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Date: Wednesday, 12 Jun 2013 10:12
If you're in the market for gently used film canister lids, you may be interested in my eBay listing put up this morning. I'm selling off some of my collection. If you're a beginning lid collector, this is a great way to jumpstart your archive. Or for those who've been at it a while, these lids will push your collection over the top.
Here is the description as written on eBay:
Here is the description as written on eBay:
For sale, a one gallon milk jug containing lids collected from 35 mm tin film canisters over the past 5 years. Selling as complete set only, including jug. These handy little rings have a million and one uses: *String them together into a necklace *Play ring toss (chopsticks make great goals) *Use as backfill to level out troublesome garden holes *Melt lids into molten tin, then mold into a boat anchor *Look through them one at a time *Create an obstacle course for ants or fleas *Many more uses! Lids provide hours of pleasure! If these lids sound like something you could use, go ahead and make a bid. But do so quickly, as I don't expect them to last long at this price. Serious offers only please. |
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Sunday, 09 Jun 2013 09:23
First the good news. The current In-Public show in Stockholm was featured this week in Dagens Nyheter (Latest News), which is apparently the most respected cultural daily in Sweden. They even sent a reporter --a nice guy named Andreas-- to interview Matt, David, and me.
The bad news is that I can't read Swedish. I know, I know. I studied it all through my childhood. We all did. But none of it seems to have stuck.
So I'm at the mercy of Google Translate to see what the heck I said. I entered the article into the Swedish side and something came out the English end which vaguely resembled what we had talked about with Andreas. It mentioned street photography a lot. It mentioned burning cars and peeing buskers. But I think some of the meaning was lost in translation. And the people too. For example, Matt was somehow confused with Nick Turpin who was 1000 miles away at the time. And David's quotes were attributed to Matt. But street photography isn't about taking names. It's about truth, dammit. And the moment and Leicas and stuff. Like jazz.
The translated article was fun to read, but not quite fun enough. I thought it might be more entertaining after undergoing a few more translations, and boy was I right. I took my Swedish>English version, then translated to Greek>Japanese>Basque>Swahili>English. The final product was almost there, but I felt bad about Matt and David getting their names mixed up, so I translated my own name too just to make it all even. In the article below I'm referred to as Nem Um Talvez, which is Swedish for Nem Um Talvez.
Arts Championship soil freezing while on the road
Shot of a group that's not reality, very few, the rest of us this is a perfect match. Well, sounds DN've Stockholm street area and three members displayed.
Nem Um Talvez is a photographer Nick Turpin and Matt Stuart, facing each other, I sigh. How to explain the art of shooting street, as are questions about. This is not the first time. Put the hard eyes and a light color. However, the relationship between the object of a love-hate relationship with the product. After a while, I like street photography is what chin, really.
- Road, the town in the direction of the head of the association of words. However, I started this, I did not know the picture should be out. So, I do not like the place. This image is not important for me to set and unexpected. Ansel Adams is not cool then. In other words, the model is not included as part of a large system is also important. You will work, Nem Um Talvez said.
- So, the picture, and then you say, you do not need to be taken in public places is always a conflict to start the discussion, I also looked at Nick Turpin at Talvez break where you want to be with you.
Nick Turpin has been added with a smile.
- In fact, the rest, are welcome to take pictures at home. Of course, it is very good. However, it is only a picture. , And from these descriptions, please refer to what we do not agree with the majority. However, that should've been.
They all laugh.
Street pictures seem to remember a bit of jazz?
- Of course. We have it, it is possible to agree on the importance of the passage, Nem Um Talvez says.
Nem and Matt Stuart Talvez States and Briton Nick Turpin street is part of an international group photograph in public places. Nick Turpin was the company he founded 13 years ago and 22 days for a photographer.
Trio, during a visit to Sweden, street, photo When word spread awareness about photography. displays (picture modern city) of all sponsors in Stockholm CUP. Snickarbacken 7 Stockholm Open, an exhibition of over 100 photographs. Some funny pictures, photographs or images of bad arguments here. Heaviest gauge. Pissing scattered street performers a hot car.
It is difficult to identify a common denominator. In many cases it can be a mistake. Some photographer, I was attracted by shear. debate is the claim. Matt Stuart is retransmitted close. For him, it is clear that it has nothing to do with perfection. However, Nod Nick Turpin. opportunity to work with only a small error exists in a lot of photographers.
- Build a little bit of what broken, as well as understanding not bad. Nikkutapin who accept me.
Matt Stuart Street Shoot sure that you do not have an affinity for documentary photography.
- Street photographer, shoot I do not know anything about it when he woke up the morning. There is no agenda. Gatufotografiets work does not mean that is the answer to the question. Vice versa. More problems, the better, raised.
Concepts such as truth and reality of the relationship, is it?
- This is a loaded question. Photography, frankly, is the relationship of long and hard. Say that the pictures do not lie, often, the photographer who is responsible for the error. Street shooting, something that is not true. It is often elusive. However, the true figure to be interesting in some way associated, Nem Um Talvez says.
Address shot slightly, art delivery, more than three seem to agree that while the main power supply.
- Street as a photographer, really, and shutter button allows you to control your expectations and rectangular. Nothing more. You can not ask you to repeat the crime of shooting. Services must be always connected. You can not stop watching. In other words, to avoid. I have headaches frequently, says Nick Turpin.
It is very important for all diseases. digital, the main source of inspiration, Matt Stuart, when to shoot 600 shots will be, one day. However, there will be a practical means of unremitting. Growth has been continuous for at least 9 months to break Talvez, analog photographers. Nikkutapin in the ratio of three years.
- I have my camera handy, I'm nervous. Street shooting is not just a good relationship. However, I have pictures of my family was always helpful to find. All of the pictures are for my ability. There is a kind of instinct, I think, for now, I want to save. Has a negative return home flooded, Nem Um Talvez said.
Shooting with others, without asking permission. What do you think is less privacy?
- I think the people who will be angry because the stage is not that interesting, there is something that bothers me, but Nem Um Talvez said.
- Photos of the street, I think, and has shown that it is possible for the position is to build the set, the significance of these words is possible. Yes, art, Nikkutapin said simply.
In public places - Stockholm.
Pictures and photo exhibitions, and until June 22, in public places, 100 pages of pictures. 7 Snickarbacken in Stockholm, and (still image of the modern city) is composed Cup.
Photos of the street.
Paris is considered the place of origin of very gatufotografiets. One of the founders of the French kind Eugene Atget, who, after his death, in 1927, was well-known figures.
Streets as a photographer, Henri Cartier-Bresson, describes not always, but it was a very important time to load deft ability to capture elements.
Century 50, Robert Frank's picture book called "America" was a pioneer in the United States.
Some notable Brassai name William Eggleston, Diane Arbus, Weegee, Gary Wycombe Roh on the ground, and Josef Koudelka. Internet has played a role in street shooting spread worldwide.
The bad news is that I can't read Swedish. I know, I know. I studied it all through my childhood. We all did. But none of it seems to have stuck.
So I'm at the mercy of Google Translate to see what the heck I said. I entered the article into the Swedish side and something came out the English end which vaguely resembled what we had talked about with Andreas. It mentioned street photography a lot. It mentioned burning cars and peeing buskers. But I think some of the meaning was lost in translation. And the people too. For example, Matt was somehow confused with Nick Turpin who was 1000 miles away at the time. And David's quotes were attributed to Matt. But street photography isn't about taking names. It's about truth, dammit. And the moment and Leicas and stuff. Like jazz.
The translated article was fun to read, but not quite fun enough. I thought it might be more entertaining after undergoing a few more translations, and boy was I right. I took my Swedish>English version, then translated to Greek>Japanese>Basque>Swahili>English. The final product was almost there, but I felt bad about Matt and David getting their names mixed up, so I translated my own name too just to make it all even. In the article below I'm referred to as Nem Um Talvez, which is Swedish for Nem Um Talvez.
Arts Championship soil freezing while on the road
Shot of a group that's not reality, very few, the rest of us this is a perfect match. Well, sounds DN've Stockholm street area and three members displayed.
Nem Um Talvez is a photographer Nick Turpin and Matt Stuart, facing each other, I sigh. How to explain the art of shooting street, as are questions about. This is not the first time. Put the hard eyes and a light color. However, the relationship between the object of a love-hate relationship with the product. After a while, I like street photography is what chin, really.
- Road, the town in the direction of the head of the association of words. However, I started this, I did not know the picture should be out. So, I do not like the place. This image is not important for me to set and unexpected. Ansel Adams is not cool then. In other words, the model is not included as part of a large system is also important. You will work, Nem Um Talvez said.
- So, the picture, and then you say, you do not need to be taken in public places is always a conflict to start the discussion, I also looked at Nick Turpin at Talvez break where you want to be with you.
Nick Turpin has been added with a smile.
- In fact, the rest, are welcome to take pictures at home. Of course, it is very good. However, it is only a picture. , And from these descriptions, please refer to what we do not agree with the majority. However, that should've been.
They all laugh.
Street pictures seem to remember a bit of jazz?
- Of course. We have it, it is possible to agree on the importance of the passage, Nem Um Talvez says.
Nem and Matt Stuart Talvez States and Briton Nick Turpin street is part of an international group photograph in public places. Nick Turpin was the company he founded 13 years ago and 22 days for a photographer.
Trio, during a visit to Sweden, street, photo When word spread awareness about photography. displays (picture modern city) of all sponsors in Stockholm CUP. Snickarbacken 7 Stockholm Open, an exhibition of over 100 photographs. Some funny pictures, photographs or images of bad arguments here. Heaviest gauge. Pissing scattered street performers a hot car.
It is difficult to identify a common denominator. In many cases it can be a mistake. Some photographer, I was attracted by shear. debate is the claim. Matt Stuart is retransmitted close. For him, it is clear that it has nothing to do with perfection. However, Nod Nick Turpin. opportunity to work with only a small error exists in a lot of photographers.
- Build a little bit of what broken, as well as understanding not bad. Nikkutapin who accept me.
Matt Stuart Street Shoot sure that you do not have an affinity for documentary photography.
- Street photographer, shoot I do not know anything about it when he woke up the morning. There is no agenda. Gatufotografiets work does not mean that is the answer to the question. Vice versa. More problems, the better, raised.
Concepts such as truth and reality of the relationship, is it?
- This is a loaded question. Photography, frankly, is the relationship of long and hard. Say that the pictures do not lie, often, the photographer who is responsible for the error. Street shooting, something that is not true. It is often elusive. However, the true figure to be interesting in some way associated, Nem Um Talvez says.
Address shot slightly, art delivery, more than three seem to agree that while the main power supply.
- Street as a photographer, really, and shutter button allows you to control your expectations and rectangular. Nothing more. You can not ask you to repeat the crime of shooting. Services must be always connected. You can not stop watching. In other words, to avoid. I have headaches frequently, says Nick Turpin.
