the landscapist

LISTEN UP

2007-01-18T15:05:00.000Z

THE LANDSCAPIST HAS MOVED to to a new home on SquareSpace.

The new address is http://landscapist.squarespace.com - please update your links to The Landscapist.

The Landscapist on here on blogspot will be maintained as an ARCHIVE - still very much worth your time to explore.

Please kick the tires

2007-01-16T16:56:00.000Z

Please check out my test blog on SquareSpace and let me know what you think.

FYI - word verification is re-activated. The spam started almost right away. If commenting is inconvenient, please don't blame me or blogspot - it's all because of the f___ing spammers.

FEATURED COMMENT: Mary Dennis wrote: "I like the look of the square space blog a lot Mark. It's clean looking, (almost like a nice magazine layout) feels compact and logical, links seems to work well and the photos look good too. And no word security gunk. Is it free?"

publisher's comment: Mary's response represents the universal consensus to date. Seems like the way to go. I still have to kick a few more of the tires, but, so far, so good. There are couple of really interesting - as yet unactivated - features that I think you're going to like. How's does a Discussion Forum sound? How about the ability to directly upload photographs to a personal gallery page?

And, speaking of questions, to answer Mary's - No, it's not free. I may have to work some overtime in the coal mine, but at least I won't have to go without boots or donuts this winter.

FEATURED COMMENT: Mary Dennis also wrote: "...hey, isn't there some poetic justice in a "square thinker" ending up in a "square space"?

publisher's respone: It's hip to be square.

FYI

2007-01-15T18:45:00.000Z

At Paul Butzi's urging, I have investigated wordpress. For me, it's a no go for 3 reasons; 1) it does not appear to be very Mac OSX friendly, 2) it does not handle photographs well and The Landscapist is about photography and photographs, 3) in my experience with the content creation aspect of blogging software to date, blogspot is the most effortless and intuitive.

But, in order to address one of your common blogspot-user complaints, I have disabled the word verification stuff for leaving comments. This means you can type a comment and click "Publish" without that pesky word varification thing. This might also mean that The Landscapist will get hit with spam comments. We'll see.

BTW, check out the changes to the Photo Submission guidlines (on the sidebar).

ku # 450 - What kind of photographer are you?

2007-01-15T15:55:00.000Z

I was nosing around, investigating the notion of reading photographs. Steve Durbin's featured comment on urban ku # 20 and comment on intent (see below) was the instigation.

My initial area of interest was Roland Barthes' idea of Studium and Punctum. According to Barthes, Studium stands for the general, cultured interest one has in photographs. Punctum is the personal relation, the emotional side. It occurs when one is deeply touched by a picture. Barthes writes, "...it is this element which rises from the scene, shoots out of it like an arrow, and pierces me. A Latin word exists to designate this wound, this prick, this mark made by a pointed instrument: the word suits me all the better in that it also refers to the notion of punctuation, and because the photographs I am speaking of are in effect punctuated, sometimes even speckled with these sensitive points; precisely, these marks, these wounds are so many points ... A photograph's punctum is that accident which pricks me — but also bruises me, is poignant to me."

Barthes goes on to state that photos which exemplify studium appeal on "the order of liking, not loving...I glance through them, I don't recall them...I am interested in them (as I am interested in the world), I do not love them."" I don't know if Barthes ever states directly that he "loves" a photograph that "bruises me, is poignant to me, but he does state that "...While most photographs offer only the identity of an object, those that project a punctum potentially offer the truth of the subject....they challenge us outside any generality...these are the photos which take our breath away...", so I'll go out on a limb here and venture, what's not to love about photographs that meet that criteria?"

So, you might ask, what does this have to do with the question what kind of photographer are you? Well, maybe nothing...but, while I was nosing around I also came across this - from Reading Photographs by Hans Durrer :

..to judge photographs by the — perceived — sincerity of the photographer (intent?) is highly problematic. Ansel Adams, who refers to photographers as artists, points out: 'Some of the worst artists, after all, are the most sincere... the only things that distinguish the photographer from everybody else are his pictures,' he should be judged by them, he argues, because 'major art, by definition, can stand independent of its maker'".

It is not without significance that Adams is referring here to the concept of 'beauty in photography', so the title of his book, and as far as the aesthetics of form is concerned, one cannot but agree with him. Documentary (photography), however, is not only about form, which is exactly why sincerity and biography do matter. As Stott says: 'The heart of documentary is not form or style or medium, but always content.' Furthermore, documentarists stress feelings, '... they believe that a fact to be true and important must be felt.' This is not to say that form in documentary is without relevance, this is only to say that documentary aims, primarily, at being true, not at being beautiful. Yet what is true is often beautiful."

From that I infer (and believe - always have, always will) that intent matters. Point In fact, I believe that it matters very much. Almost to the point that I believe it is a photographers (artist's) responsibility to state his intentions.

That said, the question that came to my mind after reading this excerpt was, "Am I a documentary photographer"?

I tend to think of myself as a Fine Art Landscape Photographer, although I have not ever really been comfortable with the phrase "fine art". At various times in my commercial life I have randomly functioned as a Still Life Photographer, a Fashion Photographer, a Corporate Communications Photographer, and, yes, a Documentary/Journalism Photographer (periodical feature/editorial type, not news).

Now, I know that some could care less what kind of photographer they are. They are just photographers. OK, but I think giving yourself a well thought out label, just like writng a well thought out Artist's Statement (statement of intent) is an important part of self-knowing. The only problem I have in this regard is finding the right word to use as my label. The more I think about it, the more I realize that none of the "classic" labels fit. Mostly, I feel like an observationist.

But, when I encountered the ideas that "The heart of documentary is not form or style or medium, but always content." and "...that documentary aims, primarily, at being true, not at being beautiful., and the absolute deal-clincher. "Yet what is true is often beautiful.", I must admit that the label, Doumentary Photographer, starts to sound and feel pretty good.

What kind of photographer are you?

ku # 449

2007-01-15T14:50:00.000Z

Finally Up to 10 inches forecast for today and a protracted cold spell to back it up (-7F tomorrow night). Time to tune up the xc skis/snowshoes and haul out the winter mountaineering camping gear.

urban ku # 20 and a comment on intent

2007-01-14T16:11:00.000Z

Intent - The notion of photographic intent was raised by several of you in comments about the Prakarsa/McIntosh comparo. I think that McIntosh's intent is clear and straight forward - drawing attention to the plight of the impoverished/exploited and ultimately to the roots of that poverty/exploitation. Prakarsa's intent is not so clear and some wanted to reserve judgement until more could be learned.

IMO - I have always believed myths, fairy tales, story telling, etc., to be very valuable in passing on ideas, traditions and values from one generation to the next or, for that matter, from one tribe/culture to another. Their intrinsic beauty is that they function on several levels. Like good photography (Art), on the obvious surface of things (like the referent in photographs) they can be/are seductive and entertaining, but of course they also contain "hidden" value as well (the connoted). To my way of thinking, they are both illustrative and illuminating - the 2 qualities that I think are to be found in Art (but not in art). I also believe that these qualities are found in Art because the artist intended to have them there.

I bring up the notion of myths, fairy tales and story telling in this context because I have discovered another Indonesian photographer, Andi Hermawan, whose photography of Indonesian children is nearly identical (albeit not as technically accomplished) to that of Prakarsa.

Interesting.

The question that comes to mind is this - unless Hermawan is nothing more than a Prakasrsa wannabe, is there something in Indonesian tradition, myth, culture about children that we should know about before passing judgement here?

To that point, Ott I-don't-even-like-roses-that-much Luuk asked (although not expressing himself with anything close to my eloquence and erudition), "... (as) For mistaking them for real - does everyone who takes photos in the Far East really have to fight the ignorance of the western man"?

FEATURED COMMENT: Steve Durbin wrote (in part): "...The question of intent is fascinating on a human level and certainly would inform our judgment of the photographer. Anything we know about intent is also likely to affect our judgment of the photos. But the overwhelming factor in my reaction to an image is the image itself, and how it relates to my own experience, aspirations, etc. Intent was important in making the image what it is, but from there it's just pixels until my mind engages it.:"

Jonathan McIntosh ~ a different kind of Jakarta landscape

2007-01-12T22:03:00.000Z

Jonathan McIntosh is an digital-media artist, social justice activist, photographer and Indymeida journalist living in the Boston/Roxbury area. I found these photographs when I was looking for some info about Jakarta. My curiosity was picqued after posting Rarindra Prakarsa's photographs.

Apparently life for children in Jakarta is not all skittles and cream as Rarindra's photographs might have us believe.

I'll have a bit more to write about this in an addendum to this post over the weekend. An in-law from NJ with a car load of kids is due very soon, so I don't have time right now. While they're all out skiing tomorrow I'll write my peace/piece. Feel free to chime in any time.

FYI, I haven't had any contact with Jonathan Roxbury. I downloaded and posted his photographs under a Creative Commons attribution license. See more of his photography from The Garbage Ring - Jakarta Indonesia

FEATURED COMMENT: Jim Jirka wrote: "So in seeing this and Rarindra's images, would you then consider the former to be "ecoporn" of a different type?"

publisher's response: Jim, my first response is somewhere between rage/anger and the calm cool collectedness it will take to write a 10,000 word response. I am going to try to contact Rarindra again and get a fix on his "intent" although I'm not certain how much that really matters.

FEATURED COMMENT: Joel Truckenbrod wrote: "It's clear that our concept of "poverty" in the U.S. exists in another realm from what these people experience everyday. I am humbled and am not quite sure what else to say."

publisher's response: I am humbled as well - and angered (not at Jim J.) at a world that allows this to exist) and I am also struggling with "what to say". It seems somehow....well....not "wrong", but not "right" either to natter and blather about notions and ideas regarding the medium of photography.

To speak to Joel's reaction of not knowing what to say, I find it nearly impossible to view McIntosh's photographs as photographs in any of the ways in which photographers often view photographs - these photographs do not seem to have "composition", "quality of light", or any of the other photographic trappings we commonly employ. Both the referent (the object of the camera's gaze) and the connoted are so powerful that any "things-photographic" thoughts are simply obliterated.

As Mary Dennis opined, "...The power of imagery is truly awesome, is it not?

Ott Luuk's comments (not too harsh at all) spoke to Jim Jirka's question of truth vs beauty. Ott stated/asked, "My guess is that Rarindra`s photography is just a form of escapism, knowingly creating a blissful dreamworld to hang on the wall for those times you really don`t want to look out of the window....should I be scorned about growing a nice garden with roses and stuff around my house when my country`s forests are being cut down for quick profit...?

I would asnwer that question by stating that it's all very much a matter of intent. If, along with some roses, you also planted your head in the dirt - ostrich-and-sand-wise, I'd say that, yes, you should be scorned. Is that what Rarindra is doing? I don't know for certain, but, in the absence of any statement of intent otherwise....

Rarindra has a very broad presence on the www. I can find nothing about his intent other than his statement to me - "You should visit my beautiful country someday.", which is usually accompanied by a statement about the "millions" of beautiful places and "objects" available to be photographed. He seems to love and take great pride in his country.

Sure. OK. Fine. But, if Rarindra had offered even just a hint that his fanciful photographs spoke to the "innocence lost" in the face of the horrid human degradation that exists in his beloved country, I might not be inclined to venture that Rarindra's photographs are a very fine example of fiddling while Rome burns.

Or, to put it an American context, how would you feel about idyllic and fanciful photographs of black children frolicking carefree in Elysian Fields as representative of our "beautiful" country?

urban ku # 19

2007-01-12T13:23:00.000Z

The Blue Spruce Motel on Rt. 9N near Au Sable Chasm. I think The Blue Spruce is a seasonal motel but I am not certain about that. It's just down the road from Au Sable Chasm and I imagine that many tourists who stayed here stopped by Clare & Carl's for a Michigan.

I absolutely postively love the fact that a really big real blue spruce in the coutyard wasn't enough to convey the idea of "blue spruce" (although the real blue spruce certainly was much smaller when the place was built than it is now). They just had to add that funky man-made one as well. Don't you just wish that someone would open a really big - a couple acres or so - museum of authentic 50's roadside neon signs?

urban ku # 18

2007-01-12T13:04:00.000Z

Another "decaying" Mom & Pop establishment along Rt. 9N. just south of Plattsburgh, NY. Although, in this case, it's a thriving landmark business during the spring/summer/fall season. And, believe it or not, the camera was dead level - Clare and Carl's is an authentic architectual fun house.

Around these parts Clare & Carl's is known as the in-place to go for the finest Michigan hot dogs or a "Michigan", as they are commonly called. A Michigan is a steamed hot dog on a bun smothered in a meat sauce, onions opptional. The name "Michigan" originated in Plattsburgh, NY around 1927 at place called Nitzi's, which was also on Rt.9. Clare & Carl's dates from 1942. It's kind of odd that, even though you can get a meat sauce smothered hot dog in Michigan (the state), nobody there knows what a "Michigan" is.

re: comments and paricipation

2007-01-11T15:51:00.000Z

yesterday, Mary Dennis wrote (in part): "...I know this may seem like a quiet place to you but...I hope you continue to post."

It may have seemed that I was whining about the lack of comments (ok, you got me on that one) but let me explain.

My hope for The Landscapist is that it will take on some of the characteristics connonated in various parables - casting bread upon the water, loaves and fishes, sowing seeds - found in the Bible (I should note here that Bertrand Russell's Why I Am Not A Christian is one of my favorite essays/books). I interpret those parables as stories about synergy - small actions that reverberates beyond their modest beginnings, or, something that is greater than the sum of its parts.

In my dreams and visions, I see The Landscapist something like this - acting in my role as a photography-disciple, I sow seeds about photography on the waters of the www, where, thanks to the fertilizing efforts (comments and participation) of the multitude (you guys), the seeds sprout into life with many branches, leaves and fruit. In the resultant harvest of the nearly embrassing abundance of nourishment and riches, many of the multitude find their way to their own personal photographic heaven.

There you have it. It's simple enough, it's a two-way street.

So, please send your tributes and donations to: The Right Reverend Hobson, Church Under the Bridge Building Fund, Au Sable Forks, NY. OR, if you prefer, operators are standing by at our toll-free number, 1.EGO.IST.ICAL. All major credit cards accepted. Thank you.

FEATURED COMMENT: Jim Jirka wrote (in part): "...when I send my donation to the Rev Hobson, will I get that holy lucky charm as a gift of your appreciation?

publisher's comment: "No comment"

re: Photo Submissions

2007-01-11T15:22:00.000Z

photocapcod wrote (in part): "If you ask for submissions, you should be posting them. If you don't intend to post the other people's photographs, don't ask for them...."

Steve Durbin wrote (in part): "I like seeing other photographers here, but I think the curatorial function is important...."

Let me clarify. I do want photo submissions. I do intent to publish as many of them as I (the curator) judge to be either pertinent to topics at hand or feasible - feasible, as in, I can't possibly publish them all.

Please remember that this is a personal blog about photography, not a post-at-will photo forum. As today's post of Rarindra Prakarsa's photographs demonstrates, the blog is not all about my photography. It is indeed about the photography of others as well. However, like a magazine publisher/editor, I reserve the right to edit content.

Re: content - While I certainly draw attention to particular photographers and photographs, the photographs that I am most interested in are those that, whatever their referent/connoted (content/form) merits may be, draw attention to issues and ideas about the medium of photography (and by extension, Art) itself.

So, please continue to keep the cards and letters coming...BUT...if offense will be taken or ill-will engendered if photographs aren't published, perhaps it is better all the way around not to send submissions.

Rarindra Prakarsa

2007-01-11T13:21:00.000Z

I am from Jakarta, Indonesia. A country with million place and object to photograph. A beautiful country indeed. Now, I am a semi-pro photographer, enjoying my job/hobby & selling my stock-photo. Photographing since 1995.

As many of you already know, I am NOT a fan of sentimental tripe photography-wise. I find the legions of drama-queen landscape/nature photographers, who spew out endless reams of images of a world made up of never-ending golden light vistas, to be a particulary unimaginative and contemptible lot of eco-pornographers. My issue with them is not with their style of photography per se, but rather with what I (and many others) believe to be the detrimental effect that their photography has on conservation and the evironmental cause - "...picture-book nature, scenic and sublime, praiseworthy but not battle-worthy. Tarted up into perfectly circumscribed simulations of the wild, these props of mainstream environmentalism serve as surrogates for real engagement with wilderness, the way porn models serve as surrogates for real women. They are placebos substituting for triage." - Lydia Millet, High Country News (the eco-pornographer link goes to the complete article).

But, back to Rarindra Prakarsa's photographs. When I first encountered these photographs in his portfolio on photo.net, I got all flustered and flummoxed. I'm not suppose to like this stuff - altered and romanticized landscapes littered with incessantly picture-book perfect children. Yikes!! How many cliches can you cram in a single photograph?

