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Posted at 12:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Our Place in History
I guess I've ruffled a few feathers with my comments about the importance of photographic history. This is an important idea for me, so I'd like to expand and perhaps explain my perspective.
It is an almost irresistible temptation for every generation to see itself isolated from the flow of history — or if not isolated, then at least separated from it by the eternal now. As individuals, it's not uncommon for our perspective on history to be tied to our personal memories — that is, history for us begins with our birth, and all that preceded us is some dusty tale as it were "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." (That's a quote from history — Shakespeare, by the way.) We live in the eternal now and our "now" does not include all of the "now" that preceded us. At least that's the unconscious, intuitive feeling that every generation has. I have it, my grandfather had it, my grandson has it — it's human nature to feel this way. Of course, as tempting as this feeling of isolation in the "now" may be, it's simply erroneous. History is real, even if the historical narrative that describes it for us is not — but that's another story, and not my main point.
For artists, history is particularly important — perhaps more so than for the average human experience. You see, history is slightly more alive for us than it is for others because we have, as a part of our "now," the artifacts that have been left behind by the artists who preceded us. Their lives may have preceded us, but their artwork is still with us, here, available for each generation to understand and learn from. A part of Weston is alive through his work — one of the magical qualities of art.
I've always felt a part of a sort of "Grand Photography" as though it were a living, breathing entity. This entity is lasting, born in 1839 but now immortal, growing, changing, ever expanding. Each generation of photographers since its birth plays its part in Photography's maturity, passing down their inheritance to the next generation like the proverbial torch. We inherited this thing called Photography from countless practitioners who refined the craft, the aesthetic, the use, the understanding, the methodologies, and in doing so shaped this living, growing thing that it is now our turn to nurture. We will hand it down to future generations, slightly different — perhaps substantially different — than the photography we inherited. We may serve it well, we may injure it, but I suspect we will not be the judge of our impact because that will require a perspective that will only be available after we're gone.
That perspective is the one we now have looking at the previous generations. From the perspective of history, how could it be said that Emerson, Atgét, Stieglitz, Weston, Adams, Cartier-Bresson, Frank, et al failed in their responsibility to carry the torch? We can't because their contributions in the flow of Photography's history were so substantial, so nurturing, such a contribution to us. To us. They all made their photographs for us. Do we not realize what a gift this is?
And, it's not just their photographs. In their turns, each made contributions which is made photography the wonderfully expressive and powerful force it is today – an inheritance we have a responsibility to treasure. More than that, we have an opportunity — and a responsibility — to that inheritance. As individuals, each of us has our opportunity to "strut our hour upon the stage," (Shakespeare, again) but when our hour is over the play continues with new players. The unfolding of that Grand Photography continues. We carry the torch for a very limited time. We make our photographs and our contributions for others not yet even a twinkle in their great-great-great grandfather's eye.
It is not accidental that we chose the name "LensWork" for our publication. From its very inception, we hoped we could escort that torch of Grand Photography a little further down the road begun by Alfred Stieglitz in his publication, Camera Work. That torch was picked up and carried a further down history's path by Minor White and his publication Aperture. We modeled our publication after theirs. We hoped we could add something to that grand tradition that would be useful not just for contemporary photographers, but also to future ones. We hoped we could produce something of our time that might give future generations an opportunity to glimpse back in their history to the photography we are living — precisely as we can when we experience the 1910s through Camera Work or those early Aperture publications from the 1950s. It is that sense of historic flow that is the foundation and inspiration for everything we do here at LensWork.
History is important — history is inspiration; history is a foundation on which we stand; history is an opportunity to learn from the wisdom of others so that we don't have to make their same mistakes; history is a background that informs our work. My sense of gratitude and responsibility to the photographers of history is more profound than I can express in mere words. Without them, this great passion that defines my life would not exist. I cannot imagine how different my life would be if — just to name one — Edward Weston has never existed. Perhaps that explains why I find it so important for young photographers to know something about the history of photography — and why I am incensed when they don't seem to care about it.