It is very important for all diseases. digital, the main source of inspiration, Matt Stuart, when to shoot 600 shots will be, one day. However, there will be a practical means of unremitting. Growth has been continuous for at least 9 months to break Talvez, analog photographers. Nikkutapin in the ratio of three years.
- I have my camera handy, I'm nervous. Street shooting is not just a good relationship. However, I have pictures of my family was always helpful to find. All of the pictures are for my ability. There is a kind of instinct, I think, for now, I want to save. Has a negative return home flooded, Nem Um Talvez said.
Shooting with others, without asking permission. What do you think is less privacy?
- I think the people who will be angry because the stage is not that interesting, there is something that bothers me, but Nem Um Talvez said.
- Photos of the street, I think, and has shown that it is possible for the position is to build the set, the significance of these words is possible. Yes, art, Nikkutapin said simply.
In public places - Stockholm.
Pictures and photo exhibitions, and until June 22, in public places, 100 pages of pictures. 7 Snickarbacken in Stockholm, and (still image of the modern city) is composed Cup.
Photos of the street.
Paris is considered the place of origin of very gatufotografiets. One of the founders of the French kind Eugene Atget, who, after his death, in 1927, was well-known figures.
Streets as a photographer, Henri Cartier-Bresson, describes not always, but it was a very important time to load deft ability to capture elements.
Century 50, Robert Frank's picture book called "America" was a pioneer in the United States.
Some notable Brassai name William Eggleston, Diane Arbus, Weegee, Gary Wycombe Roh on the ground, and Josef Koudelka. Internet has played a role in street shooting spread worldwide.
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Friday, 07 Jun 2013 14:30
Melanie Flood is a photographer and curator based in Portland.
BA: How large a role does chance play in your work? And in your life?
Who is your favorite photographer from the 1970s and why?
Nine months of Polaroids? What's that about?
BA: How large a role does chance play in your work? And in your life?
MF: Place has a huge influence on the type of work a person makes. It was by chance I met my husband on a street in Tribeca yet it was my choice to wear a blue leather dress. It was not by chance that we visited the PNW after we were married, yet it was a choice to move. My college friend was from Portland who I would visit and perhaps she is the true reason we live here. Chance is determined by the percentage of deliberation that goes into a decision and all the contingencies which follow.
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| from Suggested Experiences by Melanie Flood |
Who is your favorite photographer from the 1970s and why?
I don’t have a favorite photographer from any decade but admire Sanja Iveković and her piece "Double Life" (1975) Marcia Hafif’s “Pomona Houses” (1972), Lynda Benglis’s advertisement in the 1974 issue of Artforum, Judy Chicago’s “Dinner Party” (1979) and Nan Goldin’s early photographs are among my favorite things made during the 70’s.
Name a photographer working now whose appeal cannot be explained to you.
It wouldn’t behoove me in a small city to name names, but there are certainly artists & styles of photography being highlighted which don’t interest me. Explanations may strengthen my like or dislike but could never take me from dislike to like. There is one artist Aaron McElroy whom I first met in 2009; our mutual friends tried to sway me to his photography-they never could but I saw potential. During his recent show at Ampersand it was clear that Aaron had made great strides in building his visual language, which led me to better understand his aesthetic. Seeing growth out of potential is often more satisfying to me than the work itself.
How do you conceive of a photo project and how do you know when a project is complete?
For my studio work Suggested Experiences I have visualizations while falling asleep, or in dreams that are based on blurry memories or a random concept I’m thinking about which I attempt to build out and represent. Each photo is a one off which may come together over time based on their similarities. U-Turns, K-Turns is about the anxiety of picture taking while traveling. My only ‘body of work’ is twelve 16x20 C-prints that I completed as an undergraduate student at SVA. I consider Lost Bag, Found Bag a finished piece even if it’s just two photos. The process of looking, thinking, shooting, of just going to and being at my studio are all an integral part of my making work and the work having agency. The entire action of my exploring this inclination to create is more important than having an object to show for it. But! When I take an i-phone snap of a Polaroid and text it to a friend that’s when I know I’m onto something...
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| Nine Months of Polaroids by Melanie Flood |
It’s a photo of a stack of Polaroids I shot in my studio over a period of nine months. Sometimes when I’m working I become so disconnected from reality that I don’t even know how I got to the final photo- I attribute this to my working fast, changing arrangements immediately if I dislike them. I take a Polaroid of every change, no matter how small. Nine months of Polaroids is a document and timeline of that dizzying dance.
You have a fascination with photographing textures and materials. Does that apply to those materials in real life too, or only to photographs?
All of my friends know my ‘full panda’ outfit, so yes, in real life too. I love fashion, it’s an extension of expression. I’ve always picked up ribbon here and there, stacks of fabric meant for unrealized sewing projects. I wanted to incorporate this interest directly into my work. I chose materials for Color Studies with attention to the garish, reminding me of vibrancy in nature, anomalies like rainbows, which mimic my reaction to my first summer living in the Northwest. I had a friend visit from back East. She wanted to go on an adventure. I heard about a psych-trance party in the middle of nowhere. We drove toward Estacada, finally reaching our destination about 20 miles into the woods off logging roads. It was a fluorescent marriage of epic proportions. The dense forest a place idyllic for solitude was visually being divided by laser beams and moonlight. I saw color in an entirely new way. Using that experience as a point of departure I needed to hone my technical skills. In creating a controlled studio environment I began to think of three categories of painting- still life, landscape and portraiture. This led me to the drapery studies of da Vinci which are common exercises in learning how to draw. I was aware of the ‘fabric as backdrop’ trope in conceptual still lifes and the materials versatility-spandex for a swimsuit, wrapping paper for a gift, I wanted to document them without any added elements and only manipulated by my arrangement.
Tell me about the first photo you ever made that you still like.
It’s a portrait of my mother, brother, aunt, two twin cousins and grandmother taken on Christmas 1988 in my childhood kitchen with a newly gifted Le Clic. I was 9 and much smaller than my subjects so I was shooting upwards to get their bodies in the frame. It was the first photo I recall taking and the last photo of them together, later that night my grandmother had a heart attack and died shortly thereafter. Everything else changed.
Tell me about this photo:
I like to take self-portraits in window reflections a la Friedlander via Max Kozloff. The metallic reflectors caught my eye, so I snapped it.
What do you think of Portland's photography scene?
When I moved here in 2010, I was very excited to jump in and be involved with the art community, particularly photography. I had been a panelist for Photolucida Critical Mass a few times, and also checked out the Blue Sky Exhibition Committee. I joined the Portland Art Museum Young Patrons Society, attended a few photo council meetings and became an early supporter of Yale Union. I shopped at Monograph Bookwerks, hung out on First Thursday, was terrified by Last Thursdays. A group of photographers from New York that relocated to Portland started a crit group rotating between studios and later I became involved in ‘Talking Gang’ which includes artists working in various mediums. I’ve been in three local shows this past year, made new work that excites me, and have good stuff on the horizon.
Writing about Melanie Flood Projects, you said the photo world is like a high school social scene. Do you think Portland is like that?
I don’t think so. What Portland lacks in exhibition opportunities it makes up for in its supportive community of artists which fosters growth and experimentation. I’m sure a high school-esque competition exists here, but not amongst my peers. I’ve had quite the opposite experience, and that’s part of the reason I enjoy living here. Artist friends Samantha Wall and Stephen Slappe, Teresa Christiansen, and Tricia Hoffman have made my transition to town and refocus on art making an inspired one. I wouldn't be as productive and motivated without their constant support and feedback.
How would you characterize the exhibition environment in Portland compared to New York?
I cannot compare Portland to New York but needless to say, it’s natural to be underwhelmed. New York state has over 2000 museums, the city over 1500 galleries with connections to major curators, relationships with critics and writers, and a necessary collector base which keeps art galleries operating. There are endless opportunities for exhibition, higher education, residencies, jobs, internships with established artists.
Our two main photography venues are also educational resources. Blue Sky and Newspace are non-profit organizations whose exhibitions must appeal to a broad audience- photojournalism, documentary, portraiture, than more experimental work shown in a larger city. It’s crucial to showcase a variety of work that represents current photographic trends, whether that’s digital manipulation, photo sculpture or the conceptual. I do detect a curatorial shift occurring-in 2011 Blue Sky chose Millee Tibbs’s This is a Picture of Me for their smaller gallery and Newspace’s Photography at the Edge presented photography in less traditional ways. In April during Photolucida Portfolio Reviews, the PAM photo council invited Alec Soth to the museum for an unusual lecture where he projected an exhaustive list of powerpoint presentations and answered questions from the audience as he spoke. (Afterwards during his book signing gaggles of women were swooning and cooing all over).
I generally dislike separating photography from a larger art scene, but I feel that distinction in Portland much more than in New York. There are a lot of Portland based photographers and few spaces to exhibit their work alongside other mediums, and even fewer spaces that have a collector base. It creates a line between artists and that of hobbyists, amateurs and straight photographers. In recent years spaces like Yale Union have brought solid programming to Portland which set the bar higher -the Marianne Wex show in October was particularly challenging. Terrain Shift at Lumber Room was a delight. John Motley is delivering a much needed critical voice bringing international attention to Portland by writing for Artforum. The opportunities for grants from the Oregon Arts Commission and the Regional Arts and Culture Council are an amazing resource to fund creative ideas and bring them to the public. As Portland’s art community grows, it’s also easy to be overwhelmed by all the opportunities to pitch in.
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| Marianne Wex |
What about the style of shooting?
The strength of setting and regional influence appears to be greater in Oregon than in New York. I see a lot of 1970’s nostalgia, retro cinematic aesthetics, alternative process, as well as outdoor lifestyle stuff.
Do you ever envision opening a gallery in Portland similar to Melanie Flood Projects?
Melanie Flood Projects began because my friends at the Humble Arts Foundation were dominating (rightfully so) the rebirth of photography in New York. I was inspired by my peers entrepreneurship and the long history of showcasing art at home- Hans Ulrich Obrist's first exhibitions were in his kitchen. There was an opportunity to add something special to an already vibrant, motivated, emerging market. Upon arriving to Portland I curated a show at the now defunct Worksound Gallery. It was a mix of drawings, video, installation, sculpture and photography. I wanted to test the waters before diving in, it was cold. I’m into future curatorial experiments but would not involve me opening a space and would look very different from what I did in Brooklyn.
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)" Tags: "Eye On PDX"
Date: Wednesday, 05 Jun 2013 16:27
I had a chance to handle Matt Stuart's MP last weekend. The thing weighs a ton! Well, actually it's just a few pounds. But it was surprisingly hefty, more massive than my camera for example, which is already heavier than most others I've tried.
