# 6988-91 / kitchen life • flora ~ pictures, not words

All photos ~ (embiggenable)

“I always thought good photos were like good jokes. If you have to explain it, it just isn’t that good.” ~ Anonymous

IF IT IS NOT OBVIOUS, LET ME NOTE THAT I RARELY caption or title my photographs, neither on this blog, in my photo books, nor in an exhibition. My primary reason for this omission was, coincidentally, explained in an essay by Lincoln Kirstein in the book Walker Evans ~ American Photographs–a reproduction, page by page / spread by spread–of Evans’ original book as published in 1938:

“The scheme of picture titles [left] only the page numbers as minimal distraction to the images …. Without the title’s immediate juxtaposition to the images, the viewer was obliged to fashion his or her own synopsis of the pictures’ content and form. This was another Evans’ impulse to purge all editorial comment from his work. Even his perfunctory titles were bare notations of place and date.”

I have always believed that, cuz the medium of photography is a visual art, words are not necessary. Some even believe that, if words are necessary, a photograph is a failure. That is a bit extreme but I believe a photograph should stand on its own visual merits. In addition, for what it’s worth, I also believe that “cutesy” captions / titles should be eradicated from the face of the earth.

All of the above written, my photo books and exhibition photographs are nevertheless always accompanied by an artist statement. The statements are written as a rather short and sweet synopsis of my picture making intent. Consider the artist statement for my An Adirondack Survey work:

“My photographs are visual analogues for the quality of my life, a private view of subject matter found in the commonplace realities of the Adirondacks. An Adirondack Survey, created as an engagement of personal vision rather than as a topographic documentary, illustrates my intent to animate, elucidate, and reveal a sense of beautiful strangeness. That is, not predictability (the opposite of cliche), but rather a kind of shock non-recognition hidden in plain sight within the quotidian landscape of the Adirondacks.”

In a very real sense, this statement, with a substitution of the title of any of my bodies of work in place of “An Adirondack Survey”, could be used as the artist statement for any of my bodies of work. I believe that to be true inasmuch as none of my bodies of work, with the exception of my Life Without the APA work, were undertaken to infer / connote any particular social / cultural commentary or intellectual concept; they exist as a simple visual statement from which a viewer may experience any reaction that suits their fancy.

That written, far be it from me to suggest with words what a viewer should experience when viewing my photographs.

# 6979-87 / common places • common things • people ~ 2 fer 1

cover photo -The World At My Feet ~ all photos (embiggenable)

11 YEARS AGO I MADE POD PHOTO book titled The World At My Feet. In hindsight that title was a bit of a misnomer inasmuch as, while my picture making gaze was cast downward, neither my feet nor the ground / floor were integral to the photographs (with 2 exceptions). Retrospect suggests that a more appropriate title should been something like Looking Down, or, Eye Contact Down, or, Downward Gaze.

In any event, during the 11 years since the making of that photo book, I have made hundreds of downward gazing photographs, to include the 5 in this entry which were made over the last 2 days. And then there is the Eyes Downcast gallery on my work which, FYI, has not been updated for a few years. Update coming soon.

To be certain, I have never considered the photographs resulting from my downward gaze M.O. to be a body of work. However, I do believe that now is the time to round up the best of the bunch and make another photo book.

BONUS CONTENT:

all photos (embiggenable)

A TRIP TO NYC IS IN MY VERY NEAR future for the sole purpose of seeing the North American premiere of Constellation, the most comprehensive presentation–454 prints–of work by Diane Arbus. I must admit that I feel that viewing 454 prints replete with Diane Arbus subject content is an intimidating proposition. It might just require a 2-day viewing experience; day 1–a comprehensive walk-through to get a grasp of the scope and tenor of the collection, and, day 2–spend time engaging with some of the more captivating photographs. In any event, it should very interesting.

FYI, over the years I have made a few–very few–Arbus-like photographs. Strangely enough, most are of children. While my photos do not have the Arbus strange weirdness vibe, they are a bit on the quirky side.

# 6948-50 / around the house • kitchen life-sink • common places-things ~ a string of pearls

all photos (embiggenable)

“Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still.” ~ Dorothea Lange

“Taking pictures is savoring life intensely every hundredth of a second.” ~ Marc Riboud

“We are making photographs to understand what our lives mean to us.” ~ Ralph Hattersley

“Your photography is a record of your living, for anyone who really sees.” ~ Paul Strand

BEGINNING WITH THE VERY FIRST PHOTOGRAPH I ever made, I can truthfully write that I never made a photograph–personal as opposed to commercial–that was driven by the desire to convey a meaning. Over time, as I advanced in my pursuit of so-called Fine Art Photography, I pursued my picture making with the belief that photography is a visual art and therefore my picture making objective objective was/is to make photographs that are “interesting”–in some manner or another–to look at / view. Photographs that exhibit what something looks like when photographed in a manner in which I see it.

