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

June 3, 2025

“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.

# 6947 / photo-based illustration ~ narcissistic navel gazing

June 1, 2025

***cover illustration*** ~ Executive Report magazine (embiggenable)

***illustration for article about the University of Pittsburgh School of Dental Medicine ~*** (embiggenable)

”....it's been quite some time since I read an artist speak so eloquently and clearly about the world beyond his/(her) own asshole.” ~ Bill Jay

Re: speaking beyond of his(her) own asshole:

In my project “Far From” I want to make visible what landscape photography can look like for a female photographer with child rearing responsibilities. I combine landscape photographs of the American West with embroidery to challenge the masculinity of traditional landscape photography and the myth of the West. Landscape photography was traditionally dominated by male photographers as it was deemed unsafe and impractical for women who were constrained to the domestic sphere, close to their housekeeping and child rearing duties …. I am drawing on the history of embroidery as both a symbol of female submission and a weapon of resistance for women, and overlaying that to the masculinity of landscape photography and the American West.

AS I HAVE WRITTEN MANY TIMES, I HAVE LITTLE, if any regard for the photographs made by adherents to the Academic Lunatic Fringe crowd, i.e., those whose picture making is driven by obsessive narcissistic navel gazing, and the like. The navel gazing is most often about attempting to make a photograph that expresses some deep personal angst, emotional distress, obsession with a social cause and the like.

If that’s your picture making thing, have at it. However, iMo, the resultant photographs fail on 2 counts; a) they are not very interesting / pleasing to look at, and, b) they require a zillion word artspeak essay that attempts to explain what it is that the viewer is looking at.

The narcissistic navel gazing artist statement example in this entry is a case in point. Right from the get-go it states that the photographer had a desire to make visible what landscape photography can look like for a female photographer with child rearing responsibilities. Say what? I mean, does a female photographer with child rearing responsibilities make photographs that differ from those made by a female photographer with business responsibilities. How about a female photographer with commercial aviation responsibilities, or…. etc. etc. etc.?

And I won’t even get started, re: the masculinity of traditional landscape photography or the wacky idea of embroidery as both a symbol of female submission and a weapon of resistance for women. But, then again, say what? Can anyone find me a woman who was deterred from making landscape photos cuz the genre was dominated by male photographers and subsequently decided to take up embroidery as a weapon against…what?…misogyny? Somehow I have a problem with envisioning a group of angry female wanna-be landscape photographers, now “constrained” to embroidery, confronting a group of male landscape photographers while holding up their work efforts and screaming, “Take that you bastards!”

I could go on but I won’t. Let me just write that this example of artspeak-driven, narcissistic navel gazing, ALF folderol is spot-on typical of the ALF genre. iMo, their #1 problem is that they are attempting to photograph something–an idea–that can not be photographed. However…

…. do not misunderstand my rant. I am not suggesting that a visual element in a photograph, or an the entirety of a photograph can not have a symbolic meaning, I offer as evidence my photo-based illustrations in this entry. The assignment for a magazine cover was to create a picture for an issue about the revitalization of the Pittsburgh “rustbelt”–a term referring to a region in the United States that experienced a major decline in manufacturing and industrial activity in the late 20th century, resulting in economic hardship, job losses and where industries like steel, coal, and automotive production were once dominant.

I don’t think that it requires a PHD in art / photography studies to figure out that, under the cover heading of “Revitalizing the Rustbelt”, the rusted iron objects were symbolic devices, that the wilted flowers represent the demise of the steel industry, that the drawn lines and angles suggest something other than heavy industrial occupations, and that it was not an ad for new home accessories outlet.

The non-literal dental image assignment was made in an effort to suggest / imply the idea of “dental” in a more visually captivating manner than a “straight” photograph would be.

FYI, the Rustbelt photo-based image is a Polaroid Image Transfer on fine art non-photographic paper. Some hand coloring was added–primarily on the flowers–along with the ink-drawn lines and arrows.

The Dental photo-based illustration is an SX70 film, manipulated emulsion image.

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

May 28, 2025

“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

May 25, 2025

“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

May 22, 2025

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.

# 6923-26 / common places-things ~ I really like fried chicken

May 16, 2025

BACKGROUND: Last entry I mentioned the book, FRED HERZOG ~ MODERN COLOR. If you have not heard of Fred Herzog, you have not heard of the photographer who is considered to be the first practitioner-beginning in 1953-of street photography, in color no less. I purchased the book a week ago and, without exaggeration, I was struck to the ground by Herzog’s work. The book is at the top of my if-you-only-have-1-photo-book, this is the one to have.

THAT BACKGROUND WRITTEN, THE BOOK MENTIONED really helped clarify, for me, what it is that I see when I view a photograph that captures my interest and attention. That is, to be more accurate, the book and an experience I had showing some of Herzog’s photographs to my best friend, Robert.