I think much of the extra mass is in his rather large f/1.4 lens. Or maybe he filled the film slot with lead. Regardless, it made me wonder about the ideal weight for a camera. I think the common supposition among manufacturers is that smaller is better. People get tired carrying some big tank around all day. They want a camera that they don't notice on the shoulder. Plastic, small, dense. Maybe pocketsized is the ultimate goal of all these camera lines. Eventually --if we haven't reached that point already-- we'll arrive at an age where size is no longer any type of constraint. By Moore's law within 5 or 6 years we'll have cameras the size of a matchbox which can shoot 20 megapixels. What then?
We have the technology to make one-inch spoons. And we could make an axe out of titanium which is light and strong and swings like a feather. But we don't make those things. Why? Because those tools would be ridiculous and ineffective.
I think camera design should work by the same principle. A camera should be scaled to a human hand and to human strength. The ideal size and weight probably varies for everyone but I suspect it's at least a pound or two, and at least the size of a mid-range banana. Personally I like a camera with some weight to it and which fills my grip. I like one that could knock a pingpong ball 10 yards if needed. Not that I would, but you get the idea.
Maybe all of this is in my head. You tend to like what you're used to, and I've been using a heavy Leica for a while. But there are practical effects too. A heavy body has less camera shake. Try holding a ping pong ball motionless, then try it with a bowling ball and you'll see what I mean. A heavy camera reminds me it's there. I think I want to notice it on my shoulder. Not too heavy since I still want to swing it easily to my eye. But with some mass. In the Google Glass world will anyone even notice anymore when they are or aren't carrying a camera?
I guess what I'm saying is that technology may no longer be the key determining factor. Now the factor is What do we want? The size and weight I want is roughly the same as it was in 1925.
I think much of the extra mass is in his rather large f/1.4 lens. Or maybe he filled the film slot with lead. Regardless, it made me wonder about the ideal weight for a camera. I think the common supposition among manufacturers is that smaller is better. People get tired carrying some big tank around all day. They want a camera that they don't notice on the shoulder. Plastic, small, dense. Maybe pocketsized is the ultimate goal of all these camera lines. Eventually --if we haven't reached that point already-- we'll arrive at an age where size is no longer any type of constraint. By Moore's law within 5 or 6 years we'll have cameras the size of a matchbox which can shoot 20 megapixels. What then?
 |
| Matt holding the next generation Mini-MP (Photo by Brian Sparks) |
I think camera design should work by the same principle. A camera should be scaled to a human hand and to human strength. The ideal size and weight probably varies for everyone but I suspect it's at least a pound or two, and at least the size of a mid-range banana. Personally I like a camera with some weight to it and which fills my grip. I like one that could knock a pingpong ball 10 yards if needed. Not that I would, but you get the idea.
Maybe all of this is in my head. You tend to like what you're used to, and I've been using a heavy Leica for a while. But there are practical effects too. A heavy body has less camera shake. Try holding a ping pong ball motionless, then try it with a bowling ball and you'll see what I mean. A heavy camera reminds me it's there. I think I want to notice it on my shoulder. Not too heavy since I still want to swing it easily to my eye. But with some mass. In the Google Glass world will anyone even notice anymore when they are or aren't carrying a camera?
I guess what I'm saying is that technology may no longer be the key determining factor. Now the factor is What do we want? The size and weight I want is roughly the same as it was in 1925.
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Wednesday, 29 May 2013 06:17
Browsing one of Northampton's many used book stores yesterday I stumbled on an interesting title, Xiu Xiu The Polaroid Project, a 2007 book of photographs made by the band's manager David Horvitz during three of their road tours. I'm not familiar with Xiu Xiu's music. Apparently they're very experimental and avant grade, and some fans fawn over them. I can't comment on that one way or the other. But I've developed a bit of a soft spot lately for Polaroid images. A big soft spot actually. More and more the Instax has become my Go-To camera. It's so primal. Just shutter -> print, with no other process or thought involved. Good, because mediation often fucks things up. Not always, but often. So on the odd occasions when I see Polaroid projects tucked into a bookshelf I am drawn to them.
The photographs in Xiu Xiu aren't half bad. They kick butt on Mike Watt's tour photos, to take a music-related example. But they're not on par with, say, Mike Slack. Some show the band. Most are vernacular scenes. Horvitz's style is very loose and casual, and uses a wide variety of locations and subjects and lighting conditions, enough to stay surprising throughout. I'm not saying they're masterpieces. Actually that's part of their charm. They're snapshots.
But what really sucked me in was the backstory. Horovitz shot these while on tour, then offered them up for free at shows to whoever requested one. That's a pretty special thing to do with any photo but especially a Polaroid. They're friggin one-offs! I can't bring myself to part with my good Instax photos. They're sort of precious. But Horvitz did, then took it one step further. If a fan brought him their own Polaroid film and SASE he would shoot the film, then mail out the prints. Before giving anything away he made scans. Otherwise there would be no book. As for the originals? They're scattered around the world. So three cheers for that project. In one fell swoop Horvitz subverts pretentiousness, collectibility, galleries, and most expectations. And he's not even a photographer! Maybe that's why he succeeded.
I'd skimmed the whole book and was set to buy it when yet another bonus sealed the deal. Tucked into the back cover was a CD of field recordings made by Horvitz while on tour. I'm always searching for weird stuff to play on my radio show and as far as that goes, field recordings are the gold standard. In the right context they can be quite jarring. I've written about how mixing dates can impose variety subconsciously. The deliberate mixing of production standards can have a similar effect. And since many field recordings are lo-fi and primitive, they combine well with just about anything made in a recording studio. I think they go especially well with disco, house, and, well, just about any pop music made in the past 10 years.
If you're a fan of Redheaded Peckerwood you already know this. Many of the images in that book are basically field recordings. Notes, evidence, documents, crime photos, etc. Patterson combines these smartly and jarringly with slickly produced images of indefinite origin. You have no idea what's coming next, and in today's planned world that can be a wonderful outlet. Of course Patterson isn't the only one. Wolfgang Tillmans, Ari Marcopoulos, Roe Etheridge etc. These guys are half Alan Lomax and half Quincy Jones.
I like to think of Polaroids as field recordings. They're often primitive and uncontrived, and a lot can go wrong with them. All of those traits confer a sense of purity. Believability. Maybe it's an illusion but it's there. I think Ruscha attempted to make photographs which were field recordings. And Baltz in his less formal stage. And maybe Shore at one point. And Rickard, Rafman, and the GSV crowd. And all of the recent found photo curators. I think all of these folks were looking for the same thing Alan Lomax and Harry Smith were. What is that thing? Who knows. It's hard to define. It's hard to even look for. But I usually know it when I see it in a used bookstore.
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| Page Spread from Xiu Xiu: The Polaroid Project |
The photographs in Xiu Xiu aren't half bad. They kick butt on Mike Watt's tour photos, to take a music-related example. But they're not on par with, say, Mike Slack. Some show the band. Most are vernacular scenes. Horvitz's style is very loose and casual, and uses a wide variety of locations and subjects and lighting conditions, enough to stay surprising throughout. I'm not saying they're masterpieces. Actually that's part of their charm. They're snapshots.
But what really sucked me in was the backstory. Horovitz shot these while on tour, then offered them up for free at shows to whoever requested one. That's a pretty special thing to do with any photo but especially a Polaroid. They're friggin one-offs! I can't bring myself to part with my good Instax photos. They're sort of precious. But Horvitz did, then took it one step further. If a fan brought him their own Polaroid film and SASE he would shoot the film, then mail out the prints. Before giving anything away he made scans. Otherwise there would be no book. As for the originals? They're scattered around the world. So three cheers for that project. In one fell swoop Horvitz subverts pretentiousness, collectibility, galleries, and most expectations. And he's not even a photographer! Maybe that's why he succeeded.
I'd skimmed the whole book and was set to buy it when yet another bonus sealed the deal. Tucked into the back cover was a CD of field recordings made by Horvitz while on tour. I'm always searching for weird stuff to play on my radio show and as far as that goes, field recordings are the gold standard. In the right context they can be quite jarring. I've written about how mixing dates can impose variety subconsciously. The deliberate mixing of production standards can have a similar effect. And since many field recordings are lo-fi and primitive, they combine well with just about anything made in a recording studio. I think they go especially well with disco, house, and, well, just about any pop music made in the past 10 years.
If you're a fan of Redheaded Peckerwood you already know this. Many of the images in that book are basically field recordings. Notes, evidence, documents, crime photos, etc. Patterson combines these smartly and jarringly with slickly produced images of indefinite origin. You have no idea what's coming next, and in today's planned world that can be a wonderful outlet. Of course Patterson isn't the only one. Wolfgang Tillmans, Ari Marcopoulos, Roe Etheridge etc. These guys are half Alan Lomax and half Quincy Jones.
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| A field in Park City recorded by Lewis Baltz |
I like to think of Polaroids as field recordings. They're often primitive and uncontrived, and a lot can go wrong with them. All of those traits confer a sense of purity. Believability. Maybe it's an illusion but it's there. I think Ruscha attempted to make photographs which were field recordings. And Baltz in his less formal stage. And maybe Shore at one point. And Rickard, Rafman, and the GSV crowd. And all of the recent found photo curators. I think all of these folks were looking for the same thing Alan Lomax and Harry Smith were. What is that thing? Who knows. It's hard to define. It's hard to even look for. But I usually know it when I see it in a used bookstore.
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Saturday, 18 May 2013 07:51
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)" Tags: "pranks"
Date: Wednesday, 15 May 2013 07:43
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I took this in The Dalles, Oregon. It was 102 degrees on a Sunday and the streets were deserted, which made for nice uncluttered views of downtown. I was originally interested in getting a photo of the little building that is in the background of the photo. I tend to take a lot of dead-on shots, and I have to remind myself to think of layers. I was trying to figure out how to make the thing I was interested in only a part of the photo rather than the obvious focal point, so I drove around the block and came to this vantage point. I knew it was the one. I didn't even step out of the car all the way. When I put the viewfinder up to my eye the Dodge Dart rolled into the frame. I was so stunned by how perfect it looked I almost forgot to take the photo. I took another one without the car just to have the version I was originally after, but it wasn't as interesting.
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It was one of those days when I was frustrated at having driven so long without seeing anything remarkable. I was a few hours from home up in Washington and kept telling myself to turn around and start the long drive back, but I didn't want to until I found something decent to photograph. I pulled over to look at the map and this is what I saw when I looked up. I figured it might as well be the photo that allowed me to go home. It was too pretty so I included the sign, which seemed relevant to my lack of photo hunting luck. I didn't expect much. I didn't even care much about the image when I saw it, but it has grown on me. I like how bright, clean, and cartoonish it is. I ended up getting a couple of ace photos on the drive home.
•
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This is in one of the neighborhoods right next to the Las Vegas strip. It was a quickie that pretty much turned out as I expected. The color coordination of yards and buildings was interesting, and the tree on the orange side leaning over into the green side struck me as funny. It's a one liner.
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I was having trouble with my Land Camera. Some of the photos were coming out black because the battery was loose, but I thought it was because the film pack was defective. I took this photo through a window just to use up the pack. To be honest I have no idea what happened. It was a happy accident. Without that sphere of light it would be a throw-away.