To be certain, an interesting photograph that incites an emotional reaction / feeling might also, concomitantly, incite word-thoughts which can be expressed verbally. That written, it is a commonly held belief that any emotional and/or word-thought reactions to a photograph are primarily influenced by what the viewer brings to the table– as Sontag wrote … “inexhaustible invitations to deduction, speculation, and fantasy”.

If a viewer of my work were to spectulate that my photographs left them with the meaning that beautiful / interesting form can be found in the most mundane of things, I would respond by stating that I am happy you feel that way.

All the above written, I can write that, re: my eye and sensibilities, I am comfortable with the fact that I know the answer to the question, What is a photograph? However, the question to which I do not have the definitive answer is, Why do I make photographs?

That is not to write that I have never thought about the why of it. In fact, I think about it every time I have to write an artist statement to accompany an exhibit or a photo book. Inevitably, such statements will refer to my attraction to the form I see in the quotidian world; a statement which is true as far as it goes and is almost always appropriate. Nevertheless ….

…. at this point in my life, let’s refer to it as late in life, with multiple thousands of photographs in my photo library, I am wrestling with the idea of; a) what do I do with all the photographs, posterity wise? and b) why have I made so many photographs?

Inasmuch as I have made photos nearly everyday over the last 25 years, it is no surprise that I make a lot of photographs. While some might think this activity is some sort of obsessive behavior, I attribute it to the fact that my eye and sensibilities are very sensitive to / aware of the seemingly everywhere form I see that can be photographically extracted from the everyday world. Inasmuch as I live my life with eyes wide open–literally + figuratively–it is almost like a sensory overload. The potential for picture making is nearly inexhaustible so I make a lot of photographs.

WARNING: Psychological mumbo-jumbo to follow.

Let me try to string together the quotes at the top of this entry…

Inasmuch as Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still, it stands to reason that Taking pictures is savoring life intensely every hundredth of a second. Ya know, kinda like Evans’ delights of seeing; the defining of observation full and felt.

That written, I must confess that, when making a photograph, I can not write that I am savoring life at the picture-making moment inasmuch as I have never been able to stare at a blade of grass and see the secrets of the universe. That’s cuz, in part, time marches on. Fortunately, one of photography’s magic tricks is that it can “stop” time and with the production of a print that depicts that stoppage, the maker of the photograph–and possibly other viewers–can, indeed, savor the moment over and over.

Does anyone make photographs to understand what our lives mean to us? In all probability, some do–or try to–but, I do not. Nevertheless, it is quite possible that, buried deep in my subconscious, I am making photographs to understand / reassure myself that I am still alive. Not that I am clinging to life by a thread by any measure but, it’s a thought, albeit an unconscious one.

As for Strand’s notion that Your photography is a record of your living, for anyone who really sees, I suppose that, at least in my case, that’s true if he meant the word “living” to be a question of what gives a life a sense purpose, significance, and value; in pursuing knowledge, creating art, or experiencing profound moments of awe and connection.

Which is not to write that making photographs is my raison d'être but it is difficult to imagine what my life would be without it.

# 6941-46 / landscape • common places-things ~ home sweet home

all photos (embiggenable)

“The photographer’s act is to see the outside world precisely, with intelligence as well as sensuous insight. This act of seeing sharpens the eye to an unprecedented acuteness. He often sees swiftly an entire scene that most people would pass by unnoticed.” ~ Berenice Abbott

ON MONDAY PAST I DROVE TO THE GROCERY STORE. THE photographs in this entry are some of things I saw along the way.

It should come as no surprise that, living as I do in the Adirondack Forest Preserve*–aka: the Adirondack PARK–I have made thousands of photographs of the landscape. Inasmuch as the Adirondack Forest Preserve–larger than the State of Vermont–is a mix of private and public land–public land is enshrined / protected in the NY State Constitution as forever world–my photographs of the place are a mixture of the “pure” nature world and scenes with evidence of humankind.

This M.O. stands in direct contrast with the predominance of Adirondack picture making which emphasizes the landscape–featuring high peaks and large lakes–bathed in golden / dramatic light with absolutely no evidence of the hand of man. A school of landscape picture making that I call pretty calendar art. Which is not to write that the Adirondack landscape does not, on occasion, offer up some amazing Hudson River School-like apparitions. However, that written, the preponderance of daily life here in the Adirondacks is not a continuous stream of golden picture making moments.

