with people who I am very familiar with as well - whether I am just taking pictures of my friends when we are hanging out, or I am taking photos for an art project, I always like to work with people that I know very well because there is a sense of comfort that I feel enables me to explore different things and concepts with them that maybe someone who I didn't know at all wouldn't be as willing to do.
It was also quite intriguing to watch the progression of her photographs from her children to landscapes, and then her fixation on death.
Although most people would not think of dead and decaying bodies as ideal subjects to photograph, or even to place themselves around for that matter, I really admire her ability to see what most associate as disgusting, as beautiful. I have always been a firm believer that one can find beauty in everything, and everyone, and Sally Mann definitely exhibits that belief as well.
I found myself extremely attracted to the facial close ups of her children that were a part of her death series. Even though the close ups didn't even capture the entirety of her children's faces, the emotions and expressions in each face really touched me. Coming from someone who first fell in love with art through drawing portraits of women, I find that I am very connected to faces, especially female faces, and the close ups of her daughters really drew me in. They had such characters, such strength, yet at the same time, the closeness to them gave them a delicacy as well.
I like how she said for a lot of her work she was waiting for the 'angel of uncertainty.' Not that she couldn't have produced an amazing piece of art without help from random mistakes happening, but the fact that she allows and accepts random and not always intended things to happen gives her process an organicness to it.
I really like her philosophy on what she decides to photograph - the things that are close to her, and how she tries to make art out of 'the everyday and the ordinary'. I find that I myself like to work with people who I am very familiar with as well - whether I am just taking pictures of my friends when we are hanging out, or I am taking photos for an art project, I always like to work with people that I know very well because there is a sense of comfort that I feel enables me to explore different things and concepts with them that maybe someone who I didn't know at all wouldn't be as willing to do.
It was also quite intriguing to watch the progression of her photographs from her children to landscapes, and then her fixation on death.
Although most people would not think of dead and decaying bodies as ideal subjects to photograph, or even to place themselves around for that matter, I really admire her ability to see what most associate as disgusting, as beautiful. I have always been a firm believer that one can find beauty in everything, and everyone, and Sally Mann definitely exhibits that belief as well.
I found myself extremely attracted to the facial close ups of her children that were a part of her death series. Even though the close ups didn't even capture the entirety of her children's faces, the emotions and expressions in each face really touched me. Coming from someone who first fell in love with art through drawing portraits of women, I find that I am very connected to faces, especially female faces, and the close ups of her daughters really drew me in. They had such characters, such strength, yet at the same time, the closeness to them gave them a delicacy as well.
I like how she said for a lot of her work she was waiting for the 'angel of uncertainty.' Not that she couldn't have produced an amazing piece of art without help from random mistakes happening, but the fact that she allows and accepts random and not always intended things to happen gives her process an organicness to it.
Image Makers, Image Takers
From the reading, taken from the text Image Makers Image Takers, I gained a further understanding of the artists’ missions and the process others go through to create their art. Although I found all of them stunning, enjoying Stephen Shore’s use of color and light, Rineke Dijkstra’s repetitious subject positioning/stance, and David LaChapelle’s humorous, yet stunning color images, the artist I most related with and enjoyed was Mary Ellen Mark.
The first interests I had in photography developed from photographing the world around me, including family, friends, and strange figures. As I have gotten older, the images from National Geographic have become some of my favorite for their raw ability to insight emotion. Mark not only captures images in a documentary fashion, but she does it in a way that appeals to my interests, technically, as a photographer. The artist mentions that she feels that film suits her best, as if she is not done with the hypnotic nature of the developing process and the concentration it asks for. I have always been taught never to crop an image/negative. In her interview, Mark discusses her long running mission to never crop the negative, never allowing her students this ability as well. Mary Mark chooses people to photograph that are interesting due to their faults and differences, something I would enjoy exploring. As she discusses the girl in Turin, she explains that taking these photos of others “disabilities” or “faults” does not make her feel guilty, it makes her look closely, explaining that it is the viewers’ embarrassment and guilt that is projected onto the image, thus making it something taboo. Finally, when asked about her preference for color or black and white, Mark sides on the side of traditional B & W photos, stating “…the abstraction of the black-and-white emphasiz[es] the spirituality of the subject.” I have never been able to understand why, I, an individual naturally drawn to bright colors, would have such an affection for black-and-white photography. This quote has inspired some thoughts of why it may interest me so, opening a window of exploration further into the subject.
