# 7993-96 / landscape • sink • common things ~ a "trick" of sorts

September 29, 2026

I HAVE PREVIOUSLY WRITTEN THAT, IF I HAD MY druthers for an exhibition of my photographs, there would be a red velvet rope barrier along the gallery walls that would restrict viewers to a print viewing distance that forces them to view the photographs in their entirety. Why do I harbor this never-to-be-realized fantasy? Let’s ask Henri Cartier-Bresson ….

“If a photograph is to communicate its subject in all its intensity, the relationship of form must be rigorously established. Photography implies the recognition of a rhythm in the world of real things …. We look at and perceive a photograph, as we do a painting, in its entirety and all in one glance. In a photograph, composition is the result of a simultaneous coalition, the organic coordination of elements seen by the eye. One does not add composition as though it were an afterthought superimposed on the basic subject material, since it is impossible to separate content from form. ~ Thanks Henri

My translation: if a photographer establishes a relationship of form derived from his/her “recognition of a rhythm in the world of real things”, aka: “the organic coordination of elements seen by the eye”, aka: commonly referred to as composition, the only way in which a viewer can see the result of the photographer’s capture of the organic coordination of elements, aka: form, is to look at and and perceive a photograph in its entirety and all in one glance”.

iMo, and to my eye and sensibilities, exquisite form is what distinguishes great photographs from “merely” good photographs. And, exquisite form can be recognized and extracted from just about any referent in the world of real things.

For instance, consider Shore’s Beverly Boulevard and La Brea Avenue, Los Angeles, California, June 21, 1975 photograph; based upon what is literally depicted, the photograph is just a semi-anonymous picture of a commercial district street replete with a lot of signs. Show this picture to 100 different people and that is all that most would see, and, most would be left wondering why anyone would make a picture like that. However …. there would probably be a few people who see something that is beyond / independent of the literally depicted subject matter–the visual pattern, aka: form, that Shore saw / recognized in an isolated segment–as defined by his framing–of elements in the world of real things.

I believe the “trick” to seeing / recognizing the something beyond the literally depicted subject matter in a photograph is to, literally, ignore the literal subject matter in order to be sensitive to the visual rhythm and pattern of the lines, shapes, colors, values, form to be seen across the flat, 2D plane of a photographic print. Or as Szarkowski put it:

“To see simultaneously both the blue and the sky.”

I also believe that if one can learn to see “simultaneously both the blue and the sky.” in a photographic print, one will also be able use that ability to recognize “rhythm in the world of real things” while making a photograph.

# 7988-92 / landscape • common things • kitchen life ~ peepers

September 26, 2026

SIGNS OF THE IMPENDING ONSET OF THE AUTUMNAL BACCHANALIA of leaf-peeping frenzy are breaking out all over. It won’t be long before our little piece of heaven on earth will be overrun with camera wielding, pretty picture makers taking the 7 trillionth + cliche fall photograph(s).

That written, what is surging to the front of my picture making skull is my seemingly never-ending–I swear I can’t control it– annoyance and irritation with inane utterances re: the photo medium and its apparatus.

item #1: Micheal Johnston’s never-ending dissing of the smartphone as a picture making device. Today’s example:

“I actually kind of wish Smartphone cameras had never become "good enough." The good enough is the enemy of excellent.”

re: “good enough”, aka: Adequate - something acceptable, even if it is not perfect. I call bull shit cuz smartphone photo making capabilities surpassed “good enough” several iterations ago. A fact that any number of photographers toiling in the fine art world–or even snapshot amateurs just screwing around and having fun–realized long ago, my own self included. Most / many gallery directors, photo exhibition jurists, and the general photo viewing public all seem to believe that my photographs are “excellent”, which leads me directly to ….

item #2: re: “the enemy of excellent” - That written, I realize that Johnston, just like most “serious” amateurs, has an understanding that photographic excellence is significantly dependent upon “perfect” technical considerations; max sharpness / resolution, extreme fine detail, max dynamic range, and the like. As a result he/they spend a significant amount of time and energy festering and agonizing over gear. Cuz, ya know, ya can’t take excellent pictures without excellent gear, gear that has “excellent” technical specs, which leads directly to ….

item #3: a response to Johnston’s post from which the above quote was extracted:

“I can't go with the 4/3 sensor size. Not enough dynamic range and not enough detail.”

First, let me write that the idea of “not enough dynamic range / detail” is not a comment one is apt to hear at photo exhibition in a fine art gallery / art institution. Ordinarily, one must go to a camera club gathering in order to hear such inane utterances–as well as the ever popular and insightful query, “What camera do you use?”

