Did It Really Look Like That?

There is one question that I've gotten more than any other from people looking at my photography: "Is that what it really looked like?" This is a question that has so much baggage attached to it, that it needs to be unpacked before I can answer it. This blog post is an attempt at that unpacking.

Motivating this question is a sense of incredulity about the picture in question. Usually, I take it as a compliment, understanding it to mean, "Wow, I've never seen anything this beautiful or interesting myself. How lucky you were to be there with a camera to capture it." However, another way to take this question is that it is calling into question the authenticity of the photograph. Slyly, the questioner is suggesting that the picture isn't an accurate representation of the original subject. In this digital age where Photoshop and similar programs make it extremely easy to manipulate images (Iranian missiles anyone?), it's hard not to understand this suspicion.

A full discussion of the complications Photoshop adds to this issue will have to wait for another post to do it justice. For photography generally, though, the issue surrounding authenticity is intimately tied into the concept of what the original "really looked like" and that ultimately is a question of phenomenology, and as such, I can't answer it. I have no idea what *anything* looks like. I only know what my senses tell me about it. Hell, if you want to get really into it, you can ask whether we know with certainty that "it" is there at all outside of our perceptions of it. In this way, I have no way of knowing what it looks like in "reality," but only what it looked like to me at the time.

Let's look at a specific example. I took this photo last summer at Coney Island:





GOLDEN TICKETS (original)




GOLDEN TICKETS (processed)

Now, as you can see, there's quite a difference between these two images. I didn't crop this image in the processing stage, but I did do some color correction which resulted as you can see in a much more vibrant photo.

Now, you could say, "Aha! This *isn't* what it really looked like. I *knew* it!" but such a supposition implies that the camera blindly and completely captures what was actually there to be captured. Instead, the technology itself in getting that original RAW image is working all kinds of voodoo on the subject, not the least of which is its transmuting the subject from three dimensions to two which results in various shifts in the visual geometry of the original subject.

Along with that, the sensor doesn't capture light and color in the same way the eye does. It can capture spectra of light that the human eye can't even see, for example, and so this original file is only an approximation of what the *camera* "sees," not the photographer. Therefore, that image straight from the camera doesn't resemble what I remember seeing nearly as much as the final, processed image does.

So I ask you, "Is that what it really looked like?" Depends on who you ask, me or the camera. For me, the artist, I can only say that the final, processed version is my best approximation of my memory of the subject on that day. It captures not only the physical actuality of the subject as closely as possible, but it also is my best attempt at capturing how that subject made me feel because ultimately that is what photography is all about. A photograph shouldn't just document the physical reality of the subject, but should attempt to communicate its emotional and subjective reality as well. That is my very long, and I'm sure, incomplete answer to a very short question. If you have any questions, comments, or feedback, I'd love to hear from you. Please comment below. Thanks and take care.

RAV

Coney Island, Baby

On July 18th, over 32,000 photographers around the world gathered at various locations and spent the next few hours photographing everything they could get their cameras on. This was the second year for Photowalk, an event inpired and organized by Scott Kelby, and based on the results of the photos I've seen taken on that day, it couldn't have been a more rousing success.

My brother Jacob to come down from Illinois to do the walk with me at Coney Island. At our location alone there were around 40 other participants and we couldn't have had a more beautiful day. It was an amazing experience for at several reasons. First, Coney Island. What an amazing riot of color and people and activity. Normally, I feel too self-conscious and invasive to take pictures of strangers on the street, but because Coney Island was so crazy no one even noticed if I snapped them. Of course, it didn't hurt there there were so many other people doing the same thing. It made what I was doing with the camera just background noise. The other photographers also made the day special by giving me a sense of community that is all together too easy to be without. Photography can be such isolating work, just you, your camera, and your computer. It was wonderful to be with other people just as obsessed with the visual world as I was. And oh what amazing images they created. I felt honored to able to be a part of the group.

For those interested, you can go here to see a stream of the worldwide photowalk images. If you want to see some of the images I captured at Coney Island, you can see my photostream here. As a part of the event, Scott Kelby is going to choose some photographs from the entire walk as prize winners. Below, I'm including my two entries. If you get a chance to go next year, I highly recommend it. You don't have to be a professional. You just need to have a camera and love photography. As Émile Zola said, "In my view, you cannot claim to have seen something until you have photographed it." Take care.



