I spend most of my days in my studio. This is the benefit of remote working. As long as my laptop is open, emails rolling in, numerous Zoom meeting, etc… I am “on the clock.” The advantage of having all of my art supplies readily available is a blessing and a curse. My studio space resembles my brain in many ways. Sometimes I need to turn it off, which in this case means randomly pulling “work in progress” off the walls, so I can stop thinking about THE WORK for at least a little while. The upside of working in this environment is that I can dabbler with an idea at anytime, and garner quick results, via Lightroom and my decent Canon printer. Case in point, I got a bug up my ass yesterday about my ongoing boredom with “straight” photography. At the same time, complete abstraction seems too easy sometimes, or just a plain, self-indulgent mess other times. The problem (not really a problem) with photography in general is that it seems so intrinsically tied to the real world (broad generalization, I know.) Somehow, someway, reality need to peek it’s head into the camera, and onto the subsequent print, or else it drifts into something else, something (primarily) non-photographic. I’ve taken to shooting through prisms lately (as seen last year in full effect in Paris) and I think what I like about the approach (when it works…and often it doesn’t…) is that it breaks just enough from reality, and falls into the territory of “uniqueness.” Reflections and transparency wielded in a barely controllable manner, with a heavy helping of serendipity. It reaps non-repeatable results, for sure. Images that are only by me, for better or for worse. Even dabbling in the studio becomes a journey into unknown territory, and as the above image can attest, sometime the results are magic.
Manifesto
A few months back I wrote up a list of my creative beliefs. These were relevant only to me, and only for that given moment. The more I sat with the list, and let it gestate, the more I liked it as a sort of ad hoc manifesto. You know, all the great movements seem to have a manifesto. Karl Marx had his; Martin Luther nailed his to the church door. The Situationists, the Dadaists… hell, even my therapist helped me focus on a Dharma code…a spiritual, intention focussing manifesto, so to speak.
I have this current manifesto stuck to my studio wall, and also have it as my laptop wallpaper, so I look at it on a regular basis. I incorporated different influences; some from improv, some from my therapy, some from my art studies, and some from my rage and depression (if I’m being 100% transparent, which I am…)
I thought I’d share it here, in hopes that it pushes you, dear reader, to consider your own creative, personal, expressive values.
Some thoughts on each:
“Inactivity is not laziness.” There is great value in doing nothing, and if given the time and space, to do nothing for as long as possible.
“Destruction is creation.” I cribbed this from Picasso, thought I think it is a biblical idiom originally. It really rings true for me, especially in regards to my art practice over the past couple of years.
“Give things away.” Sharing my thoughts, my words, my blog, my podcast, my zines, my photos is an integral part of my interaction with my muse and with my world.
“Expect no reward.” Money, fame, and validation are all fine and good, but I try to create (and to live) with no expectations of profit, monetary or otherwise.
“Expect no audience.” No one gives a shit about you and your artwork. Make it anyway.
“Make boredom valuable.” Much of life is underwhelming, if not outright mind-numbing drudgery. Use this reality as fodder for thinking of things to create.
“Make something every day.” Take a photo, write a note, sing a song, bake a loaf of bread. One creative act a day keeps the wolves at bay.
“Remain curious.” Hard to be bored when there is wonder all around you.
“Say ‘Yes, and…’’ ” As in improv, so in life. Agree and add to other ideas. Saying “no” ends all potential immediately.
“Be the ‘you’ the world needs.” A bit woo woo, a bit snowflakey, but I don’t care. You were born, you’ll die. Be the best version of yourself you can be.
“Live until you die.” Like they say in Shawshank Redemption…. Didn’t realize it was a Stephen King quote.
2021:47 In Purgatory
A quiet, long holiday weekend in the mountains of Colorado. Quiet, cold, some snow. A hot tub and sauna and plenty of attitude adjusters. Purgatory isn’t so bad, when caught between heaven and hell.