That being the case, I prefer to photograph the landscape that most people would pass by unnoticed. Actually, the word “prefer” should, more accurately, be replaced by drawn or compelled. That cuz, photographing the landscape that most would pass by unnoticed is, quite honestly, what interests me the most. It is, in fact, the backdrop to my daily life and it has always been my belief that, if you can not embrace the everyday, what is the point of life / living?

But wait, I am not suggesting that I am, in the making of my photographs, advocating for the embrace of daily life. Some viewers of my work might glean a hint of that concept but, to be perfectly clear, the impulse that drives my picture making is that I like making and viewing photographs that exhibit a lot of visual energy, Consequently, I am drawn to referents that are chock full o’ visual information / detail and the Adirondack landscape delivers that in plentiful abundance.

Simply written, I have always thought that the standard picture making advice of simplify, simplify was a lot of malarkey. I mean, come on, are we to assume that those who view photographs are so simpleminded that our photographs must be dumbed down to the point that a kindergartener can “understand” them? Of course, on the other, the way I look at it (pun intended) is that there is very little to actually understand when looking at a photograph. It is a visual exercise not a intellectual one. Or, as Berenice Abbott wrote:

“People say they need to express their emotions. I’m sick of that. Photography doesn’t teach you to express your emotions, it teaches you to see.”

LINK > Sometimes it really pays off to photograph what interests you.

*FYI, there are approximately 100K permanent residents–spread out in 101 small towns and villages–in the Adirondacks. On the other hand, it hosts approximately 12 million visitors a year. The “park” is the largest publicly protected area in the contiguous United States, greater in size than Yellowstone, Everglades, Glacier, and Grand Canyon National Park combined.

# 6936-40 / common places-things ~ Viva la difference

all photos ~ (embiggenable)

“I like ambiguity in a photograph. I like it when one is not certain of what one sees. When we do not know why the photographer has taken a picture, and when we do not know why [when] we are looking at it, all of a sudden, we discover something that we start seeing. I like this confusion.” ~ Saul Leiter

TAKE A MOMENT AND CONSIDER THE WORD ambiguity. Various dictionaries define in word in much the same way; a situation in which something has more than one possible meaning and may therefore cause confusion….the possibility of interpreting an expression in two or more distinct ways. All of the dictionary definitions of the word are, coincidentally, un-ambiguous.

re: “ambiguity in a photograph”: in a very real sense, all photographs are ambiguous inasmuch as it rather difficult, if not impossible, to impose / imbue a single, exact meaning in a photograph that will be interpreted by every viewer in exactly the same manner. In that regard I am in the same boat as Susan Sontag:

“Photographs, which cannot themselves explain anything, are inexhaustible invitations to deduction, speculation, and fantasy…. while photographs capture a specific moment, they don't provide the full context or explanation…”

There are those photographers who, in an attempt to eliminate any ambiguity–re: what their photograph(s) are about, try to make excruciatingly obvious what they are trying to convey. The worst offenders are usually nature / landscape photographers who generally imply a single meaning–ain’t nature grand. iMo, photographs that try to force / ram–down–one’s_throat a single meaning on their viewers are the worst photographs on the planet….most often, simple meaning for simple minds.

The best photographs?, you might ask. Consider this:

“I think about photographs as being full, or empty. You picture something in a frame and it's got lots of accounting going on in it--stones and buildings and trees and air--but that's not what fills up a frame. You fill up the frame with feelings, energy, discovery, and risk, and leave room enough for someone else to get in there.” ~ Joel Meyerowitz

iMo, if you want to “leave room enough for someone else to get in there” when making a photograph, be ambiguous. In a very real sense, create and cultivate curiosity.

In my picture making, I depict the form I see as found on the picture-making canvas of the quotidian world. That M.O. most often mystifies many viewers of my photographs as often attested to by the frequent comment, “Why did you–or, why would you–take a picture of that?” ASIDE the same question could be directed at Saul Leiter and his photographs in the book Colors END SIDE. The only answer I can give to that question is that “I have left enough room in the picture for you get in there and discover what the picture is about. And, hint, it is not about ‘that’.”

Some questioning viewers might eventually “get” what the photograph is about if I go on to explain that the photograph is about a visual sense of form I see when I impose a frame on a section of the real world. Others may not. What I hope some viewers might “learn” is that I see the world in a manner, most likely, different from how they see the world. And, projecting outward from that realization, that other photographers might also see the world in a different manner than they do–or, for that matter, different than I do. Perhaps they might even realize that that is what makes the world go ‘round, re: good photography wise.

So, all of the above written, like Leiter, I’m all in ambiguity / confusion wise. That is to write, in both my photographs and those made by others. And, I am especially pleased that there are photographers–to include many of the greats–with whom I share similar sensibilities but who, nevertheless, see the world in their own particular way.