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I went to the Clark County Fair in Washington with the intention of photographing the demolition derby, but it was a bust. Fears for everyone's safety have widened the gulf between spectacle and spectator, and getting close to the action is impossible unless you are an EMT or the guy with the fire extinguisher. The berm around the cars is so high you can barely see them. Annoyed that I had endured a long bus ride for nothing, I wandered around the fair looking for consolation photos. I don't really care about taking photos at fairs, but I tried to keep a positive attitude. I figured it could at least be good practice for stalking people with my camera. The kid on a leash was pretty great. Despite his father giving me the evil eye I took the photo. I felt like a creep, but it was worth it. When I saw the photo I didn't think it was very good, but when I posted it on Flickr people went crazy. That made me think about what makes a good photo. I had been concerned about the shitty fluorescent light and wasn't thinking about the content being meaningful enough to transcend aesthetic flaws. Sometimes I'm overly concerned about form and aesthetics and I miss the content boat. Now I really like the image. It's more dynamic, less still, than my usual fare. It has the feel of street photography, which I've always admired.
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I tried to get this place for a couple of years before I finally succeeded. Daytime, nighttime, with people, without people, and from all angles. It just never worked. I had pretty much decided it wasn't meant to be. One day I was driving past and saw the Cadillacs glinting in the sun, so I stopped. This drunk guy was hanging around ranting about someone who hit him over the head with a two by four. I took quite a few photos of him flailing his arms around trying to appeal to someone's sympathy, but this one of him in the bigger picture with the cars and the club brought all the right elements together. It was especially serendipitous, because the place closed about two weeks after that. One last miracle at The Miracles Club.
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I was wandering around the woods by the river in North Portland and this guy emerged from the brush with a bike on his shoulder. It looked like he was up to no good but he seemed friendly enough, so I talked with him in the hope of getting a photo. I knew he was the detail that could convey the feeling of that place. He told me a bunch of stuff that sounded like tall tales. He told me about people who live in the woods and murder unsuspecting passersby by dropping boulders on their heads but are afraid of him because he was a champion boxer of some sort at one time. Jake McFlurry, he called himself. When I asked to take his portrait he seemed uneasy about it at first and didn't want the bike in the photo, but I convinced him. I took three photos. In the first two he was kind of stiff. In the third he became Jake McFlurry. It was a great move, a great surprise, him posing like that. I told him to hold the pose because it would be a long exposure, and he was very cooperative. Whenever I get a portrait I like I wish the person could see it, but I rarely take steps to make it accessible to them. I'd like to put a 20x24 print up in those woods, but it's probably exactly what he doesn't want.
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The intersection where this adult book store is located is photographic gold. My original urge was to show everything together, to fit a lot of information into a wide view to give a sense of the neighborhood. I scoped some all-encompassing angles, but every one of them promised to offer little more than a boring Google Street View style snapshot. I eventually noticed that the cheap motel across the street was reflected in the window of the book store. It was an exciting solution, the exact opposite of a wide view. All the information you need about the neighborhood is right there. The close up works well for such lurid subject matter. Whenever I look at this photo I think I should move in close more often.
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)" Tags: "What Was He Thinking?"
Date: Tuesday, 14 May 2013 11:44
San Francisco has a great photo scene, and I got to hang out and talk shop last weekend with several wonderful locals. I enjoyed gallery hopping, street shooting, coffee, beers, and meals (in varying amounts but roughly chronological order) with Stephen McLaren, Wayne Bremser, Jack Simon, Nick Haymes, Stan Banos, and Joe Reifer. Thank you all for your hospitality and company, and for sharing your wonderful city with me! Especially Stephen, who graciously offered a spare bed just minutes from the downtown core. I am eternally grateful.
Stephen lives just around the corner from skid row. Every city's got one. Usually they're tucked away but San Francisco's is proudly displayed front and center, adjacent to City Hall and skyscrapers and tourist central. Can't miss it. Interesting sights and smells, and I left plenty of work prints around, but I found it hard to shoot there. I was more comfortable in the surrounding, less downtrodden areas.
Stephen lives just around the corner from skid row. Every city's got one. Usually they're tucked away but San Francisco's is proudly displayed front and center, adjacent to City Hall and skyscrapers and tourist central. Can't miss it. Interesting sights and smells, and I left plenty of work prints around, but I found it hard to shoot there. I was more comfortable in the surrounding, less downtrodden areas.
I enjoyed walking around the Mission neighborhood. Here's a photo by Jack Simon taken around 24th and Alabama. That's me asleep against the wall on the far left with backpack, and Stephen McLaren walking in front of the light pole. I'm sizing up the scene for my own photo. I took a few but I have no idea yet how they turned out.
It was fun wandering around with Jack. He showed me a store which specialized in pirate supplies, owned by Dave Eggers I think. I'd never been in one of those before. They sold lard, muskets, lanyards, anything a local pirate could ever want. You wouldn't think there'd be enough demand to keep a store like that afloat, but many of the hipsters on Valencia were dressed as regular customers, although none of them looked capable of shooting a cannon. They'd have to put down their iced double swiss mocha lattes to do that.
At Rayko I found a great little book by Sam Grant called La Rue. Never heard of him before. I looked pretty closely at the images and there is absolutely no tint of the contemporary world in them. They look like photos from 100 years ago, even though all were made recently in modern cities. That's hard to pull off unless you're shooting pure nature or nudes. And it was only about 5 inches wide and fit easily into luggage, so I couldn't resist.
SF is chock full of photo galleries, and many hosted multiple shows of classic work. I can't list everything, but Little Big Man was a highlight. It was great to finally meet Nick Haymes and browse his awesome book shelves. He's got quite a little empire going, with many exciting projects in the pipeline. Then he and I drove to an opening in the Tenderloin with 3D photos mounted to pressed board. I think that's the first photo show I've seen where the photos present physical hazards to viewers. You really had to watch your head near them. Then Nick had to go feed his kids so he dropped me back in the heart of skid row and I caught up with Stan Banos nearby for a few pints.
The most pleasant surprise gallerywise was Michael Jang's work at Stephen Wirtz Gallery, a photographer I hadn't known about before. It only took a few photos to make me a convert. I looked at the one below for a while. As my father in law is fond of saying, Holy Darn!
The most pleasant surprise gallerywise was Michael Jang's work at Stephen Wirtz Gallery, a photographer I hadn't known about before. It only took a few photos to make me a convert. I looked at the one below for a while. As my father in law is fond of saying, Holy Darn!
A photo like that can't be planned. Heck, you can't even photograph it unless you're pretty special. And why is there no flash on that window? Jang's the real deal. Here's me near another photo by him, shot by Joe Reifer with whom I was gallery hopping that day.
This was a weird coincidence. We'd just come from Modern Book Gallery upstairs and I'd picked up a souvenir card there of Brian Duffy's Alladin Sane cover photo of Bowie. Five minutes later we walked into Wirtz and this was one of the very first photos on the wall, a child holding that same album, printed at the exact size as my postcard. WTF? I was in a b/w mood after seeing that.
Here's Joe (with camera) and I an hour later at the nearby Buddha Bar trying to figure out what just happened. Why was Alladin Sane playing on the Jukebox there? And what about the red street posts Joe had photographed at a slant? A few beers later we were no close to figuring any of it out. The world was starting to blur...
I grew up in the marijuana capital of the world and I'm no stranger to pot, but even I was surprised by the extent to which weed has infiltrated the daily fabric of San Francisco. Walking around downtown and surrounding neighborhoods, the smell of good strong pot lingered on many street corners. I saw it smoked openly and without hassle, and no one gave it a second thought. This acceptance is probably coming eventually to the rest of the U.S., or at least to its coasts --Oregon is about 5 years behind-- but in San Francisco the future has arrived now. For all practical purposes, prohibition is over. Hooray. Wish I was 22 again with more brain cells.
So what about the Winogrand show? Ah yes, I suppose that was the reason for my trip. Or an excuse to plan around. What can I say that hasn't been said? I'd studied the book and checklist already, so none of the images was a huge surprise. But to see them nicely printed and displayed on a wall...Well, that's an experience a book or screen can't convey. The vintage prints were generally fantastic, if maybe clustering toward the dark end, and the new prints were also excellent though maybe a bit flat. Not complaining exactly, just commenting.
I know Winogrand's work fairly well but looking at room after room of it was a reminder of how often he just nailed it. Every wall had two or three photos which made me mutter, oh yeah, that one's fucking fantastic. You can say all you want about editing and compulsiveness and style, and read whatever theories you want into his life and work. When it comes down to it, the proof is in the photos. Some of them anyway, but that's a big some. I think it's greater than the some of its parts.
The morning of my departure my airport shuttle was late. I'm anal about time --that's why I couldn't wait around for the clock. I paced and brooded, then finally began tossing items overboard. Somehow my Leatherman had made it through security on the flight down, but I didn't like my chances flying back. It usually turns up in X-Ray, and then you need to mail it to yourself and go through the line again. The thought of all that delay made me nervous. I decided to jettison. I put it in the bottom of a nearby newspaper box, then carefully laid the last of my work prints over it. My gift to anyone curious enough to look closely at a photo. Probably worth at least a two day fix to someone on skid row.
I came back to Eugene yesterday with 35 rolls of who knows what, plus plenty of Instax photos. Home sweet home.
Here's Joe (with camera) and I an hour later at the nearby Buddha Bar trying to figure out what just happened. Why was Alladin Sane playing on the Jukebox there? And what about the red street posts Joe had photographed at a slant? A few beers later we were no close to figuring any of it out. The world was starting to blur...
I grew up in the marijuana capital of the world and I'm no stranger to pot, but even I was surprised by the extent to which weed has infiltrated the daily fabric of San Francisco. Walking around downtown and surrounding neighborhoods, the smell of good strong pot lingered on many street corners. I saw it smoked openly and without hassle, and no one gave it a second thought. This acceptance is probably coming eventually to the rest of the U.S., or at least to its coasts --Oregon is about 5 years behind-- but in San Francisco the future has arrived now. For all practical purposes, prohibition is over. Hooray. Wish I was 22 again with more brain cells.
So what about the Winogrand show? Ah yes, I suppose that was the reason for my trip. Or an excuse to plan around. What can I say that hasn't been said? I'd studied the book and checklist already, so none of the images was a huge surprise. But to see them nicely printed and displayed on a wall...Well, that's an experience a book or screen can't convey. The vintage prints were generally fantastic, if maybe clustering toward the dark end, and the new prints were also excellent though maybe a bit flat. Not complaining exactly, just commenting.
I know Winogrand's work fairly well but looking at room after room of it was a reminder of how often he just nailed it. Every wall had two or three photos which made me mutter, oh yeah, that one's fucking fantastic. You can say all you want about editing and compulsiveness and style, and read whatever theories you want into his life and work. When it comes down to it, the proof is in the photos. Some of them anyway, but that's a big some. I think it's greater than the some of its parts.