This reading was, overall, educational for its various perspectives on photography as a medium. Seeing photographers workings with color, black and white, digital, and film, we are given a number of options for study and interpretation. What I found most interesting, when considering the reading as a whole, was the common agreement that one cannot develop a way of seeing, but that it is natural to the individual, and can be developed and encouraged if it already exists. This notion draws to mind, not question, but curiosity of my own photographic eye, and where it may lead me or how it may develop in the year to come.
The first interests I had in photography developed from photographing the world around me, including family, friends, and strange figures. As I have gotten older, the images from National Geographic have become some of my favorite for their raw ability to insight emotion. Mark not only captures images in a documentary fashion, but she does it in a way that appeals to my interests, technically, as a photographer. The artist mentions that she feels that film suits her best, as if she is not done with the hypnotic nature of the developing process and the concentration it asks for. I have always been taught never to crop an image/negative. In her interview, Mark discusses her long running mission to never crop the negative, never allowing her students this ability as well. Mary Mark chooses people to photograph that are interesting due to their faults and differences, something I would enjoy exploring. As she discusses the girl in Turin, she explains that taking these photos of others “disabilities” or “faults” does not make her feel guilty, it makes her look closely, explaining that it is the viewers’ embarrassment and guilt that is projected onto the image, thus making it something taboo. Finally, when asked about her preference for color or black and white, Mark sides on the side of traditional B & W photos, stating “…the abstraction of the black-and-white emphasiz[es] the spirituality of the subject.” I have never been able to understand why, I, an individual naturally drawn to bright colors, would have such an affection for black-and-white photography. This quote has inspired some thoughts of why it may interest me so, opening a window of exploration further into the subject.
This reading was, overall, educational for its various perspectives on photography as a medium. Seeing photographers workings with color, black and white, digital, and film, we are given a number of options for study and interpretation. What I found most interesting, when considering the reading as a whole, was the common agreement that one cannot develop a way of seeing, but that it is natural to the individual, and can be developed and encouraged if it already exists. This notion draws to mind, not question, but curiosity of my own photographic eye, and where it may lead me or how it may develop in the year to come.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Duane Michals: This is my Proof.
When reviewing various artists for an image that compelled me, I began looking through several different text and image photographers. After several tries, including Jim Goldberg and Shirin Nashat, I came back to an image that I had seen for the first time last year: "This Is My Proof" by Duane Michals. I chose this image because of the work on which I am currently focusing. The images ability to speak of a time that once was, through both text and image, reveals an emotion of the artist that is connective to many different stories. Its soft, sad story, paired with its intimate and loving image, create sympathy, or connection, to the artist over a topic that all can relate to personal experiences: love and loss. As I am currently focusing the attention of my SMP on these two important elements, I find it difficult to over look the similar qualities of Michals' image.
Image Makers, Image Takers Response
I find it very interesting to see how and when each photographer became interested in photography. Some of the artists were at first studying to become painters, like Mary Ellen Mark, and Alec Soth - who once equated himself to Pablo Picasso. Stephen Shore was very interested in chemistry as a young boy and what cultivated his interests in photography was being able to develop family photographs when he received a dark room kit. David LaChapelle knew from the very beginning that he wanted to be an artist, and even after dropping out of high school because he didn't fit in, he finally finished his education at North Carolina School of Arts where he found his calling. Rineke Dijkstra had always loved watching people that interested her, and so when someone finally lent her a camera, she was able to not just watch, but actually photograph these people that had captivated her attention.
I remember the moment when I fell in love with photography as well. In the summer of 2006, I traveled to Colombia to sail in the Central American and Caribbean Games. I was there with a team of other athletes from the Virgin Islands, and on the days that we weren't sailing, we did a lot of traveling and trying to experience as much of Colombia as we could. I remember being frustrated because even though many of the areas that we went through were very poor and the majority of the people that we encountered were homeless, I found myself drawn to them. What frustrated me was that I had one, no way of really interacting with them, and two, no way of documenting my experience and perception them because I didn't have my own camera yet. The next summer, I traveled to Rio de Janiero, Brazil, for the Pan American Games and Cascais, Portugal for ISAF Sailing World Championships and finally had a camera of my own. I was almost more excited to photograph the people, their culture, and the environment than I was to sail in the regattas. Just looking through the lens of that camera made me feel a great sense of self-satisfaction, and ever since then I have not been able to put my camera down.
