RIP J.D. Salinger

What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it.

—J.D. Salinger

Explaining Can-Con

There is a big chunk of something stuck to the bottom of my glass
and I have been refilling it all day
and forgetting about it until I take a sip
but then I am upstairs
and just keep drinking
I have done this 3 times already
I have no idea what the chunk is

If this is not satisfactory, try Wikipedia.

Captions & Accountability

Ben Curtis/Associated Press

Errol Morris has a new post on NYT.com concerning the nature of photographic captions in his interview with war photographer Ben Curtis titled It Was All Started by a Mouse. It is typical war photo commentary fare, from the editorial process to photoshopping, etc.

Then Ben Curtis says

I’m looking at the Mickey Mouse picture again. A reader might infer from that, that a child had been killed in the attack and that this toy belonged to some child who is dead somewhere. Okay, you’re a reader, you can infer that if you want. But we’re not saying that. I’m not saying that. I’m saying it’s a child’s toy lying in the middle of a street after an air strike. That’s all I’m saying. If you want to infer from that what you want, that’s your prerogative, but you can’t then criticize us for that, you know?

It is disappointing, both that a war photographer thinks this way and is comfortable enough to say it in an interview with Errol Morris in the New York Times, and that Morris let’s him get away with it.

I find it surprising that any contemporary photographer can pretend photography, especially war photography, is objective. I don’t want to criticize Curtis for making the photograph (and not because he tells us that we cannot) but I want to chide him for taking the easy way out, while masking it as the high road.

Editorializing in war photography is just as unavoidable as it is in photography in any other form. It is admirable to attempt to be as objective as possible, but to suggest that photographers infer nothing with their images is disingenuous.

Though I am sure that I have no idea what it is like “in the shit,” it really doesn’t seem like ignoring the nature of photography to shirk accountability does much for your credibility.

R.I.P. Larry Sultan

Very few photographers I have ever seen speak had the ability to leave an audience with a greater appreciation of both the artist and the medium. Larry Sultan was one of just a few photographers I saw lecture over the years at Art Center that accomplished this. That is what these lectures should be—inspiring and informative—not about ego. I left the auditorium more enlightened and excited about the work that he had made, and reinvigorated regarding the work that I was making. Something rare, indeed.

Thanks, Larry.

Vitality

“If you don’t feel that you are possibly on the edge of humiliating yourself, of losing control of the whole thing, then probably what you are doing isn’t very vital.”

—John Irving

Imply Significance for Free!

In theory, photographs are inherently interesting. The act of documenting implies significance—why would someone bother to make a photograph of something not worth photographing? This is a very loaded topic, but there is a technique that you can use to show people what is important without actually having to deal with discussions of aesthetics/surface/medium/whatever:

Step One
Go to a relatively crowded area. Specifically where is not important, but having people around to appreciate your perspective is what this is all about.

Step Two
Take your camera (or camera-like object) and start pointing it at things. You don’t necessarily have to make any photographs, but you can routinely glance at the back of your camera (or camera-like object) so your audience gets the idea that you are consuming the environment in a thoughtful and considered way. They now know you are looking.

Step Three
Determine that something is interesting and focus a lot of attention there. I mean, really, just keep taking “photographs” of whatever it is. Check the back of your camera periodically.

Suggestions of things to find interesting:
1. Storefronts
2. Piles
3. Garbage
4. Piles of garbage
5. Cups
6. Unattractive (or “differently” attractive) people (including seniors)
7. Minorities (including seniors)
8. Anything on the ground
9. The tops of things
10. Underneath things
11. Urban juxtapositions
12. Youth (be careful!)

Regardless of what you decide to pay attention to, consistency and commitment are key. Don’t break away from your original source of interest and photograph/“photograph” an onlooker—this will only intimidate your audience. You want to draw them in, not push them away.

Step Four
If you’ve done everything right, you will most likely get a fair amount of people involved in looking. In a nutshell what this means is you have bypassed all of the bullshit. All of it.

You have entered the world(s) of:
photography-as-performance
camera-as-psychological-tool
audience-as-participant
(I could not be more truthful when I say these are my favorite worlds)

Methods of Monetization
Hire an ungrad to document that shit, yo!

In Conclusion
Manipulate people’s curiosity for fun and profit!

Toronto, Ontario 2009

Snarky note to Frank Gehry, justified

My wife and I visited the AGO (about half a block away from our place) on X-Mas Eve. I made a snarky little note on one of the public feedback/artback kiosks. My wife rolled her eyes and we went on, until we saw…

Snark vindication!