But, so help me, like the proverbial car wreck scene, I couldn't stop looking. And looking. And looking.

So, I emailed Rarindra and asked, ...what is your artistic intent with these photographs? The response - "Thank you for enjoying my pictures. You should visit my beautiful country someday." - really didn't answer the question other than to reinforce the initial impression created by his photographs that his country is beautiful.

He did give me permission to post them on The Landscapist, so here they are. I think they are pertinent because, take out the kiddies, they are classic landscape photographs albeit in a rather romanticized genre. With the kiddies they become something else...

I am beginning to see them as a sort of children's fable in the style of the illustrator Chris Van Allsburg's The Mysteries of Harris Burdick and The Polar Express (especially his style as adapted for the movie). As in many of Van Allsburg's illustrations, in Rarindra's photographs much is left to the observer's imagination to fill in the "blanks". For me, there is a sense of mystery about them. I am drawn into a world that's a little off-kilter where something's going on that I can't quite grasp and, for some reason that I can't quite express yet, they seem to be something more than just sentimental idyllics.

For all I know, maybe Rarindra's intent with these photographs is nothing more than an attempt to create hyper-Kodak/Hallmark moments. Perhaps because of language issues, he didn't really respond to my question about intent.

Nevertheless, I am very eager to hear your thoughts on these photographs.

FYI

2007-01-10T16:59:00.000Z

I haven't posted many photo submissions of late. That is not due the fact that there haven't been any. To the contrary, there have been a fair number of them. It is due, in part, to the fact that I am trying of late to post photographs which are pertinent to the topic at hand. It is also due, in part, to the fact that I published a few during the holidays that were virtually ignored, or, at least, not commented on (due, no doubt, to a drop in the number of visitors during the holidays).

Of course, it could also have been that you all just didn't like them or think that they fit The Landscapist motif. But, on the topic of "I didn't like it", I would like to note that The Landscapist does NOT subscribe to the adage, "If you don't have anything good to say, say nothing at all." Please feel free to blast away (hopefully in an agreeable manner).

I am giving thought to publishing a smorgagbord post of photo submissions. Any thoughts on that?

Dormant # 37 ~ Aaron Hobson

2007-01-10T16:38:00.000Z

On the topic of increasing comments/participation, one should never underestimate the adage that "sex sells". My son recently discovered the wisdom of that time-tested-and-proven hook on his flickr group, Deathscapes. His photos normally garner about 30 views a day and around 5/6 comments total...but...put the word "sex" in the tags and whammo - 147 views/13 comments in 12 hours.

I don't know where he gets that kind of behavior from (must be his mother- my ex) because I, of course, would never stoop to posting a sexually suggestive photograph on The Landscapist.

FEATURED COMMENT: Mary Dennis wrote (re: making comments on The Landscapist): "...I'm uneasy with fact that I can't edit or delete my comments if I were to choose to....Those letter security things drive me crazy.... I like interesting and thoughtful conversation as much as anybody but the internet has never really tripped my trigger in that regard. I try but somehow something seems to be missing from the dynamic."

publisher's response: First and foremost, thanks very much for your continued participation and expression of appreciation for The Landscapist. That said, you bring up some good points about commenting on blogspot.com in particular and the internet in general.

You can delete a comment at any time - look for the little trash can on the bottom of your comment. The security thing is a pain for me as well but it does prevent spamming. Other blog services have different ways of dealing with spamming but it seems that they all require some form of manual input from the commenter.

Regarding the internet dynamic, I tend to agree. Face-to-face conversation is the best. Phone conversation would be next best on my list and Internet talk falls below either of those...BUT...we are "talking" across a great distance and we're not running up a big phone bill. I also like the fact, like in a group face-to-face, that others can jump into the conversation and add their 2 cents. There is something to be said for that.

FEATURED COMMENT: Jim Jirka wrote : "...I like the image a lot. To me it is not a question of sex, but I can understand the connotations. I like it more for the dramatic interplay of light and shadow which to me makes the image 'sexy'."

dis-ease # 3 and a comment about "soup"

2007-01-10T14:09:00.000Z

Winter is trying to make an appearance, lame though it might be. There's nothing of consequence in the forecast.

You may have noticed that my last few posts have had Polaroid photographs attached. The reason for this is simple - in my fevered state to taste a new flavor I hauled out the Polaroid SLRs, purchased some film, and started to photograph. Much to my surprise, I discovered how much I had forgotten about, a) the good old days of analog photography, and b) the magic and addiction of Polaroid photography.

Now I am well aware of the dangers of advancing decrepitude. I try like hell not to use phrases like, "...back when I was a (insert a younger age)..." or "...barefoot in the snow, uphill both ways..." and so on....but....back when I was a photo rookie, I processed and printed the very first roll of film I ever used. Film processing seemed rather mechanical and uninsipiring, after all, everything happened in complete darkness or in the can. You got the developer to temperature, watched the clock (timer) and agitated on schedule. Ho hum. Important for sure, but still, ho hum.

Then came the fun part - making a print and those moments of magic watching the image appear while the paper was in the soup. It really was like magic. First there was nothing on the paper, and then, ever so slowly, as if by magic, an image starts to appear - faint at first, but, as the paper sloshes around with more rocking of the developer tray, hot damn, a picture comes to life.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing, in the digital domain that comes close to replicating that magic, nothing. If you haven't experienced it, you should. Go to whatever lengths you must, but do it. IMO, you really don't know the magic of photography until you do.

The only substitute photographic experience that I know of that, in a small way, replicates the magic of watching an image emerge in the soup is Polaroid photography. Press the shutter and out comes a print on which an image slowly emerges as it develops. Sure, you miss out on the joy inhaling noxious brain-deadening chemicals, but it's a bit of the old magic nevertheless.

This point was driven home recently when my 2 year old grandson, Hugo, who has his own 6mp digital camera (see some of his photos here), watched with a great deal of fascination as a Polaroid image slowly emerged on a print in his hands. He was very intrigued to, as he put it, "see what happens".

So, if you haven't done and can't do the wet darkroom thing, you really do owe it to yourself to pick up a Polaroid camera - used SLRs on ebay - and experience the magic of "seeing what happens". If you do, just beware of the Polaroid Addiction thing - once the Polaroid was fully developed, Hugo's next words were, "more, Papa".

Easy for him to say, since he's not shelling out a buck a pop.

FEATURED COMMENT: Mary Dennis wrote: "...you are so right about the magic of the wet darkroom. And not only because of the magic of watching an image emerge in the developer tray. When my two daughters where really little, about one and five years old, I built a little darkroom in the corner of our musty old basement and it became a cave, a quiet refuge for me when life got crazy. That was my magic place and it had a door that locked from the inside!! ..."

publisher's comment: Mary, you are so absolutely right about the cave/refuge aspect of the wet darkroom. Every darkroom that I ever had served exactly that kind of "refuge" function. Thanks very much for the vivid reminder. I'll be remodeling my home office/"studio" soon and somehow I need to incorporate the notion of "refuge".

Technorati

2007-01-09T20:43:00.001Z

Technorati Profile

dis-ease # 2 and a comment

2007-01-09T13:43:00.000Z

This is what's passing for an early January winter morning here in the Adirondack north country. Photographed comfortably in a t-shirt and shoes without socks, although I did find it necessary to tuck the Polaroid print in my armpit - Cold Weather Polaroid Development Technique # 1.

Comment on a tempest in a teapot - Much is being made on a number of blogs about a very minor difference of photography opinion between Alec Soth and Robert Polidori.

The point of contention, such as it is, revolves around the absence of people in Polidori's Katrina book, After the Flood - Soth wants people, Polidori does not. Soth did not actually state that he wanted people in Polidori's Katrina photographs. Basically, what he seems to want is Katrina photographs with more emphasis on Katrina's people-oriented tragedy - "If we are going to have images from events like Katrina in our galleries, museums and libraries (as I think we must), I hope they aren’t limited to stiff, large-format photography."

It seems that (amongst other things) Polidori took umbrage at the phrase "stiff, large-format photography" and posted a response on Soth's blog and the rest will be fast-disappearing history in the blogosphere.

What I find interesting about the whole deal is 2-fold:

#1 fold) The affair is unbelievably tame when judged by some of the Great Battles of the Literary Titans of the past century. If the blogosphere wants a battle (see # 2 fold), and it seems that it does, I want to see blog-batants get it on in the fashion of Gore Vidal v. Wm. F. Buckley circa 1968 wherein verbal and nearly physical combat were joined. In one exchange Vidal called Buckley a "pro-crypto Nazi", to which a visibly livid Buckley replied: "Now listen, you queer. Stop calling me a crypto Nazi, or I'll sock you in the goddamn face and you'll stay plastered." Now that's a difference of opinion. Ahh, the good old days.

#2 fold) One thing I've learned from my time spent on online forums/blogs is that, protestations to the contrary, everybody loves a fight/flame war. Consider this - In typical blog fashion, a very popular blog about photography - The Online Photographer goes about its daily business and generates a very modest number of comments, especially so when judged against its daily traffic - 6,000 page views a day. I can't tell you what the over all average number of comments per post is but, on the latest 15 posts in January, there 136 comments for an average of under 10 comments per post.

Leverage that average against the 31 comments on what turned out to be a controversial topic, T.O.P. Photographer of the Year 2006 post. Note also that commenting was "closed" at 31 comments and who knows how many comments weren't allowed (comments on T.O.P. are allowed only after moderator review). The bruhaha spead out across the blogospere in a manner similar to that of the Soth/Polidori thing.

Also consider this - On an online nature photography forum where I was known as an enfant terrible (because of my passionately held and expressed views on photography), my photography posts garnered a relative handful of comments unless they were accompanied by a passionate statement of one kind or another. Then, all hell would break loose. Out came the flame-throwers and comments and views soared.

It seems that most people love a fight. So much so that, if I wanted to increase the number of comments here on The Landscapist, it would seem wise to start a war of words with someone or about something. Even though the web, and blogs in particular, are a 2-way highway, it's a pity that more people don't respond to thoughtful ideas. I guess, as Thoreau opined, it's just part of human nature that most people live lives of quiet desperation, unless, of course, there is rage or anger at the fore.

dis-ease # 1 - a Triptych

2007-01-08T17:00:00.000Z

"If we are to change our world view, images have to change. The artist now has a very important job to do. He's not a little peripheral figure entertaining rich people, he's really needed..." ~ David Hockney

The notion/idea/concept of "Art" has been discussed endlessly - some might even say "ad nauseam". Discussions often center around the question, what is Art? or its associate, is it Art?, is it a noun or is it a verb?, maybe both?, is it democratic (art) or is it elitist (Art)?, is it serious or is it frivolous?, should it serve egocentricity or universality?, should it soothe and entertain or should it confront and agitate?, what is good art or what is bad art?, etc., etc., etc.

I don't mean in any way to imply that questions should not be asked or that answers should not be offered. Over the past few years, during which I have been able to concentrate more and more on my personal photography, I have been pondering a wealth of art issues. My "answers" to most of the questions haven't really changed all that much from those of years past - for the most part, they have undergone a bit of fine tuning.

For the record, I have always felt that Art is much better than art...that Art that is "serious" is better than art that is "frivolous"...that Art that agitates is better than art that soothes...that Art that is born of ego but nevertheless connects to the universal is the best Art of all...that art, like religion, that panders to the masses is little more than an opiate that deadens the mind and spirit...that Art that is "difficult" is good and art that is "easy" is bad...and please. please don't tell me that "good" and "bad" are just a matter of "taste".

That said, the one aspect of Art that, more and more, I am subscribing to above all others is the aforementioned quote/opinion by David Hockney.

But, let me add a very important caveat - there is a popular sentiment that Art that is serious, Art that seeks to agitate, Art that goes beyond entertainment must be either "ugly" or "boring", That, in fact, not only is (must) the very object of the camera's gaze always ugly and boring (or trite), but that the resulting photograph will (must) inevitably be joyless (i.e., not entertaining) and pedantic.

To which I respond, "Nuts". I believe that "serious" Art (in this case, Photography, and in this specific case, dis-ease #1) can be both illustrative and illuminating.

I mean "illustrative", not just in the sense of being merely descriptive, but in the fullest sense of being visually entertaining and engaging. Photographs that evidence, on one level, the simple joy of seeing - as in dis-ease # 1.

I mean "illuminating" in the sense of - to be enlightened, as with knowledge - that can come only from being fully engaged in the world around one's self. By" fully engaged", I mean Photography that is not just about people, places and things (the referent) that appeal to the visual senses, but Photography that is also about ideas - thoughts (the connoted) that engage the intellect and the emotions - as in dis-ease # 1.

So I ask, What could be better than a life lived fully engaged?

about the photograph: What is it about man's seemingly basic need/desire for order? ~ Polaroid SLR 680 with 600 series film.

The Snapshot Aesthetic

2007-01-05T15:09:00.000Z

Another interior landscape - Oddly enough, and sort of out-of-the-blue, last fall a traveling 3 ring circus (Carson & Barnes) came to our little hamlet of about 800 souls here in the Airondacks. It was weird for a number of reasons: like, why, of all places, here? and, the way in which they showed up in the morning, set up the whole deal, including the main tent (with the assistance of elephants) and various side show attractions, put on afternoon and evening shows, and then packed up during the night. By the next morning they were gone, leaving not a single trace of their passing. I guess you might have to live in a sleepy little hamlet in the largest wilderness in the eastern US to understand how surreal the whole thing seemed.

In any event, I have posted this photograph as an opportunity to discuss the "snapshot" aesthetic. On the recent urban landscape thread, Billie commented that "...I have a holga lens attahed to the body cap for my digital camera....I want the digital combo to work but I'm not sure. I think part of the reason it isn't going to work is because I have a different attitude with the holga in my hands than I do with a dslr...but there may be no Holga but a holga."

Since Billie is a newbie here (comment-wise), I checked out her blog, billieblog, an found this The Holga Vision post whereon she poses the question, "What is it about a Holga Camera that lets a photographer see just a little differently?"

Good question. But for me, the answer is to refute the basis for the question - I don't see differently with different cameras. When photographing in my non-commercial/personal state of mind, I tend to carry my way of seeing - the vision thing - over to whatever camera/format I am using - from my 8x10 view camera on down the line to my krappy kameras.

No matter the camera or optics, analog or digital, I always crop to square. I always blur and burn the corners of my prints. I always aim for "natural" color. I almost always work the slightly wide to normal range of the optics spectrum. I always print "small" (by current gallery standards). And, my gaze is always deadpan and "casual" appearing. FYI, I use the word appearing because, even though my photographs appear to be randomly "composed", they are anything but.

Why? Simply because I want my photographs to have the initial feel and impression of snapshots. I don't want observers to be put off by formal technique and presentation that screams, "This Is Art! Sit up straight and pay attention. I don't want to have to tell you twice!" I want my photographs to be "accessible" to the casual viewer, not just those with "artistic" sensibilities, although I know that my photographs swing both ways.

My photographs certainly say a great deal about me, but, ultimately, it is the referent and the connoted that I want the observer to connect with. I am not photographing for glory and adulation (well, a little wouldn't hurt). It is making a connection with the observer that turns me on.

My photographic gaze almost always focuses on simple everyday things - my referent. In a broad sense, the connoted that I hope to convey to observers of my photographs is an appreciation for the simple beauty of unadorned life and living.

So, that's why I see and why present the fruits of my seeing in a simple appearing snapshot aesthetic - no matter the means of photographing.

ku # 448 ~ Time to die; thoughts on photography, rage against The Machine, and legacy

2007-01-04T13:23:00.000Z

"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe....All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.." ~ the last words of Ray Batty, a replicant (androids which are claimed to be "more human than human"), from the movie Blade Runner.

Blade Runner is one of my favorite movies. I was re-viewing it recently and I heard Ray Batty's last words in a whole new light, a lightweight photo-epiphany of sorts. - at least at the time I thought it was lightweight. However, upon further consideration, I am coming to an awareness about the medium of photography which is considerably heavier than I first thought.

In a glib kind of fashion, my first thought (honest, my very first thought) upon hearing Batty's words this time around was...didn't he have a camera? I mean if I were seeing attack ships on fire on the shoulder of Orion and C-beams glittering in the darkness at Tannhauser Gate, I'd be filling up some memory cards like there was no tomorrow. Then again, I'm not a replicant and I don't know the answer to the question, "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" (the title of the book by Philip K. Dick that the movie Blade Runner was based on).

Nevertheless, dreams/memories are a big item in Blade Runner. When designing and producing replicants, the Tyrell Corporation found it important to "program" memories into replicants - memories of childhood and a past life, which, of course, they never had. The Tryell Corporation deemed memories integral to being human and I'm not about to disagree.