I was with Wayne Bremser for Winogrand. Then we went to the roof for coffee where Wayne shot me with his cannonball-sized camera before we took the stairs down. One level below Winogrand was a small selection of historic street photos that would've headlined any other gallery, but was rather dwarfed by Winogrand. Still fun to see though.
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| Christian Marclay, from Things I've Heard, at Fraenkel Gallery |
On that same level was Christian Marclay's The Clock. Everyone I met over the course of the weekend encouraged me to see this, but the line was at least a half hour long and I wasn't patient enough to wait. At heart I'm a just smalltown hick who avoids lines. And judging by Marclay's photos which I saw later at Fraenkel, I think I made the right choice. They were OK I guess, in the vein of a thousand Eggleston imitators who focus on the immediate world around them and show how special it is, but not really in a special way. Sorry, that sounds harsh, but I think that style of photography works best when it conveys something about the person behind the viewfinder. These felt anonymous. But hey, I hear anonymous is in. Anyway I think he may be more suited to filmmaking. The Clock is supposedly amazing. Just couldn't find the time for it.
My last night I crossed the bay to visit with an old high school friend for the first time in 4 years. I've known him for about 30, since before I ever picked up a camera. We had dinner and then a few beers and the subject of photography didn't come up once! So see everyone, I'm not a total nerd. I can talk about other stuff sometimes. When I have to.
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Tuesday, 07 May 2013 11:05
Another serendipitous photo pairing, this time in print. Photos below from Weegee (left) and Arnold Newman (right), encountered just a few minutes apart during last night's reading. I like them both quite a bit.
A typewritten letter from Helen Levitt: 
These are the sorts of objects which tell a lot about someone. They fill out the backstory, and they are disappearing rapidly since the digital generation is not leaving any similar physical legacy. Photoephemera used to post items here with regularity, but that blog now seems dead. Sigh.
I guess those things are everywhere if you're looking for them. I just seem to be noticing them more lately, maybe spurred on by the Tumblr aesthetic, or who knows why. One of those weird cycles. Is it still a cycle if it's lasted 15 years and shows no signs of letup?
The Weegee image is from the current New Yorker. The Newman shot (Steel Workers, Gary Indiana, December 11, 1950), which I had not seen before, is from a new book called Arnold Newman at Work. I'll have a full review on Photo Eye soon, but for the time being it might be fun to post a few nuggets. The book is full of interesting flotsam from Newman's life, including newspaper clippings, press badges, marked up contacts, holiday cards, passports, and more.
A weird handmade negative carrier labeled OREGON:
A dodging mask carefully designed to expose a photo of Cocteau:
How I wish the new Winogrand book showed similar ephemera from his life, instead of mere photo after photo. Just one letter from his wife or maybe a sheet of marked up contacts, or a passport photo or something. Not asking much. Those would be enough.
Only two more years and I'll be even with the cicadas. Sigh.
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Monday, 06 May 2013 13:11
In-Public's workshop series is ramping up. There are still a few spots available for our street photography workshop in Stockholm, May 31st - June 2nd, 2013. In addition to Nick Turpin and myself, we've added Matt Stuart as an instructor and increased the capacity of the class to 20. So if you thought it was full, please check again. Details and registration info are here.
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| Brian Sparks, Stockholm, Sweden, 2013 |
I probably shouldn't admit this since I am one of the teachers, but I've never taught a street photography workshop. Folks who've already signed on are now muttering with alarm, "Wait. What? Really?" Sorry, it's too late to unregister. And it gets worse because I'm not sure that seeing street photos is a skill that can be taught. Heck, I don't even know if I am a street photographer.
Of course I'm kidding, sort of. Stockholm is gonna rock. I'm fully confident that registrants will have a wonderful and satisfying experience. You will come away both recharged and spent, receive the best feedback we can provide, and hopefully create a few keepers in the process. Nick and Matt are pros. As for myself, I've been busy the past few weeks writing down all of my accumulated street photo tricks, tips, and general wisdom on little scraps of paper. Wherever I am, if an idea strikes I write it down on anything handy. Twenty years of shooting...You should see some of these tips! They're just darn swell. At some point before the workshop I plan to track down all of my little paper scraps and do something with them. Maybe I'll tape them into a big collage. Or paste them into a notebook. Or maybe they could be a flag or something, at least all of those ones I left in the park could, if those guys living down there haven't burned them yet.
Or maybe...maybe I'll just forget them at home when I leave for Sweden. But that won't matter because most of it's in here (pointing at brain) and in here (pointing at shutter finger). And when the times comes to unlock those secrets, they will gush like a fire hydrant. Saturation awaits! And possibly Satori. Workshop participants may find themselves bombarded, and developing a twisted sense of empathy and compassion for the pedestrians holding them captive. Or for me, Nick, and Matt. You've been warned. Sign up now to see what happens next...
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Friday, 03 May 2013 10:15
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Wednesday, 01 May 2013 22:11
Two photos encountered online this morning independently and within one minute of each other:
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Tuesday, 30 Apr 2013 11:43
Bryan Formals is a photographer based in Queens, NY, and the editor of LPV Magazine and Photographs on the Brain. The following conversation is edited from a series of short chats conducted over the past few weeks.
Blake: You seem to take issue with the idea of trophy-hunting photographers. Which I sort of buy into. The problem with that outlook is that photography in general is built on that model. Isn't the whole endeavor a sort of trophy hunt, weeding out what's worth showing vs. what isn't? Some photos ARE more special than others. Right?
Yeah...maybe. Don't know. I'm trying to figure it out. I thought the printing was much better than I'd seen. I used the high quality paper. Also, I want a copy for myself. So I have the photographs printed in some form or another.
Nope. Haven't shown anyone.
So LPV is the big splash?
You want to know it all, right?
Blake: You seem to take issue with the idea of trophy-hunting photographers. Which I sort of buy into. The problem with that outlook is that photography in general is built on that model. Isn't the whole endeavor a sort of trophy hunt, weeding out what's worth showing vs. what isn't? Some photos ARE more special than others. Right?
Bryan: "Weeding out what's worth showing vs. what isn't" - Showing where? That'd be my first question. But yes, of course you make edits the moment you push the shutter.
Showing as a photo. As a photographer choosing what to photograph.
Don't you ever make a photograph that you know might not be special? I make photographs of random stuff all the time. Perhaps it's just for research at times. Or because I want to remember a visual idea.
Yes, but that doesn't mean some aren't special. You can identify those later.
I think I take offense to the term "special". I mean, do some have more visual value in certain contexts? Yes, I think they do.
You don't think Special has meaning? Your criticism of Richard Kalvar revolves around his trophy-hunting aesthetic. He is the classic street shooter seeking out rare situations, then isolating them. Isn't that sort of a refined version of what we all do as photographers?
Yes. But I think my criticism is more about the editing. In fact I think he may have even more "special" photographs that he's not showing.
So he's not a good editor?
Hard to say. But I think he's editing for only one type of presentation, which are books I'm guessing. And who knows, Kalvar could have dozens of dummy books laying around that he just shows his friends. Which would be awesome.
He's only published one.
I don't think it's him in particular I have an issue with.
I'm just using him as an example because that set off the reaction. But I think he represents a certain photographic outlook which you may be reacting to.
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| A particular moment seized in 1982 by Richard Kalvar |
Yes, I agree. And that outlook may in fact be the way to go.
Don't go wishy washy on me.
But I'm not sure it's the most interesting RIGHT NOW.
I feel the tension between shooting for certain frames vs. trying to tie those frames together into structures that may have less to do with specific moments. But really I've always been a single frame guy. Honestly.
I don't know about that. I think all your photographs flow together and overlap in interesting ways. That's the beauty of it. You can cut them up in a variety of interesting ways. It's like the guy from Beijing Silvermine. He doesn't want to make a book because he doesn't want there to be an "authoritative" edit of his work. He wants multiple interpretations. Multiple perspectives and view points.
It's the Rubinfein vs Winogrand issue. Whose voice is that SFMoMA show representing?
Yes, who is editing the photographs and for what purpose. This all gets really confusing with the internet though. Which is why I'm sometimes wishy washy.
Well, 100 years from now I think whatever edits we come up with will have washed away. I think it's just gonna be single images surviving. So they need to be strong.
Hmmm. Well, I think they'll all be in a huge archive. Again, I don't know what strong means really. Maybe aesthetics will change drastically. And all the stuff we thought was garbage were actually the gems. What's a good photograph? Don't ask me. I'm very skeptical of my own taste.
But you know it when you see it? Like pornography and Potter Stewart?
I don't know anymore. I've noticed my flaws. And changed my mind on stuff.
But if I read you right you're critiquing Kalvar's edit as too much of a greatest-hits type flow. All punch and no slack?
Yeah, something like that. I think maybe my objections are more conceptual. Or something like, "that's good for him, but I don't want to think that way."
You quoted another piece on your Tumblr recently which I think ties in, about the Found photo editors:
"For Foster, a print’s history is far less important than its visual beauty and the response it inspires. “It doesn’t really mean anything to me, who shot the image,” says Foster. “But when I do find an image that’s one of the best, I just flip out about it. I like thinking that it could be a Lee Friedlander or a Diane Arbus or a Henri Cartier-Bresson.” Years of photo-hunting have helped Foster train his eyes to recognize an interesting composition among the thousands of snapshots at flea markets and antique shops. “I’ll pick up a handful of a hundred, and I flip them like a deck of cards, because I can tell that quickly whether they have any intrinsic visual power at all or not,” says Foster. “Out of a hundred, I might find a single one that’s even a maybe. That goes to show you how many average, boring, mundane, same height, same scene, same everything is repeated in these old images.”
That's pretty devastating actually.
That passage assumes that some images are "special" and some aren't. That even in a pile of junk snapshots some photos might rise up just by virtue of a singular moment.
Yes, and again, they may be right. But I'm skeptical. I mean, how many minutes on earth have there been? In all 4.5 billion years? We've only been imaging for how many of those seconds? So, in that perspective, I think everything is special.
Give or take a few hundred million.
But you see what I'm getting at? We're talking about art, right?
What the fuck is art?
Well, exactly. Some guy going through my negatives might like the picture I took of my feet because it was weird and twisted. But from a historical perspective I think my documentary work would be better, or stronger or more special. But perhaps not. And perhaps I'm fooling myself. There's always a chance of that.
But show your negatives to 500 people, and they might generally agree on the same set of images. Not that popular opinion matters but they might reflect some judgement about which photos "work".
I would be very curious.
Which infers that some do and some don't, regardless of sequencing, etc. The ones which Foster might like. The ones which Kalvar is after.
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| Spread from The Present, Paul Graham |
Unless you put two or three together. Which ones work in The Present? Do they all work? I mean, some of them I think are absolutely horrible. Dreadful, like some of the worst shit I've seen.
Graham?
