# 6882-90 / common places-things ~ I don't need no stinkin' sequences

all photos ~ (embiggenable)

IN AN ARTICLE ABOUT MOMA CURATORS OF PHOTOGRAPHY, it was written that:

“…Szarkowski’s innovative approach to exhibition design focused on the interplay between individual images and their collective impact as a series … He emphasised the importance of sequencing and presentation in the way that photographs are displayed, which shaped the way we think about photography today.”

Re: “interplay between individual images” / “impact as a series” / “sequencing and presentation” …

… I have viewed-in person-a pretty fair number of photography exhibitions (100+?) and I have a decent collection of photo books. The majority of those books and exhibitions-in galleries, museums, art centers, et al-have been solo exhibitions or monographs. That is, featuring the work of a single photographer and nearly always presented as a singular photographic “style” / genre, or, themed by referent. And, to be more precise, I tend to view only exhibits that would be classified (by most) as fine art photography; i.e. artistic expression, rather than documentary or journalistic representation.

Suffice it to write that most of those exhibitions / books have emphasized the collective impact of a series of like-minded photographs. I can not attest to how much effort was put into the sequencing of the photographs in those exhibitions / books inasmuch as, to my eye and sensibilities, much fine art photography-non document / journalistic-is not trying to tell a story but rather to create a feeling.

All of that written, I am working on putting together a book of my photographs which is based / organized under banner of good photographs. In this case “good” is defined as photographs that are visually engaging and interesting to view; the engagement and interest created, not by what is pictured (a real-world referent) but rather by how it is pictured (how I see it, aka: my vision). Needless to write, as a result of my discursive promiscuity manner of making photographs, I do not limit my picture making to a single given referent.

Which is not to write that narrowly focused referent themed bodies of work do not, over time, emerge from my cumulative body of work. I have, at last count, a dozen or so bodies of work based upon singular referents; my kitchen sink work as an example. And, I have individual photo books that illustrate each body of work. But…

… here’s the interesting thing I have come to realize - while viewers like-in a book or on a gallery wall-those various bodies of work, the books that viewers seem to like the best are the couple year-in-review photo books I have made. That is, books that are a collection of what I consider to be good photographs, regardless of the depicted real world referents, made during a given calendar year.

The photographs in those books are not trying to tell a story. Nor are they presented in referent-related sequences or chronological order. Most photographs are in color but a BW photograph might pop up here and there. And, while I am known for making square format pictures, suffice it to write, don’t try to pin me down on that.

If there is a unifying aspect to these year-in-review photographs, it is simply that they are all straight photographs. That is to write that there is no technical wizardry, special equipment, or art sauce applied. I just make pictures of what I see.

I am delighted that so many viewers of my discursive promiscuity photographs, as presented in my year-in-review photo books, do experience a collective, although often indescribable, impact from their viewing of my work. This reaction, despite the fact that I am disregarding, flaunting if you will, the conventional / traditional wisdom(s) of interplay between individual images, the importance of sequencing in the way photographs are displayed / presented, and the emphasis upon single subject bodies of work. Attributes to which I pay scant, if any, attention.

Apparently, or, at least to me, it seems that some people are capable of moving from one seemingly unrelated picture to another-in a book or exhibition-and, nevertheless, come away at the end of it all feeling that they have experienced a unified whole.