That written, let me go out on a limb here and write that extreme dynamic range and lots of detail are, in so many cases, the enemy of excellent. iMo, and to my eye and sensitivities (and I am not alone in this regard), there is nothing more excellent-destroying in a photograph than ultra vibrancy and maximum granular detail–visual characteristics that do not simulate normal human vision. Most photographs that exhibit such characteristics appear to me to be caricatures of the real world–pictures of some thing that exaggerate or distort its prominent physical features or character traits. Proving over and over again that nothing exceeds like excess.

OK. So there you have it. I got that outa my system (for now). But, FYI, just for kicks, I included an Olympus µ4/3 made photograph in this entry. Bet ya can’t tell which one cuz, ya know, both picture making devices are quite “adequate”.

#7980-87 / around the house • kitchen life • common places ~ good eats

September 19, 2026

ANOTHER 24 HOURS AND ANOTHER DOZENS PHOTOGRAPHS some of which are presented in this entry. Give me another day or 2 and I’ll have 20 photographs for a short-form body of work / book.

re: my last entry wherein I offered Sleepy LaBeef’s idea that it ain’t what ya eat, it’’s the way how ya chew it–which metaphorically suggested that vision- the way how you chew it–is the thing that distinguishes one person’s eating form other person’s eating. I might also add that individually unique vision is most often what distinguishes true art from mere documentation, picture making wise. ASIDE a reminder that I believe that vision can not be taught–it can only be discovered / recognized within one’s self. END ASIDE Given that proviso, let’s discuss the idea of what you eat.

One of photography’s most salient characteristics is it’s ability to document, with reasonable accuracy, the real world–people, places, things–at a particular moment in time. And, for most picture makers, from snap shooters to “serious” amateurs, that defining characteristic is their photography raison d‘etre; they all make pictures with people, places, and things as their prime objective. And, by the same token, most viewers of photographs look at / are attracted to such pictures primarily for what is literally depicted.

Consequently, most “serious” amateur photographers in particular strive to photograph the most attractive, dramatic, spectacular and commonly acceptable subject matter available. Additionally, in order to stand out from their peers, they tend to gussy up their photographs with all manner of effects and techniques. And, no surprise, the picture viewing masses –sticking with the chewing schtick– eat it up.

All of that written, suffice it to state that an overwhelming number of picture making / picture viewing people get their photo kicks from the photography medium’s characteristic of literal depiction, i.e. what a picture is of. I have no problem with that other than to write that, if that’s all there is to making pictures–to quote Ricky Nelson–I’d rather drive a truck.

That’s cuz I believe that a photograph can exhibit more than mere documentation; a belief based upon the idea that a photographic print is a thing in and of itself, i.e. a flat 2D surface on which a never ending variety of lines, shapes, colors, tones, space, et al–as seen and photographed as is in isolated segments of the real world–that illustrate a visually interesting / pleasing / captivating / challenging (take your pick or make up your own description) pattern / geometric “arrangement” that is independent of–but intrinsically linked to–the literally depicted what (aka: the literally depicted referent).

In a word, the what I am writing about here is creating visually implied form.

To wit, form that can be seen and recognized from virtually any actual, real world referent. Which is to write that any real world referent / subject matter–the what in a photograph–can be considered as the raw material for creating interesting form. Simply written, the what in a good photograph does not have to be made of the sublime; interesting form can seen and extracted from the commonplace. Any thing every thing is fair game.

As John Szarkowski wrote:

“It must be true that some of us point to more interesting facts, events, circumstances, and configurations than others. [...] The talented practitioner of the new discipline would perform with a special grace, sense of timing, narrative sweep, and wit, 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 enlargement had come from the things pointed to and how much from a pattern created by the pointer.”

Again returning to the eating / chewing schtick, the whole wide world is chock full o’ whats, so keep your eyes wide open and eat it up.

7077-79 / common things • around the house • kitchen life ~ follow Sleepy's advice

September 16, 2026

OVER THE PAST 3-4 DAYS I HAVE MADE QUITE A FEW photographs, some of which are displayed in this entry. If I were to extend the picture making window out to 2-3 weeks, I would have more than enough very good photographs to create what I would describe as a short-form body of work, which is exactly what I intend to do–after which I will create an 8x8 soft cover book entitled RANDOM SIGHTINGS ~ a roving eye.