Yes. I mean, there are some fucking awful street photographs in that book! But I weirdly like them in the context. I don't know why. Well, I kind of do know why.
I haven't seen the book but I don't really like what I've seen online. But that's fine. I wouldn't use him as an example of photos that "work". Maybe they only work in conjunction with others?
Yes, I think so. They only really work in the book. And on the wall. From what I remember. But the book is terrible. It's tough to stomach. I also love it.
What do you love about it?
I love how he shows that the moment before and moment after the 'decisive' photograph are important and can have value. They're like a bridge that gets you to where you need to go.
Those moments have value?
Yes! They are special. It's very true from my perspective as a street photographer.
I'd probably disagree.
Why?
I'm not dogmatic about it being one Decisive Moment. But you can't just pull shit out of your ass and slap a "value" label on it. I mean, pull anything off of Flickr that's a mistimed moment. Call it special. Just because he's Paul Graham he gets a pass? It goes back to trophy hunting. I guess I'm a trophy hunter.
I don't think he pulled it out of his ass. He's been making photographs for years. And has fine tuned his sensibility. He knew what he was doing when he pushed the shutter.
I have to see the book. But I'm skeptical.
I said the book was terrible. I think we are getting caught up on the baseline good/bad dichotomy. That's not what I'm really talking about. Naturally there are just garbage photos that we all toss out. What I'm more interested in are the A/B/C definitions. If there are 60 photos in the book, what's the break down? And what value do the B/C photos have in the online world? For me, this is when it gets more interesting. But people like Kalvar seem to have the "only show your very best photographs" mindset. Which does makes sense I suppose...but it just doesn’t seem like the reality these days. And I think with the way we're archiving work online, it might turn out that our B/C photos are the most interesting.
Hmm. I'd rather look at A photos. Especially with so many flooding every orifice now. Why bother with second-best? Of course determining which ones are A photos is a whole different problem. What do you do with your B/C photos? Do you keep them in a separate folder?
I use LightRoom.
Do you label them according to which are "best"?
I use the star system. Just looking at A photos is so boring. I don't even understand that logic. It's this hierarchical thinking that I find counter intuitive. I look at the whole pile. Good is only in relation to the other photographs around them. A photos compared to what? In relation to my other photos, they might be MY best. But are they better than Eggleston? OK. No. So are they still A photos? Should I even bother showing them if they're not better than Winogrand, or Eggleston or Koudelka?
So because they don't compare to Eggleston you're going to show your worse photos? I don't get it.
I'm saying, my BEST doesn't compare to Eggleston or Shore or those guys, so why even bother showing anything? If the whole game is to just show the best photographs in the world, how can you ever win? Why even compete?
That's a bit defeatist.
Exactly.
And if you're going to show anything at all, I'd recommend showing your best.
I don't agree. That's not the reality on the web either, at least in my opinion.
Ok, so where are you going with this? You want to show B/C photos? Toward what end? Just to play with editing?
Sure, and to share, and to archive. Because how do I know I'm choosing the BEST photos?
The standard system as it's handed down to most of us, is you shoot a ton, thousands. You edit down to the one or two or maybe none that live up to whatever standard you want. That's Kalvar's approach. And the general street shooter's outlook. So if I understand you, you're taking a different approach.
Perhaps someone looks at my Flickr and comes up with a different interpretation.
But that's so wishy washy. It's putting aesthetic decisions completely in the hands of editors. Which I'm not discounting. I think there's value there. But some photos work, and some don't. Regardless of edit.
I'm opening up the process. Not leaving everything to editors.
What does that mean?
It's like showing the fucking contact sheets.
Ah, now we get back to Graham finally...
Maybe not contacts…but longer edits. I wouldn't show EVERYTHING. Not by a long shot.
I'm with you in a way. The reason I never mark up my contacts is because I have this fantasy that I may come along later and choose different frames. And the marks would predispose me toward my first edit. But of course I never go back and look at them again.
But you might.
If I lived to be 1000.
I mean, for Genesee I went back to the negatives about four different times after I thought I had an edit locked down. I ended up finding 4 photographs that made the book. It's confusing.
And if you went back in 2 months maybe 4 others would surface.
 |
| from Genesee, Bryan Formhals |
And if you went back in 2 months maybe 4 others would surface.
Right? That's what bothers me.
That's what makes me nervous about making books.
Exactly! But don't be wishy washy! Ha. Maybe you’ll make a better edit in 25 years. To me, that's kind of fucking awesome. I mean, dude, this is a game to me. It's for my amusement. I love the entire fucking process and I want to play with it.
OK. Let me ask you straight up. Are some photos better than others as singles shots? They will get an A which never goes away? Regardless of edit.
Yes. I'd say so. I could certainly pick the photos of mine that I think are the best. It's a tough feeling to ignore.
But you don't necessarily want to show only those.
No, not really. Because I like the photographs that I'm not certain about. Basically everything I'm doing now. I honestly don't know. I think if I did make any decent photos in LA it might have been a fluke.
Yes, there is that middle ground which is a problem. Maybe it is The problem. The photos that don't quite make the cut yet there's something about them. They aren't trash either.
Yes! It's that bad feeling.
That could be a book. Maybe LPV 7. Deliberate middle ground.
That would be tricky. It's so fluid.
What do you think about Frank's Butte Montana hotel window photo?
I love it.
I'm guessing it wasn't on his A list.
Tough call. But no, I don't think so. It would be interesting to hear what an actual editor or publisher has to say. Jack Woody or Michael Mack. It's an interesting time for books.
OK, but those guys are basically re-affirming the A-List. They're defining it. At least for books.
Sure, but I'm wondering how they go about trimming 200 photos down to 60. That's what I was talking about. Do they create a pile of A photos? B? C? Or do they start sequencing right away? Do they create piles by subject? That's the stuff I want to know about. Did you see the Michael Mack interview? I thought that was really good.
Yes. Great interview. Great books.
The mechanics of it all....
Maybe the process is different for each book. Pull some D list photos out just for kicks. That's what The Pixies would do.
Yeah.
And those D photos raise the quality of all others in comparison.
It's interesting how some bands won't play their hits because they're so fucking sick of them. Music seems much more liberating than photography.
I've always hated Greatest Hits albums. And I think your philosophy leads into why. If it's just hit hit hit that grows boring. Whereas an album with foibles and weirdness can seem stronger.
I think that's accurate.
I'm just nervous about the arbitrary nature of picking "hits" and "misses". It takes a lot of craft to find the balance. The Americans is Exhibit A. It's not a greatest hits monograph. Or The White Album.
I guess I don't really think about it that much.
I think you've thought about it. As an editor...
I guess I'm drifting more into the artistic mindset.
Just what we need. Another fucking artist.
Yeah, exactly. I guess you could call it the photographic mindset. I could be doing everything wrong. But I'm doing what feels right.
I hate printing my "favorites". I feel like once I've printed them nicely they're done. And I never want to show them again. I just made a print by request of that broken sidewalk photo again. I don't think I want to look at that one for a while.
Yeah, they become boring.
But I could get just as sick of my B/C prints if I printed those. I just have a short attention span.
I'm so bored with my Genesee book now. I couldn't go back and do anything with it if I wanted. It's just not there anymore.
But I haven't even seen the book. Where is it?
It's on Blurb. But I'm calling it a dummy. I set the price at $250.
I guess you gotta really want it.
I don't want anyone to buy it.
WTF?
I just want it archived on Blurb. I'm going to send it to select people. I sent one to my parents.
What was their reaction?
"Cool photos!" I'm not sure they're all that interested in photography. Ha. Unless it's my mother taking photographs of the family.
But that's a perfect audience, with no preconceptions. You don't think they really understood them in the way you intended?
I'm not sure it's that hard to understand. It's basically, "Hey, here are some color photographs I made while I was in LA!"
Is that how you'd explain them to a photographer?
Depends on the day and depends on the photographer. But yeah, I think that's the gist of it. I could make up some stuff about psychogeography I suppose. I'd rather just tell stories about walking around LA. I prefer conversation. But we live in an artist statement kind of world.
I was just at Photolucida where everyone had their canned five-minute introduction to their work ready at hand. The photos seldom did all the talking.
I'm going to send a couple copies to friends in Cali. They're in the book.
So Blurb is just the production vehicle. Not for sale.
Yeah...maybe. Don't know. I'm trying to figure it out. I thought the printing was much better than I'd seen. I used the high quality paper. Also, I want a copy for myself. So I have the photographs printed in some form or another.
If you buy one for $250, you just made like $150 in profit! You should buy 500 copies.
Yeah I guess. I'll keep track of who I send them to. There's a very good chance that I'm using my own work to practice making books. I have a feeling I might get into publishing books.
Cool. It seems like a natural step.
Yes. I don't know though. Hard work! At this point, I don't really have anything else to do. I'm sort of stuck with photography and myself.
I hope you weren't offended by my advice about publishing your work in LPV. It was just my opinion. It's your magazine. You might ask what others think. I'd be curious.
 |
| Alfred Steiglitz's vanity project |
Yeah, most people have said go for it. I think most of these magazines are vanity projects anyway.
But that move sort of cements it. Was Camerawork a vanity project?
Probably. Was Aperture? What's the risk? If people don't want to follow, fuck them. I'm tired of this attention game. It's corrosive. I think it's the best set of photographs I've made.
From where?
I've been photographing the neighborhoods under the 7 train in Queens.
Where are they? Online somewhere?
Nope. Haven't shown anyone.
So LPV is the big splash?
Yes. Along with an essay. But, we'll see. I may just publish it to Blurb and send it to my parents.
[After more deliberation Bryan decided against publishing his own work in LPV]
[After more deliberation Bryan decided against publishing his own work in LPV]
Chris Verene posted on FPN about deliberately holding back work online, to allow photo exhibits some space to make an impact outside of the web. I think Lauren Henkin took the same approach a few years ago.
That's probably smart.
I do the same thing but no grand strategy. I'm just backlogged. So nothing new is ever posted.
Yeah, I have other stuff to publish.
But it's a deliberate act to hold back. It must be killing you not to share.
No, not really. I think they're good.
Now you've got me curious. I guess I'll see it when I see it.
Well, they're just photos, street photos.
I saw a bunch of stuff at Photolucida that was new to me. Too much really to digest. It's just a little corner of the photo world but so much shit out there to keep track of.
Yeah, it's impossible. I was at AIPAD a few weeks ago. It's crazy.
Name one thing you saw which impressed.
I don't remember anything. I liked looking at the old documentary prints.
See that's the problem. The photos swamp you. You can't take it all in.
You want to know it all, right?
Soth touched on this in his Photolucida talk. He wants narrative. That's his filter. If he can't make it into a story, it can't grab his interest. So those are the photos he makes and likes. A good way of filtering, but not the only way.
Yeah, I think there's something to that.
