# 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.

# 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.

# 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.

# 6910-15 / around the house • kitchen sink • flora • fauna • landscape ~ same as it ever was

May 4, 2025

“If a day goes by without my doing something related to photography, it's as though I've neglected something essential to my existence, as though I had forgotten to wake up.” - Richard Avedon

SINCE MY RETURN FROM NEW MEXICO / DENVER, 20 days ago, it was until 3 days ago that I made my first photograph here at home. Oddly enough, it wasn’t until I made the photograph in this entry that I realized that so much time had passed since my last picture making. That realization made it plain that I had, in fact, been feeling “it's as though I've neglected something essential to my existence.” That written, it should be noted that all of those 17 photograph-making-less days were spent doing something related to photography––i.e. processing my travel photographs.

Over past 2 days I have made a couple more photographs and begun to realize what it was that caused the back-to-home photo making lull; apparently, or so it seems, while in New Mexico, my picture making sensitivity intuitively(?) transitioned to the landscape mode. A mode in which shapes, texture, color, line, and tone found in the natural world are very different from the same values in a more urban / domesticated / man-made environment.

I can not write that I was consciously aware of that change but I was most certainly aware of the fact that reverting to the “rules of composition” was not going to be productive in the cause of avoiding making touristy / calendar pictures. It was that thought that got me off on the right foot when, from the get-go, I decided to make photographs from the passenger seat of our rental car.

# 6905-09 / people • travel • photos by others ~ stumbling into things

May 1, 2025

APOLOGIES FOR NOT POSTING RECENTLY. ALTHOUGH I HAVE PLENTY OF photos to publish I really have not had much on my mind, photography wise, to say. There’s that, but also it should not go without mentioning that I was pretty wrapped up processing photos––110 to be exact–– from my recent travels. That written, I’m back in the saddle and ready to go.

During my recent travels to New Mexico I serendipitously encountered a few items of interest, 2 of which are photo related, 1 of which is, well, kinda weirdly mysterious(?) / mystical(?) / or, maybe just oddly coincidental….

ITEM #1 …. while visiting Bandelier National Monument, I purchased a Smokey Bear building kit––sorta like a LEGO kit but with a zillion excruciatingly tiny pieces––cuz I like to construct LEGO kits, not cuz I am enamored of Smokey Bear, per se (albeit that he is the “mascot” of the National Park Service). Being a instant gratification kinda guy, I built Smokey a day later while in our hotel in Santa Fe.

It was not until a day ago that I learned the actual Smoky Bear (a cub)––severely burned––was rescued from a forest fire in New Mexico. He was then taken to Santa Fe were he was nursed back to health and then transferred to the Smithsonian in Washington, DC where he was given a permanent home in the National Zoological Park with the stipulation that his life be dedicated to fire prevention and wildlife conservation.

That written (and call me weird if you like), but I do find it kinda weird that I rescued a disembodied (fragmented?) Smokey Bear effigy languishing in a New Mexico National Park gift shop and took it (him) to Santa Fe where I restored it (him) to life-unlike Humpty Dumpty, I made Smoky whole again. He was transported to Au Sable Forks, NY where I gave him a permanent home. I ask you, cosmic or what?

ITEM #2 (not an actual thing) …. A part of the desire to return to Santa Fe was that during our previous visit, we were not able to visit the Georgia O’Keeffe museum cuz it is by reservation only and is often booked full well in advance. So informed, we were able to book a reservation well in advance. Hence, I learned a few interesting facts about O’Keeffe….

O’Keeffe was “discovered” by Alfred Stieglitz. At first she was his lover but then his wife. It should come as no surprise that, being married to Stieglitz, she often found herself in the company of––even occasionally traveling with––notable photographers- Adams, Porter, Strand, Webb and others. Stieglitz created 350 photographs––formal studies––of O’Keeffe. Starting in 1940, after Stieglitz’ death, O’Keeffe began in earnest to pursue making photographs––with a Leica and a Polaroid––of the Southwest. She has had several exhibitions of her photos, including Georgia O’Keeffe, Photographer at the Museum of Fine Arts (Houston).

In the triptych above is one of O’Keeffe’s photos of her favorite door, a photo of her and Stieglitz at the Stieglitz family property in Lake George, NY (about 40 as-the-crow-flies miles from my house) where they spent many summers and where Stieglitz made most of his Equivalents photographs, and a photo of O’Keeffe out and about photographing with her Leica––which was on display in the glass case by the mural.

ITEM #3 …. In the O’Keeffe Museum gift shop I purchased a book, Stand in the Light ~ NATIVE VOICES illuminated by EDWARD S. CURTIS. While I was casually aware of the work of ECS, I was woefully ignorant of both the volume of the work and the dedication extended to create it.

Between 1900 and 1927 Curtis visited 80 different tribes, made 40,000 photographs, recorded songs and stories, interviewed famous tribal leaders and managed to produce and publish 29 volumes of The North American Indian. He did all this while exhausting his personal funds, losing his studio, his wife divorcing him, and being forced into bankruptcy.

Don’t know if that was extreme dedication to an endeavor or a form of obsessive insanity but, as it states on the book’s back cover:

……In a perfect partnership, the songs, prayers, and philosophies of eight American Indian tribes are paired with select historical photos––taken by the incomparable Edward S. Curtis––of the people who lived them. This carefully curated collection is an inspirational and educational journey of respect for their culture, ideals and images.

The portraits in this book are simply stunning in their straightforward honesty and gaze. iMo, Curtis is not only at the top of his game but also at the top of the game. If there is a better portrait photographer in the entire history of the medium, I am stumped as to who that might be.

Highly recommended.