# 6927-35 / travel • the new snapshot ~ baseballism

all photos ~ (embiggenable)

APPROXIMATELY 200 MILES DOWN-STATE FROM MY domicile is the quaint village–1.9 sq mile / pop. 1,800–of Cooperstown. The wife and I spent 4 days there–Saturday last > this Tuesday–her for a conference, me in pursuit of pure relaxation and entertainment.

FYI, Cooperstown is where, in 1839 the game of baseball was reputedly invented by Abner Doubleday–not true but the myth has endured–and it is also the home of the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum. The village sits at the foot of Otsego Lake and, within its confines, there is nary a chain hotel, fast-food restaurant, or store. The 2-block Main Street shopping area is lined, almost exclusively, with shops offering a wide variety of everything baseball and handful of casual to fine dining establishments.

The village draws 300.000 visitors a year. The obvious draw is the Baseball Hall of Fame but I have not visited it in over 30 years, despite visiting Cooperstown every year for the past 6-7 years (the wife’s conference thing). The draw for me is; a) a premier golf course in town on the lake, b) the tiniest diner in the world–breakfast every morning, and, c) the Fenimore Art Museum.

If you thought this entry was going to be a travel log kinda thing, think again cuz, other than posting more of my travel pictures that I try to make look not like travel pictures, here comes the photography stuff….

The Fenimore Art Museum is an amazing institution. In a nutshell, the museum is dedicated to, in their words, “telling a remarkable range of American stories” with its fine art collection, folk art collection, American Indian art collection, and, the photography collection which illustrates the entire history of photography in the United States, from early daguerreotypes to contemporary photographers.

The museum’s commitment to photography is impressive. They mount very impressive exhibitions in a massive gallery devoted to photography. In past visits to the museum I have viewed a number of exhibitions, most recently an impressive Herb Ritts portraits exhibition. This year’s exhibition, which I missed on this trip cuz it don’t start ‘til this coming Sunday, is The Power of Photograph: 19th-20th Century Original Master Prints.

The exhibition is a selection of 120 iconic images–along with quotes from the photographers–by 120 different photographers curated by pioneering collector and gallerist Peter Fetterman. While at the museum on this trip, I purchased the book of the same name. It is beautifully printed and is a great value at $45.00US. Highly recommended.

I will be visiting Cooperstown in the very near future to see the exhibition and play a littel golf.

the diner

# 6920-22/ landscape • around the house • common places-things ~ a bug-ike immersion in the quotidian world

all photos ~ (embiggenable)

WHILE READING AN ESSAY IN THE BOOK, FRED HERZOG • MODERN COLOR, I came across an interesting concept:

In 1962m Manny Farber (film critic) distinguished between what he called “termite art” and “white elephant art.”. Termite artists get on with their art with little regard for posterity or critical affirmation. They are “ornery, wasteful, stubbornly self-involved, doing go for-broke-art and not caring what becomes of it.” They have a “bug-like immersion in a small area without point or aim, and, overall, concentrating on nailing down one moment without glamorizing it, but forgetting this accomplishment as soon as it has been passed: the feeling that all is expendable, that it can be chopped up and flung down in a different arrangement without ruin.” On the other hand, “white elephant art” is made in the self-conscious pursuit of transcendent greatness and in the channels where greatness is conventionally noticed. The white elephant artist is likely to “pin the viewer to the wall and slug him with wet towels of artiness and significance.” We need not choose between these two. Great work can be made by either, and history suggests that this is perhaps more true of photography than any other medium.

After reading this, I believe that I am a termite artist and, btw, the wife thinks that I am ornery.

# 6916-19 / kitchen sink • around the house • common things ~ responsibilities

all photos (embiggenable)

“Anything and all things are photographable. A photograph can only look like how the camera saw what was photographed. Or, how the camera saw the piece of time and space is responsible for how the photograph looks. Therefore, a photograph can look any way. Or, there's no way a photograph has to look (beyond being an illusion of a literal description). Or, there are no external or abstract or preconceived rules of design that can apply to still photographs. I like to think of photographing as a two-way act of respect. Respect for the medium, by letting it do what it does best, describe. And respect for the subject, by describing as it is. A photograph must be responsible to both.” ~ Garry Winogrand

I AM CURRENTLY PUTTING A PHOTO-BOOK together with the title, describing it as it is ~ there’s no way a photograph has to look. The book will contain 40 photographs of a wide range of referent material, more commonly known as my discursive promiscuity work.

If the book comes together as I believe it will, I will also make a handful of zines––of the same work––that I will offer for sale here on the blog. The zines will be much less expensive to produce than a hardbound book and can therefore be sold at a very reasonable price.

BTW, this project is also causing me to think that it is well past time for a total rebuild of the work displayed on my homepage and how it is presented.