4 posts tagged “art”
- "What do you shoot with?"
- "Are you Canon or Nikon?"
- "Have you tried the latest version of PS?"
- "What printer did you use to make these prints?"
- If you already have a camera that can make a good enough file stop reading magazines that are just trying to make you want to buy new equipment; instead visit a gallery or museum and get inspired. I have a decent camera but I refuse to buy into the idea that I need to buy something twice as expensive again to be taken seriously. There is no camera in the world that will make me a better photographer; I can only achieve that through applying myself to my work.
- Avoid conversations about gear; seak out conversations about art and artists.
- Spend as little time in PhotoShop as you can get away with. Avoid 'playing' with an image in PhotoShop. Instead look at the original file, previsualize what you would like the resulting file to look like, and work out the shortest route from one to the other.
- Stop studying lighting plans, HDR tutorials and ways to make your digital images look like they came out of a Lomo. Instead, study the history of photography, its movements, key players and iconic images.
- Don't be ashamed of shooting digital when everyone tells you that the 'real art' is made using film (or visa versa). It is a pissing match that has no point or end.
I hate those blogs that apologize for not writing or being away. Even more I hate the excuses they proffer to explain their absence; usually something to do with being too busy or real life getting in the way of blogging. Are we d-list bloggers so egocentric as to think that we are missed when we don't write? As a reader of blogs, it's not like I'm going to run out of things to read if even half of the blogs and podcasts I subscribe to stop publishing tomorrow. My RSS reader cup would still runneth over.
I am, therefore, not going to apologize for not having written anything here lately. I am not going to make up excuses for neglecting my photoblog, or for phoning in my project 365 pictures, or for not commenting on my contacts on Flickr. My real world responsibilities were no heavier than usual - I just didn't feel like it. I do not presume I was missed nor am I fishing for comments to the contrary. Let's just say for want of a better explanation, that my creative muse left me for a while.
So what do you do when you consider yourself a creative person but you don't feel like doing anything creative? I save what little creative juice I have to keep creative commitments that are important to me, in this case my photo-a-day project for this year. Even when I didn't feel like it I took a shot each day that I wasn't ashamed of. If this meant reshooting things I'd already shot, so be it. If it meant taking pictures in the same, comfortable vein day after day, then I just rolled with it. There are times to push yourself and there are times to acknowledge your limitations and energy.
In the project365 group I am part of in Flickr we have seen a number of committed members drop out recently. Either they were pushing themselves to try to make an exceptional image everyday that stood a good chance of making explore which is exhausting, or they just tired of the project and it was either to stop than go on. In running parlance we call it 'hitting the wall', or 'bonking', or 'the bear jumping on your back'. Somewhere around mile 18 to 21 of a marathon there's a danger that you will have the overwhelming urge to stop running; this might be because you're trying too hard, or not trying hard enough, or your not well enough prepared. If you want to finish enough you will break through the wall and keep going - if you don't want it enough you'll either walk it in or stop and get a ride in from the sop wagon. If you can dig deep and run it in you're a real runner no matter what your time.
A similar analogy could apply to any long term artistic endeavor. If you want it enough and you can find the energy to keep going even when you want to stop you might learn something about yourself, your talent, your limitations and your strengths. There are mental tricks runners can employ to break through the wall; you try to divert yourself. Instead of counting steps, watching out for mile markers and all the mental arithmetic that goes into working out if you can still make your target time you can sing songs in your head that match the tempo of your steps. You can lift up your head and look around yourself instead of looking inside and down at your feet. You can talk to your peers around you. Before you know it mile 21 is behind you and the finish line is achievable again.
While my muse was MIA I picked up a guitar for the first time in forever and tried to learn something new. I sat down with the books of photographers who I love. I went to the movies. I talked to other photographers about, what else?, photography. My muse didn't come running back, banging on the door begging me to take her back but I can feel her in the house again. Artistically speaking, I'm not going to qualify for Boston but I will run it in.