High Cotton



Coney Island Cone

Jersey Art Splash

I am finally entering my first New Jersey art show. It's the prestigious 2009 New Jersey Arts Annual. This is a very selective show which showcases the best of Jersey fine arts. While getting picked for such shows is always a dicey proposition no matter how good your work is because judging is such a personal process, the topic this year is one that I think my subject matter is well suited for: Local Life. This is how they describe what they are looking for:

"In these transformative times, the headlong rush into 'globalization' sometimes obscures the intimate, familiar details of life immediately around us. We are asking artists to turn their vision towards their own communities, their own homes, their own lives, their own thoughts, to explore life as an intimate experience, and through art find what is profound in the familiar."

Needless to say, if you read my entry about my struggle to create an Artistic Statement (one of my first entries), then you know how well this fits what I am interested in capturing already. Couldn't be more tailor made for me. As long as they don't interpret this to be a Norman-Rockwell look-a-like contest, I think I have a good chance, but as I said, you never know.

Without further ado, here are the 8 images I submitted:



The Duke in the John




Elsie




First Grade, Mrs. Maskew




The Santa of Christmas Past




Smiley




Spellcheck




Spigot




Take a Number

I'm very excited about this show and the images I've sent in. Regardless of the outcome, it's exciting to finally start my entrance into the New Jersey art scene. If you are interested, the show will run at the Morris Museum from April 29th to June 28th. Wish me luck!

Good Shot

I've been playing basketball with a very interesting group of guys most Friday nights at a local Catholic school. We usually don't get done till after 11 and afterwards, a few of us go to a bar close by to complain about our aches and pains and enjoy the sunset of our athletic careers (needless to say, both "athletic" and "careers" need scare quotes there).

This bar happens to be next door to a run down old roadside motel called the Boundary and when we pulled up the first time, I told Jon, who is kind enough to give me a ride to and from these games, that I'd love to take a picture of the road sign for the hotel. He expressed great surprise and asked me why. To him, it looked like one of a countless number of motel signs not worthy of a second look much less a photo. To me, though, I had a knee-jerk reaction to capture it with my camera. At the time, I couldn't articulate to him why I wanted to take the picture; I just knew that it interested me. Jon got me thinking about a lot of things though and this post is a delayed answer to his question.

First, let's get a look at what inspired all this:



The Boundary

I finally remembered my camera one Friday and this is the shot I got. I'm not entirely happy with it. Night photography has never been a strength of mine and it was after 1am, about 20 degrees outside, and I was in sweaty basketball clothes, so I didn't spend as much time on getting it perfect as I would've liked, but I still find the image very compelling. The real question, though, is why?

I can certainly read the photo as it exists now and try to reverse engineer the process that led to my concluding this was a good subject. The worn texture and general shabbiness of the sign contradicts the promise of comfort and class promised by cable TV and HBO. Think about this hotel, probably opened in post-World War II America where travel and mobility promised romance and adventure on the road whereas the state of the sign and hotel generally as it is today suggest that it is only used for romance of a more carnal nature. Such Americana always draws my eye and certainly fits in with my interest in engaging with mundane objects that normally escape our attention as my artistic statement tries to explain.

However, that doesn't really answer the question or at least it only does so to raise another question. I certainly don't take pictures of *all* mundane things. I still have some kind of filter in place that helps me decide what I to photograph. Why this sign and not the last 100 motel signs I'd seen?

The question finally boils down to this: What makes a good shot? There are certainly rules that most people agree about in terms of composition such as the rule of thirds and questions of sharp focus, but there are as many exceptions to the rules and reasons to break them as there are rules. Plus, these are rules for what makes a good photo not a good subject for a photo, so Jon's question is still unanswered.

I want to say that, ultimately, what makes a good subject is a personal choice of the artist that can't be explained rationally. The reaction is the result of a gestalt of as many things as go into creating the individual's personality itself. Maybe it's one of the things that marks the artist as "artistic," this ability to hone in on what has potential artistic merit as a subject. The success of that artist would then be how many other people also respond on some level to the subjects s/he focuses on. Other people weren't attuned to the potential artistic worth of the subject until the artist "distilled" it into a work of art.

