Oncatography: Shadow and Light

Ah, If Only It Were So...

Truth be known, I wish, wish, wish this were true...

Baconface

Cell

Bodysnatchers

It was an ordinary Friday evening...

Diving Into The Inkwell: Posted!

Good morning, fellow humans! In an interesting coincidence, on what is my 50th post here, my photo "End of the Office Party" has been presented today on IndieInk!  Woot! Please go see by clicking here.

 

Happy Wednesday!

Usher/Fall

While walking in the woods, I chanced upon the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe...

Fragments: Self-Portrait

Animals fascinated by mirrors...sometimes the camera catches me unaware, and I am continually surprised.  Outdoors, fascinated by water over rocks, the camera clicks and catches...what?

Too Long Shut: Mind's Eye

I just finished a wonderful little book titled "The Mind's Eye: Writings on Photography and Photographers"* by Henri Cartier-Bresson.  Cartier-Bresson was one of the founders of Magnum Photos and, as I found out, is considered by many to be the father of modern photojournalism.  Personally, I knew very little of this until I read the book.  The book itself doesn't say much about those achievements, but curiosity led me into some research.

That I did not know so much of his history turned out to be thematically linked to much of what I read.  Much of what I read, in turn, gave me a much needed shot in the arm regarding my current state of mind on my photography.

I suppose it was confirmations of suspicions I had, or feelings and hunches, yet had no confidence to say them aloud or believe what I was thinking.  The best thing I took away from Mind's Eye was a soothing of my fears relative to my own lack of technical education in photography.  To wit, the very first sentence in the book:

Photography has not changed since its origins except in its technical aspects, which for me are not a major concern.

Bless you, monsieur.

I admit, sometimes I feel sorely inadequate when discussing or dealing with the technical aspects of photography.  I lack depth when it comes to adjustments, metering, stops and most arcana involving developing and finishing prints.  There is always more to learn.  I know my finished product could gain some gloss and dazzle if I really studied the camera as object and the theory of light.  Cartier-Bresson himself was a skilled technician.

But I think he knew deep down, that the essence of photography was not to be found in the science of the thing.  It resides somewhere else, in a place I realized I have been searching for after seeing it framed thusly, in his own words:

My passion has never been for photography "in itself," but for the possibility -- through forgetting yourself -- of recording in a fraction of a second the emotion of the subject, and the beauty of the form; that is, a geometry awakened by what's offered.

Ah, satori.  For someone who prides himself for skill with words and language, I have been remarkably unable to put into words just what it is I am pursuing with the camera.  Even after reading that little gem, I'm still unsure I truly "got" it.  What I do know is that reading it that way, I felt an internal "unlocking" telling me that I was on the right track.

It told me that the voices in my head, that mini-Greek chorus singing about art, were not just spinning me a tale; they were telling me that I could trust my instincts even if those instincts didn't appear to have a firm foundation in facts.

I say all this because in my other life as an architect,  I placed too much credence on the technical and not enough on the art of it all.  I didn't trust my instincts, and that led me to what amounts to a creative dead-end.  I allowed 'technique' to become the end-all, be-all.  The result is a severe case of impaired creative vision.  Allow Cartier-Bresson to illuminate:

Technique is important only insofar as you must master it in order to communicate what you see. Your own personal technique has to be created and adapted solely in order to make your vision effective on film. [Emphasis mine]

This is my problem and my inspiration: to make my vision effective.  After many years of slowly drifting off the creative track, I believe it is "making pictures", along with writing, that has inspired me to listen to my instincts, to trust my gut about truth and beauty.

I want to see all that I can, and make it vision.

*First edition US, 1999, by the Aperture Foundation. Please note that the above is strictly based on my own personal thoughts and observations, reflecting the overheated workings of my curious, restless mind.  In other words, neither Aperture nor the HCB Foundation paid me or otherwise reimbursed me for writing this essay.  Inspiration, pure and simple.

Fluid Dynamics and Art: Flow with Phil Nesmith

Through the good graces of my friend Anita Knight, I was invited to attend an opening last Saturday night at the Irvine Contemporary Gallery in Washington, D.C.  The opening was for an exhibition of works by two artists, one of whom is a friend of my friend, by name of Phil Nesmith.  The exhibition is titled Phil Nesmith:Flow, and is a series of photographic plates chronicling parts of the oil spill disaster and cleanup down in Louisiana.  You may not find that remarkable in and of itself, given all the media coverage, but Phil works using a fascinating photographic process that was cutting edge...in the 1850's.  It's called 'wet-plate collodion' photography and in the right hands it produces amazing works of art.

Phil's hands are the right hands, I can attest to that after having seen the works up close.  I also had the pleasure of meeting and talking with Phil, who is an interesting fellow with a lot of enthusiasm and understanding of his craft.  He kindly answered my questions, and even demonstrated part of the process for me.  If you are an equipment geek and like a frisson of danger about creating art, this may be a process you would enjoy!  It takes a lot of skill and care to manipulate glass plates and dangerous chemicals, but as I mentioned above, in the right hands you get amazing art.  I didn't take any closeups of the pictures themselves, because I wanted Phil's work to speak for itself (which it does quite well).  Please follow the links above for more on Flow, and you can see more of his amazing work at Phil Nesmith - Photographic Artist. I can particularly recommend the gallery titled "My Baghdad", although its all good.

Snapshots at an Exhibition

Phil is the fellow with the cap, in the middle

Good Times at the Irvine Contemporary

Magnificent Tool of the Trade, Kickin' It Old School