Brooks' books on photography and the creative process are available in print from Lulu.com, and as eBooks for Kindle or EPUB readers. As one of the membership benefits, these eBooks are available in their entirety to members of LensWork Online via download.
Posted at 10:05 AM in Random Thoughts | Permalink | Comments (1)
June 2012 Alumni News Now Available
The LensWork Alumni News is a distillation of news and events from photographers whose work you've seen in LensWork and LensWork Extended — people and work that we know you'll be interested in!
This free publication features news from:
Click here to download the June Alumni News pdf (1.7 mb)
Posted at 09:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Cuba: Campo Adentro by Susan S. Bank
From Cuba: Campo Adentro by Susan S. Bank
From LensWork and LensWork Extended #82
© 2009 Susan S. Bank. All rights reserved.
Reproduced with the permission of the photographer.
Commentary
A doctor and his patient. Bare clapboard walls. A donkey. A bed and headboard with a couple of bundles of something unknown. Wait . . . a donkey?
I've looked at this image for a considerable amount of time and I'm not sure I can yet determine precisely what is the subject of the photograph — and that is partly why it so fascinates me. Perhaps the subject is the moment. Perhaps it is the two pairs of hands in mid-gesture. Or, is it the donkey? Is it the donkey's apparent concern for the patient? Is it the parallel between the gaze of the doctor and the gaze of the donkey?
Layer after layer, we peel the proverbial onion and find more and more questions. Just what is in the bundles on the headboard? Are they bundles, or are the cabbages? I'm not too sure. And that solitary object to the left of the bundles — is it another bundle, or something else?
And then there is the obvious question as to the patient's malady. Then, is the doctor diagnosing with this touch or curing by touching?
Photography tends to be a fact-giving thing. Cameras record, film receives, details are preserved. When a photograph presents us with questions as this one does, it is not a function of the camera but rather a function of the photographer's eye. Perhaps I'm just a sucker for these kinds of images, but I'm irresistibly drawn to images that ask more questions than they answer. I think they teach us more about what we see than mere factual photographs.
Then again, perhaps this is more a way of looking at photographs than anything else. Why peppers? Why thirty peppers? Why this particular pepper? I've been doing this my entire photographic life. So, looking at this image by Susan S. Bank, I can't help but ask questions — and she, I think, understands this by not providing too many answers. It encourages us to look with more than a passing glance. That's a fine gift she has given us — and in return we can spend time with her photograph as our gift back to her.
The portfolio can be seen in its entirety in our back issues — print (while still available) and our PDFs for computer, iPad, Android, and other devices. Plus, bonus audio commentary about this image is available to full-access members of LensWork Online.
Discussion
Add your comments and observations to the discussion by using the "Comments" link at the bottom of this post.
Posted at 08:53 AM in Image Discussion | Permalink | Comments (1)
A Milestone, of Sorts
Dylan assured us that "the times they are a-changin'." Alternatively, we are all going to hell in a hand basket.
I had a conversation with a young photographer last week — a recent MFA photography graduate who shall remain nameless. Hopefully forever. I suggested that his work would be seen, compared, and judged in the context of those who had done similar work before him, for example Edward Weston. To which he responded, "Who?" I was nonplussed. How is it possible to have earned an MFA in photography and never heard of Edward Weston? Are they not teaching photographic history anymore? Curious, I asked him. He explained, "It was an elective, but I didn't take it."
I know I must have visibly winced. He looked at me quizzically. I looked back and had visions of the thought bubble floating above his head: "Why teach history when there are so many Photoshop plug-ins to master? History, after all, is about old, unimportant, obsolete, insignificant, inconsequential dead guys." Never in my life have I so desperately wanted an EM pulse gun to aim at a snot-nosed kid's hard drive.
Thank goodness I didn't have an 8x10 view camera on me or I would have bonked him on the head with it. Probably wouldn't have done any harm anyway — there was nothing in there to damage.