I'm hoping that we can all soon put the whole recent mess with JPG magazine behind us. The incident, apart from making me feel incredibly sad, got me thinking about the pros and cons of community publishing. This internal debate that was also fueled by recent podcasts I listened to from Switzerland related to the "We're all photographers now" exhibition; one from a panel that included Derek, and the other an interview with a personal hero, Martin Parr.
Let's get the pros out of the way; blurring the lines between consumer and content creator is a great new model that could help to rejuvenate staid print media. You have a built in subscription base because, of course you're going to buy a magazine you are trying to, or you think you have a real chance of getting published in. From a publisher's perspective (not JPG's I hope, but you can bet other publishers are thinking about this) you don't have to employ or commission expensive content creators and you get valuable content for fractions of pennies on the dollar. The community even saves your editors valuable time by voting on which items submitted for consideration should go immediately into the slush pile and which should really be considered - more on this later.
But there are downsides and here I am specifically speaking as an art photography fanboy. I have no real interest in stock, fashion or commercial photography, a passing interest in documentary work but my real passion is art photography. If you don't know the players in the American art photography publishing field there is one giant that is largely unchallenged; Aperture. I love Aperture but a monopoly is not healthy in either commerce or art, but lets leave commerce behind and concentrate on art. They need to be challenged because they have largely isolated themselves in their designer ivory tower. They, along with a few museum and gallery curators, decide what is of value - I'm not talking financially valuable, although, that of course comes into it too; I'm talking about what is worth seeing, what is worth your time and what is not.
At one time I had thought the JPG might be a grass roots movement that could lead a siege against this ivory tower but I now doubt that will happen. They (the art photography establishment) don't take us (the enthusiasts and amateurs) seriously. Why should they when we hardly take ourselves seriously? Look at a copy of JPG side by side with a copy of Aperture; JPG is fun and beautiful to look at but it doesn't have the weight, gravitas or artistic authority of Aperture. JPG may be a better business model but Aperture defines what art photography is. So which is more important? Of course it depends on whether you want to make money or make art. Being a path maker has a cost. Being dependent on your users to determine your content means that your content is democratic, but democratic often means moderate. Moderation in politics may be a good idea but in art it leads to mediocrity. The crowd is intelligent but does it know anything about art?
To quote Martin Parr in the fore mentioned interview, photography is the most democratic of the arts. Anyone can pick up a camera and if they do it is Derek's assertion, that act alone makes them a photographer. Photography is so seemingly easy - you just push the button and the camera does the rest right? You don't need to develop an visual vocabulary or have any knowledge of the movements or icons (images and photographers) that have defined the medium. When the crowd defines ascetics someone with 6 months experience has the same weight as someone who has been photographing for decades. Not that experience defined by time served is any measure of a person's eye for art, but I hope you get the point that I am trying to make.
Good, new art is rarely immediately popular. Good art is challenging and can take work to appreciate. In my experience the crowd may be smart but it is also often lazy. In our sound bite obsessed, instant gratification, ADD, modern world when we stumble upon something challenging or that requires work to understand that has not been recommended to us, we pass right on to the next, easier thing. For this reason the crowd appreciates and recommends things it can recognize as falling into a previously defined pigeon hole as 'art'. The crowd does not take risks and so good art is easily passed over in favor of easier fare. An art-photography editor who relies on the crowd to filter submissions, even just a first pass, will get to see good pictures but may miss out on real art.
Grass roots, art-photography still needs a champion and, if that champion becomes the establishment, it will need another champion and so on, and so forth. JPG could still be that champion but it is my assertion that it won't happen until it relies less on the crowd and pursues more edgy, less safe work. The art-photography world needs a new forceful, visionary personality to harness the new revolution and revival of interest in photography. It needs a new Stieglitz. It needs a new secession - secession 2.0.
Garry Winogrand on vimeo - 10 minute profile of this fantastic photographer.