I remember the moment when I fell in love with photography as well. In the summer of 2006, I traveled to Colombia to sail in the Central American and Caribbean Games. I was there with a team of other athletes from the Virgin Islands, and on the days that we weren't sailing, we did a lot of traveling and trying to experience as much of Colombia as we could. I remember being frustrated because even though many of the areas that we went through were very poor and the majority of the people that we encountered were homeless, I found myself drawn to them. What frustrated me was that I had one, no way of really interacting with them, and two, no way of documenting my experience and perception them because I didn't have my own camera yet. The next summer, I traveled to Rio de Janiero, Brazil, for the Pan American Games and Cascais, Portugal for ISAF Sailing World Championships and finally had a camera of my own. I was almost more excited to photograph the people, their culture, and the environment than I was to sail in the regattas. Just looking through the lens of that camera made me feel a great sense of self-satisfaction, and ever since then I have not been able to put my camera down.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Artists on Editing
Like most photographers if not all, creating a contact sheet(s) and then having to narrow down one’s collection of perhaps 300 photos to just 30 is not only challenging but can also be time consuming. This is because the first edit done today can totally change tomorrow as the artist can discover something new in a discarded photograph that they want to include, or remove a photograph in the second edit.
LaChapelle states his confidence when it comes to editing because he does not “overshoot much any more” (89) and basically knows which of his images he will use in his final edit as he is taking the photograph. In contrast to Stephen Shore who question and “wonder what kind of an editor” (51) is he as he looked back at previous contact sheets, and sees “stuff that never made the initial edit” (ibid). Dijkstra encourages the need of distance “for two weeks… to see properly” (144), like I mentioned earlier about discovering new aesthetics in the picture.
I like Mary Ellen Mark’s method of scanning her first general edit images and enlarging them, placing them side by side to be able to identify and “see which frames are the best” (63). Dijkstra also mentioned using that approach. Alec Soth on the other hand, edits down his hundreds of pictures “into a series [and] in the end it’s about creating a mood” (185).
Therefore, I think editing can also be seen as a very opinionated process, and based on what or how the artist want to present in their final edit selection, I think second opinions can be a beneficial/useful tool consider.
Source: Image Makers Image Takers
LaChapelle states his confidence when it comes to editing because he does not “overshoot much any more” (89) and basically knows which of his images he will use in his final edit as he is taking the photograph. In contrast to Stephen Shore who question and “wonder what kind of an editor” (51) is he as he looked back at previous contact sheets, and sees “stuff that never made the initial edit” (ibid). Dijkstra encourages the need of distance “for two weeks… to see properly” (144), like I mentioned earlier about discovering new aesthetics in the picture.
I like Mary Ellen Mark’s method of scanning her first general edit images and enlarging them, placing them side by side to be able to identify and “see which frames are the best” (63). Dijkstra also mentioned using that approach. Alec Soth on the other hand, edits down his hundreds of pictures “into a series [and] in the end it’s about creating a mood” (185).
Therefore, I think editing can also be seen as a very opinionated process, and based on what or how the artist want to present in their final edit selection, I think second opinions can be a beneficial/useful tool consider.
Source: Image Makers Image Takers
Reading Response 1
I found it interesting that most of the artists said it is not possible to learn a way of seeing. However, they believe that a person with talent can be trained or practice to take good photographs. Mary Ellen Mark said that a way of seeing can't be learned because it is who you are, but you can learn how to be graphically proficient.
Rineke Dijkstra has a different answer to this question. She says everybody can learn a way of seeing and take good photographs if they have passion and photograph what fascinates them. Most of the artists agreed that you should photograph what interests you in order to make great images that stand out.
Everyone has a unique way of seeing the world and this is shown in the pictures we take. What we choose to photograph and why we do it are results of the way we see. Do certain ways of seeing make better photographs and photographers?
Rineke Dijkstra has a different answer to this question. She says everybody can learn a way of seeing and take good photographs if they have passion and photograph what fascinates them. Most of the artists agreed that you should photograph what interests you in order to make great images that stand out.
Everyone has a unique way of seeing the world and this is shown in the pictures we take. What we choose to photograph and why we do it are results of the way we see. Do certain ways of seeing make better photographs and photographers?
Kyle Crapster, Untitled
So, this is actually I picture that a friend of mine, Kyle Crapster, took while backpacking in the Sawtooth National Forest this summer. He's not a famous photographer, but he dabbles, and I do really find this photo to be very interesting. I like the vibrant colors, especially the blues. And I like the way that the image is both trippy yet has a sense of stability all at the same time. The strength and mass and detail of the rock anchor me to the right side of the frame, but then seeing the horizon at such an askew angle kind of spirals me outward and I just get this rush and sense of exhilaration, as if I am there hanging off that cliff and the whole beauty of the world is just going to swallow me up. When I look at this image, I feel both a sense of calm and a sense of danger, which really draws me in.
