all photos ~ (embiggenable)
“One might compare the art of photography to act of pointing … The talented practitioner of the new discipline would perform with a special grace …. thus endowing the act not merely with intelligence, but with that quality of formal rigor that identifies a work of art, so that we would be uncertain, when remembering the adventure of the tour, how much our pleasure and sense of enlightenment had come from the things pointed to and how much from the pattern created by the pointer.” ~ John Szarkowski
“Photographers have to impose order, bring structure to what they photograph …. A photograph without structure is like a sentence without grammar.” ~ Stephen Shore
I AM TEMPTED TO ADD THIS ENTRY TO MY “STUPID” series of entries but, in fact, the ideas–expressed by Mike Johnston in a recent post–critiqued here–are not stupid, per se. Rather, they fall under the moniker of the “miss-guided eye of the beholder” or other words to that effect ….
…. in an entry about a photograph by Ricardo Silva Cordiero, a photograph that Johnston quite obviously very much liked, Johnston went on a word spree in an attempt to express his viewing experience. In doing so, he made, iMo and to my eye and sensibilities, 2 “mistakes”–both of which fall under the colossal mistake of trying to describe a photograph with words which is, iMo, a fools errand;
1) his first read–his words–was “what was going on with the guy in the middle?” Why, you might wonder, is this a mistake? Well, OK, perhaps calling it a mistake is not exactly correct, but, here’s my point; that reaction is exactly the one you would expect from viewers–most likely the majority thereof–whose primarily concern is to ascertain what a photograph is of, aka: its literally depicted referent.
As a result of that first read, he felt compelled to “parse”–again, his words– or “resolve” the issue of what was going on with the guy”. All of which leads more senseless words about literal details that lead him to conclude that the guy is a delivery guy of one sort or another. Whew (said while swiping the sweat from my brow), thank goodness that’s resolved.
2) After his herculean parsing effort–he even goes to some effort to determine what the name on “the guy(‘s)” delivery bag means–he then turns his attention to the structure of the photograph. An endeavor wherein he indulges in a spectacular display of self-contradiction:
“….. dissecting compositional elements isn't normally necessary, and has a faint air of dull plodding about it. But this one's particularly nice, so here are a few things to notice.”
After making this statement , he goes on to create a veritable laundry list–dare I write, ”a faint air of dull plodding” –a litany of obvious, literal visual elements as seen in the photograph. Gee, thanks for pointing out the obvious cuz I never would have noticed that stuff without your help. Again, what one would expect from a viewer whose primarily concern is to ascertain what a photograph is of, aka: its literally depicted referent.
FULL STOP let me be perfectly clear about the preceding commentary; I am not, sarcasm aside, ripping on Mike Johnston. Rather, I am using his commentary on a photograph to illustrate the difference between photographers who make pictures of things–aka: decorative art–from those who make pictures from things–aka: fine art END FULL STOP
To my point, consider this (bold emphasis added):
“These were also usually pictures made of, rather than from something, to use a distinction I like to make. That is, if you're curious what a particular High Street looked like in 1936, a photograph of it is perfect, the more documentary the better …. If OTOH you were looking for an expressive, wall-worthy artwork then both you and the photographer will have been working to a different set of expectations, and the fact that it was made in (from / out of) that particular High Street is probably irrelevant.” ~ Mike Chisholm from his blog: IDIOTIC HAT (highly recommended)
RE: my take on the photograph in question….
My initial reaction–I do not “read” photographs–to encountering this photo was the sensation of experiencing a sharp poke to my visual senses‘s funny bone; a pleasurable tingle to my optic nerve, if you will… YIKES!…a sensation that signaled the onset of an eyes-born St. Vitus Dance–originating from the centrally located dark form and then skittering all across the flat field of the image, pin-balling off its hard edges and dancing amongst the cacophony of lines, shapes, form, and tone that inhabit the space…YEE-HAW, ride ‘em cowboy!…I really do enjoy it when my eyes dance.
…all of this happened in, seemingly, a fraction of a second after which my verbal brain kicked into focus and I recognized what it was a photo of– a street scene replete with everyday, albeit nothing special, human activity. Although, damn, that guy in the center of the photo is staring (menacingly?) right at me…a literal visual element that creates a figurative hook that draws the viewer into the photo. And, if ya wanna get all art-speaky about the photo, I am reasonably certain that an academic could write a zillion-teen words–employing that visual hook as a metaphor–on the medium’s relationship between seer and seen.
All of that written and iMo, I believe the photograph is a very fine example of the street photography genre. One that earns a wall-worthy designation inasmuch as the photographer, with his selection of visual elements–aka: the elements of art–extracted from the quotidian world, he has imbued the photograph with a quality of rigor–its imposed order–that identifies it as a work of art, transcending its pedestrian application as mere documentation.