One of the renegade replicants, Leon, even has photographs that reinforce his (programmed) memories. In this replicant's case, it would be accurate to say that the photographs are his memories. In order to be more human than human, Leon must have his photographs. In an interesting twist, another replicant, the ever-luscious ("ever", because she has no pre-programmed termination date - unlike the 4 year life span of Ray, Leon and Pris) Rachael, must forget her memories, throw out her photos, and start again in order to begin a new "life".

Either way, memories and the photographs which create, supplement and mediate them, are given due weight in the plot line of Blade Runner.

Anyone who has taken the time to read my Artist's Statement knows that dreams and memories are an integral part of my photography and the motivations/inspirations that drive it. Even though my individual photographs are labeled "ku" (see 2nd entry - titled FYI) , the body of work is labeled Adirondack Dream Memories. No one has to tell me about the importance of dreams and memories. I have been exploring that notion for quite a while now.

What's always puzzled me about my photography quest is "why". I know that I'm curious. I know that I'm visually "gifted". I know that I have a drive to discover and express the unthought known. But, I am beginning to realize that perhaps a large part of my artist-hood is driven quite simply (like Ray Batty quest to meet his maker) by a rage against the Machine.

In my case, The "Machine" has many faces - from a few personal pet-peeves like ubiquitous cliche-driven landscape/nature photography or the culture of consumption which destroys souls and the environment, to the universal grand-daddy of all Machines, death. Ray Batty was certainly exhibiting a formidable rage against that particular Machine.

In the context of the Death Machine, I am struck by 2 other book titles - both written by the great American artist, Rockwell Kent - It's Me, O Lord and This is My Own. Rockwell Kent lived just down the road from me here in the little hamlet of Au Sable Forks. The books are Kent's collective autobiography and in them he lays down his memories proudly and empahatically (I think with a bit of defiance) proclaiming, O lord, this is me, this is what i have created and nobody can take it away!

Unlike most of us artists of the mere mortal variety, Kent's artistic legacy is assured. His works are enshrined in museums throughout the world (especially in the former Soviet Union) and in too many illustrated books to mention (actually, I'll mention one - I received for Xmas a copy of Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass illustrated by Rockwell Kent).

So, all of this has caused me to think a bit more about my legacy, in this case, photography-wise (although, this O lord, is part of me, it is my own). Sure, there are a couple coffee table books of my photography out there: one (photo journalism) in which my work is the featured photography (but not only photography); one (still life) which is based entirely on my photography. Sure, I'm working on getting a book deal done - a monograph of my Adirondack Dream Memories. Sure, I have photographs hanging on walls in homes and a few galleries. Sure, sure.

But, I want more than that and, in today's world of internet-based custom photo book printers, I'm going to get it. As some already know, I believe that custom photo books represent an important step forward, full of possibilities for photographers. I intend to pursue the "diary" as legacy possibilties.

Right now, most of my "diary" is on disks and hard drives. For all intents and purposes, it is rather invisible - a sad state for something so visual. I don't have nearly enough wall space in my house to accommodate my "diary" and even if I printed really small so to fit them all in, my house isn't very portable or reproducible. And, because they're so inexpensive to create (a hard bound book of 20 photographs in most cases costs less than one custom lab made 8x10 print), lots of them.

Make no mistake about it, I really like original photographic prints, mine and other's, but I'm beginning to feel that photo books are my real medium. I like the fact that you can create a more complete narrative than you can with a single print. They're portable. You can print just one. You can print 100. You can lend them to friends. Take them on vacation. You can place 5 different ones on a coffee table and have 100 (or more) photographs within easy reach of anyone. They can be viewed and appreciated in a car, on the can, in bed, on a plane....

And, as Colin Jago wrote on a Steve Durbin post on Art &Perception, "...one of the reasons that I like photo books... When closed they are closed. They are fresh again when I open them."

So, books it is.

After all, I've seen things like you people haven't seen them. I don't want all of those moments to be lost in time, like tears in rain.

FEATURED COMMENT: John Joannides wrote: "Interesting way of putting it, raging against the machine, and in some ways I think it's accurate for many photographers. For me, as an example, my machine happens to be the grind of daily life. Doing things that one wouldn't choose to do except for the need to earn money and fight negative entropy. The rage manifests itself as exploration of life and fantasy via photography and other types of image making. A ying to the yang. Or at least that is a part of it, but then again so many hobbies and callings are in a way. People are just compelled to do them."

FEATURED COMMENT: Steve (no longer semi-anonymous) Lawler wrote (in part): "Roy's time to die scene defines Blade Runner to me; I count it among the most profound in my cinematic experience. It’s compelling precisely because it articulates the fleeting and bittersweet essence of the human condition. As I’d mentioned previously, your work is analogous to the extent that it facilitates this recognition of the divine in the mundane. After all is said and done, it’s about immortality."

urban landscape

2007-01-03T15:38:00.000Z

Do you ever feel like you just have to get outside the box? Even though you might be very absorbed in a long term project (a box of sorts), you still just have to taste something different. Not a change of diet, just a different flavor for the palette. That's where I am at this moment.

For me, it's looking more and more like a return visit to my much-favored toy camera genre - the Polaroid. In this case, the Polaroid 680 SLR simply because I can still get film for it (not so for my favorite SX 70 cameras). The camera itself is actually very sophisticated - it is an SLR, has a glass lens, AF, and wide range of aperture/shutter settings (albeit auto) - but the prints are rather toy-like in as much as the color, contrast and print size are all "pure" Polaroid-centric.

The one digital-era variation on those Polaroid-centric characteristics is that they are now open to digital darkroom mods. My plan is to scan the originals to preseerve the Polaroid-centric characteristics with the possible exception of print size. Well scanned and enlarged Polaroid prints are, IMO, very intriquing.

My choice is also based on the fact that the digital domain has me extremely addicted to instant feedback and, at one point in the analog past, Polaroid was the only game in town for that. Speaking of the analog past, I also have an ever stronger desire to use film, to be at least partially analog. I'm not at the point where I'm ready to start dragging the 8x10 with color neg film around, but I'm getting close. I figure the Polaroid thing will help stave off that particular inevitable for a while longer.

I am not going to replace my dslr photography with the Polaroid. I'll just be bringing it along where ever I go.

Anyone else feeling, or, felt the same way? What are/did you do?

the photographs - I mentioned in my previous James Brown post that I did a Day-in-the-Life (of Pittsburgh PA) project for Pittsburgh Magazine. One of my areas to photograph was the Hill District, Pittsburgh's once pre-eminent and thriving - then and now decaying - black neighborhood.

I photographed the assignment entirely with Polaroid cameras - SX-70, SLR 680, and a Spectra Onyx - although I did carry 2 Nikons on my shoulders so people would take me seriously. The photographs are from that assignment. New Granada - SX-70 camera and Time-Zero film. Before the Funeral - Polaroid SLR 680 and 600 film (faster than Time-Zero film).

FEATURED COMMENT: anonymous wrote: "Film does exist for the SX-70, called SX-70 Blend. It's available from unsaleable.com."

publisher's response: Thanks for the link. I am very pleased to know that someone has picked up the manufacturing of SX-70 film albeit a different film. I will give it a try a some point, but at $38 US + shipping per 10 photo pack, I won't be using it to get the current Polaroid monkey off my back.

Other original SX-70 film (Time-Zero) characteristics aside, does anyone know if the emulsion on the new stuff is as maleable as the old stuff? I really enjoyed making photographs like these with Time-Zero film - something not nearly as possible with 600 film.

urban ku # 17/17a

2007-01-02T13:22:00.000Z

An anonymous commenter wrote, "when asked....color? Prose. Black and White? Poetry."

I never thought of it exactly that way before. To my eye and sensibilities, B&W photography - with the exception of portraiture - has always been a medium of abstraction in as much as we don't see in B&W. Something is "missing" in B&W photography, something has been "altered", that something of course being color, which is a very real and ubiquitous component of our visual world. Perhaps it is the familiar ubiquitiousness of color that causes anonymous to characterize Color photography as "prose" or prosaic.

The dictionary lists as synonyms for "prosaic" - ordinary, everyday; vapid, humdrum, tedious, tiresome, and, uninteresting, although my leap from "prose" to "prosaic" may be overstating anonymous' intent, but I think not since the dictionary definition of "prose" hammers on the same notes of ordinary, everyday, dull, etc.

So I must respectfully disagree with anonymous. There exists too much good color photography - my own included - to label the color photography genre "prose" or "prosaic".

As for the contention that B&W photography is poetry, I might be inclined to venture "maybe". "Maybe", first and foremost because I am not all that comfortable using one form of art as a metaphor for another form. Photography is not poetry, or for that matter, prose, both of which traffic with and in words.

"Maybe", because, when used as an adjective, the word "poetic" can mean something with poetic qualities however manifested. But for me, the problem here is that "poetic" can also aptly describe much color photography as well.

It should not be inferred that I dislike B&W photography. I will venture that carefully crafted B&W prints can be, in and of themselves and independent of their subject matter, incredibly beautiful objects in a manner that color prints don't seem to match. B&W photography also seems well suited to describing shape and line and, perhaps, with skillful compostions of shape and line, B&W photographs can emulate, after a fashion, the rythmn and meter of poetry. But, IMO, the same can be said of color photography as well.

All of that said, it should be obvious that my chosen manner of photographic expression is the Color vernacular. I would be interested in reading the thoughts of those who have chosen the B&W vernacular as theirs.

FEATURED COMMENT: Steve Durbin wrote (in part): "...A phrase that springs to mind in this context is "poetic license." That's appropriate because B&W photographers can "get away with" much stronger image manipulation without having their images judged as overly manipulated, for the very reason that they've already abstracted their image from reality by dispensing with color. Thanks to historical accident, viewers have a level of acceptance of black and white images that can be and is taken advantage of by photographers...."

FEATURED COMMENT: anonymous wrote: "I think you're missing something here. In fact this entire post is based off a profound misunderstanding of the anonymous commenter's comment.

What you're missing is that prose is not necessarily prosaic. In fact it can be anything but prosaic. The two words are not synonymns despite sharing a root word, yet your post is based on prose being necessarily prosaic.

Yes, colour photography is more prose than poetry. That is due to poetry and B&W being more abstract approaches, while colour and prose are in general more descriptive. Neither need be prosaic, and both certainly can be."

publisher's response: Thanks very much for the toughtful comment.

My interpretation of the original anonymous' statement - "when asked....color? Prose. Black and White? Poetry." - was based on the dictionary definition of "prose" which states; 1.the ordinary form of spoken or written language, 2.matter-of-fact, commonplace, or dull expression, quality, discourse, etc., 4.commonplace; dull; prosaic, 5.to write or talk in a dull, matter-of-fact manner. The dictionary also states that poetry is a quality that suggests grace, beauty, and harmony.

But, without going all didactic or donnish, I inferred that anonymous was opining that bw photography was superior to color photography as in grace and beauty trump dull and commonplace. Maybe that's not what he meant. Maybe he just used the wrong analogy.

In any event, I do agree with you that when it comes to photography, color or bw, neither need be prosaic, and both certainly can be.

The Godfather of Soul - a New Year's Eve reflection on a social landscape

2006-12-31T18:19:00.000Z

In the Tidbit post of a few days ago I mentioned places that had an emotional and physical impact upon me. This post is about an event that grabbed me by the balls and wouldn't let go.

This morning, as I was having a cup of coffee, I was reading an article in the morning paper about James Brown and the tribute gathering of over 8,500 people in Augusta, Ga. One woman commented that it was 30 years ago that she first saw James Brown in concert, and, WHAMMO, I realized that it was 30 years ago that I first saw him in concert. correction - it was 40 years ago that I first saw him (thanks to Gary Filkins for catching this one).

Actually, I wasn't in attendance as a concert-goer, I was there to photograph the event and that's why my photographs have an on-stage perspective - that's where I was, on stage with The Godfather of Soul. With all of the whirling dervish and raw emotional/physical energy that James Brown put down, being on stage, at times between him and the audience, was a hair raising and spine tingling experience, to say the least. But that's only part of the story.

Those of you who are good with math and have a good memory (or a knowledge of history) will have already deduced that this performance took place during that mid-sixties period of "long, hot summers" when many American black inner-cities erupted with riots. Riots, that for many, seemed rather unreal or Kafka-esque - this was America after all, things like that don't happen here. Well, in fact, things like that did happen, as well as the lynching of blacks, the murder of young civil rights workers, and the assassination of black and white leaders. To say that there was racial divide and anger in America was a vast understatement. And, to say that there were some angry black men (and women) - many, rightfully so - was also an understatement.

So, there I was, a big-target, Levittown-style raised (no blacks here), private school (no blacks here) white boy, sandwiched (figuratively and literally) between two social landscapes and sandwiched between the Godfather and his held-in-the-palm-of-his-hand emotionally-charged audience. There might have been another white guy in the place - a huge packed-to-the-rafters auditorium/gymnasium/plane hanger (on the island of Okinawa, Japan and if memory serves, on an Air Force base) - but, if there were, he wasn't anywhere near my fish-bowl like spot. Safe to say , James Brown was not the only one sweating on stage (another understatement).

Did I feel in physical danger? Kind of sort of, but not really. Was it stupid to feel that way? Kind of sort of, but not really - it only takes one idiot (black or white) in a crowd to start a riot. Did I feel a deep and disturbing sense of ill-at-ease? Oohhh, yes. Was it because I was surrounded by a sea of black people? Yes, but not because they were black. Were there any problems? No, not a single one. Nothing. Nada. Did I come away changed? Yes. Up to that point in my life, the civil rights movement had my complete sympathy and support, but always in a rather intellectual and removed sort of manner. Did I plan to become a civil rights worker in the deep south or urban America? No, but I did resolve to become very actively involved in the Robert Kennedy campaign upon my return to the US - but that's a whole 'nother story.

Thank you and goodbye, Mr. Brown.

addendum - Interestingly enough, years later after moving to Pittsburgh PA, I was regularly given photography assignments (for Pittsburgh Magazine) in the Hill District - Pittsburgh's once thriving, then (and still) decaying prominent black neighborhood - simply because, talent aside, I would go there. When the magazine did a special edition day-in-the-life project, I was, of course, assigned The Hill (the inspiration for tv's Hill Street Blues) as one of my areas to cover. On assignment I was stopped by a cop who informed that I was "insane, stupid and a complete idiot" - somewhat of an overstatement, but, since I was stupid, I guess he wanted to be sure I got his point - to be walking around that neighborhood with all of that expensive camera gear hanging from my neck and shoulders.

Did I feel in physical danger? No. Did I feel a deep and disturbing sense of ill-at-ease? No. Were there any problems? No, not a single one. Nothing. Nada.

ku # 447

2006-12-30T21:57:00.000Z

Looking back at Little Whiteface around 3:30pm, 12/30/06. Actually, it's the lower reaches of Little Whiteface. Whiteface Mt. proper is lost in the ascending cloud bank on the right and continuing out of the frame. In any event, I thought the light was nice. Note the sky reflections in the foreground vehicles. As always, click on the photograph to see a larger version.

Tidbit - On Originality

2006-12-29T14:09:00.000Z

3 point play - The shot was good. The foul is evident (the ref's arm is on the way up). She converted the free throw on her way to a 27 point night. The Au Sable Valley girls whomped all over the girls from Bethpage (Long Island) during the annual Holiday Classic in the Herb Brooks Arena (aka, the 1980 Olympic rink).

a personal aside: During my life, I have had a few very emotional reactions to a few places. Places, that for a variety of personal reasons, called up memories so vivid and strong that I experienced emotions and sensations that were nearly physically overwhelming - tingly hair on the neck and arms, a little wobbly in the knees and a tweak in the gut. The Vietnam Memorial in DC, Frank Lyold Wright's Falling Water in Ligioner PA, and the 1980 Olympic Rink (now known as the Herb Brooks Arena) are at the top of the list.

The first time I set foot in the Olympic arena, I felt as though I was in/on hallowed ground, a feeling that continues (slightly deminished) to this day dispite the fact that I am in the arena very frequently. Why? In a phrase, The Miracle on Ice - a landmark Cold War event.

A bunch of college-age kids, some might say a ragtag bunch, did what was considered the impossible - they defeated the mighty Soviet Red Army hockey team. At that time and in that period of national angst, hockey fan or not, it was apparent to the nation (and most probably, the world) that this was a defining Us against Them match of the Titans. USA vs the USSR. Good vs Evil. Freedom vs Repression. And fortunately, no guns or missiles. And, a more "innocent" time perhaps, but we won.

I wasn't there. I watched on tv - tape delay, prime time broadcast. Those who were in Lake Placid. but not in the arena, claimed that the chants of "USA, USA, USA" (you heard it here first) could be heard at the other end of town. I imagine that the chants also reverberated in the halls of the Kremlin as well.