I have to admit that I really like the new building, although I am disappointed that an architecture-pleb like me called this one while sitting at a kiddie table drawing smiley faces. I feel that fashion aside, a buildings first priority should be to keep the elements out, and in the name of A-R-T especially.

Regret: Not having photos of the completely shut down main staircase in the Daniel Libeskind designed Denver Art Funnel (which I don’t have to admit that I like, as opposed to the AGO).

(re-posted from my old blog, originally posted 01-12-2009)

A note from Shelby Lee Adams

In response to an old blog post.

Dear Ross,
I stumbled across your site today and decided to comment to hopefully clarify my methodology. I define my work in a lot of ways, now working for 35 years within my Appalachian community. My photos are formally arranged and lighting is added to help define the environment so that I might work with a 4×5 camera. My chosen tool. With this process I am given the benefit of making 4×5 Polaroids within 20 seconds in the field that I can share and review with my subjects. My subjects have input, so I call my work a working collaboration. I am a participant observer. My work is autobiographical, subjective, creative and documentary. I have never defined my work as one thing, others have. Life is very complex. The issues and relationships I’m working with far exceed any documentary films done on my work. I have published three books with my peoples understandings and currently have a 4th  project I’m showing around. Working with your subjects you change things, move things, you want very much to please them, I listen to people, something most photographers might not consider. They have and still are told what to do by society, but not by me, we work together. It is an authentic relationship, making real photographs.

Style is not to be trusted.

Toronto, Ontario 2009

“I think this idea first occurred to me when I was looking at a marvellous etching of a bull by Picasso. It was an illustration for a story by Balzac called The Hidden Masterpiece. I am sure that you all know it. It is a bull that is expressed in 12 different styles going from very naturalistic version of a bull to an absolutely reductive single line abstraction and everything else along the way.

What is clear just from looking at this single print is that style is irrelevant. In every one of these cases, from extreme abstraction to acute naturalism they are extraordinary regardless of the style. It’s absurd to be loyal to a style. It does not deserve your loyalty.

I must say that for old design professionals it is a problem because the field is driven by economic consideration more than anything else. Style change is usually linked to economic factors, as all of you know who have read Marx. Also fatigue occurs when people see too much of the same thing too often. So every ten years or so there is a stylistic shift and things are made to look different. Typefaces go in and out of style and the visual system shifts a little bit. If you are around for a long time as a designer, you have an essential problem of what to do. I mean, after all, you have developed a vocabulary, a form that is your own. It is one of the ways that you distinguish yourself from your peers, and establish your identity in the field. How you maintain your own belief system and preferences becomes a real balancing act.

The question of whether you pursue change or whether you maintain your own distinct form becomes difficult. We have all seen the work of illustrious practitioners that suddenly look old-fashioned or, more precisely, belonging to another moment in time. And there are sad stories such as the one about Cassandre, arguably the greatest graphic designer of the twentieth century, who couldn’t make a living at the end of his life and committed suicide.

But the point is that anybody who is in this for the long haul has to decide how to respond to change in the zeitgeist. What is it that people now expect that they formerly didn’t want? And how to respond to that desire in a way that doesn’t change your sense of integrity and purpose.”

—Milton Glaser

Waiting for an influx of ____________

Sometimes there are projects that are maddeningly obtainable. I know the right people, I have researched all of the locations. There is a rough plan in my head to get around without spending a terrible amount of money—actually, a reasonable amount of money. For the usual reasons, though, I am short a resonable amount of money.

That doesn’t stop relevent information coming to me on a regular basis, or worthwhile connections popping up, reminding me that I am just not in a position to move forward right now.

It is—as always—clouding my ability to see the projects that are right in front of me, that I would have been working on had I not started to wrap my brain around something just slightly out of reach.

I always say that there is really no good reason not to make work, no matter what the obstacle is—whether it is time, money, etc.—you can always find a way around it, find another topic, another angle, another medium. Every limitation is just another parameter to be considered, not something that can destroy an idea.

And the cliché of the backburner exists for a reason—sometimes things just need to sit and wait a little while for an influx of cash while you are busy doing other things. Notebooks can fill up and phone calls can be made and permission can be requested/denied/granted before the money is there, before the time is there.

With that in mind I am going to redevelop my productive rut, and enjoy it. I am going to persue the little/big/long/boring/interesting/brief/collaborative projects that are 100% available to me, and maintain a long-distance relationship with the ones that aren’t.