Philip Morgan
I'm a photographer who pays life's expenses by working with technology. I'm trying to make photographs that express the resonant point where inner and outer landscapes meet and become indistinguishable.
FEATURED COMMENT: Kent Wiley wrote: "I'd like to hear more about this "point where the inner and outer landscapes meet."
Philip responds - To begin, a few precursors:
* "We do not see things as they are, but as we are." - Kant (?)
* "The way an observer interacts with the ensemble determines which aspect unfolds and which remains hidden." - Michael Talbot
* "No place is boring, if you've had a good night's sleep and have a pocket full of unexposed film." - Robert Adams
As I said, I try to make photographs that express the resonant point where inner and outer landscapes meet and become indistinguishable. What exactly I mean by this is difficult to express, as the statement is more an ideal than a track record. But at its bottom, this has something to do with the knowledge that nothing is unconnected. None of my doing or being is free from connection to anything I would like to define as Other.
A resonant point happens, for me, when an object or event thins the boundary of self and that imagined boundary becomes permeable. Words that have unusual gravity or meaning; objects that are unexpectedly familiar or attractive; strangers who are less than strange; scenes that have unexplained visual or emotional power--all of these are examples of points where my inner landscape (psyche, spirit, call it what you will) are sufficiently synchronous with respect to the outer mileu that I am translated, even temporarily, from isolated particle to partner, co-creator of meaning, and member.
This tree lives in its visual surroundings in the way that reminds me of what I am trying to express here. I'll quit talking while I'm (maybe) ahead...
FEATURED COMMENT # 2: Jim Jirka wrote: "Kudos to you if you understand what you just said. A big reason why I do not want to deal with the art world."
publisher's response -Jim, I see in your photographs, and by extension I see in you, much of what Philip is writing about.
To my eye and sensibility, your photographs strike a resonant point in me. Specifically, you seem drawn to photograph "scenes that have unexplained visual or emotional power" that, for the moment, certainly "translate " me "from isolated particle to partner" with the natural world. For me (and I'm certain for others), your photographs prick the unthought known, creating/reinforcing the feeling that nothing is unconnected.
Are you aware of this power that is part and parcel of your photographs?
Jim's response - Consiously ? No. Sub-consiously ? Who knows.
pub. - Jim, what do you see and feel when you view your photographs?
Jim's response -That is the problem. Can't put into words what I see and feel. To me they look neat. I do remember the "conditions" that they were taken in, with reference to the senses. During exposure I don't see much and feel even less. It is only later that the image develops. So I guess I must be working the scene, sub-consiously.
posted by gravitas et nugalis at 11/20/2006 02:38:00 PM
8 Comments:
seems almost useless to plant a tree on such a small footprint in such an artificial area. Maybe they were mandated to preserve a certain percentage of wildlife?
and I like the subtle/foggy hues in contrast to the tree and it's island.
Philip, I'd like to hear more about this "point where the inner and outer landscapes meet." Or even better still, show and tell.
To begin, a few precursors:
* "We do not see things as they are, but as we are." - Kant (?)
* "The way an observer interacts with the ensemble determines which aspect unfolds and which remains hidden." - Michael Talbot
* "No place is boring, if you've had a good night's sleep and have a pocket full of unexposed film." - Robert Adams
As I said, I try to make photographs that express the resonant point where inner and outer landscapes meet and become indistinguishable. What exactly I mean by this is difficult to express, as the statement is more an ideal than a track record. But at its bottom, this has something to do with the knowledge that nothing is unconnected. None of my doing or being is free from connection to anything I would like to define as Other.
A resonant point happens, for me, when an object or event thins the boundary of self and that imagined boundary becomes permeable. Words that have unusual gravity or meaning; objects that are unexpectedly familiar or attractive; strangers who are less than strange; scenes that have unexplained visual or emotional power--all of these are examples of points where my inner landscape (psyche, spirit, call it what you will) are sufficiently synchronous with respect to the outer mileu that I am translated, even temporarily, from isolated particle to partner, co-creator of meaning, and member.
This tree lives in its visual surroundings in the way that reminds me of what I am trying to express here. I'll quit talking while I'm (maybe) ahead...
--Philip.
Philip,
Kudos to you if you understand what you just said.
A big reason why I do not want to deal with the art world.
I should have probably added that I too have had thoughts such as your's during some drug induced coma while growing up. The problem is that I never thought to write it down when I woke up.
Consiously ? No. Sub-consiously ? Who knows.
That is the problem. Can't put into words what I see and feel. To me they look neat. I do remember the "conditions" that they were taken in, with reference to the senses. During exposure I don't see much and feel even less. It is only later that the image develops. So I guess I must be working the scene, sub-consiously.
Jim, this is a really important comment: "During exposure I don't see much and feel even less." When I see something that catches my eye to photograph, I go into some kind of auto pilot mode that is mostly about technique to find the method to capture on film what I saw, usually for only a fraction of a second. I know while composing on the ground glass I should be more in the moment with my subject, but technical considerations continue to be foremost in my mind. Maybe this shows my images to be shallow? I don't know, but I agree that "It is only later that the image develops."
Post a Comment
<< Home