Tidbit - On the notion of orginality, photographic or otherwise - "I milk a lot of cows, but, I churn my own butter." ~ by fictional character Rev. Jamison in the book Company Man by Joseph Finder. I really like this take on the oft-stated idea that everything's been done before.

urban ku # 16 ~ Inside, looking out

2006-12-28T12:25:00.000Z

Kris K brought us a little snow. Just enough to make it look and feel like Xmas/winter.

this photograph - Looking out of the 1980 Olympic rink (Scene of The Miracle on Ice) at the 1980 speed skating oval where Eric Hyden did his thing. That's Lake Placid HS on the right and town hall of the left. If you click on and enlarge the photograph, you can just make out the Olympic ski jumps - a little red light just right of center on the mountains.

A recommendation

2006-12-27T16:52:00.000Z

photo-eye BOOKLIST - what others are saying: "With the number of important photography books increasing every year, a selective, intelligent, and lively guide to the best of those titles has never been so essential.", "...an indispensable source to identify current publications in photography. Even more important, in terms of discrimination and selection, are the insightful comments on new titles.", and, "...the equivalent of having a dear friend with more time than I, and a broader perspective to point out treasures while their bindings are new and the ink still fresh."

What I am saying: If, like me, you like and buy photo books, this quarterly publication is a must. It can be found in many book stores - I get mine at Borders rather than by subscription because I can pick out a clean unblemished copy. A short essay and a current issue over view can be found here. If you're a subscription-type you can subscribe here. Back copies can be had here.

I ordered this book this book although I actually purchased it at OverStock.com at a 40% discount. OverStock.com actually has a very good selection of photo books at great discount prices.

I am a firm believer in the adage "You are what you eat." and, in my not so humble opinion, there's lots o' good eats to be found in photo-eye BOOKLIST.

Holiday hiatus

2006-12-26T18:44:00.000Z

I'm back after a brief holiday break. That said, I would also note that not too much (if anything) of importance will be happening here until after Jan. 1. because, frankly, and as to be expected, readership is down significantly during the holidays. It would seem that many of you have other things going on. However, inveterate trouper that I am, I will be posting some odds and ends.

One such item is today's Recent Visitor Map (as compiled by my stat counter). While it may not be of importance to anyone but me, it is indeed significant for me - knowing that The Landscapist is being read and followed all around the planet is a big part of what keeps me going blog-wise. It is also encouraging to see (again through my web stats) how many visitors reach this blog via links that so many of you have posted on your blogs/websites. I can't possibly thank all of you individually, but I would like to extend a hardy and heartfelt collective "thank you very much" to all who have provided links and to those of you who keep coming back.

You show me yours, I'll show you mine

2006-12-22T16:04:00.000Z

When I was a little kid (Hugo, are you listening), I used to play "you-show-me" with my next door neighbor, Ginger Dockweller (same age, different sex), but that's not what I had in mind here.

This is our family"s Xmas card. Did you make one using your photography? (I know Michelle Parent did - thank you Michelle). Will you show me yours? I showed you mine.

publisher's Addendum: Someone who received this card responded with, "SO...Have some liqueur, get merry and go to the hotel and have sex? I like it!" - which only goes to demonstrate the imprecision of the connoted or "meaning" in a photograph.

On the chance that someone out there likes my Xmas triptych, it's available as a signed, numbered (open edition) print - 6x11 inches, ultrachrome ink on Epson Enhanced Matte paper at the Low Low Christmas Season Discount price of only $25.00 US. Shipping not included. Contact me to purchase.

FEATURED COMMENT: see Joe Decker's Xmas card

Brian Chapman & Anil Rao

2006-12-22T14:53:00.000Z

I recently came back from the southern Washington coast which provided a good opportunity to work with long exposures and water.The first is a long exposure of a winter storm rolling in. The three stripes in the foreground are sets of crashing waves. This night image was taken at the edge of a parking lot with a large tree and a light behind it casting a shadow on the high tide. I normally like to include some static "anchor" in long exposures but as this doesn't have anything that wasn't in motion I consider it more toward the abstract end of the spectrum. As for me (you probably have not heard of me), photography is not my career although I spend much of my spare time working on it in some way or another. Although I shoot completely digital I don't really consider these "converted" images because in my mind they were monochromatic from the beginning. ~ Brian Chapman

I started ballroom dancing last February. Since then, I believe I have been spending more time and energy on this new pursuit than I do making photos. Recently, a good friend asked me if dancing has an effect – positive or negative – on my photography. I don’t remember consciously noticing any connection between the two activities and was therefore pleasantly surprised to find this photograph in my collection....Could my dancing have really played a role in the making of these images? ~ Anil Rao

publisher's comment: I have created a 2-for-the-price-of-one post with Brian and Anil because their submissions appeared nearly simultaneously and both relate to the recent topic of "abstracts", but, IMO, in very different ways.

Most of the recent discussion about "abstracts" has centered around photography that falls into my category of reality-based impressionism and Anil's photograph falls rather neatly into that description. Brian's photograph, on the other hand, has pretty much abandoned the notion of reality-based to create what can certainly be labeled an "abstract" in a more classic painterly sense, although, that shadow of the tree creates an interesting real/not real visual effect/affect - a we're-not-in-Kansas-anymore kind of thing. Please also note that Brian is a digital shooter who "sees" in BW before he photographs, not after).

And Anil - all I can say is, "Keep on 'dancing' "

See more of Brian Chapman's photography here and more of Anil Rao's here

ku # 446 and a personal experience re: "abstracts"

2006-12-21T14:16:00.000Z

On the topic of "abstracts" - Woven amongst my ku I have a considerable number of "abstracts" such as this one. As noted, I don't really consider them to be "abstracts". I think of them as more of a form of reality-based impressionism. I think this way because I am not just photographing the subject in order for it to function as visual vehicle which creates pleasing visual patterns/design - I am genuinely drawn to the subject in and of itself.

My wife and greatest critic (primarily regarding, but not limited to, photography) has ocassionally taken a less than favorable position regarding many of my reality-based impressionism photographs. I'll be Photoshopping my way along on one of my latest (and certainly greatest ever) reality-based impressionism photographs, and, while in motion as she passes through my office/studio, she will utter, "Not one of your best, dear." Quick on the riposte, I usually utter a low-frequency grunt-like sound.

But, not too long ago, I gained a small measure of satisfaction (because there is no advantage in gaining revenge in a marriage) on this score. I framed and mounted one of my reality-based impressionism photographs on the livingroom wall right in her reading-on-the-couch line of vision. She uttered a low-frequency grunt-like sound.

A few weeks later, as I was passing though the livingroom, she blurted out, "You know, I'm beginning to really like that photograph." Since I was on the move, I didn't pause for any exchange on the reason(s) for the change of visual heart, although, as a harmony-making courtesy, I think I muttered "Good."

I'll have to follow up on that - most probably on our next long car trip when she's belted into the seat next to me with no way out. I find that that is usually the best time to "engage" her in a long-winded discourse on the finer points of photography and art.

Michael Gordon ~ Windblown Grass

2006-12-21T13:10:00.000Z

Mr. Hobson: my name is Michael Gordon (you may have heard of me). I photograph primarily in b/w, but always in 4x5. I'm no fan either of comments such as "I like the BW effect" and "This would be a good photograph to convert to BW", so I submit to you a genuine made-on-film-and developed-in-pyro photograph of mine for The Landscapist. I believe that good b/w photography is a way of seeing BEFORE the shutter is clicked (or sensor sensed?). I'll submit that *it's too late* if the b/w idea comes as an afterthought to the exposure.

publisher's comment: Who is this guy? Anybody heard of him? Mr. Gordon claims that this photograph along with 3 others of his will be published in the Jan/Feb issue of View Camera magazine. He also stated that the photograph was "scheimflugged for your pleasure" - an obvious attempt to influence the selection committee. It worked.

See more of Mr. Gordon's BW photography

FEATURED COMMENT: Jim Jirka wrote: "Welcome to the Landscapist, Michael..... Wow, you really still use 4x5 film? Your camera must be really big."

urban ku # 15

2006-12-20T15:47:00.000Z

Tis the season and I want to wish, just like the snowman does, a "Happy Holidays" to one and all. Don't you just love the "room phones" sign above the phone booth, which appears to be a fully functioning (the light even works) example of another disappearing American icon?

FEATURED COMMENT: Michael Gordon wrote: "I'll do you one better, Mark: there's a motel in the Mojave Desert that I frequently pass that advertises "TELEVISIONS" (hoo-wee, boy). I have yet to photograph it, but I will someday."

publisher's response: Sure, sure, but does it have "Air Condition"?

FEATURED COMMENT: Anonymous (the wife) wrote: "The wife also wishes Happy Holidays to the Bloggeristas. Gravitas is really enjoying his visual verbal salon."

FEATURED COMMENT: Mary Dennis wrote: "I'm really comforted by the fact that these places still exist ...Are these relics effectively protected, sort of like living museum pieces, in the Adirondacks?"

publisher's response: I like these places a lot as well, but, no, they are not protected in any way other than by the fact that they are all mom-and-pop owned. Very few mom-and-pop's have the $$$ resources to undertake any sort of large-scale scorched-earth "renovations". It's hard enough for many of them just to do normal upkeep maintaince, especally in the "fringe" areas of the Adirondacks.

The property on which most of these sit is also usually too small for the big players (the chains and highend developers)) to be interested in. So there they sit. Some are doing quite well (depending on location), some are just getting by, and some are sliding into closure and decline. At this point I would speculate that the Villa caters mainly to workers involved in season-long public/private work projects and the "nooner" crowd. Some of their 3-room off-hwy units are probably used as residences for locals.

One way or another, these places will probably be around for a good while longer.

William Biderbost ~ foggy daze

2006-12-20T13:29:00.000Z

These photos were made at the Chicago Botanic Garden, Glencoe, IL where I was the staff photographer for seven years. After leaving in 2005 I find myself going back to photograph on my own since the moods and ethereal nature of tended gardens can yield some satisfying results. I have been particularly interested in the natural diffusion of foggy days since they bring a dreamier more surreal quality to the pictures.

publisher's comment: I find it interesting that William's photographs arrived accompanied by this statement, "I found your blog after being beaten nearly to death by sand dune and slot canyon
photos..." Interesting because William's obvious reference is to a subset of the many ubiquitous photographic cliches that crowd the landscape photography landscape, but, nevertheless, he has chosen to traffic in another photographic cliche - fog.

BUT, nevertheless, I find that his photographs transcend the fog-cliche due primarily (but not solely) to the fact that he has undertaken the task of exploring in depth the idea of "fog" and its ability to transform a particular type of landscape. Once again, like Mary D with her Fragments, William is working towards creating a series (or body) of photographs united by a common thread/concept - photography at its narrative best.

urban ku # -18,762

2006-12-19T14:59:00.000Z

Naha, Japan on the island of Okinawa. Why # -18,762? Well, I figure that I have taken at least 18,761 photographs between 1966 when this one was created and 2003 when I first started my ku series.

I have posted this photograph to emphasize that there is no taboo regarding BW photography. None. Zero. Nada. I have also put out an SOS to a few BW practioners I know to come on board. Here's hoping we see something soon. (Hey Thomas M., are you listening?)

In the mean time, I have been pondering the fate of BW photography in the digital age and the first thought that comes to mind is the word "effect". As in the comment repeated over and over on so many photo forums, "I like the BW effect." A comment that has me red-faced and screaming at my monitor, "HEY MORON, BW IS NOT AN EFFECT!!!!" A subset of this comment is the oft-repeated suggestion (upon viewing a color photograph), "This would be a good photograph to convert to BW."

The image that springs to mind is one of a befuddled and bewildered Ansel Adams casting about wondering which effect, color or BW, would be better for "Moonrise". Maybe he might decide to photograph in color because he could always convert to BW later.

Both of these comments have me concerned for the future of BW photography. Certainly there are still (double entendre) photographers who work in the BW genre and who understand the nuances of the medium's films and papers, but, like the photographic materials they work with, they seem to be an ever-diminisihing breed.

Sure, I have seen some BW inkjet prints printed with special BW ink sets that rival, and in some cases surpass, conventional/traditional BW prints. In most cases though, those prints have been made from scanned BW film originals. And, yes, there are PS/Lightroom conversion techniques that can yeld a very nice BW result. So the future isn't entirely bleak.

What happens when film disappears or becomes scarce (and costly)? Will a digital camera maker create a serious BW camera/sensor or in-camera software that allows BW photography to be the intended result?

What do you think?

And on a related topic, this photograph is from a 40 year-old BW negative. Anybody care to comment on the possible fate of 40 year-old digital files?

FYI The canal system on Okinawa, which feeds directly into the East China Sea or the Pacific Ocean (depending on which side of the island you are on), also doubled as the sewer "system". Everyday, when the tide went out (especially during the long hot summers), there was a "baking" effect that created a very pervasive odor. There's nothing I like better than a hot, humid day accented with the smell of "benjo". Although, it was something that I got use to.

FEATURED COMMENT: Brian Champman wrote: "......I know of quite a few digital photographers who focus almost exclusively on black and white (myself included)...".

publisher's disclosure Brian - Thanks for the thoughtful comments, much appreciated as always. I must admit that part of the reason behind this topic is to draw out a few digital-based BWers, and hopefully to be able to arm-twist them into sending a few photo submissions.

Mary Dennis - A Series

2006-12-18T13:46:00.000Z

On her website - twOeyesOpen - Mary Dennis has a gallery titled Fragments which displays square photographs of enviromental details. Mary has created gallery pages that are visually delightful square groupings of these photographs. I was so struck by the simple and elegant beauty of the photographs and the groupings that I arranged to purchase an entire page which I will display - under a single sheet of glass without a frame - exactly as she has designed the gallery page. My plan is to eventually acquire all the gallery pages.

Many might call Mary's detail photographs "abstracts", but I emphatically disagree - with photography's and, in this case, Mary's, unrelenting and very referent specific connection to the real, I don't see these as "abstract" at all. "Abstracts" are what painters do. Photography that deals with details - unless their referent's realism is radically altered by technique - is exactly what it is, a photograph of the "real". Now, I think that Mary has done a magnificant job of "abstracting" details from their surroundings but I don't see that making them any less "real".

I also think that Mary has done a superb job of conveying the sensations of color without resorting to the sensationalizing of color. By including photographs with generous amounts of neutral color throughout her groupings, the "natural" colors pop off the page without having to resort to Photoshop Velvia-esque saturation settings. To my eye and sensibility, this color at its best.

On another note, I am a sucker for photography series. I believe that photography is at its narrative best when it is presented as a series of photographs that are "united" by a common thread (subject, technique, etc.), but that's a topic for another time.

Nice work Mary.

FEATURED COMMENT: Paul Raphaelson wrote: "...The work that I like always has an element of abstraction. Which doesn't contradict your observation that all photography is also in some way representational...Any time you sense that form is as much a subject of the picture as the subject matter itself, you're noticing an element of abstraction..."

FEATURED COMMENT: Mary Dennis wrote: "I'm glad that the "unrelenting and very referent specific connection to real" is appparent in these images. That was one of the things I wanted to accomplish. I would like people to know what it is they are seeing--just not immediately. I agree that these aren't abstracts but fragments, the little details of the bigger picture I see around me every day."

Steve Durbin ~ "My Adirondacks"

2006-12-18T12:59:00.000Z

In the spirit of Lisa Gimber's recent submission, here's a representative view of my Adirondacks. There actually would be mountains visible in the picture (this being western Montana), but last September there was often too much smoke from distant forest fires. That also made it more monochrome than usual, which fits how I usually see. Probably less than half of my landscapes involve mountains, anyway.

Hope this submission doesn't violate a taboo on the landscapist; I don't recall seeing anything but color images in my perusals so far.

publisher's comment: No taboo is in effect. There have been only a few B&W submissions to The Landscapist - Timothy Atherton's Immersive Landscapes come to mind.

Also, another note of thanks to Lisa Gimber for her submission and her notion of "My Adirondacks". I like the idea - seconded by Steve Durbin - of seeing photography of other's "Adirondacks". That is, your place on the planet, a place that you hold near and dear. Keep those cards and letters coming.

urban ku # 14 and a (related) tidbit

2006-12-17T20:01:00.000Z

Dispite (or perhaps because of) a Roamin' Catholic grammar school childhood chocked full with choirboydom and altarboydom (to include the honorable position of Head of the Solemn-High-Mass, Funeral & Wedding Crew) - which might account for my ability to paddle a canoe non-stop for hours in the kneeling position - I am not a religious person, spiritual, yes - religious, no. More and more I find myself yearning for our culture to take a break from life 24/7 and to embrace a return to the concept/spirit - if not actual legislation - of Blue Laws.

