# 6438-43 / common places-things • porches ~ can I walk and chew gum at the same time?

all photos ~ (embiggenable)

PORCHES IN MY HOME TOWN, a nascent body of work which I hope to complete over the next week or so. I need another 10 photographs to flesh it out.

I should be un-distracted next week inasmuch as the wife is headed off to Washington State to meet up with her 2 besties and marry-she is the presiding “minister” as opposed to becoming a polygamist-one of her high school classmates. I’ll have a lot time on my iPhone picture making button hands, so it should be, barring some sort of severe weather, pretty productive, unless…

frgrnd - a “warm up” assembly / bkgrnd ~ earlier LEGO Succulants assembly

…one of my Bday presents was the LEGO Typewriter kit; 2079 pieces of very intricate assembly. Looking at the instruction book, it might just require a a week or two of my time to complete.

I guess it all comes down to a matter of priorities.

# 6424-27 / common places-things • copy cat ~ the dog days of summer have arrived

ON A RECENT WALK ABOUT IN OLD MONTREAL I made a few pictures that have been added to my art reflects gallery on the WORK page. During that walk about I was quite surprised when I came upon an art gallery window display of a painting that replicates my art reflects work.

Now I know that my art reflects photo book is floating around somewhere in Montreal. However, I don’t know where it is cuz I lost rack of it when it was stolen-I think of that as an act of appreciation-from a hotel lobby in Old Montreal. Consequently, I do not know if the maker of the window reflection art work painting has seen my book-probably not, unless of course, the artist is the one who stole it.

But, in any event, I feel flattered. Cuz, ya know, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

# 6418-23 / common places • common things ~ life as it happened

all photos ~ (embiggenable)

IN THIS ENTRY I’M TAKING A CUE FROM MIKE JOHNSTON AND THE Texas gear nutjob, both of whom laden their sites with lots of personal, non photography data. That written, this entry could be labeled as 24 hrs in the life of me, complete with pictures.

On Monday morning I awoke to a glorious Adirondack summer morning. The cat drew me out to the back porch where sunlight dappled the scene and the air was cool and fresh. I made a picture.

Going back into the house for my morning coffee, I noticed that there was an arrangement in the kitchen sink demanding my attention. I made a picture.

After completing my morning routine, I got in one of our cars-we have 3-and headed off to a doctor’s appointment-a followup to my recent prostrate procedure. Did I mention that I live at least 30 mile from everywhere? Although in this case, I live a 1 1/2 hour car drive from my urologist’s office. It’s a nice ride that includes a midpoint ferry ride across the 6th largest lake in North America. I made a picture.

After being cleared for normal peeing duty, I met the wife for lunch along with a couple from Denver who were in town-Burlington, Vt.-to visit their son who is a clerk for a Vermont Supreme Court-aka: appellate court-judge. I did not make a picture.

Next up, after lunch-no, we did not eat a EL CORJITO, the wife, her from Denver bestie, and I took a walk down Church St.-a pedestrian shopping, dining, entertainment district on the way to where I had parked my car. Along the way, I noticed a bookstore-I really like bookstores-and we went inside where the wife purchased a birthday-it’s 10 days away-present for me; the BOB DYLAN ~ MIXING UP THE MEDICINE book. FYI, she won’t let me read it until my birthday, even though it sits tantalizingly close on the kitchen counter. I made a picture.

Upon leaving the bookstore I notice the EL CORJITO restaurant. I made a picture.

Then it was time for me to head home. The wife stayed behind-she had one of our other cars-to spent the afternoon followed by dinner catching up with her bestie. No pictures that I know of.

Upon arriving home, I made a picture of a tomato I had been wanting to picture. Made my supper. Re-watched Asteroid City. Went to bed. No more pictures.