2020: 6 (Film and Apple Pie)
Shooting film is very much like making an apple pie. You put so much effort into assembling the correct balance of ingredients, but you still have to wait for it to bake… and cool, before you even know if it tastes good or not.
In the world of “instant everything, order your food, your groceries, week, post text, chat, I want it now, I will not wait, I demand satisfaction” it is an almost meditative, zen like practice to shoot film. You don’t see what you get while you shoot. You aren’t sure if your film is even being exposed correctly. You have to wait until your film is developed before you see any results. And then, if you are like me and you scan your film, it is a longer process of scanning before the final, positive images pop up on my monitor.
Why do I do this? It slows me down, makes my shooting feel more intentional. The extra investment of time and money makes me value each image just a little bit more. I wait in anticipation to finally se my photos. Like waiting for a gift to arrive, or waiting for a stew to simmer on a stovetop for a few hours. It heightens my anticipation and makes the payoff more worthwhile every time. Even if my film is underexposed, or out of focus, or boring, or not “sharable.” It still have more substance to it.
If anyone would like to swap a nice apple pie for a few rolls of film, give me a shout.
2019: 31 (Grateful)
There’s a quote by Kurt Vonnegut that I try to keep in mind… “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.” It’s a reminder that we all need to stop and recognize the sweet things in life, right in the moment. There is much pain and sadness in life, and in the world right now, so I am even more aware of savoring the good things that come to me. Yesterday was one of those times for me. After two years of working on a collaborative project, the fruits of our labor were finally shared with the world. “The River, The Ocean, The Sea” exhibition is now on view at the Open Space Visitor’s Center in Albuquerque, NM, until September 29th. Below are some great photos of the opening by my photo pal, Dan Shaffer.
I am particularly grateful for the support of my friends through this entire project. Many people stepped up to contribute to the GoFundMe campaign, and that financial support helped offset the cost of printing and framing the exhibition. I was beyond thrilled to see so many of these same folks show up at the opening yesterday, along with many other people who spent time viewing the work. I am so, so grateful for such wonderful friends in my life. Thank you all.
Also, thank you to the great staff at the Open Space Gallery for giving me a venue to share the work. Thank you to KRQE for doing a nice story about the show on their broadcast yesterday.
Thank you to Clarke Conde and the Weekly Alibi for putting me on their front cover and running a wonderful interview. Thank you especially to my collaborators Fabio Miguel Roque and Hean Kuan Ong for sharing your vision with me. I am so proud of what we accomplished together.
“If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”
Worth A Thousand Words: William Klein
photo © William Kein, 1959.
I am in transit as I write this, on my way to the East Coast for some family time and some much-needed beach time. That doesn’t excuse me from my weekly photo criticism exercise. If anything, I think it will bring an additional degree of insight to this week’s image. This week I will be looking at a photograph by one of the true masters of twentieth century photography, William Klein. As always, if you have any questions or comments, please don’t hesitate to leave a comment at the end of this entry.
A little of the backstory on Klein is appropriate, to start. Though he is American-born, William Klein is best known as a French photographer, having been living in Paris since he was stationed there by the US Army. He attended the Sorbonne in 1948, and though he originally was a painter, it was his filmmaking and photography that brought him great acclaim. His notable photo work ranges from groundbreaking fashion work, particularly his shooting for Vogue in the 1950s, as well as his highly influential book of photographs “New York” from 1954. If there is a style of his that I am most drawn to, it is this work, scenes of street life…frenetic and chaotic, highly contrasted and grainy. Klein has produced a series of books that crucial contributions to the art form, in addition to “New York” he has focused on Paris, Rome, Tokyo, and most notable to this critique, Moscow.