In this scenario, the artist him or herself doesn't have to be consciously aware of what specific elements go into drawing the artist to the potential subject. The draw, the unconscious pull, is enough. Let me give you another example. Here is a photo I took on my recent return to Charleston, WV:



Take a Number

It's a picture of the shelves at a local shoe repair shop. When I went in with my camera equipment, the workers were already giving me the fisheye and when I asked if I could take a picture of their repair shelves, they rolled their eyes, looked at each other and said "Knock yourself out." To them, it was only their workplace. Nothing but a place for them to practice their craft. What could I possibly find there of aesthetic value. They didn't come out and ask me the question, but it was there in their eyes. I don't know that I would've had any more of a satisfactory answer for them than I did for Jon. I was moved by the repetition of the bright yellow tags and big, bold black numbers. The way the bags are all shelved in a row, some straight and some askew suggest a real tension between organization and chaos, the age-old battle between entropy and enthalpy.

Pretty highbrow stuff for repaired shoes on old shelves, but if I look at the image now, read it as if I hadn't taken the photograph but am only a viewer, those are the themes I see at work. None of these thoughts were in my mind when I had the urge to take the photo, at least not consciously. I only knew that it was a subject I really wanted to capture. According to the principle I've been describing, this would be fine. As an artist, my only immediate need is to act on this impulse. Some of these urges will result in more successful photographs than others, but overall, the instinct to find a certain subject photoworthy is reason enough to capture it. The judgments and explanations can come later, by me or by others.

However, Jon didn't seem very satisfied with this answer which essentially is "I dunno why I find that worth taking a picture of" so I wonder if I am missing a step in the artistic process. Am I not enough in touch with my process or professional enough in my approach to my work that I'm missing some preliminary, preparatory stage where I should be able to articulate my interest before I pick up the camera? Am I taking the easy way out and not rigorously enough challenging myself as an artist? One flip answer I gave Jon was "If I could describe in words what moves me about the subject, I wouldn't need the camera to capture it." I think there is some truth to that, but I'm not sure it doesn't evade some very important issues that I've tried to tease out in this post. That's where I'm stuck in the thought process. If anyone has any thoughts or suggestions on where I can go from here, I'd love to hear them.

Well, Jon, that was a hell of a question. Thanks for the rides and the blog entry topic.

The Gathering

Long time, no blog, I know. We moved to New Jersey a month ago and have been living out of boxes for a while while we unpacked and generally got settled. Not there completely yet, but getting closer, so I thought it was time to update everyone on a very nice development.

Before leaving Charleston, WV, I worked with some fantastic artists to establish a new art group called the Quarrier Street Collective. The talented members included Traci Higginbotham, Bruce Haley, Betty Rivard, Betty McMullen, Larry Wolfe, Emily Roles, and myself. You can read a short article about the group here, even if it describes my work as "images of mundane yet ephemeral objects." I can't begin to tell you what that means.

The basic organizing principle for the group was a mutual interest in finding a community that could provide support and feedback in an environment of mutual respect. Without some form of critique and sharing of ideas, we each felt that it was increasingly difficult to continue to grow as artists.

You can't get a group of artists together without the idea of a show coming up, so we decided to have our coming out party this October at the Art Emporium in Charleston, WV, where we held all of our meetings. The opening for "The Gathering" was October 3rd and couldn't have been better attended. If you are in the Charleston area in October, be sure to stop by.

Here are the four images I have in the show, in no particular order:





Elsie





Duke in the John





School's Out





Smiley

Even though I have moved from Charleston and look to find new colleagues here in New Jersey, I want to keep working with these very talented folks in the Quarrier Street Collective. I have learned a lot from them and am proud to claim them as partners and friends. Take care.

Modern Interpretations Show

Sorry for the long absence, but it's been a hectic fall. We just got back from a FL thanksgiving and I hope to have some pictures up from it soon. Until then, I thought I'd share the good news with you about a new show.

I just found out I had two pieces accepted to a new show at Tamarack called "Modern Interpretations" which runs from January 13th through March 16th, 2008. I can't say enough for the work Karen Lilly, the gallery director at Tamarack, has done to help create a wonderful showcase for West Virginia Artists.

I had a tough time choosing what to submit because I couldn't decide which of my pieces had "modern" sensibilities. Obviously, such a concept as modernity is subject to many interpretations, so I'm still not sure what the jurors used to make their decisions (and won't until I see the whole show), but after much agonizing, here are the pieces I submitted:


Any Questions?

Through the Looking Glass

These were the two images chosen for inclusion. The three that didn't get accepted follow:

Blevio

The Shape of Color

The Story of Tomorrow

I'm not sure what separates out the first two, but it was a very fun exercise--well fun in retrospect--to struggle with what what modernity means when it comes to photography, a rather modern art form to begin with. I'd love to hear any thoughts on the photos themselves or modernity in art generally. Take care and thanks for the interest.

RAV