# 6404-08 / mementos ~ the fog of memory

all photos ~ (embiggenable)

I’M AN OLD GUY, WELL INTO MY 7TH DECADE approaching my 8th. So, I have a lifetime of memories and fortunately my memory is very sound. That written, I have been thinking about memory + photography cuz…

… it has been postulated by serious thinkers-in academia-on the subject that, with the incredible magnitude of photographs being made, photographs are somehow replacing human memory and becoming the memory. Consider this from an essay in the book, A MATTER OF MEMORY ~ Photography As A Object in the Digital Age:

“…photography and memory have been intertwined for so long that their inextricable linkage has become a platitude. Most of us recognize that many of our childhood memories are more likely the result of seeing photographs of ourselves as children than they are actual recollections recovered from the memory centers in our brains….in recent years there has been a surge of interest in the omnipresence of photography and its effect on memory.”

iMo, this concept, re: photography effecting memory, is a bit of an academic dalliance; they gotta have something to do. But, be that as it may, that concept is not much on my mind. What is on my mind is popular idea that photographs preserve memories…

… right from the get-go, let me state for the record that I lean toward the idea that photographs are a fine visual reminder of a moment in the past but, despite their ability to present a picture of that moment complete with a lot of visual detail, they are, at best, an inciter of memories stored in the human brain. However, to be precise, only in the human brain of a viewer who was a participant in that moment. And, the memories that may rise to the fore upon viewing a photograph are, due to the nature of human memory, rather generalized, i.e, vague / “foggy” / imprecise, at best.

On the other hand, consider the photo of me in my pajamas… I know it’s a photo of me cuz the depicted face in the photo looks like the face I have seen in other photos from that time that I know to be photos of me. I can assuredly deduce that the picture was made in the attic-which my father renovated-bedroom cuz of the sloping ceiling line behind me. But, I have no idea who made the photo-probably my father but it could have been taken by my mother or my grandfather (he was an avid amateur photographer)-nor do I have even the vaguest idea the why photo was made. I do know that photo was not made in March 1960-as printed on the border-cuz we were not living in that house in 1960. March’60 was the date the photo was printed and considering the fact that my dad was frugal in his picture making-a roll of film could be in the camera for year or 2-the photo could have been made more than a year or more before that March ‘60 date.

All of written, here’s the thing about that photo…I have absolutely no memory associated with that moment in time. None. Nada. Zip. The image, and in this example also the actual print, is little more than a visual artifact about a past moment in time. It does not cause me to manufacture a memory. It is, primarily, just a picture.

That written, the photograph does, in fact, stir up a memory. Not of the moment but rather of someone not depicted - my father. The instigator of that memory-a memory that is very broad and generalized-is a detail in the photo that only I might notice, the aforementioned slanting ceiling line that testifies to the fact that the photo was make in the bedroom that my father made in our attic that he renovated. However, strangely enough, I have no memory of him renovating the attic.

In any event, all of the above written, I do have many photographs of a past moments in time that incite memories associated with that moment in time. And, to be honest, I have quite a number of photographs of past moments in time that remind me of moments that I might never have thought of if not for the photographic evidence. On the other hand I have far more memories for which there is no photographic evidence other than the pictures in my head: I am primarily a visual thinker after all.

In either case, and in my experience (your experience might vary), memory and the memories associated with them are rather enigmatic / ambiguous / insubstantial. And, iMo / experience, having a highly detailed photograph of a past moment in time does not make a memory any more detailed, memory wise. That is, beyond the detail of the literally depicted visual content. However, that written, what might appear to be an insignificant detail in a photography-think about the ceiling line in the above photo-could, in deed, incite a memory about something / someone / someplace that is not part of that moment.

Ok. I’m starting to ramble on. That’s in part, cuz I am still trying to sort a lot of this stuff out. But part of that sorting out is the 4 “ghosted” photos in this entry. I intend to make a photo book about photography + memory in which all of the photos will be ghosted in order to support my idea that memories-even those incited by highly detailed photos-are rather “foggy”.

# 6897-6900 / common places (not) ~ sneaking my iPhone into the OR

All photos ~ (embiggenable)

THE GENERAL CONSENSUS WHEN I SLIPPED MY iPHONE out from under my sheet and started making pictures in the OR was one of confusion; “what the hell.”, “doesn’t that guy know where he is?” That written, they went about their business and no one asked me if they should smile.

In case you have not figured it out by now, I will make pictures anywhere I can.

# 6891-96 / common places•things ~ some thing small is beter than the same thing big

proposed book spreads ~ all photos (embiggenable)

DON’T HAVE TIME TODAY FOR A LENGTHY entry cuz I’m heading off to the University of Vermont Medical Center for a prostrate reduction procedure. However, I have been giving thought to an idea, re: the medium and its apparatus, which is along the lines of this dictionary definition of a word that denotes a specific form of communication:

work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm

Any want to venture a guess about which word?

# 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.