Or, I could present these 10 photographs in my 10 PHOTOGRAPHS series of books. Although, these photographs, strictly writing, do not conform to the concept of that series–photographs of distinctly different referents linked only by my vision not by a unified theme. However …. these photographs are linked by a similar technique; i.e., visual elements that fall outside the primary zone of focus.

Another linking attribute which is not made obvious visually is the fact that all the photographs, again with the exception of one, were made within a radius of approximately 25 feet. Consequently, they do fit rather neatly into my around the house body of work.

In any event, there is a thought that keeps popping up in my head, picture making department wise; what is it that possesses me to pursue this 10 photograph concept? Hell, I mean that starts with the fact that I can’t even decide at this point whether or not it should be a 20 photograph concept.

But leaving that aside, I am beginning to believe that the overwhelmingly positive and downright enthusiastic response to my an ADIRONDACK Guide book–a book with widely disparate referent content–has taught me to believe that a consistent photograph making vision can create a conjugative relationship amongst a wide variety of seemingly disparate referents. The result being a cohesively cognitive sense of empirical unity.

Consequently, based upon that belief, I am inclined to believe that what I am doing is testing the proposition that a photographer does not have to relentlessly prod the viewer with repeated visual iterations of the same literal referent to get their picturing point across.

iMo, vision is the thing–not only what you see but rather how you picture it. Or as Sleepy LaBeef sang, It ain’t what ya do it’s the way how you do it / It ain’t what ya eat it’s the way how you chew it.

ASIDE I saw Sleepy live so many times I can’t count them all. Always in small venues–blues / rockabilly / “dive” / juke joint bars and taverns. It got to the point that he knew me on sight and we had many beers together. Sleepy was a big man, 6’6”, 250 lbs. I’m a big guy, 6’3” and had to look up at him. FYI, he was called the human jukebox cuz he knew thousands of songs and his performances usually consisted of several hour long, non-stop sets–one song after another, no breaks in between. Insane. Happy feets, do yo stuff-yee ha. Learn more here.

# 7066-70 / around the house • landscape • common things ~ all grown up

September 1, 2026

LATELY I’VE BEEN PULLING OUT PHOTO BOOKS–SPECIFICALLY INDIVIDUAL PHOTOGRAPHER monographs–from my photo books collection. The primary reason for doing so is to get a comparative feel for my book, re: does it have the look and feel–design and content–of other-like photo books? Does it have a book store presence?

I believe that it does. That feeling is backed up by the response of a large regional book store manager who, when viewing my proof book, asked not only how soon could he get it on the shelves but also would I do an in-store book signing event. He even suggested that I should raise my suggested price for the book cuz, in his opinion, it is a very “high quality product”.

Be all of that as it may, my perusing of some photo books from my collection instigated some thoughts on the current state of photography arts; most of the books in my collection were published in the first decade of this century. Many were retrospectives of work created well before that time–1970>late1980s. In fact, many of my most recent purchases of photo books showcase work created in that early era ….

… all of which leads me to wonder if my interest in “fine art” photography is locked into work from the past. Have I reached a stage in life where I have lost touch with “what’s happenin’ now”, photography wise. Or, is it that there ain’t all that much happenin’ that’s opening up new frontiers in the picture making world?

In defense of my idea that I ain’t dead yet, photography wise, there can be no denying that 70s>80s was a time of ground breaking photography revolution; the New Color Photography and the New Topographics movements were the prime instigators of a radically new picture making paradigm–goodbye Ansel Adams, hello Robert Adams / Stephen Shore and company. And, not only did the picture making world change–any-thing / every-thing became legitimate subject matter–but so did what could be hung on gallery walls–goodbye camera club walls, hello MOMA.

That written, am I in the wrong to write that there ain’t much goin’ on that generates a lot of excitement in the photo world? I mean, where/what’s the next big thing, where/who’s the next big name?

I am willing to admit that perhaps I am asking too much of the photo world cuz it is quite arguable that the medium has matured to a point where a truly radical transformation is not possible. Perhaps I should just relax and appreciate the fact that I experienced and came of age, picture making wise, during an exciting period of artistic evolution.

After all, that transformation made possible a recent experience where, when a complete stranger (a 60ish aged woman)–sitting at a bar eating lunch–was handed my an Adirondack Guide photo book by the bartender, she spent a considerable length of time–20-25 minutes–viewing it. After which she turned to me and said, “A great book with really beautiful photographs.”