Sunday is the core of our civilization, dedicated to thought and reverence. ~ Thoreau

Lisa Gimber ~ Caddo Lake

2006-12-16T15:35:00.000Z

Caddo Lake to me is like the Adirondack Mountains are to you. One of these years I'm going to buy a Go-Devil boat so that I can travel through those swamps whenever I feel like it and hopefully get a decent exposure. Here's a shot from last month that I like. I'm not the best composer or focuser? and still don't know how to use my camera well. Am very intimidated by what everybody else posts...Just want you to see my "Adirondack."

Publisher's comment: As far as I know Lisa Gimber has no online presence except for an occasional photo posting on one of the online nature photography forums. She has - very infrequently - sent me a few photographs asking for my opinion/advice. Lisa thinks that she is not a very good photographer, which I attribute to the fact that she doesn't know much about the "rules" and her photographs evidence that (refreshing) lack of "knowledge". That's why I like what I see - her photographs create an almost child-like (IMO, a very good thing) feeling of curiousity and observation, almost as if she is seeing something for the first time. At least, that's the experience I feel when I view her photographs.

Thanks for the submission Lisa.

FYI

2006-12-15T22:35:00.000Z

Steve Durbin wrote: "As a newcomer to your blog, I'm not sure whether there is a particular notion behind what you call ku."

publisher's response: Steve, I have not explained ku on this blog, so here goes:

The second syllable of hiaku, ku means sky or emptiness. I have labeled my photographs ku - playing on the meaning "emptiness" - for 2 reasons:

1. When I photograph, I try to photograph with as empty a mind as possible.

I try to do this because it quiets the discursive mind with its ego-centric orientation so that I might better immerse myself in the object of my photographic gaze. Hopefully, this diminishes the barrier between observer and observed in order that the object of my gaze can speak for itself in its own voice.

With an empty mind, I feel more often than not that a subject has chosen me rather than the other way around.

2. To my eye and sensibility, my photographs, when printed, are like hints and teases to answers to as yet unsolved riddles.

Upon viewing my photographs, they become somewhat like meditations. So, just as I try to photograph with an empty mind, I try to view my photographs with an empty mind. When we let go of all of our preconditioning, discarding habitual mental sets, biases and stagnant emotive states, a brush against the small and ordinary (most often the object of my photographic gaze) can connect us with - or give hints and teases to - the universal and eternal.

As Thoreau wrote, "Sometimes as I drift on Walden Pond, I cease to exist and begin to be."

FEATURED COMMENT: Steve Durbin wrote: "Your statement is lovely and stands on its own, but I fear there is a slight linguistic problem with your derivation. It works in English, but in Japanese, with its many homonyms, the "ku" character in "haiku" is not the same as the "ku" (with long u) meaning sky or emptiness (which is also the kara in karate = empty-hand)..."

publisher's response: Thanks for the linguistic lesson (seriously). It differs from my source (BTW, apropos of nothing here, I lived in Japan for a couple years) but either way, I have based my use of the syllable/character ku on that which means "emptiness". The relevance of the syllable/character with its use in the word "hiaku" is of no real importance to me, but you are certainly correct in pointing out, especially with the Japanese language, the notion of "passing through the hints and teasings of language."

FEATURED COMMENT #2: anonymous Steve wrote: "foo"

additional publisher's comment: Kent, every night before retiring, my wife makes me don a very tight fitting full face helmet to prevent any overnight head expansion.

ku # 445 - it's a pure-y

2006-12-15T13:02:00.000Z

Late yesterday afternoon - along the shore of Lake Champlain, gazing at Vermont (after a round of golf). If you look at the larger version, you can make out just a hint of the Green Mts. on the right horizon.

I now realize, after a clarifying round of mid-December-northern-latitude-shirt-sleeve golf, and after reading your comments (thank you, thank you, thank you),that I might not have been very precise in meaning with my use of the phrase pure landscape photography. Upon further consideration, I think Steve Durbin had it close to correct when he wrote, "...photography that at least does not foreground human structures or impact." - heavy on the the "natural", hold, or at least, easy on the man.

The natural world still holds mystery and majesty (for me anyways, can't speak for others). Therefore, I guess what I'm looking for out there on the infotainment highway is landscape photography that can recognise that mystery and majesty without resorting to that "particular romantic notion of the world" (sappy sentimentality) that so defined the traditional/pure landscape photography of the last century - photography that looks at the mystery and majesty with "new eyes".

From the shameless self promotion department comes this - I think that that's what I'm doing (or attempting to do) with my ku. As a somewhat anonymous Steve (not Durbin) wrote in response to my obervation/question, "One of the most compelling qualities of your ku series is its iconoclasm, facilitated by your use of the vignette action: there's an elevation of the mundane that's (for lack of a better word) haunting."

Thanks Steve. That sums it up nicely. Mind if I use it as my Artist's Statement?

urban ku # 13 and an observation with a question

2006-12-14T14:23:00.000Z

La Cage Aux Folles - Paddleboats at the Philadelphia Zoo. I hope no one is too disappointed that much of what has been published lately - mine and that of others - on The Landscapist has been from the "urban" side of the landscape genre. I haven't given up on the nature side, not by a long shot.

My gaze of late has turned to more of "man" in the Adirondacks simply because I am trying to create a more complete picture of the true nature of the Adirondack Park - yes, it is the largest wilderness east of the Mississippi (bigger than Vermont), but it is also a patch-quilt of public and private land - which is why I am able to live in a park.

the observation: But, that said, I have noticed something interesting as I plow through and down the information highway. Outside of the "traditional" nature photography forums, which tend to feature the pretty calender type photography of the landscape, there seems to be precious little new and different to discover in the "pure" landscape genre. Everywhere I look, I find photographic signs of man in the landscape.

the question: Has the traditional genre of landscape photography been shattered beyond reconstruction? Has it run its course? Is there nothing new to be said and seen?

Come on people, chime in on this one.

publisher's footnote: Thank the gods of technology for my stat counter - if I were publishing this blog based on the number of comments posted, I'd have left town long ago. Fortunately, the counter tells me that there are approximately 280 pages views a day - and rising, by approximately 185 unique visitors a day - and rising, with about 100 returning visitors a day - and rising.

Thus encouraged, I push ever forward.

FEATURED COMMENT: Toby Lloyd Jones wrote: "There never has been a 'pure' landscape. Humans have moulded it, developed it, influenced it, since the earliest times.....What you call photography of 'pure' landscape is, I think, a particular genre of photography tied to a particular romantic notion of the world. But the way we conceptualize the world keeps shifting and changing."

John Bailey ~ 7_24_2006 - 7_28_2006

2006-12-14T13:52:00.000Z

I work for an environmental consulting company in Massachusetts, myself and two co-workers were sent to Commerce, CA for a week (none of us had been to LA, or even CA before) these were the pictures I took on our downtime.

publisher's comment: One aspect of the "digital revolution" photography-wise is the freedom a photographer has to shoot, shoot, and shoot some more. With a palmful of memory cards and one of those portable mini storage drives, you can shoot (seemingly) for ever, and If someone were to ask me how to become a better photographer, my answer would be simple - "Shoot yer ass off, kid".

John Bailey seems to be doing just that. Don't know how many frames (files?) he shot in LA, but after a few days of shooting he ended up with a nifty portfolio - LA (Final Cut) - of around 150 photographs that is definitely worth a look.

ku # 444

2006-12-13T15:03:00.000Z

Some more foggy morning in and around Au Sable Forks, NY. That's Whiteface poking its top above the surrounding landscape.

publisher's update: I'm receiving a fair amount of emails expressing excitement and great anticipation regarding the Through The Looking Glass gallery. I'll keep you posted. In the mean time, keep those cards and letters coming.

Don't know whether to cry or wind my watch

2006-12-13T14:01:00.000Z

A "genre" of landscape photography that is, fortunately, a little harder (but, unfortunately, not impossible) to come by. I have no idea what my wife was searching for on the web last night when she found this little number - a photograph of our sleepy little hamlet, Au Sable Forks, NY. Now, I knew as a mental construct that this exists - fortunately, now deactivated and converted into an underground residence (I think it was for sale on eBay a while back) - but this photograph just reached out and grabbed me where I live, literally and figuratively.

As a child of the cold war era, I certainly carry a bit of "duck and cover" baggage, but I am struggling mightily to form a mental construct of my hamlet in the Adirondacks as a primary target of cold war era Soviet ICBMs. At first glance, I got that tingly hair-on-the-back-of-the-neck thing going and there is still an aspect of that that I can't shake just yet. For me, this photograph is an excellent example of a photograph with studium (a general cultural connection) and an extremely personal punctum.

PS - that's Whiteface Mt. in the background to the left of the "deterent".

See the official US Government Duck and Cover video. (Movie choices are on the left, a good choice under "Streaming" is 256k MPEG4) - an exemplary example of government "truthiness" (and outright insanity) if ever there was one. Even though the duck and cover drill was billed as a way to save your ass, it was really nothing more than, as one viewer expressed it, the time tested "Put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye" maneuver.

Aaron Hobson ~ Dormant

2006-12-13T13:40:00.000Z

I have started to put together a set of photographs inspired by the new revelation of deathscapes (a term coined by Paul Raphaelson) of Stieglitz & others as well as a small amount of Joel Peter-Witkin influence (sidebar: I remember being 13 years old sitting around at home after school, I probably should have been doing homework, but found myself thumbing through a Joel-Peter Witkin book (yes, dad had some strange books laying around to corrupt me early). This book later actually came in handy for a science class project in which I wrote a report on hermaphrodites using his work for visual aid. I seem to remember the teacher and the class - Catholic school - being quite appalled.

Another large factor in this is my background in design. I want to create photos that tell a story, and with plenty of (IMO) aesthetically pleasing "treatment", I was able to (IMO) tell the whole or deeper underlying story of the scene and myself. I know this process changes the photograph, but being a "Gen X'er", I couldn't help myself. Does this change the category of my work to Mutlimedia? or collage? I'm not sure? I still see it as the scene I shot, and simply applied what was in my mind at the time via a process in the "digital darkroom". Am I moody? sometimes, yes. Am I disturbed? depends on your taste. Do Adirondack winters bring cabin fever? sometimes yes. I believe the processing/treatment end of this will evolve and develop with time as this is just the start.

urban ku # 12 and a glimpse of what's to come

2006-12-12T16:30:00.000Z

It was very foggy this morning in and around Au Sable Forks.

a glimpse: You may have noticed the white border around this photograph. That represents how I print my photographs. In this case, a 8x8 image on a 11x11 sheet. What's the point? you might ask.

Just this - soon after the first of the year (2007), The Landscapist will launch, on a sister site, the online photography gallery Through The Looking Glass and all of the photography (mine and others) will be displayed in the manner in which they are printed.

The Through The Looking Glass gallery will be based on the premise that the current gallery world has failed all but the most "favored" of photographers - photographers whose work is printed in limited editions and sold at very high prices (of which the galleries take a big percentage).

The Through The Looking Glass gallery's mission on the other hand is to put as much photography into the hands and on the walls of those who appreciate fine photography but don't have lots of $$$$ to spend - most prints will be available for under $50.00US (what Brooks Jensen calls "real people prices"). My suspicion is that "those who appreciate fine photography" are primarily photographers themselves, many or most of whom would love to "collect" photography but find it nearly impossible to do so at gallery-world prices. Sure, I'd love to own a Meyerowitz, an Eggleston, a Shore, et al, but honestly, I'd also like to own a Fredine, a Dennis, a Durbin, or a Lloyd-Jones amongst others. Some of you might even want to own a Hobson - one of mine or one of the other one's.

So, as I write, portfolios are being reviewed, invitations are being extended, a website is being created - similar to IRISf64, an online ad presence, and plans for a gala virtual opening show (bring your own wine, cheese and shrimp) are being made.

Please submit a portfolio (a link to your work) if you are interested in being represented on Through The Looking Glass.

FYI, This photograph, Gordon Oil, ~ Au Sable Forks, NY, is available for $25.00US for as long as this post is on the front page. The print measures 11.7x11.7 with a centered 7.5x7.5 image. It is printed with ultrachrome pigment inks on Epson Enhanced Matte paper. Each print is numbered (open edition) and signed. Contact me to purchase.

FEATURED COMMENT: Mary Dennis wrote: "...I just might have to smash open my piggy bank next year! The thought of owning and actually holding some real prints, from real people at real people prices, makes me giddy."

Yo Mary, I couldn't agree with you more. As I mentioned, I suspect that there is vast untapped market of photographers (primarily) who feel the same way. The wonderful world wide web of photoblogs and photo websites is good as far it goes, but fine photography, like any other art, is best experienced firsthand.

ku # 443 and some pearls of wisdom

2006-12-11T16:04:00.000Z

We are having an extended brown season - that time between autumnal grandeur and first snow. The ski people - operators and participants - are going bats.

some pearls - If you don't know about Duane Michals, you should. Google "Duane Michals" and get to know him and his photography.

"Really, I'm so bored with photography that I cannot tell you! And I'm so bored with new photographers because it's just old photography, except it's bigger and more boring and in color and much more expensive. No new ground has been broken in photography in ages. All those German photographers are just doing very large photographs of parking lots in Tokyo. Richard Avedon knows that the next five books he's going to do will look like the last five: people standing in front of [seamless backdrops] staring at you. [...] I don't know what I'll be doing five years from now. That's what I love. Creativity comes from not knowing what the hell you're going to do."

"...The art world is so corrupt. When I first became a photographer, I thought photography wouldn't be corrupt because there was no money in it. But now there's money and the more money involved, the more the work becomes corrupted. Now that photography has gone into the realm of $250,000 for a photo, it's lost its virginity in the worst possible way. When somebody does a photograph that is so large that it can only be fit into a museum, you know it's all over. The power of photography is that a Cartier-Bresson print doesn't need to be 10-feet tall to move you. When the only value or new thing about a work is that it's enormous, photography has really gone down a slippery slope."

"If you are afraid to fail, forget it, you're never going to be a creative person. You learn more from your failures that you will from your successes. And if you find yourself saying, 'I don't have enough time,' that's bullshit. You make time for what you want to do. Or, 'I don't have enough money.' Bullshit. Paper doesn't cost anything. If you find yourself making excuses, then stop jacking yourself off, because that's what it amounts to. If you really want to do something, if you really have the passion to do something, to find your bliss, then you do it. You do it regardless."

FEATURED COMMENT: Michelle Parent wrote: "I LOVE this guy! So cool! His innerscape photos are mind boggling. I've thought of doing stuff like that ever since I picked up a camera and have never done it. I always create them in my head, but have never gone through with it. I've always chickened out, afraid people would think I was crazy or something."

Hey Michelle - Duane Michals, surprise surprise, had something to say about your comment, "...I always create them in my head, but have never gone through with it. I've always chickened out, afraid people would think I was crazy or something." Michals stated, "If I was concerned about being accepted, I would have been doing Ansel Adams lookalikes, because that was easily accepted. Everything I did was never accepted...but luckily for me, my interest in the subject and my passion for the subject took me to the point that I wasn't wounded by that, and eventually, people came around to me."

Toby Lloyd-Jones ~ Downtown #3

2006-12-11T15:16:00.001Z

I first encountered Toby Lloyd-Jones at Eolake Stobblehouse Blog.

On a post named "Doors of Heaven" - a photograph of a set of double wooden vertical slat doors, Eolake indulged in what he labeled, "my high-wire analysis of my pictures". He wrote, "This picture is of heaven's gates. The golden colors give promise of great spiritual riches ahead. The many verticals symbolize the ascension of humanity and of the individual, or "you" if you will. The shadow of the sign on the right shows the fading of language and symbols as being important in human life, transcending mere mind and entering spiritual realms. The locks represent the barriers in our minds and our beliefs which each person has the key to if he chooses".

Toby left a comment under the name "punctum", which immediately caught my eye - punctum is from the twin concepts of studium and punctum: studium denoting the cultural, linguistic, and political interpretation of a photograph, punctum denoting the wounding, personally touching detail which establishes a direct relationship with the object or person within it ~ from Camera Lucida, a book on photography published in 1980 by the French literary critic Roland Barthes. A book that is considered one of the most important early academic books of criticism and theorization on photography.

In any event, Toby's response was simple and direct - "No...it is a door." I couldn't have stated it better myself.

As you may noticed with my photographs, I am definitely not a fan of descriptive - in practice, most often fanciful and rather loopy- titles for photographs. As a judge in several international photo competitions, I have seen my fair share, and more, of them. My dislike of them is twofold:

1. As mentioned, they are most often sappy and/or loopy.

2. By deliberate intention or not, they tend to direct the observer of a photograph down a specific train of interpretive/experiential thought and I perfer a more wide open field with my equivalency. Without in any way denying photography's intrinsic relationship with the referent (the object of its gaze) and the literal/real, it has been stated that ...art has no intrinsic meaning. This is its mystery and hence, its power. Art is free. It stimulates the viewer to insert their own meaning, their own value.