His camp this summer is geared toward that. Socially awkward camp for storytelling. It turns photographers into novelists or oralists. Oralists? Bad choice of words. So that's one way of editing, through narrative. Which I think is dominant now partly thanks to him. I'm open to it. I just don't want that to be the only way. Everyone now seems to want their photos to tell some obscure story.
I asked on Twitter if you could pursue philosophy through photography.
Only if you're a photographer. Any response?
A couple witty comments. For me going on long walks is about much more than just making photographs.
You can probably pursue philosophy through any profession. Carnival barker? Slaughterhouse technician? Taxi driver?
Sure, if they ask the right questions.
But do taxi drivers Google chat for hours over endless rhetoric? No, probably not.
What's the quote I just saw? Something about photographs without discourse:
"In my essay I argue that, without discourse, art loses density. I set up the interview blog to begin with so that art online wasn’t just re-blogs, “likes” and comments, but had some real sentiment and context to feed the viewer’s imagination and understanding of the art. In the introduction I’m talking about art that rarely leaves the Internet, because it’s seen as inherently amateurish, valueless or net-kitschy. We can freely self-educate now and as a result there’s a wealth of brilliant artists online, getting next to no real exposure. They deserve it! Ultimately, this problem really gets me going; there’s so much to talk about that hasn’t entered contemporary art discourse yet."
A reaction to what we might call abbreviated culture? Where thoughts and reactions are translated into simple likes and reblogs?
Well, yeah. That's for people that want status in the art world.
Well, yeah. That's for people that want status in the art world.
That was the spark of my Approvals post. I'm into discourse but I suspect its best days are behind it. We are now into another era. No time for discourse. I get scared by the idea of all these photos sort of floating out there with no aesthetic value assigned.
Scared of what? I don't see what would be scary.
Scared of someone, Joe Schmo, coming along and editing them in a certain way. And that then takes on the heft of real criticism. ____ ____ defining the era. That scares me. When who knows why they picked those? And someone else might choose some completely different work. And, maybe the real problem, some of the work I see being curated in this way is definitely B/C work. They're not trophies in any respect.
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)" Tags: "Interviews"
Date: Monday, 29 Apr 2013 09:48
Some pictures make me feel high, like been high before but get this feel like multiple universe or something with all these views. Like deja vu and Cubism. And we all lived 100 years ago in a different body. Did you know Cezanne washigh? As akite dude! so where did 4:20 come from I ask all myfriends no one can tell, like where? So there was a huge conference really big on April 20th that's 4:20 like where did that come from? Just from the sky I mean how didj they make that up? Anyway people were sparking up left and right and pot was just like free and open, like wild birds or something. And the cops laid off and it was fine. You ever look at wildbirdsImean really look at them? Like for hours? He could've been someone born 100 years ago Like I was saying Cezanne made these Cubist paintings that were all Square but from the side they looked like cubes like the name. Well this guy Theo Stroomer did the same thing but with cameras dude. On 4:20! I bet it was that Pineappleexpress. Shit knocks youout! He injected pot into his cameras or something fully baked. Colorado pot is strongt. Man am I hungry. More photos here. Wait did I say that already?
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Sunday, 28 Apr 2013 09:02
1. Subways
2. Roads/paths running toward the horizon
3. Posters ironically juxtaposed with pedestrians
4. Natural landscapes
5. Anything outside U.S. borders
6. People on bicycles
7. Immediate family including parents, wives, and children
10. Shadows for their own sake
11. Friends, including other photographers
12. Interior domestic scenes
13. Decay/Entropy/Death
14. U.S. racial minorities with the exception of African-Americans
15. Any scene that would look the same one second later
2. Roads/paths running toward the horizon
3. Posters ironically juxtaposed with pedestrians
4. Natural landscapes
5. Anything outside U.S. borders
6. People on bicycles
7. Immediate family including parents, wives, and children
8. Clocks, calendars, the sun, or any other physical representation of time
9. 99% of Americans alive during his lifetime
11. Friends, including other photographers
12. Interior domestic scenes
13. Decay/Entropy/Death
14. U.S. racial minorities with the exception of African-Americans
15. Any scene that would look the same one second later
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)" Tags: "Winogrand"
Date: Saturday, 27 Apr 2013 08:59
A week afterward Alec Soth's lecture last Friday is still reverberating in my head. I'd been told beforehand that he never gives the same talk twice, that he's loose with structure, maybe even approaching ADD in his fondness for wandering. So I wasn't sure what to expect beforehand. Still, I don't think I'ver ever seen a lecture quite like that one. I'm not even sure if lecture is the right word. It was more of a one hour brainstorming session. The only thing missing were chairs pulled into a circle and mugs of herb tea.
Soth set the stage with roughly 10 minutes of prepared remarks, but those few minutes were key. He explained that 1) The world is awash in photographs, and 2) He uses narrative to sort it all out. It wasn't a complaint so much as a strategy, one that's helped lay the framework for Sleeping By the Mississippi, Niagara, Broken Manual, the LBM Dispatches, all of his projects really. And it's served as a filter through which he can analyze other photo projects. If they don't follow a narrative he can set them aside. I don't know if that worldview works for everyone, but for him it does. To reinforce the narrative theme, Soth showed a few applications for his upcoming summer camp "Storytelling For Socially Awkward Artists" before opening it up to questions from the audience.
Many people lecture with the aid of a laptop nowadays, but it's usually implemented as a simple slide projector. Image 1, image 2, image 3, etc. Soth expanded this into a sort of meta-slide show. A large screen behind him displayed a continuous view of his computer desktop. We were shown inside folders and programs and given a full and free-ranging view of his thought process as he wondered out loud and looked for various files. It was a bit like a laptop therapy session, fully transparent and almost uncomfortably vulnerable.
Soth loves lists. His former business card is one long list, and I think he uses lists to guide his photo projects, not exactly as checklists but as rough guides. So he opened the lecture with a list. I think it was called Portland Lecture 4/19 or something similar, though I don't remember exactly. There was The Eggleston Question. Robert Adams Vs. Weegee, John Cage and Ping Pong, Looking For Love, etc. There were about 15 items total but I could only write a few down before he was on to something else. Most of them remained unexplored. Each time someone asked a question it would trigger some brainstorm that he'd already considered. A folder on his desktop listed a few hundred of them roughly by topic. And inside each one were the bare bone graphics supporting a small train of thought. We'd watch him dig around through various files until he found the proper one, then launch into a 5 minute presentation. Adams/Weegee triggered one, as did Eggleston. We never got to John Cage and Ping Pong.
For someone so focused on narrative, the lecture came off as something approaching the opposite. It took its structural cue from narrative's enemy, Hyperlinking. That's the form of the web and the trending structure of much creative content. So it felt comfortable as an organizational form. But I'd never seen a lecture organized that way, and in such a relaxed and fluid fashion. If he gave the same talk the next night it might be completely different, just as every web surf has its own unique sequence.
Soth signed books afterward. The surrounding frenzy was more like a celebrity sighting than art talk. The sold out crowd bustled around his small table, jockeying for position, shooting snapshots and acting like the Beatles were in town. I talked to one guy who'd driven 6 hours to see him. I squeezed off a few frames from about 20 feet away, which was as close as I could get. Then I huddled with some friends and descended on a nearby bar where we tried to remember what was on that Portland Lecture list. I messaged Soth the next day to see if he'd send me a copy but never heard back. I guess I'll have to make up my own story about what was on it.
 |
| Alec Soth lecture therapy (not in Portland), photo by Burn Away |
Many people lecture with the aid of a laptop nowadays, but it's usually implemented as a simple slide projector. Image 1, image 2, image 3, etc. Soth expanded this into a sort of meta-slide show. A large screen behind him displayed a continuous view of his computer desktop. We were shown inside folders and programs and given a full and free-ranging view of his thought process as he wondered out loud and looked for various files. It was a bit like a laptop therapy session, fully transparent and almost uncomfortably vulnerable.
 |
| Soth's card: Topics for discussion? |
For someone so focused on narrative, the lecture came off as something approaching the opposite. It took its structural cue from narrative's enemy, Hyperlinking. That's the form of the web and the trending structure of much creative content. So it felt comfortable as an organizational form. But I'd never seen a lecture organized that way, and in such a relaxed and fluid fashion. If he gave the same talk the next night it might be completely different, just as every web surf has its own unique sequence.
Soth signed books afterward. The surrounding frenzy was more like a celebrity sighting than art talk. The sold out crowd bustled around his small table, jockeying for position, shooting snapshots and acting like the Beatles were in town. I talked to one guy who'd driven 6 hours to see him. I squeezed off a few frames from about 20 feet away, which was as close as I could get. Then I huddled with some friends and descended on a nearby bar where we tried to remember what was on that Portland Lecture list. I messaged Soth the next day to see if he'd send me a copy but never heard back. I guess I'll have to make up my own story about what was on it.
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Wednesday, 24 Apr 2013 17:08
•
One of those days when I shoot for several hours and head home with near certainty that I have nothing but a bunch of shit on the memory card. It's during these keeper-less times that I'll grumble to myself, curse the camera, the light, the focal length of my lens, my potential subjects and myself. The black cloud descends. What's the point? What's the use?
I got off the 7 train right by my pad and noticed that they finally, finally closed the Crossroads Diner. I mean, it was no wonder. Talk about a shit house! Some of the most dreadful meals I've had in my life. I ate there all the time.
Anyhow, I figured now with the sun in the right place, it was time to get a few pics of the joint. As I approached I noticed the wind blowing the bag about. That scene in American Beauty crossed my mind, but I was undeterred. I made a few frames and walked home.
•
This one was shot in Bryant Park in mid-town Manhattan, a five minute subway ride from my neighborhood. It was a favorite I-don't-feel-like-venturing-far lazy day location for me back in 2004. I had just purchased the same 60mm macro lens that Martin Parr used for his Common Sense series. A great piece of kit that can also be used as a normal lens. Also, quite an investment for me at the time. So I had to find something to photograph with it.
I was hanging out, probably shooting some chess players or sunbathers when I happened to glance down and catch these two in action. I figured...why not?
•
I was killing time on Delancey Street, waiting for the man, when I noticed that New Roma Pizza was shuttered. This created a huge swath of red that wrapped around the corner. When I see big colors like this, I run to them like a fly to shit, arms flailing and eyes rolling back in my head like marbles.
I waited for a bit, making a few frames, when this family in red came strolling down the street. I have to say I wish I'd caught these folks with a bit more grace and precision. But this one will have to do.
•
I often pick a neighborhood to explore with my camera based on what I'd like to have for lunch. This day I decided on the Mini-Star Diner in Astoria. I don't know why I'm attracted to that joint. It's far from special (good fries though) and there are far far better and more interesting places to chow in the neighborhood. But this was a Mini-Star day.
I had just gotten out of the train when I spotted the fella in the cherry-picker. Figured there's a photo in there somewhere. I saw the bird and the idea seemed obvious. After, I thought, well that's kind of silly but so what, right? Now I look at it and appreciate the tenacity of these pay phones more than anything. Either way, that was the shot of that day.