QUESTION: Why bother yourself about the archaic world of long-forgotten photographers when there is so much happening that is now? Why concern yourself with images that are so passé when there's a new aesthetic that supplants those banal images of the chemical days? Why study outdated ideas when the world has moved on and left them in the fossil bin next to the dinosaur teeth?
ANSWER: So you are not a stupid, vapid photographic twit.
Brooks' books on photography and the creative process are available in print from Lulu.com, and as eBooks for Kindle or EPUB readers. As one of the membership benefits, these eBooks are available in their entirety to members of LensWork Online via download.
Posted at 02:52 PM in Random Thoughts | Permalink | Comments (31)
In Defense of More Images
It has become a sort of battle cry for some photographers to deride today's digital trend to make lots and lots of images. They remember fondly or even advocate the virtues of returning from a photo outing with only a few images or sheets of exposed film. As an editor, I can tell you with some authority that this is hogwash.
LW0760 - In Defense of More Images
Audio MP3 run time 7:17
This podcast is also available via our RSS feed or via iTunes for your iPod, iPad, or other portable MP3 player.
Our complete podcast library (700+ podcasts and counting!) is available to full-access members of LensWork Online.
Posted at 01:58 PM in Podcast | Permalink | Comments (1)
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Portfolio Reviews – June appointments now available! Personalized One-on-One, 40-Minute or 60-Minute Sessions
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Some Comments About Reviews with Brooks Jensen I was really happy with our eConsultation! Being able to watch as you made changes to my pictures, and to see which tools you used to what effect, were really helpful. Your thoughts about rhythm and syncopation as an approach to achieving balance were instructive. They provided a new way of thinking about that topic that I think will be useful, both in the field and during post processing work. Thanks for a wonderful hour. It set me into the right creative path—I'm excited. WOW, that's more feedback (by about 95%!) than I've ever received. I loved being able to do this review on my iPad. Very useful and easy. Thanks for all the great ideas. |
Posted at 02:55 PM in News & Info | Permalink | Comments (0)
Let Us Be Grateful by Raphael Shevelev
From Let Us Be Grateful by Raphael Shevelev
From LensWork #38
© 2001 Raphael Shevelev. All rights reserved.
Reproduced with the permission of the photographer.
Commentary
It is so easy for us to forget that every photograph we make is an historical document. As we are in the midst of our creative process, making our fine art photographs, playing the "art game," we are simultaneously creating a glimpse into the past that will only be fully appreciated with the passage of time. I've often fantasized about Eugene Atgét's state of mind as he wandered the streets of Paris making those wonderful photographs. We now appreciate his historical glimpses into a Paris that no longer exists. But to him, at that time, he was photographing what did exist and probably could not imagine — at least not fully — the impact that his images would have on us 100+ years later.
This portfolio by Rafael Shevelev, Let Us Be Grateful, was a powerful documentation of the remains of that massive Oakland, California fire in 1991. For him, the fire was not merely an opportunity for documentary, but also touched him personally in that the home of his parents-in-law was completely destroyed. His photographic project was immediate, contemporary, personal. In the 10 years that passed between the time he made the photographs and the time we published them in LensWork, some perspective had become possible. He refers to it in his introduction. Now, over 20 years later — now, when the remnants of that fire have been repaired and recovered — now, when the tragedy that cost the lives of 21 people and some 3000 homes are no longer in the news but have become a distant memory — now, his photographs have become a powerful way for us to remember something that has become completely invisible by the passage of time. Whenever I think about the power of photography in this way, it takes my breath away. Think how we can use these readily available tools to peer backward in time — an impossibility for countless previous generations for whom such magic was completely unimaginable! It almost pains me when today people take photography so much for granted. It is truly magical.
Another aspect of this project from Shevelev is the way in which he demonstrates the cost of this tragedy in human terms. His photographs are almost exclusively of small things, details, things that we would touch in everyday life, things that we would use everyday and even take for granted. This two-page spread from LensWork with a pair of eyeglasses on the left and a charred book on the right tell us so much about the event in ways that larger views may miss. So often I find the most powerful aspects of a photographic project are when it includes details, at least some, to complement the larger more sweeping viewpoints.