It should be noted that I do appreciate reading about a photographer's motivations/inspirations in an Artist's Statement (as long as it's not so full of artspeak and theory-babel as to be undecipherable).

I have also noticed a general tendency that goes hand-in-hand with loopy/sappy titles - the titles seem to be an attempt (intentional or not) to make up for the fact that, although the photograph in question may have lots of studium, it lacks, to my eye and sensibility, a strong punctum.

All of that said, I really like Toby's photography (and his "titles"). FYI, Toby studied conceptual art and painting at Goldsmiths College, London University, from 1976-1979. Later he changed direction, and in 1992 gained a Ph.D in experimental psychology from Birkbeck College, London University. He is currently a reader (whatever that is) in cognitive psychology at Kent University, in the south-east of England. His academic research focuses on vision and memory.

My bet is he might have some interesting stuff to say about photography. Here's hoping he does (on The Landscapist).

FEATURED COMMENT: Steve Durbin wrote:"My first question on this one is based on my immediate (intuitive, system 1) reaction, before I even carefully looked at the content. I immediately thought of paintings by Hopper and de Chirico that have a similar overall look. I'm wondering to what extent that was intentional. It certainly affects my understanding of the photograph either way...I can't turn off the cultural background."

publishers comment: I was struck immediately by visions of Hopper with this photograph (and others - Downtown #6, #7, #1) and was tempted to write about Chiaroscuro - the arrangement of light and dark elements in a pictorial work of art - but Toby only seems to grind on this axe only lightly in his greater body of work.

A link

2006-12-10T18:00:00.001Z

Interesting photography, and an interesting concept.

urban ku # 11 and a link to a commentary for your consideration

2006-12-09T17:07:00.000Z

I am rarely without a camera. Too much interesting everyday life comes at me to ignore.

In an article - In Defense of the Non-Luminous Landscape - Colin Jago expresses his views on the subject very well. Check it out.

Stephen Durbin

2006-12-09T16:57:00.000Z

The image here is part of an ongoing night photography project. I seem to be especially drawn to interesting lighting around windows, and I also like the geometric shapes formed by building facades like those here. In this case I was originally shooting the window on the right as main subject, but when I stepped back and saw the far church appear, a new composition was born. Mainly because of the church, I like this one in color, though I usually work in monochrome. I have to say that, for me, this verges on being a "pretty picture," as has been much discussed on this site. What do you think?

See Stephen's superb BW photography

Happy Days

2006-12-08T03:09:00.000Z

Just back from Pittsburgh, PA where I wrapped up another 36 page Adirondack/Lake Placid Winter Travel Guide - this is a 2 pg. spread from the guide. I provide concept, design, copy development and supervision, photography, pre-press and press proofing. It's an absolute labor of love.

urban ku # 10 and Tibits

2006-12-08T02:57:00.000Z

It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see. ~ Henry David Thoreau

He who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe is as good as dead; his eyes are closed. ~ Einstein

Ed Richards ~ The Landscape of Hurricane Katrina

2006-12-07T15:31:00.000Z

Every vision of Katrina is different. Coming to Katrina with local knowledge and personal connections, as well as a technical knowledge of hurricanes and their impact on the land, my images have their own perspective. While little appreciated by the national media, all of the areas inundated by Katrina have been flooded before by hurricanes, and some, such as the Mississippi Gulf Coast, have been utterly destroyed in the past. Knowing this has happened before, and will inevitably happen again, I see these images as part of the long term saga of the Gulf Coast, rather than images of a unique tragedy as this has been seen by most other photographers. I continue to photograph the region as it rebuilds. While I hope I will not photograph it destroyed again, I am documenting fragile areas spared by Katrina, including GPS locations, in case, as with Katrina, there is nothing left after the next storm.

I live in Baton Rouge, 70 miles up river from New Orleans, and I know the southern Gulf Coast from many perspectives. In my day job, as a law professor at LSU , I study the governmental policies and natural forces that underlay disasters such as Katrina. While I am concerned with the welfare of the people displaced by the storm, my interest as a photographer is the impact of major storms on the land and the built environment.

I shoot 4x5 black and white film, which I scan and print digitally. I shoot in the classic landscape tradition, seeking out graphically powerful images, usually defined by their position against the sky. The high resolution of the large final prints gives a strong sense of place through allowing the viewer to see details in the debris, and other cues which transform the strong graphic images into real life scenes. This detail is lost on the WWW, requiring the underlying graphic structure to
convey the power of image.

Aaron Hobson

2006-12-06T17:04:00.000Z

My wife says that if I were cheating on her, this would be the perfect excuse. Out every night once the baby goes down, for a few hours exploring more nightscapes. My alibi is always on the memory card. On this particular night, a tall, sexy, naked, tree and I had a little get together and to make my conscience even more guilty it happened in a dark alleyway.

publishers note - I'm in Pittsburgh on biz. Things will be back to norml tomorrow

urban ku # 9 and a commentary for your consideration

2006-12-04T13:12:00.000Z

Another Rt. 9 roadside attraction.

Last night I was re-reading bits and pieces of The Photograph As Contemporary Art. The book is as readable a piece as I have found that deals with the topic of "...the ideas that underpin contemporary art photography before going on to consider their visual outcome."

Illustrated with 217 photographs - I find most to be "beautiful" although there is no classic "beauty" to be found here, the book does a very credible job of meeting its stated goal of being "...a survey (of motivations and expressions that currently exist in the field), the kind of overview you might experience if you visited exhibitions in a range of venues...independent art spaces, public art institutions, museums, commercial galleries...in major art centers such as New York, Berlin, Tokyo, or London." The photography is divided into 7 chapters/categories, not by style or subject matter, but by "...grouping photographers who share a common ground in terms of their motivations and working practices.

The reproduction of the photographs in the relatively small (6"x8.5") soft-cover book is excellent and there seems to be just right number of words to get the job done without becoming tiresome, obtuse or opaque. The book is also very afforable at only $19.95US (list price - it can be had for substantially less from online vendors).

That said, and in no way diminishing my recommendation that this is a must-have must-read book, I was reminded as I read last night of my recent Tidbit - Interpretation is the revenge of the intellectual upon art (Susan Sontag).

The "Intellectual" in this case is Charlotte Cotton, the author/photo editor of The Photograph As Contemporary Art. As near as I can tell from a Google search, Cotton is Head of Cultural Programmes at Art + Commerce in New York. Previously, she was Head of Programming at The Photographers' Gallery in London and a Curator of Photographs at the Victoria and Albert Museum from 1993to 2004.

As mentioned, I think CC has done an admirable job with this book and she has managed to pull together a group of photographs that appeals very much to my eye and sensibilities - amazingly, for a collection this diverse, nearly every single photograph in the book gives me cause to stop and consider. Most are a visual treat to my eye and they all are capable of engaging my intellect and emotions all well.

OK, so where's the rub/revenge?

I have been oft accused of being a pointy-headed pin head. In some quarters I am known as "Blovius" (from to bloviate - orate verbosely and windily), and, I've have made it well-known that a photograph must engage my intellect as well as my visual sense, so this might sound a little odd to some, but, when CC writes about specific photographs, her words - though they be right in number and not tiresome, obtuse or opaque, - seem to suck the life out of the photographs she is writing about.

It seems to me that CC, in perfect concert with most of her "high-art" brothers and sisters, needs to sublimate emotion to intellect. It is as if she (they) needs to don a mantle of cool intellectual detachment from the photography (art) lest she be tarred and feathered with an emotional (unprofessional?) attachment to her subject. The writing is all so academic, clinical and cold.

While much of the writing is instructive, eventually, I start to long for a simple and direct, "I love this photograph. It reaches me where I live." kind of thing. I need a little emotional foreplay with my mental constructs, otherwise I might foresake the arts and sit around reading the dictionary. Know what I mean?

Perhaps, the problem I have with this book - which I find representative of much writing about photography as art - is found in the first paragraph of this commentary (from the second paragraph in the book), wherein CC (in concert with most of her peers) puts ideas before going on to consider their visual outcome.

That's butt-assbackwards in my book.

Michelle Parent ~ Red pig

2006-12-04T12:58:00.000Z

This is the backyard of an artist. I was drawn to the scene because of the red pig. There was a playfulness here that I liked. It seemed odd, but at the same time, just right. I didn't just focus on the pig, because I wanted to be sure the viewer could see the Vermont farm scenery that it sits in.

I have done some computer work for this woman and her art work is always bright and cheery and fun with a lot of crazy color schemes run rampant. I have been taking care of the office while they are on vacation and have been seeing this scene from the window. Today it just felt right to go out and capture it. Besides, I hadn't clicked the shutter in a while and felt that itch and the afternoon light was so nice tonight before the clouds came in and the sun set.

Joel Truckenbrod ~ Dusk, Cascade River, Minnesota

2006-12-03T16:31:00.000Z

In response to Ana's comment: From what I've seen of art-school culture over the past few months, I think there absolutely is an almost superstitious fear of formal beauty. It's a very interesting experience (in a tear-my-hair-out sort of way) to have gone from the NPN-like culture where my photography is considered to be quite ugly to the art-school culture where I'm constantly being beaten up for my love of formal beauty. Both of these extremes seem somewhat pathological. -

Having recently graduated from art-school myself (BFA in painting), I found myself having flashbacks to some of the very same issues. Specifically, the notion of formal beauty was a big "no-no". When pressed, my post-modernist professors would submit that there was nothing wrong with formal beauty (as it is different from "pretty")...But, virtually any work that went down this forbidden road was dismissed - unless something was done in the work that would directly challenge, diminish or (preferably) poke fun at the "beautiful" leanings of the piece. My conclusion was that formal beauty was perceived as a threat and was viewed as part of the visual lexicon of "lower" means of artistic expression. Of course, the irony to the whole situation was that the more I was told how formal beauty was boring, uninspired, cliche, often kitsch, etc...the more intrigued I became with it. Though I my paintings didn't really attempt to confront this "issue" (I actually wanted to graduate), I found photography and began to approach the camera as a way to come to terms with some of these questions that I had. I did this on my own time and of my own ambition, which is probably why it has taken a hold of me more than painting ever did - and why I spend all of my time with my camera rather than my paintbrushes these days. After photographing now for almost a couple of years (and also being outside of the school environment), I feel like I'm beginning to find myself in my photography. That's not to say my many questions have been answered. In fact, more have probably arisen, which is something I welcome. They are of my own choosing though, which seems very important. At some point, the choice must be made to pursue those things that internally trigger us, things that we know hold "truth" - even if various groups and cultural/artistic viewpoints tell us no. Even though my professors would probably be appalled with my change of directions, I have never been more engaged with my artwork than I am now.

urban ku # 8 and a mini-commentary for your consideration

2006-12-03T15:28:00.000Z

Near Au Sable Chasm on Rt 9 (motel row) in Keesville, NY.

the commentary - After just over a month of blogging presence, it seems that The Landscapist has struck a chord with a growing audience of photographers (primarily) who are interested in landscape photography that has moved beyond the entertaining pretty picture. It's reassuring to know that I am not a lone voice wailing in the wilderness - the interesting comments and mini-commentaries from participants is lending a rich and hoped-for components to the blog. Thanks very much> It gives me the energy to carry this thing on.

As far as I can tell, there is an consensus of sorts emerging around a few salient points:

1. Beauty - other than it's not "pretty", is it "good" or "bad"? Is it something to be sought or avoided? As, Cory Freeman wrote. "I seem to be struggling lately with not wanting to take a picture of something that might be regarded as just a pretty picture. I would like to make an image that expresses more than that."

2. How do you do it? - not technique-ly wise, but rather, as has been asked, "How do you photograph an emotion"? or, more specifically, as Brian wrote. "Maybe we should talk about what it means to have talent in photography(pub's emphasis)...Is it the ability to see scenes in a certain way? Is it the innate ability to "feel" whether a particular composition works or not? Is it the ability to turn the emotion felt in to an emotional image? ???"

3. "talent in photography" - When discussing photography as an art, there is very often, IMO, the erroneous tendency to lump photography into a generic one-word-catch-all of "art". Photography certainly shares some basic similarities with other arts but photography differs dramatically from them in its unique relationship to the "real". I believe this warrants considerable contemplation when discussing items #1 and #2.

Good topics.

Now it seems to me that if you are hanging out around The Landscapist (or other similarly inclined blogs) and pondering these ideas, you are, at the least, on the road to arriving at some recognition - I am not certain that anyone ever arrives at the "answers", which, IMO, is an important part of the process - within yourself of the answers you need to find (or at least pursue) in order to move along your path to more meaning-full photography.

I hope that these topics - but not limited to - are explored more fully by an ever-expanding number of voices here on The Landscapist.

Tidbits

2006-12-01T19:35:00.000Z

I hope that photography (with its power to portray the real world) can start to move toward understanding, appreciating, and portraying the common wonders of the world, rather than just the special wonders of the world.

and,

It has come to the point that landscape photography seems to exist in a world of perpetual sinrises and sunsets, as though the ordinary experience of living does not in and of itself constitute a remarkable experience.

both quotes - John Paul Caponigro

FEATURED COMMENT: Ian wrote: "I think the sentiments also apply to life in general, the tendency to go through life without really experiencing or appreciating the continuous moments of living, instead focusing on the highlights, the 'sunrises' and 'sunsets' of experience, and trying to forget the lowlights.

publisher's comment - d'accord...

If the publisher chose to be self-serving, he could also include that Ian also wrote, "I think this is one of the reasons that I find your ku's so compelling. To me they capture the experience of being in the moment, that is, they capture what I experience when I am fully appreciating and understanding the landscape that I am at a particular moment part of."

ku # 442 and a commentary for your consideration

2006-12-01T14:59:00.000Z

Judging by the number of times I have photographed this erratic, it might be said that I have raised it, in my eyes and imagination, to the status of a fetish object.

the commentary (its realtionship to the above photograph is optional) - In a response to my commentary, which stated in part, Many landscape/nature photographers seem to be very focused on a notion of "beauty" which very often becomes little more than another trite example of "pretty picture". Paul Butzi wrote,

"...The trap of falling into triteness lies waiting for us everywhere. Do you have some reason to think that 'pretty' is a bigger trap than 'ugly' or 'poverty' or 'social injustice'? Judging from the work I've seen lately, the bigger trap is that often people are AFRAID to make photographs which show beauty."

my answer - While every photo genre has its trite and cliche-ridden traps, I certainly believe that the landscape/nature genre is overwhelmingly prone to the easy and culturally popular lure of "pretty". If you have any doubt, visit any one of several online nature photography photo forums and witness the neverending parade of repetitious and hopelessly sentimental photographs. These serious-minded amateurs are drawn, like moths to a flame, to a narrow range of motifs and pictorial techniques that when visited and applied over and over again "...knocks the life out of any ideas to which it is applied..." (The Art Spirit - Robert Henri). I would addend this notion to read, sucks the beauty out of any ideas to which it is applied. Beauty, which is most often complex in nature, is trivialized and reduced to the simple and easily digested state of "pretty".

To be clear, let me explain that I believe there is a vast difference between "pretty-ness" and "beauty". To my eye and sensibility, "pretty" is the obvious which sits on the surface of things while "beauty" goes much deeper than the obvious and the surface. True beauty does not reside in the merely pretty.

To my eye and sensibility, beauty is a complex and rich mixture of the real, the hidden (or not so obvious), and the imagined. In the medium of photography with its formal characteristic of connection to the referent (the object of its gaze), I believe beauty is discovered and found, not "made". IMO, the best photography is that created by the keen observer and witness to the "real". Photographers who do not rely on technique but rather on a finely honed (practiced) sense of observation of a referent to which they are passionately and obssessively drawn.

It is these photographers who, no matter how their referent is culturally classified - ugly, mundane, beautiful, pretty, etc. - create photographs of great "beauty".

As far the notion of photographers who "are AFRAID to make photographs which show beauty", I would venture the opinion that perhaps they are really afraid of making photographs which might be judged to be merely "pretty" - a self-regulating temperance that I judge to be a worthy one in the cause of curbing the sentimental excesses of mainstream landscape/nature photography. However, it would be a shame if this "fear" inhibited the photographic exploration of things "beautiful".

FEATURED COMMENT: Ana wrote: "From what I've seen of art-school culture over the past few months, I think there absolutely is an almost superstitious fear of formal beauty. It's a very interesting experience (in a tear-my-hair-out sort of way) to have gone from the NPN-like culture where my photography is considered to be quite ugly to the art-school culture where I'm constantly being beaten up for my love of formal beauty. Both of these extremes seem somewhat pathological.

publisher's comment - d'accord...