•
I don't think there's a day that goes by when I don't have the desire to fit McDonalds into a photo somehow. The iconography, the food, the patrons, there is so much potential there. Here though, I was probably just following the light, which on Winter days at lunchtime shoots straight up the avenues of Manhattan. During the Summer, in the evening hours, the light shines across town through the side-streets. Just so you know.
Anyhow, first I spotted the well-lit dude devouring his Big Mac with some serious intent. I framed him up, made a few exposures, when Garry tapped me on the shoulder and reminded me to tilt the frame. Which was just in time for guy not having a good day to walk into the frame and complete this picture of current and future indigestion.
Every New York street photographer has to make a pilgrimage to Coney Island at one point or another. It's a must, not because there is some unwritten rule but because Coney is a very generous location. There's an image to be made everywhere you look. Go. You will see.
Anyhow, I was shooting blanks all afternoon. I was ready to tear what's left of my hair out, when I ran into Bruce Gilden and his wife. I had a little chat with them and got to see Bruce in action. This was a not so small consolation in lieu of good photographs.
Feeling like a mo, I headed to Ruby's Bar for a few beers. I made some friends while sucking back budz and listening to doo wop and Billy Joel on the juke. The sun started to set. Well buzzed, I made my way to the train. I sat down in the car and made this picture.
•
I hadn't been downtown to shoot in a long long time. I use to work in the area, so it's very familiar ground for me. But on this day everything seemed totally fresh and new. The air was cool and dry, the light was brilliant--which always inspires.
I was covering a lot of ground, feeling good, even making some frames that I was happy with. Having fun. I headed into the local Au Bon Pain for a piss break. I was standing in line (probably with my face in the phone), waiting my turn, when I happened to look up and saw this fellow lit just so. I got the connection between the lamp and the light straight away and made three frames before this gent moved on and it was my turn in the lav.
•
The thing with shooting on the streets is, you've just got to believe. I mean, inevitably you will go through stretches of searingly painful soul crushing disappointment. Hours of walking about that add up to nothing more than corns on the foot. When I'm going through these dry spells, I comfort myself by imagining that I'm just laying the down-payment for future luck. After all, with no pain there's no gain. Ya gotta be in it to win it.
I was losing faith one afternoon when I spotted the red arrow. I thought, well that's nice but what else? Ok, I'll frame it up and see what happens. I didn't have to wait more than a minute for the gentleman in red to make his way by.
Just goes to show you.. something.
•
Like most New Yorkers, I hate Times Square. I usually do my best to avoid the area. I'm not saying anything new when I note that It's an over-crowded, overly commercial cheezfest, jammed with tourists running about like chickens with the head cut off. Having said that, I do catch films now and again at one of the multi-multi-plexes on 42nd street. I had just gotten out of a show, had some time to kill, so I said sod it and decided to have a go at the area.
I was going through one of my (what I would now label as ill-advised) creamy bokeh adventure phases. I thought the lights of the square could look quite cool at 1.4.
I'm on a budget when I shoot film, every frame counts. There are no spraying and praying strategies that can indulged in like with digital. I loitered for quite a bit before I found the right subject. I think I chose wisely. I love this lady. She says it all for me.
•
September of 2005. For various reasons, mostly personal, I was not having a good time during this era. I kind of woke up one day and realized I was an adult (!?), that life had started a while back but I hadn't been paying attention. Where have I been, where am I going? This was also the end of a very productive photographic period, I was feeling burnt out creatively. Maybe I had nothing more to say with the camera? I became frustrated and distracted.
This picture was made in Forest Hills, the neighborhood I grew up in. Specifically, this is the ritzy part of town, known as Forest Hills Gardens. With privately owned tree-lined streets and multi-million dollar English Tudor style houses. I've been drawn to this area throughout my life. First as a little kid taking afternoon walks with my Oma, later as a teen with friends horsing about, drinking beer and smoking dope. Even later just as a place to walk, think and chill out.
I was chilling with the camera this day, unenthusiastically pointing it at the ground or at the clouds when I spotted this guy sitting on a lawn looking just as out of sorts as I felt. I ran across the street and quickly took the shot. I didn't pick up the camera for five years after I made that frame.
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)" Tags: "What Was He Thinking?"
Date: Monday, 22 Apr 2013 16:24
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)"
Date: Wednesday, 17 Apr 2013 15:45
My backordered copy of Jason Eskenazi's The Americans List finally arrived a few days ago, and I've been slowly pouring through it. It is a dense book, 83 pages exactly (!) of thick text printed at maybe 4 pt fontsize. I can only do 4 or 5 pages at a time before I get brainfreeze. I know what you're thinking. Ugh! Do we really need another book about The Americans? How many is that now? And how many blog posts? Trust me, none of them are quite like this one. For starters, this one is only a few bucks and fits in a pocket.Like The Americans, there are all sorts of ways to interpret this little volume. I think Eskenazi's intention is probably as an homage to Frank's book. By getting various photographers to speak about their personal connection to various photographs, the cumulative effect is revelatory. This is the inside dope on The Americans. What makes it tick? What parts do people react to and why?
As a casual fan I am amazed at how vividly I can recall most of these images. I'm not a huge Frank-o-phile, just your average photojunkie. The Americans isn't even a particular favorite of mine. But its photographs have penetrated photo culture, and even someone like me, to the point where a simple number and description brings to mind pretty much every photo. If I say Trolley, Elevator, or Diner Waitress you all know exactly what I'm talking about. So for just about every photographer, this book is personal.
Nevertheless the stat junkie in me wants to use the book is as raw scientific data. Granted, the results aren't strictly scientific. I have no idea how Eskenazi chose his sample pool or which portion responded. But the sheer mammoth feat of polling and compiling all of this data in one place provides a very rich resource. I don't think any poll this large has been conducted before on any photo book, and certainly not one involving so many prominent photographers. Probably the closest example I can think of is Building a Photographic Library published by Texas Photographic Society in 2001. I wrote a little about it back in 2010. That book, also a gold mine of data, compiled lists of favorite photobooks by a wide range of photographers with brief personal descriptions. The runaway choice for most popular book, not surprisingly, was The Americans.
Data miners will want to pay closest attention to the first 6 pages in The Americans List. This is where Eskenazi lists all of the photographers together with their choices, matched to plate number and brief description. It's an informative data set but also a fairly static one, with no cross-referencing or analysis. But it didn't take long for me to do a simple tabulation of the results. Here are the book's most popular photos, according to Eskenazi's data (276 votes cast):
(28 votes, including Venessa Winship, George Georgeiou, Donald Weber, Christopher Anderson, Jeff Jacobson, and Graciela Iturbide)
(24 votes, including Paul Fusco, James Nachtwey, and Ed Kashi, Carl de Keyzer, Bruno Barbey, Donna Ferrato, and Wolfgang Zurborn)
(16 votes, including Alex Webb, Paolo Pellegrin, Antonin Kratochvil, Juliana Beasley, David Carol, Gerry Badger, and Amy Elkins)
(15 votes, including Bruce Gilden, Alec Soth, Mark Cohen, Bertien van Manen, and Christian Patterson)
(12 votes, including Jeff Mermelstein, Bill Owens, Moises Saman, and Richard Sandler)
(11 votes, including David Turnley, Alex Majoli, and Jon Lowenstein)
(10 votes, including Eugene Richards, Nikos Ecomopoulous, Ernesto Bazan, Misha Erwitt, and Boogie)
(9 votes, including Mary Ellen Mark and Carolyn Drake, )
(9 votes, including John Vink, Cary Conover, and Anders Petersen)
(9 votes, including Larry Fink and Peter van Agtmael)
(9 votes, including Luc Delahaye, Martin Parr, Charles Traub, Ben Lowy, and Robert Frank himself)
That's 152 votes for the top 11 photos, leaving the other 72 photos to fight over the remaining 124 votes. Seventeen photos received just one vote and twenty-six received none at all. That's more than half the book which isn't attracting much attention.
I suppose any random sampling will clump in similar patterns. But I found the wide variation intriguing. Maybe if these results were known to Frank during editing he would've left out the non-memorable ones. Department Store, Lincoln, Nebraska, anyone? Or maybe it's just the opposite. Maybe the non-favorites serve as required filler to balance the strong photos. They're like the 99% of our DNA which is nonfunctional, yet still seems to be vital for some unknown reason.
Here are the voting results in chart form. Reading left to right it's like an EKG of the book's progression, showing which ones excite and which don't. Or maybe it's like the skyline of Manhattan where Frank was living in the 1950s.
First, I don't think it's any accident that many people chose Plate 83 as their favorite. One, it's a great photograph. It sums up the road trip, shows us Frank's immediate environment, and personalizes all the preceding images. So people would probably remember U.S. 90 wherever it was in the book. But I suspect it's even more memorable simply because it's last. I've written before about final images and how that's a very powerful position in any editing sequence. It's the one that sticks in your mind later, because there's nothing afterward to clear it out of there. If photo books came with palate cleansers like a wine tasting, I'm not sure Plate 83 would garner the same vote tally.
Plate 18 (2nd in voting) also intrigues me. For several editions of the book, this image serves as the cover image, and I think that position probably guarantees it some memorability. Several of the voters who chose this image declined to write about their choice, which leads me to suspect it's a subconscious choice. They've seen the book a lot, that image is always front and center, and when some poll comes along it's the first one that pops into their head.
My edition (3rd SCALO, 1995) shows Plate 1, Hoboken Parade on the cover (7th in voting), a photo which is also on the cover of Looking In by Sarah Greenough. And of course it is the first photo in the book which probably helps implant it in many brains. I have to say I don't get much out of either of these images (Plates 18 and 1). So maybe I'm just looking for plausible ways to explain their popularity.
There was a story a few years ago about the lady in Plate 44 (3rd in voting) discovering herself years later in Frank's book. Very touching, and who knows? Maybe it helped propel that image up the rankings a little.
Plate 26 (4th in voting) is one that I've run through the wringer on B. When I first viewed The Americans many years ago, this one gave me the most trouble. Because I couldn't figure out what the heck it was doing there. A damn hotel room window? WTF? It makes more sense now. In fact I think I like it just for that reason, because it's such an unlikely image, especially for that time. When I wrote about it a few years ago I wasn't sure what the story was behind Soth's rephotograph. But now I see that it is Soth's favorite and that he probably sought it out.
I've found myself examining the lists of who voted for which photo and trying to draw some connection between them. Is it a coincidence that Parr and Frank chose the same photo? Or Mark Cohen and Bruce Gilden? Or Fusco and Nachtwey? What joins them? Or is it just a matter of odds?
Oh well. I guess I'm being too analytical. Trying to turn The Americans into a statistics problem isn't going to help me with the book. It's not going to help me pick a favorite. I don't think I could ever do that.
Author: "Blake Andrews (noreply@blogger.com)" Tags: "Books and book culture"
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