The photograph I’m writing about is a wonderful study in the contrast of emotions, while also being a textbook example of compositional intent. So, what do I see? It is a black and white photograph, with three people fairly-evenly distributed in the frame. It looks as though this photo was taken in the summer, perhaps at a resort, near a lake or a forest, judging by the environment. In the far background is an older, heavy set woman, who looks to be drying off on a park bench. In the middle of the frame, we see an older gentleman, sitting in a beach chair. In the foreground is a young woman, a broad grin on her face, her body slightly hunched over, leaning in towards the photographer. Each person is separated from the others by a strong, vertical element: a pole or a tree. Let’s take a closer look at each of these individuals, and how they relate to each other.
The woman in the far background is looking towards the camera, aware of the photographer, but she is somewhat out of focus, so her expression is a bit hard to judge. However, I believe her presence helps bring additional tension to the photograph. We can then shift our gaze to the older man in the center of the image. He looks as though he might be asleep, or at least dozing off. I wonder if he was at all aware of the photographer. Did he close his eyes and bring his hand to his face as a reaction to Klein’s presence? Is the presence of the young woman affecting him at all? Or, as I said, perhaps he is asleep, and lost in what may be a tense or disturbing dream.
If we now look closely at the young woman on the left, there is so much to explore and consider. She is the youngest person we see, by far. Is she somehow related to the other two? Are they her grandparents? She is a contrast to them in every way. She is vivacious, excited, and obviously fully aware that her picture is being taken. Her hair is stylish for the time-period, and her bathing suit is a bikini, which popularly swept the world in a fashion craze around this time. Some might judge her appearance a somewhat risqué for when the photo was taken, although the fact that she is young makes sense that she would be wearing a bikini, in comparison to the attire of her elders. Her bare shoulders lean forward, and her top looks to be hanging quite low. There is a fold of flesh along her tummy, accentuated by her lean towards the camera. The most compelling thing about her appearance though, to me eyes, is her mouth. Is she smiling at us? Is she grimacing? It seems her expression could fall somewhere between the two. Her teeth are even, but it is her gums that really grab my attention.
The image is dated in 1959, which is the first clue to a bit of deeper meaning, at least to American eyes. These were the days when the US and the Soviet Union were in full Cold War mode. The former WW2 allies were creeping further and further apart, with mutual suspicion ruling the mindset of each. While the 1950s, in the United States and most of the West, were seen as the heyday and triumph of a burgeoning youth culture, we were led to believe that the life of those living under communism in the east was subpar and stunted. Can this attitude help solve the intrigue surrounding this photograph then? We see a scene of a clear generation gap. The old ways giving way to a very different “new.” A young, stylish, bikini-clad woman, trying to express some freedom, some sexuality, while confined to the recreational world of her elders. We are peeking behind the “Iron Curtain” through the eyes of Mr. Klein. We are seeing a world, we probably misunderstood, at best, and were suspicious of, at worst. Yet, we see people no different than those probably vacationing in the shore of some American lake at the same time this photo was taken. We are more the same than we are different. Young people everywhere look to distinguish themselves from previous generations. Old folks shrug, shake their heads, when trying to understand the desires and interests of the younger generation. This is what I see when I gaze at this image.
As a footnote to this critique, I’d like to share a story. Once, in the late 1990s, while shopping in a Salvation Army thrift store on 23rd Street in New York City, I found a poster for a Klein exhibition in 1981. The poster features this same photograph. I framed it and it still hangs in my home office today, sitting right above my desk. I never tire of looking at it, and I continue to be inspired by the great work of William Klein.
Looking For America
I'll skip the pleasantries and the patriotic banter this year. "United We Stand, Divided We Fall"?
Words to Ponder
My photos, above. Not my words, below.
“Of all the means of expression, photography is the only one that fixes forever the precise and transitory instant. We photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing, and when they have vanished, there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again. We cannot develop and print a memory. The writer has time to reflect. He can accept and reject, accept again; and before committing his thoughts to paper he is able to tie the several relevant elements together. There is also a period when his brain “forgets,” and his subconscious works on classifying his thoughts. But for photographers, what has gone, has gone forever. From that fact stem the anxieties and strength of our profession.”