Robert is attuned to art and the art world. Having spent most of his adult life living in Manhattan, he regularly visited many art museums and venues with a bit of an emphasis on photography (driven by me). Rarely was there a visit to Manhattan during which we did not go to photo galleries or see a museum-based exhibition. So, after I “discovered” Herzog, I was rather eager to share the work with him.

A couple days ago, at our weekly go-out-to-lunch date–he is retired and now lives about 10 miles away from my house–I was showing him some of Herzog’s photographs, especially those that really stuck me to the ground, I gradually became aware that what he was seeing at first glance was completely different from what I saw at first glance and that difference was not subtle…

…all he saw was the literally depicted referent and attendant literal detail. What I saw was the form exhibited in the photographs–that is to write that what was literally depicted was so inconsequential to my eye as to be nearly “invisible”.

As an example, consider Man With Bandage-

This photograph seems to have depth, lots of stuff receding to infinity. That is exactly how Robert saw it, declaring the picture had a lot of depth. To which I responded, “No it doesn’t. It’s flat as a pancake.” I pointed out that the photograph was a flat, 2D thing, as in, ya know, paper thin. Unable to deny that physical reality, we agreed to agree that the photograph exhibited the illusion of depth, an agreement that I considered to be an aesthetic victory.

At this point we got down to visual basics; he pointed out that he could see that the man, woman, and mailbox were lined up one behind the other. What I countered with was that, on the surface of the print, I saw 3 shapes next to one another. He came back at me with the all of the various lines in the picture leading his eyes to infinity. Be that as may how he saw it, what I saw was a number of straight and/or angled lines “dancing” across the surface of the print. He mentioned that he thought the picture colorful, the red mailbox especially so. On the other hand, I was whelmed–neither over or under–by the integrated field of relatively neutral grey-ish colors of the street, sidewalk, building to the left, woman’s coat, man’s pants, from which the relatively few more vibrant colors–especially the reds–scattered across the surface of the print emerge.

All of that written, here’s my point; Robert sees a street scene with much to offer the eye in a very literal sense. His eye can spend a great deal of time picking out / noticing–and I might add, enjoying–the numerous details depicted in the scene. It seems to me that he enjoys finding and gathering information rather than sensations. It is worth pointing out that this photograph along with many more–95% of the photographs in the book were made in Vancouver, CA–suggested to his sensibilities that the city was not a very prosperous place.

On the other hand, what I see, first and foremost, is an exquisite display of visual form–an organization of line, shape, color, tone, space , value–which draws my eye and sensibilities like bees to a honeypot. When, after I assimilate the form factor, I also see a photograph that can hold my eye and sensibilities in a literal sense, I know that I am seeing something special. Realizing that are many more Herzog photographs to view, I need to ask myself the question, “How much fried chicken can I eat?”

From what I have subsequently read since I discovered Herzog it seems to indicate that he did not have a particular axe to grind in the making of his photographs. It would also seem, deduced from some of his own words, that he was out and about “just” to enjoy, in the Walker Evans’ idea, the…

“capture and projection of the delights of seeing … the defining of observation full and felt.”

I would assume that Herzog was enjoying his picture making inasmuch as he toiled in almost total obscurity for the better part of 40 years, seeking neither fame or fortune from his work. Consider for a moment that he began his picture making endeavor in 1953 but did not sell a single print until 1970.

Re: no axe to grind - Herzog did admit to attraction and a certain affection for the quotidian vernacular of both the period’s architecture as well as the people who populated it. He also had also expressed a certain sadness(?) / regret(?) that what he had photographed had disappeared only to be replaced with a soul-less modern glass and steel environment. iMo, Herzog’s attraction and affection is evident in his photographs; his vision exhibits subtle and gentle observation. His work is very much in the mode of André Kertész who captured a vanishing vernacular Paris.

In any event, and all of that written, I can write that I do not have many regrets in life in photography. Nevertheless, I now have one regret that tops them all; the fact that I probably will never have the chance to see an exhibition of Herzog’s photographs.

OFF TOPIC Played golf yesterday with my grandson. He’s home from school for the summer and working in the Lake Placid Resort–45 holes–golf pro shop. Starting at 3PM we had the Lower Course, aka: The Links Course, all to ourselves. I was a member here for years and tried really hard to get him interested in golf but he and all of his time was consumed by elite travel hockey and, eventually, a year of play in Juniors. After a year in Juniors, he decided to skip a second year and go straight to college to play hockey. He was accepted to West Virginia University where he was selected for the hockey team but decided to play for the golf team instead. Surprised everyone cuz he had just taken up golf the year before. How he reached a level of play that got him on the team is anyone’s guess. Now we can’t get him off the course. FYI, I carded an 84 for my first round of the year.

***playing from the rough*** ~ Olympic ski jumps in the background

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

May 14, 2025

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

May 10, 2025

“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.