That encounter was rather amazing inasmuch as her reaction to a book full of straight, somewhat deadpan, pictures of the mundane, commonplace life–places, things, people–in the Adirondacks might not have been possible a couple decades ago. It might have be viewed as amateur, snapshot junk. Apparently, times have changed.

# 7062-65 / common places-things • adk guide ~ seeing not thinking

August 24, 2026

Let’s begin with a CAVEAT: This is entry is NOT intended to be a commentary on the aesthetic quality of the picture-maker’s work. Rather, it is about the manner in which he worked.

I RECENTLY CAME ACROSS A BLOG WITH AN ENTRY titled “The Anatomy Of A Photographic Failure” wherein the author suggests that “showing our failures can be just as important as showing our successful images” cuz “Failures can be used to teach effectively.” an idea that I have no problem with … keeping in mind, of course, that there’s no success like failure but failure is no success at all.

In any event, my take on the entry is that while the author points out a whole host of technique / technical failures with his pictures resulting in that, in his words, “…. they just don’t look pleasing at all to me.”

A statement to which I say, ”No shit Sherlock.”

I mean, how the hell can one expect to respond to a picture making opportunity with spontaneity and feeling when one’s mind is flooded with thoughts technical. To wit ….

I had the Fujifilm X100VI and the wide angle conversion lens, effectively giving me a 28mm field of view. Wider would have been better for some shots. But the 28mm was all I had with me … It was extremely bright outside and relatively poorly lit inside so I know that making a single exposure toward the front of the restaurant would be pushing the dynamic range of the sensor about as far as practical—maybe too far. So, I set bracketing to 5 photos, 1 stop apart. …. I shot handheld, aperture priority with Auto ISO. I used both f/5.6 and f/8. A wider aperture would have been better to reduce the ISO but at the distances I was photographing getting most everything in focus required a deeper depth of field. The interior photos were exposed at ISOs from 250-8000. Also, I set the camera for “Natural Live View” to simulate an optical viewfinder so as to have the best representation of actual dynamic range and best exposure rather than have it artificially modified by a film simulation. I use the Natural Live View feature extensively in all my cameras that have this kind of feature as I get a much better idea of highlight clipping and best exposure settings.

iMo, working within the framework of this mode of thought is akin to trying to master a dance step without listening to the music. So, if there’s a failure to be noted in this “teaching” experience, it is about what not to do–an idea not mentioned in the author’s entry. Or, to quote Edward Weston:

“To consult the rules of composition before making a picture is a little like consulting the law of gravitation before going for a walk.”

A quote in which Weston was strongly implying that artistic vision should feel natural and instinctive, not forced by rigid formulas / techniques, i.e., an artist should focus on seeing the subject strongly and clearly rather than worrying about strict technical guidelines and techniques.

iMo, if one wishes to avoid the “failures” experienced by the author, the lesson to be learned here is not as the author suggests in his entry summary;

“I should have been more prolific with my bracketed shots to ensure a higher level of success in capturing my intended images. Additionally, instead of five exposures, 1 stop apart, I could have tried three exposures 2 stops apart …. to raise my chance of success.”

WRONG. Apparently, the author thinks, as is common amongst many “serious” amateurs, that more and “better” techniques–and dare is write, more and “better” gear–is the path to more picture making success. Ya know, going deeper down the rabbit hole of technique / gear on the road to nowhere. Whereas, iMo+experience, keeping it simple–both gear and an open, receptive mind–is the way to go.

(aesthetic) ADDENDUM: in his entry the author asserts that “Shooting through the scratched plexiglass was a failed experiment.” I disagree. To my eye and sensibilities–disregarding the lousy blend of the bracketing technique–this is a wonderful picture. Or, with proper processing–forget the blending crap–it could be a very visually interesting picture that could hold my attention for a considerable amount of time. And, it’s the “distraction” of the marred plexiglass that is one of the visual highlights that helps separate this picture from mundane documentation–it gives the picture a sense of reality and character. Hell, I might even hang it on my wall.

# 7042-46 / common places • common things ~ the contest that never ends

August 8, 2026

“Photography is a contest between a photographer and the presumptions of approximate and habitual seeing. The contest can be held anywhere …. the number of possibilities is not finite but infinite.” ~ John Szarkowski

“To see something spectacular and recognize it as a photographic possibility is not making a very big leap. But to see something ordinary, something you’d see every day, and recognize it a a photographic possibility––that is what I am interested in.” ~ Stephen Shore

“I am not trying to work with grandeur. I am trying to work with ordinariness …. Ordinary things.” ~ Joel Meyerowitz

My thoughts––and consequent picture making actions––exactly stated.