Joseph Kayne

2006-12-01T14:40:00.000Z

This photograph showed up unexpectedly last night in an email with no text other than "Attached is a recent photograph that I made this past October. Enjoy."

I know of Joseph as a photographer of rural America, expecially of barns and barn art - subjects that are normally fodder for bw photography, not color.

Enjoy.

FEATURED COMMENT: David Pamer wrote: "What really makes this photograph work for me is the dog. Especially the fact that, in silhouette he (she?) appears no more real than the horses. A silhouette looking at silhouettes.

publisher's comment - d'accord...(I seem to have something stuck in my throat...)

"urban" ku # 9

2006-11-30T14:04:00.000Z

Another roadside attraction in Keeseville, NY.

Heading south just past Au Sable Chasm - the so-called "Oldest Natural Wonder In the USA" - there is a 2-3 mile stretch of highway with wall-to-wall faded remnants of a past tourism heyday. Since 1870, more than 10,000,000 visitors have come to the chasm which was intially billed as "The Little Grand Canyon of the East".

The chasm itself is literally a walk through early post Pleistocene geological history, but a walk or drive down the aforementioned stretch of Rt. 9 is trip through the last major tourism rush era - the 1950s. Especially prominent are a host of 50s-era motels, most still in operation, most every so gently time-worn. I have started to photograph this strip of highway as part of my ongoing project to photograph the Adirondacks in all of its many guises.

What I am working to capture is the "place-that-time-forgot/bypassed" look and feel of most of the peopled-parts of the Adirondacks. Tourism in the Adirondacks - a so-called rubber-tire destination - took a major hit in the late 50s as Americans took to the expanding interstates, all of which bypassed the Adirondacks. With the exception of the village of Lake Placid which experienced a brief period of 1980 Olympic's development, virtually all tourism related development came to a complete stop. Many of the grand old lodges closed and were eventually torn down.

Somehow though, most of the small family-run motels managed to survive to this day in one fashion or another. Today, the result is a virtual living museum of 50's-era cultural set pieces spread out through out the Adirondack Park - the largest wilderness in the east, an area larger than the state of Vermont.

David Chauvin from way down south

2006-11-30T13:10:00.000Z

While wading in the thigh deep soup, I ran across this spent lilypad and seed pod. In years past, the seeds were collected, roasted and eaten.The water level had dropped leaving the pad high and dry above the hyacinths and hitchhikers.

Tidbit

2006-11-29T15:41:00.000Z

I love this one.

Interpretation is the revenge of the intellectual upon art. - Susan Sontag

"urban" ku # 8 and mini-commentary for your consideration

2006-11-29T13:37:00.000Z

Early-ish this AM in the sleepy hamlet of Au Sable Forks.

Yesterday, in comments on Jerry Greer's photograph, the notion of "pretty pictures" reared its ugly head. On an online photo forum Jerry is well known for what many would label his "pretty pictures" of his beloved southern Appalachians, and, when the accusation of "pretty picture" is hurled in his direction, he responds with a vigorous defense. He and I have gone heatedly lens-cap-to-lens-cap a few times but have managed to pull back before putting out contracts on each other.

But, all in all, I'm glad to have him here.

That said, it is, past history and all, very interesting/intriguing to read Jerry's "confession" (using only the absolute loosest of definitions) here on The Landscapists that much of his photography was created to "keep the lights on" as they say. I didn't take this to mean that he was disavowing any of his work or that the photographs were not created out of "...passion and a deep love..." for his subject. He also noted that he now has "...the freedom to shoot as I would like to shoot and not be tied to a specific style..." and that he is pursuing "...projects (that) will be freer and more art driven than the moneymaker projects that we do in mass to keep the lights on."

I will be very intrigued to follow the "transition".

On to the mini-commentary which I believe is very related to Jerry's comments - Many landscape/nature photographers seem to be very focused on a notion of "beauty" which very often becomes little more than another trite example of "pretty picture". Without going into a lengthy explanation of why I think this happens, let me offer the following -

Not sure of my reference on this - "...photographic documents are not the creations of an idealizing imagination that responds to the imperfections of reality with a dream of beauty. Instead, they are the trophies of a hunter who looks for the unusual in the world of what actually exists and discovered something exceptionally good."

It seems to me that this notion of "trophy hunter" pretty clearly defines the difference in photographic MO between the pretty-picture-ists and those who create photographs that are considered to be more in the fine art realm.

Eric Fredine - a follow up

2006-11-29T12:52:00.000Z

Kent Wiley commenting on my Horizons photographs very kindly wrote : "...the formalism is stunning..."

The formal structure of my photographs is overt - obsessively so even. And I often worry about it becoming too 'cute' or contrived. That I might descend in to vacuous exercises in graphic design or emulate a second rate stock photographer.

But I also think its a fundamental part of what I do. The formal structure emphasizes that I am observing a scene from a precisely chosen place and time. This creates a transience that is part of the emotional impact. I am exploiting that unique characteristic of a photograph: it's relationship to a slice of the real world.

Compositional choices are inherently subjective and calculated - and are often manipulative. By making my choices overt and obvious I may actually be creating a more objective photograph. Which hopefully facilitates the viewer forming their own relationship with the scene.

At the same time, the formal structures are a reflection of the environments and provide a commentary on them. They are part of the narrative.

PS - Winter has aggressively asserted itself in Alberta: -25C, winds, snow. Strangely enough, this inspired me to get out and make some new photographs after a several months of inactivity.

FEATURED COMMENT: Kent Wiley wrote: "...yakety yak, yakety yak, yadda, yadda, yadda...but I'd like to hear more about the improv aspect of your photography.

Photopop 7.0

2006-11-28T13:06:00.000Z

On the road to gravitas' house.

Jerry Greer ~ Old and Beautiful # 1

2006-11-28T13:01:00.000Z

For years I’ve had a fascination with the forest interior. Yes, I love the big clean forest scene but lately I’ve really started to look into the secondary forests that predominately make up the southern Appalachian forests due to heavy logging.

I recently was hired for an assignment by the Southern Environmental Law Center to photograph an old growth forest with chestnut oaks that were cored and found to be over 325 years old (there is an imminent threat from the USFS to allow these trees to be cut as part of a huge timber sale). The trees were really not that impressive and were intermingled with what the old-timers call laurel-hell. My job as a photographer was to make the trees look massive and beautiful! This was the hardest photo assignment that I’ve ever done.

Tidbits

2006-11-27T19:58:00.000Z

I have quite a collection of quotes, so, instead of keeping them all to myself, I'll start to share some on a regular basis. Please feel free to contribute. Here goes:

As soon as beauty is sought not from religion and love, but for pleasure, it degrades the seeker. ~ Emerson

and

The most beautiful emotion we can experience is the mysterious. It is the power of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer wonder and stand in rapt awe, is as good as dead. To know what is impenetrable to us really exists, manifesting itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty, which our dull faculties can comprehend only in their most primitve forms - this knowledge, this feeling, is at the center of true religiousness. In this sense, and this sense only, I belong to the ranks of the devoutly religious men. ~ Einstein

I offer the second quote to qualify my sense of "religion" in the first.

ku # 441 and a commentary for your consideration

2006-11-27T13:09:00.000Z

A cold frosty late November morning.

Last week over at Photo-Musings, Paul Butzi raised the topic of "talent". He stated, "I think the whole talent thing is a myth. At least, I think that talent is vastly over-rated....the myth is that talent is a substitute for hard work..."

The point that Paul seems to be making is, "doing your best is hard work...do the best work you can. Talent or no talent, that's all any of us can do..." I find it difficult to disagree with the proposition to, as they say in the Army, "be all that you can be".

BUT...(with me it seems like there's always a "but")

...I find it not nearly as difficult to disagree with the notion that "talent is vastly over-rated", in part because this idea seems to lead to the proposition that "...talent is a set of skills that you develop over time through desire" - a related but highly suspect statement made by Craig Tanner in his essay The Myth of Talent

The notions that "talent is vastly over-rated" and that "talent is a skill set" are rather dangerous ideas for 2 reasons:

reason # 1 - IMO, a true talent for something - that unbidden preternatural inner-being "gift" - is precious, relatively rare and very real. Not understanding that this so tends to denigrate the special-ness of a truly unique talent vis-a-vis a "small" talent. (FYI, I am not using the word "small" as a put-down because after all, as Paul Butzi also states, "...photography and art aren't a race..." or a competition, but this recognition does not negate the fact that some art is "large" in impact/influence/significance while other art is "small" in impact/influence/significance.)

I appreciate the manifestations of "small" talent very much but there is also a somewhat greater intangible "thrill" of discovery which I expereience when I am confronted the works of a very unique talent. This talent is a thing to be highly "celebrated" and often is by its display in books, galleries and museums.

On a side note, perhaps the web is a big gallery where all talent gets it due.

reason # 2 - I would also opine that talent is a fragile thing - the greatness of the artist's individuality that, if not recognized, fostered and encouraged to flourish, can, in the course of "hard work", wither on the vine. As H.D. Thoreau stated, "What does education often do? It makes a straight-cut ditch of a free, meandering brook.", or, as Einstein stated, "Imagination is more important than knowledge."

Confusing craft (skill sets) with talent is a big mistake. A skill set must work in the service of talent.

IMO, the American educator and painter Robert Henri made the point very clearly in his 1923 vintage book The Art Spirit - "The greatness of art depends absolutely on the greatness of the artist's individuality, and on the same source depends the power to acquire a tecnhique sufficient for expresion."

He goes on to discuss the inherent dangers of "developing a skill set" - "The man who is forever acquiring technique with the idea that sometime he may have something to express, will never have the technique of the thing he wishes to express...the technique learned without a purpose is a formula when used, knocks the life out of any idea to which it is applied.

IMO, talent is an inner resource that has more to do with an insatiable curiousity and a drive to "see" beneath the surface of things than it does with the desire to acquire skill sets. IMO, artists who foster and explore that unbidden burning curiousity and drive - the greatness of their individuality as a person - are those who most often create new ways of "seeing" life (sometimes with a new technique). New ways of "seeing" that have the greatest impact not only visually, but on the notion of what it means to be human - art that is truly meaning full.

PS - the fact that this commentary immediately precedes (in the scrolling scheme of things) Eric Fredine's photograph is not a coincidence. IMO, his comments speak to the heart of the talent matter.

FEATURED COMMENT Paul Ralphaelson wrote: "Several years ago some researchers went looking for talent among the applicants at a major British music conservatory. They were hoping to find examples of the Mozart phenomenon--musicians who soared above everyone else with precious little work.

What they found startled them: an almost exact correlation between the time spent practicing and studying and their admissions ranking. They also found an almost ten-to-one difference in practicing time between the hardest and least hardest working applicants.

In one sense, this challenges the notion of talent. In another sense, I'd suggest that capacity for relentless work IS a kind of talent. How many people walking the earth are actually capable of practicing piano for 60 hours a week, year after year, without burning out, collapsing from repetetive stress injuries, or going crazy?

I suspect it's very, very few. These great musicians exhibit genius-level obsession for working at their craft. I think you'll find similar examples in all the arts. Some photographers never leave the house without a camera. Some can't even face the world without a camera between them and reality ... their obsession leve seems almost like a kind of autism. The obsessive greats are out with their cameras while bums like me are sleeping in, going to cock fights, and running around with loose women.

publisher's comment - Paul R. brings up a point that I thought to put in my commentary but did not because I thought it was getting a little long. The point is this - In his commentary, Paul B. wrote about "hard work" as a means to doing the best you can do - to which I would add, with the talent you have. No question about that.

Paul R. writes about a "genius-level obsession" capacity for working at a craft, but this is NOT what I would call "hard work". I have no doubt that many (if not most) in the arts who are considered "large" talents are, in fact, obsessive about their art, but, while they may work to near exhaustion at times, I'd be surprised if many called it "hard work". Without implying anything about the measure of my talent, I can say that while I "work" at photography very "hard" and long, I really do enjoy every minute of it - even when I'm weaving a tapestry of computer/software-driven obscenities that hangs over the Adirondacks like a dark vaporous cloud, I have to admit, it feels much more like "play" than "work". Please don't tell my wife.

There is way more pleasure than pain. More like sleeping, going to cock fights, and running around with loose women. (Please don't tell my wife)

Eric Fredine ~ Horizons

2006-11-27T13:00:00.000Z

I've been preparing work for an exhibition. It seems to be a period of consolidation and reflection accompanied by ample amounts of angst and uncertainty. I think I've learnt a few things about myself and my photography.

Thing one: my photographs - at least the ones that 'work' - are more about photographing a feeling than a subject. And because they are photographs of the way I feel they are very much a reflection of me.

Thing two: despite no overt attempt to create one a narrative seems to emerge.

Interior "landscapes"

2006-11-25T18:01:00.000Z

With a fair degree of insight and accuracy, my wife is always accusing me of creating "landscapes" or "set pieces" all over our house. This is not a topic of great concern to our coupleship, but ocassionally, when the "landscape" in question includes something that should be put way, she has to slip into her tolerance-not-obliterance persona (for which I am deeply and continuously grateful).

In the case of this powder room landscape, no matter how I try to explain the artistic merits and rewards of contemplating this broom while sitting on the crapper, she just doesn't seem to grok.

Dan Mitchell

2006-11-25T17:20:00.001Z

Dan Mitchell posted this comment in response to Dwight Jones' photograph and commentary. - Dan is kind enough to let us see his photograph (refered to in his comment) - Even on good days, results are not always predictable. This was brought home to me yet again a few weeks ago when I was in Yosemite shooting fall colors. I had stopped at a spot with wildly colorful autumn foliage and I was carefully setting up shots from different points of view and with different framing. At one point I decided to move up the bank of the river a ways to frame an image that included reflections of the leaves in a still pool.

While walking along I looked up at a completely different subject from the one that was on my mind and somewhere deep down in my brain thought "that might be a good picture." But I was too focused on the other image, so I just hand held the shot (at least I enabled IS!) and moved back to my original subject.

When I got home I found that the foliage photos were fine but not spectacular... and this one photo that I had almost off-handedly grabbed was possibly the most effective one of the entire trip.

Thanksgiving "salute" for Michel Legendre

2006-11-25T02:24:00.000Z

This Brasseurs' for you along with a little hockey talk - Let's go Pens.

Jim Jirka ~ Bud Light Mobile

2006-11-24T07:03:00.000Z

A big departure from my comfort zone. It looks as though I purchased a good sample of a Holga. I didn’t see light leaks.

publisher's comment - no light leaks? Sounds like a defect to me. Demand a refund/replacement.

An Eggleston kind of Thanksgiving

2006-11-24T03:41:00.000Z

I don't know if this photograph is just derivative, art about art, too heavy on concept/theory, or art for art's sake, but then again, all art (and artists) stand on the shoulders of that which came before.

Now I'm fairly certain that the great unwashed masses won't see it as "art", but a little knowledge about the medium of photography and WIlliam Eggleston in particular wouldn't hurt if anyone would choose to ponder it for more than a few seconds.

But of course, maybe it was just an overdose of tripophan that made me do it.

In any event, I hope everyone who partakes had a Happy Turkey Day.

krappy kamera ku

2006-11-22T14:13:00.000Z

There's something about toy cameras I just can't resist. In this case the extremely diminutive Minox Leica M3. Make no doubt about it - dispite its look, namesake and price (currently under $200), it's a krappy kamera - a no adjustments (there is an "iffy" auto exposure function), fixed focus, non-precision viewfinder, press the button and shoot. The claimed 4 megapixels is arrived at by interpolation. All of which conspires to create, to my eye and sensibility, a wonderful photograph.

If you have not had the experience of photographing with a krappy kamera, I highly recommend it. There are loads of film and digital krappy kameras out there, many well under $100. Most fit easily into a pocket, some so small that they can get lost in your spare change, so there's no reason not to have them with you all the time. And photographing doesn't get any less involved from the tech side than just pressing the button.

Dwight Jones

2006-11-22T14:02:00.000Z

Every photographer has had magic days when everything works and other days when nothing works. I stopped at this pond last month while on my way to work. I only had a few minutes to spare. I didn't have my "good" camera. But for some reason, the pictures seemed to work.

I have stopped at this same spot may times, but only occasionally find the magic. I tried to duplicate this shot several times, but without magic. The leaves are falling now This one shot will have to do for the fall of '06. Each season has its own magic if we will only stop to see it.

Photopop 7.0 ~ youthful exuberance

2006-11-21T14:21:00.000Z

a virgin to a professional camera until 4 days ago, I'd like to share my initial thoughts.