POST ONE EXAMPLE OF PHOTOGRAPH YOU FIND INTERESTING + WRITE
POST one (1) example of a photograph that you find interesting + write short paragraph to WHY.
DUE Tuesday Sept. 2.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Sally Mann-Untitled # 30
The photo I chose was from Sally Mann and some of her landscape work. This particular piece is called “untitled # 30” taken in 1998. It’s a tea-toned gelatin silver print of a swamp with various tree branches and fog. The black and white photograph was taken from the “deep south” series, which included a number of other landscape photographs. I really liked this photograph because of the serenity and “pure-ness” that surrounds it. Everything is so still and clean in the photograph, that it’s almost hard to tell what it is. Also, the process behind creating the large format photograph is really inspirational. The process is long and difficult and to create such beautiful images really takes time and patience, which you can really see within the photograph. The tonal value behind the work is also really beautiful and has a lot of strong essence to it, which to me gives it a lot of meaning. The photo almost looks like a dream-like landscape; you can even see the vignetting around the top edges, which almost gives the illusion that the viewer is actually there, viewing this foggy landscape in person. Regardless of the fact that it’s just a photograph of a swamp, I really enjoy it. It’s almost nostalgic in a way, which can draw any person into the photograph.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Robert Frank, "Gallup, New Mexico"
This image from Robert Frank's The Americans is entitled "Gallup, New Mexico". It is one of my favorite images for many reasons. I love the composition of the photograph. It seems like it was shot from the hip as if Frank wasn't even using his view finder. The horizon is slanted and the two silhouettes on either side frame the image at odd angles. The only light sources are the dingy florescent lights hanging above. The photograph seems entirely candid. The subjects add an immense level of tension to the photograph. Their outfits and poses are intimidating. I like this photograph because it ignores many of the rules that other photographs follow. The subject(s) are in the middle, the image is skewed, half of it is black, the light source is poor, in the shot and washed out, the focus is soft and the image is grainy. Despite all of this the photograph is amazing. It attracts the attention of the viewer. Because of the silhouettes in the foreground, the image draws you into the picture and into the moment.
John Loengard - Cadet Officers
I chose Cadet Officers by John Loengard. I find this image interesting for many reasons. The lines created by the officers' legs and shadows lead the eye around the photo - not only vertically and horizontally, but diagonally as well. The repetitive and illusionary nature of the subject also captures the viewer's attention. As the officers' legs get farther back in the photo, they appear to be closer together, but a look at the shadows shows that each man is equal distance apart from the others in the entirety of the line. The reason why I find this photograph especially interesting is not for these reasons, but because Loengard captured an image so structured and stationary, but still portrays motion. The officers' left feet are partially off the ground, as if they are about to take another step. The tension is built with the gripping of the officers' hands, and this element is why I find this image so fascinating.
Interesting Photograph
The one reason I really like William Eggleston’s Red Ceiling would have to be the fact that by all means (as with most of Eggleston’s work), it shouldn’t be a great photograph. However when I saw it at the Eggleston exhibit at the Corcoran, there was some indefinable quality that drew me in. It might have been the contrast between the dark super saturated reds and the white wires, or it might have just been the sheer size of the print. Whatever it was that originally attracted me to it, Red Ceiling has stayed with me ever since.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Interesting Photograph
Henry Gray, Arizona, 1970 by William Albert Allard
Allard's photograph interests me because he has captured a portrait and the worries of the subject in one image. The subject and the background are deeply connected and complementary. Allard has chosen to photograph the rancher inside a dark room, instead of outside on the ranch, which is how ranchers are usually shown. Henry Gray looks down at the ground in thought and the darkness and small space of the room echo Gray's expression of despair. Symbols of his way of life surround him, the American flag and the cattle head, suggesting that his livelihood may be in danger. The mirror opens up the small space, but does not offer the viewer any sign of hope for the rancher.
Image Source: The Photography Book, Phaidon, 1997
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Rajasthan - Steve McCurry
Steve McCurry’s 1983 image Dust Storm, Rajasthan taken in India has to be one of my favorite photographs because I like the juxtaposition effect and contradiction it presents. The entire photograph appears to have a sepia color, whilst the Indian women in the center seem to have a very saturated color on them. Moreover, the location of the shot looks isolated and dry because of the leafless tress, the empty water like containers in the foreground, and the dust in the background. In spite of that the women in the middle ground somehow depict life and existence, just by coming together and being there.
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