AT MIDNIGHT TONIGHT I AM OFF TO JERSEY SHORE where I will undoubtedly make some pictures of ordinary life there. Pictures made according to the ideas expressed above––as I have been so doing since I first began making pictures nearly 60 years ago––long before I ever read those words. In fact, long before I ever heard of / knew about Szarkowski, Shore, or Meyerowitz.

# 7031-34 / common places-things • kitchen sink ~ everything all at once

July 27, 2026

iMnsho, one of the best texts ever written about photography–in general but also about color photography specifically–is the intro essay by John Szarkowski in the book William Eggleston’s Guide. I truly believe, without exaggeration, it could easily be a syllabus for a year of photography graduate studies.

I mention Szarkowski’s text cuz yesterday, at a big family / clan gathering (our daughter married into it), I showed my an ADIRONDACK Guide proof book to a respected artist / university art professor (a painter) and one of the many things he liked about the work was my sense of “composition”. His comments brought to my mind something Szarkowski, in his essay, quoted, re: composition–the words of the photographer Robert Adams–which my artist acquaintance sorta mirrored ….

in the act of making photographs…. “the photographer inventories what seems an endless number of angles; he explains, if asked, that he is trying for effective composition, but hesitates to define it. What he means is that a photographer wants form, an unarguably right relationships of shapes, a visual stability in which all components are equally important. The photographer hopes, in brief, to discover a tension so exact that it is peace …. The form the photographer records, though discovered in a split second of literal fact, …. implies an order beyond itself, a landscape into which all fragments, no matter how imperfect, fit perfectly.”

With the exception of “inventories what seems an endless number of angles”–cuz I generally inventory subtle arrangements of a single angle–that quote pretty much describes my picture making M.O., re: “composition”. FYI, I place quotes around the word composition–the act of arranging parts or elements to form a whole–cuz unless a photographer is making a still life, he/she arranges nothing. The best he/she can do is to select a POV that visually organizes the visual elements, perceived as “shapes” of a framed segment of the real world, into a pattern that, to his/her eye and sensibilities, creates “an unarguably right relationships of shapes”, aka: a pleasing / interesting form. An act that Szarkowski describes as “a contest between a photographer and the presumptions of approximate and habitual seeing.”

That written, it should be emphasized that this process of organizing has no “rules”. The playing field on which the “contest” is played is infinitely variable and, consequently, so are the possibilities that might be employed in the engagement*. And, since there are no rules to guide the practitioner, the primary “tools” available to solve the problem are feel and intuition; in my experience, the recognition of the right relationship of shapes is truly “discovered in a split second”, i.e. a photographer just knows it when he sees and feels it. If a photographer thinks about it, iMnsho, that’s a recipe for failure, or at least; a recipe for approximate and habitual seeing.

All that that written, here’s the million dollar question; can this “tool”–feel / intuition–be learned or taught? My life experience, mine that of others with whom I am familiar, lrans me in the direction of “No.” It is something that one either has or does not have"; a “god*”-given gift, if you will, or so the adage goes.

In my case, it took me a long time–most of my life so far–to recognize that, while I have very good eyesight, i.e. being able to perceive depth and distance, aka: my vision, I also have, simultaneously, an ability to “see” shapes–if you will, sprinkled about the landscape–comprised of color, tone, lines, et al. An ability that exists without any, absolutely none, conscious awareness on my part. It just is what is. Asking me to explain it is like asking me to explain why I am 6’3”, 215 lbs. I can’t, other than to paraphrase Popeye, “I am what I am and that’s all that I am.”

This ability allows me to see, as Szarkowski put it, both the blue and the sky.

AN AMUSING ANECDOTE : re: composition. Adams wrote that a photographer “hesitates to explain it.” Szarkowski explains that hesitancy thusly:

When it was pointed out to Eggleston that “the design of most of [his] pictures seemed to radiate from central, circular core … [Eggleston] replied, after a barely perceptible hesitation, that this was true, since the pictures were based compositionally on the Confederate flag–not the asterisk, or the common daisy, or the Dove of the Holy Ghost, but the Confederate flag. The response was presumably improvised and unresponsive, of interest only as an illustration of the lengths to which artists sometimes go to frustrate rational analysis of their work, as though they fear it might prove an antidote to their magic,”

*as I learned in the Army, the “in the field expediency method”

**DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT get me started on the idea of a supreme being hanging around in the prenatal division of creation handing out special gifts to lucky individuals.