More recently we published a similar project by photographer Burk Uzzle in in LensWork Extended #98. It's a testament to the power of details to communicate human emotion that both of these photographers used a similar point of attention and that both have the power to move our emotions. It's an interesting exercise to compare these two projects both of their similarities and for their subtle differences. All photographers and all photographic projects have fellow travelers. I would love to sit in on an evening's conversation with Shevelev and Uzzle as they compared notes, experiences, and showed each other their photographs.
The portfolio can be seen in its entirety in our back issues — print (while still available) and our PDFs for computer, iPad, Android, and other devices. Plus, bonus audio commentary about this image is available to full-access members of LensWork Online.
Discussion
Add your comments and observations to the discussion by using the "Comments" link at the bottom of this post.
Posted at 04:26 PM in Image Discussion | Permalink | Comments (1)
Structure in the Creative Life, Part 5
A brief history of chapbooks and how I've adapted the concept for my own use as a new structure for my artwork.
LW0759 - Structure in the Creative Life Part 5
Audio MP3 run time 9:30
This podcast is also available via our RSS feed or via iTunes for your iPod, iPad, or other portable MP3 player.
Our complete podcast library (700+ podcasts and counting!) is available to full-access members of LensWork Online.
Posted at 04:13 PM in Podcast | Permalink | Comments (0)
Changing Standards in Midstream
When I started photography — I thoroughly dislike starting a sentence like that; it makes me sound like some old geezer reminiscing about "the good old days," which I'm not . . . reminiscing, that is . . . geezer, well, maybe — the high water mark of ultimate image quality was typically the 8x10 view camera. Nothing compared to an 8x10 contact print for sharpness and smooth, grainless tonalities. Smaller cameras and larger prints were always a matter of defining one's acceptable amount of compromise against this high water mark.
Things are not so easy these days. Smaller cameras can present far more detail than the 8x10 behemoths of my youth — with the use of stitching techniques, of course. With digital sharpening, I'm seeing images that exhibit more acuity than the fuzzy masks of our film-day dreams. Color saturations abound, spotless prints are the new norm, and creative cloning presents us all with the balance of ethics versus aesthetics.
The bottom line for me is that the overall quality of photographs I'm seeing has shot up tremendously. This leaves me with an unexpected dilemma: sometimes when I look at the film work of 30 years ago, I'm disappointed with the images because they don't measure up to today's standards. This is an entirely unfair comparison. The images of 100 years ago don't measure up to those of 30 years ago, but we don't chide them for not doing so. We simply consider them a product of their times and the state of technology when they were made. We've invented the term "alternative process" to differentiate these images so we judge them by a different set of standards. I wish I could do this with more contemporary work. I wish I could do this with my work. I can't help but look at some grainy, slightly soft-focused image of a couple dozen years ago and think it falls short. I should think it is a product of 1980s and be less judgmental. I need to work on that.
Posted at 11:34 AM in Technology Blog | Permalink | Comments (3)
Historic Photographs
As a photographer, I'm often consumed with doing my own work. As a publisher, I'm often consumed with the task of preparing and publishing the work of contemporary photographers. As a consumer, the photographs that tend to fascinate me the most are often those from history — but then again that's not saying much since all photographs are "historic photographs" at some point in time.
Just in case you're not aware of them, here are two of my favorite websites for historic photography. I'm surprised how many times these come up in conversation only to discover that one or more parties in the conversation have never heard of either of them. Too bad, because they're both so much fun. Here are the links:
http://livelymorgue.tumblr.com/
Both are highly recommended. Enjoy!
Brooks' books on photography and the creative process are available in print from Lulu.com, and as eBooks for Kindle or EPUB readers. As one of the membership benefits, these eBooks are available in their entirety to members of LensWork Online via download.
Posted at 11:25 AM in Random Thoughts | Permalink | Comments (1)
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