To a degree (let me stress "to a degree" to Brandy), there is an uncanny resemblance to my first encounters with my wife. I find myself using any excuse I can to sneak out of the house at midnight to get a few nightscapes...i.e. cats need food, baby will need more diapers eventually, won't he? My dog is also excited that I am walking her more and spending more time out of the house to get a few snaps in the cemetary where we go on a daily basis. Last night I even had dreams about vignette-ing some obscure image I couldn't quite make out. In the long run our "marriage" should produce a deeper respect and admiration for each other as time goes by.

As for my photos, I think of them as my children (don't be jealous Hugo). Like photographs, children are everywhere, but if I raise them right and they inherit some good genes, every so often they may standout and someone may remark on how well behaved or athletic they are. That's the ultimate compliment to me. Oh, and if the child happens to turn out to be a superstar or famous someday, I'll take all the credit (hehe).

But I think the point is that there is a part of me (maybe not my g-spot, like gravitas) that is brought alive by the process of creating and/or viewing good photography.

Kent Wiley

2006-11-21T03:16:00.000Z

....in my pursuit of "not pretty" compositions...

publisher's note This from a man who states, "I'm still trying to wrestle my way out of the Full Nelson that pretty pictures have on my photography."

publisher's comment - I have a hard time seeing this as anything but the butt-hole discharge of affluent - or is that effluent? - America. Environmental degradation bathed in the warm folds of smug self-indulgence.

Of course, perhaps I am being unduly influenced by the wretched annual consumer bacchanal of "Black Friday".

In any event, I like it quite a bit, In fact, I would probably hang this photograph on my wall.

Philip Morgan

2006-11-20T14:38:00.000Z

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.

ku # 440 and a commentary for your consideration

2006-11-20T01:38:00.000Z

As I slowly get sucked into the photo blog vortex - a place of incredibly high density from which I wonder if any light will escape - I alternately feel either intrigued/captivated or anesthetised/mind-boggled (mind-bloggled?). At times, when you really get down to the nub, it seems as if much is being written/expressed about very little, or, at least, about the same basic question. Lots of people - spewing and venting (I don't mean that in a negative sense) about photography/art - caught in a kind of endless What's-It-All-About, Alfie? loop, although on ocassions it seems more like a Monty-Python's-Meaning-of-Life loop.

Ultimately, as I (tentatively) see it, it appears that one question (with a variation) keeps coming to the fore (directly or indirectly) - what is a good photograph? and it's variant - are my photographs good photographs?

For me, the answer to the primary question was made simple (relatively) when, years ago, I stumbled across the phrase "to illustrate and illuminate". Ergo, for me, a good photograph must engage the visual sense and the realm of the intellect/emotion. When a photograph does that, it tickles me right on my photographic Gräfenberg spot (that's "G-spot" for all you insensitive guys out there) every time - and I use the word "tickle" because I derive great pleasure from a good photograph.

I experience even greater pleasure when a photograph makes me "work for it" by challenging my eye and my intellect. I'm not looking for a fleeting slam-bam-thank-you-mame thing. I do enjoy a photographic quickie now and then, but they seem to come and go in a flash. Nothing to write home about. Nothing to hang your hat on. Nothing to sink your teeth into.

As for the variant question, I know my photographs are good photographs because, first and foremost, they give me pleasure, in fact, great pleasure. And, fortunately enough, my photographs have been seen and appreciated by a wide enough audience for me to know that others think they are good photographs as well. Many have been pleasured by my photographs and part of my pleasure is knowing that I connect with others through my photography.

So there you have it (time to unseat all of those tentured photography professors mucking around in arcane academic theory). It's so simple - photography/art is all about pleasure and the more penetrating the pleasure, the better.

Admit it.

No matter how serious your photographic intentions (and mine are pretty serious), is anybody out there doing it for the displeasure of it all?

FEATURED COMMENT: Kent Wiley wrote: "...I like your logic: simple, direct, to the point. But does it blast us to escape velocity so we can pull away from the dreaded "black hole" of bloggery?..."

ku # 439

2006-11-18T18:11:00.000Z

Weekend quickie - a little lighter than the last few posts.

ku # 438 and a book review (of sorts)

2006-11-17T13:44:00.000Z

So I'm watching a program segment on the tube last night. It was a mini feature about a photographer acquaintance - Mark Bowie - who is fast becoming the new "dean" of Adirondack photography. This is primarily due to the fact that his work is featured regularly in Adirondack Life Magazine.

The segment revolved mainly around his new book, Adirondack Waters - Spirit of the Mountains. Now understand that I use some of Mark's photography in various Adirondack tourism pieces I produce so I do respect the man's ability with a camera...

BUT...

The thought that entered my head about half way throught the segment was how utterly differently he and I "see" the Adirondacks. So much so, that even though I recognized most of the places in his book, it was as if I didn't recognize them at all. He had, through the magic of assiduously applied sentimental photographic technique, reduced the place to a series of ubiqutous picture postcards (an aside - if memory serves correctly, Mark's grandfather was one of the Adirondack's first and very prolific producers of Adirondack postcards).

I can't completely express the foreign-ness, the disassociation, the very estrangement I felt viewing his photographs. I think in large part this feeling came from the fact that, in addition to the aforementioned sentimentality quotient, most of the photographs were not created on a "human" scale - the scale that you can reach out and touch, smell and embrace. They seemed to command too much of the standoffish reverential - nature on a pedestal - that is so prevalent in mainstream nature/landscape photography.

He illustrated, with the fastidious craftmanship, the look of the place, but, IMconsideredO, and contrary to the book's subtitle, he illuminated none of the spirit of the place. Or, at best, he captured only the narrow-ist slice of that spirit - that found in sweeping golden light iconistic landscapes (FYI, the photography that I use to draw the tourists in). Pleasant enough as far as it goes - it just doesn't go nearly far enough.

As I mentioned, I know Mark. He's a serious-minded, well-educated kind of guy. His love of and enthusiasm for the Adirondacks is readily apparent to anyone who spends more than a few minutes around him. His technical command of the photographic medium is of the highest order, but I am left wondering why he seems to continue to, as Brooks Jensen states, create "what he has been told is a good photograph" and why he doesn't "photograph what he sees."

Perhaps Mark is too caught up in the lure of what sells and garners the most attention, although I am certain that he photographs the Adirondacks in a manner that genuinely comes from his heart.

At least that's how I see it.

Photopop 7.0

2006-11-17T13:29:00.000Z

Repulsively inviting or least that's how this looks to me (gravitas). It's one of those photographs that I just can't seem to stop looking at. Not sure why.

FEATURED COMMENT: Kent Wiley wrote: "...It's a moldy car wash. What's the big deal?"

publisher's response - Sleepy LaBeef, one of my favorite American musicians - dubbed "The Human Jukebox", has a song titled It ain't what you eat, it's the way how you chew it. That notion taken together with the adage You are what you eat seems to offer a starting point with which to answer your question.

If a photography diet consists mainly of easy-to-digest, stating-the-obvious WOW (WithOut Weight) photographs (and I'm not saying that yours is), then an observer is probably not stretching his/her mental/emotional facilities all that much. In culinary speak, his/her taste buds are not very sophisticated.

If, on the other hand, an observer regularly challenges - one might even say "treats" - enriches his/her diet with more complex offerings, an ability to identify and appreciate subtle tastes and textures most often develops. In photography speak, he/she learns a new way of "seeing" that he/she can use to view and create photographs. In culinary speak he/she has learned a new way of chewing.

In simpler jargon, I guess the answer to your question is, "it all depends on how you look at it".

Another Link

2006-11-16T15:43:00.000Z

I discovered photo-musing through a heads-up from Jim Jirka and a subsequent steady flow of visitors to The Landscapist from that site. Thanks to Paul Butzi for the endorsement. photo-musing.blogspot.com is the product of Paul Butzi from the Pacific Northwest. He is also a contributor to Art and Perception.

The site has much of interest on offer. The site's subhead states all you need to know about Paul's perspective - "Musings on photography from an artist perspective and art from a photographer perspective" HIghly recommended reading.

ku # 437 and something rarely talked about in polite photographic circles

2006-11-16T13:07:00.000Z

Yesterday was unseasonably warm. The day started very sunny but by late morning a deep grey shrouded the sky. Around 4pm there was a brief and tiny window in the western sky. As f8-and-be-there serendipity would have it, I was driving by this magnificent willow at that tiny-window moment.

As I was key-stroking yesterday's "thought", a then ill-formed notion popped into my head about the connection between a person's photography and their, for lack of a better psycho-babble term, personality. We all know, as the conventional wisdom goes, that Art is a reflection of its creator - "inner" vision and voice and all that.

This notion has been rattling and clanging around in my noodle for quite some time. Not that I doubt the validity of the notion, it's more that I have been trying to figure out what my photography says about me. I think I gave myself a clue in yesterday's "thought" - specifically the idea that "...it (the weather) is what it is and I take as it comes..." and "...I ,,, photograph what I see when I see it...".

Bingo.

There is a connection between the f8-and-be-there serendipity of ku # 437 (and almost all of my ku photography) and a take-it-as-it-comes "attitude" (preternatural, not adopted) that has pervaded my life. Big or small, I can't seem to plan anything. Just ask my f8-and-be-there serendipity wife who gets somewhat exasperated with the vacant stare she gets from me every time she asks something as simple as what I have planned for the weekend.

Even though f8-and-be-there serendipity could be considered one of the defining characteristics of me, my photography and my life, it is certainly, for purposes of this discussion about photography, not the only thing that forms my photographic vision/voice, but that's a topic for another time.

However, this excerpt from an interview with Paul Caponigro - FOCUS magazine, Dec. 2006 - is instructive:

"I was looking for a very core place, a place that functioned despite all the information and influence. I studied Gurdjieff, looking for reinforcement of what I already knew. When you talk about mysticism and the spirit, you are on pretty shakey ground. Discussion about it and ways of achieving it can be as much a hinderence as a help. I was aware that something in me knew something. Of all the systems that I studied, Gurdjieff provided the most practical approach to reaching that personal knowledge. It had nothing to do with whether or not you were going to be a better artist. Nothing! It had to do with developing your inner place, and once developed, you could apply it; it would automatically come into everything you did. My photographs are no better than my inner space. Gurdjieff teaches you that you must constantly work on your inner space."

And this from the American artist and teacher Robert Henri:

"The man who wants to procuce art must have the emotional side first...art...(is) the measure of the man."

On a purely person note, this measure of the man and no better than my inner space stuff is why I seem to have no respect for the pretty-picture gang. Their work is just shallow, and, by extension, at least to some extent, so are the "artists" - not that I think that they are "bad" people, I just don't want my step daughter to marry one.

Maybe f8-and-be-there should be changed to know-youself-and-be-there.

FEATURED COMMENT: Paul Butzi wrote:"If you don't live it, it won't come out your horn"--Charlie Parker

ku # 436 and a thought for your consideration

2006-11-15T13:08:00.000Z

Maybe it's the time of year that has influenced the darkness of this photograph and those of Michel Legendre and Photopop 7.0. Collectively, we are in the grips of late afternoon sunset sets (4:27pm today) and add to that some gloomy overcast weather...

I can't speak for Michel or Photopop, but I usually don't complain about the weather - it is what it is and I take as it comes. I've even adapted to playing golf in the rain (light rain). I also photograph in the rain, something that I haven't seen much of in photographs. Certainly that is influenced by the desire of many to protect their gear but I suspect that most photographers just aren't "grabbed" by the light. They find it too drab and dreary and would probably prefer to spend their photographic time being all cheery and bright, creating photographs that are all beer and skittles.

And given our cultural preference for escapism and the avoidance of real reality, they are doing a good job of following the piper.

Me, I prefer to photograph what I see when I see it and, as much as is possible with the photographic medium, as it is. You might even say that I think reality bites - but make that "bites" as in jolts, invigorates, slaps in the face, awakens with a bang.

Michel Legendre ~ No content - substance as opposed to form

2006-11-15T13:00:00.000Z

Death is present in all landscape photographs, although we seldom see it. Our eyes and minds filter out the fact that at a cellular level, life is a constant, cataclysmic cycle of death and rebirth and seize on the medium's ability to extend the life of the depicted moment's light, time place and people. Ferdinand Protman in - LANDSCAPE - photography of time and place -

FEATURED COMMENT: Michel Legendre wrote: "I love the "new" term deathscape...That idea of "death" and "cataclysmic cycle" that gives birth to forms that I can capture and use to create photography, is in fact in my mind since more than a year...I think IT IS the """substance""" in everything that I look at, in every form I create...You reactions help me to think it' s about time I put an end to that constant inner dialogue about "form" and "content" that made me stop shooting for a while recently."

Photopop 7.0

2006-11-14T15:46:00.000Z

Photopop 7.0 has recently become fascinated by night photography. In all probablity this stems from his View the Commute photography/blog - the evening half of his commute (6 miles - no traffic, some might take issue with this drive as a "commute") is driven and photographed in the dark. He has discovered the oddly colorful world of out-of-whack WB and, I suspect, the hidden-mystery quality that can be inherent in night photography.

The fact is, I like night photography myself and I thought that you all might like to check out The Nocturnes

urban ku # 7

2006-11-14T13:05:00.000Z

More Philadelphia color from a day at the races.

Mary Dennis ~ Little Blue Park

2006-11-14T04:31:00.000Z

I think what drew me to this little blue park was the humorous convergence of reality with the "painted on." I'm not sure if the muralist intended it or not, but I love that zone at left middle where the fake tree and the real tree meld together. I've shown this image to several people and many of them have said that it looks like good usage of a very small urban space, but the park actually made me feel somewhat uneasy. Maybe it's the odd, unnatural color of the painting and the way the light hit the walls and bounced blue all over the place, but mostly it feels like a sad attempt to replicate something that has been lost or is fading fast.

This image was shot with a 2 megapixel, fixed-focus, setting-free Rolleiflex mini digital camera.

A link

2006-11-13T15:14:00.000Z

Gravitas et Nugalis on TheOnlinePhotographer.blogspot.com

Mike Johnston's photography blog is on my list of daily must-visits. I have followed his in-print writings on photography for a long time. Can't recommend them enough - especially his book The Emperical Photographer, which he advises not to buy at this time because a 2nd edition is on the way.

from the book description on Lulu.com - Mike Johnston has published more than 100 articles about photography in magazines in the U.S. and England. He currently writes for BLACK & WHITE PHOTOGRAPHY and CAMERA ARTS magazines, and his popular column "The Sunday Morning Photographer" appears on the web on The Luminous Landscape, Steve's Digicams, and Photo.Net, and is translated into Polish, Hungarian, Portuguese, and Greek. In the past he was East Coast Editor of CAMERA & DARKROOM and Editor-in-Chief of PHOTO TECHNIQUES. THE EMPIRICAL PHOTOGRAPHER is a collection of the best of his critical articles and essays.

Urban ku # 6 and a last comment on HDR

2006-11-13T14:36:00.000Z

Intersection of Center and Maple Merchantville, NJ.

Eric Fredine wrote (in part), "..I hardly ever see an HDR photograph where I don't immediately notice the halos. It's an inherent characteristic of the process.

I think HDR will be nothing but an interesting historical side-note - a work-around to a technical problem. Exactly the way graduated neutral density filters are (were?) used to overcome the limitations of slide film...."

I agree in as much as HDR/Tone Mapping software/technology is in its infancy and many improvements are needed for it to blossom into an "invisible" technique.

That said, however, I am still not certain after testing the HDR/TM waters - only skimming the surface of the many variables involved in creating a HDR/TM photograph - that obtaining "invisiblely" applied technique is not possible at this state of software development.

In any event, I still believe it behooves the involved photographer to at least familiarize him/her-self with what's going on out there in the HDR/TM paradigm.

Urban ku # 5

2006-11-13T14:30:00.000Z

Philadelphia color on the river near Boathouse Row. There is still a surprising amount of fall color left in Philadelphia - at least it's surprising to north country guy like me, probably not as surprising to people in Philadelphia.

Just a quick note

2006-11-10T16:10:00.000Z

As The Landscapist blog gains density and depth (thanks to one and all), I think you will find much interesting stuff buried in the Archives. IMO, it will be worth your time to explore a bit.

And, a note for all of the "lurkers" out there - my web stats track many repeat visitors from all over the planet - say "hello" and let me and the regulars know what you're thinking (especially all of you from the great continent "down under").

urban ku # 4

2006-11-10T14:00:00.000Z

Do you ever feel the prick to explore landscapes other than the "natural" kind? Is the emphasis placed on the "pure" nature experience of the photographic kind a bit myopic? Is there an element of koyanasquatsi at play? I know that at least one of you out there - Mary Dennis - is scratching the itch to explore other landscapes.

Anyone else?

urban ku # 3

2006-11-10T04:13:00.000Z

A lovely afternoon for a stroll in Old Montreal. It seemed that no matter which way you looked, something beckoned from around the corner, down the street, or in the air - glances, glimpses, and glimmers of curiosities all around.