Lindsey Davidson and I have had the opportunity to work with each other on several occasions (1, 2), and I would say that her transition into modeling is now fairly well complete. It is always great when you find someone who you work easily with, and because of that ideas and such flow easily as well. For this group of images, I took inspiration from the halcyon days of fashion and portrait photography and created a look that I hope feels warm and dreamlike.

Untitled by Jo Ann Walters

As a photographer, one of the most frustrating assessments that I hear commonly, about photography as an art form, is that a photograph is no more nor less than a “document” (of a place/moment/person/etc.).   This is frustrating particularly because it is generally untrue; in fact, a photograph is a distortion and therefore a very poor document.  Considering a photograph to be “true” is like looking in a mirror and suddenly believing that you have a twin.  At its best, photography acts as a conduit for an emotionally charged moment, allowing the viewer to connect with the moment in an emotional, rather than rational, way.

Micheldever, New Hampshire by Bill Brandt

Consider what happens when a photographer takes a picture.  First, he or she places themselves at the event.  Then, he or she brings the camera to their face creating a frame for their vision, which incidentally, renders the three-dimensional world in front them into a two-dimensional plane.  Soon, something about the organization of forms on this plane compels the photographer to take a picture.  A document is born.  But wait, what does this “document” reveal about the event?  What does the photograph/document suggest about the world happening outside of its own very limited, two-dimensional frame, which the viewer has accepted as the “real” truth?  How has the photographer’s choices about focal length, depth of field, shutter speed, and lighting impacted the version of the event that is eventually revealed in the photograph?

In truth, the photographer who covers an event (of a place/moment/person/etc.) is constantly editing down his/her witness’ statement.  This is because it is impossible for a photograph to reveal the entirety of anything.  The photographer must choose what to show and what to say with his or her photographs.  For this reason, other forms of art make better documents naturally; writing is probably the best (it’s the difference between painting fine details with a big, versus a little, brush).  So why do people “believe” in the stories told by photographs?  It is because they are extremely convincing illusions, and they are used everywhere.

This is why a photograph is less than a document, but how can it be more?  How can a photograph compete against other forms of art, like painting and sculpture, in a art for art’s sake world?  The answer lies in my rudimentary explanation of the photographic process above.

When a photographer brings the camera to his or her face, the world is converted from what you can reach out and touch to one where shapes and forms are relative to one another in a way that belies their true proportions.  In the Graciela Iturbide photograph below, of a woman crossing a mountain pass holding a boom-box, the mountains in the distance are not larger than the woman in the foreground.  The woman may as well be a giant; a feminine ethos towering over the landscape.

In the below image by Stephen Shore, there is a perceived frame or edge to the the photograph, which has essentially a two-dimensional surface.  This means that the objects arranged in the composition have an abstract quality apart from their real-world, proportional values.  ”…a photographer solves a picture more than composes one.”  -Stephen Shore, The Nature of Photographs (23)

These attributions of the two-dimensional plane were nonetheless, the primary considerations of fine art painters throughout the Modern Art era.  Picasso thought extensively about how to honor the viewer of his works by not lying about the “surface” of his paintings.  For him, his paintings were objects, having inherent qualities as objects, and painters who tried to elicit the world in a purely naturalistic way (as if a painting were a window to peer through) were liars.  Hans Hofmann taught the principal insights that he gleaned from the painters that he knew in France (like Picasso) to his American students.  He championed the idea of the “push/pull” in painting, which essentially meant that when the paint on the surface of your canvas began to look like it receded into space, you pulled it forward; conversely, when the paint appeared to extend from the surface, you pushed it back (ie. light colors extend, dark colors recede).  In my opinion, Iturbide and Shore would probably agree about treating a photograph as if  it were an object, likewise to a painting, before considering it as a stand-in for the real.

A painting by Hans Hofmann.

Therefore, if a photograph is inherently a fine art object, like a painting, then its morphology with paintings, sculpture, etc. is probably even broader.  So what is art?

In my mind, art is strictly something, possibly the only thing, created by man that does not have a utilitarian purpose as its primary function.  For instance, a car may have an evocative design, one that might even inspire, but its primary function is still to transport a person or people from one place to another.  Thereby, a car is not art.  However, a photograph by Andreas Gursky, like Rein II (pictured below), might have some usefulness as a decoration or as a commodity, but its primary purpose is to engage in an intellectual, rather than utilitarian, way with a viewer of it.  It communicates a message, although not immediately obvious or universal, and if hung in a museum, the work might form a relationship based on contemplation and personal revelation with an infinite number of visitors.  ”The significant step from representational depiction to representational photographic design comes when the subject, the motif, is no longer shot for its own sake, but is demoted from its own meaning to the status of an object of the design intention.  This is achieved by employing this productively and avoiding a mere photographic concretization of the object- the image of the person’s idea of this object and its relations to him.” -Otto Steinert, Andreas Gursky: Works 80-08 (26)

This is for me how art functions.  If taken out of context, there is really very limited use for a work of art because art is not meant to serve humanity but rather to elevate it.  A photographer whose fundamental concern is making art will take the time to conceptualize his or her imagery, a process by which “documentation” is seldom of chief importance.

Here it is, my annual “best of” post. 2011 was notable for me because it represented a refocus on film photography, at first 35mm and then 6 x 4.5cm. Still, my DSLRs did not gather dust either.

Personally speaking, I decided to go back to school (remember, I am self-taught), and this decision encouraged a job change. My eventual goal is to teach. I also created a new interview blog, One Round Jack, which is currently on hiatus until my schedule provides more free time.

In any case, Hours of Idleness has grown by leaps this year, and I welcome all of you new readers. I hope to produce some interesting things to keep you coming back in 2012. Until then, please enjoy the recap (it’s an eclectic mix!).

As promised several weeks ago, here are some of the shots that I took on a visit to a nearby abandoned mausoleum. All photos were shot with a Bronica ETRSi and 75mm f/2.8 lens on Kodak T-Max 100 film. Images were scanned, which contributed to the funky color-cast, and appear completely unedited (save the watermark). I’ll include some scans from the final prints at a later time.

From Wikipedia:

Stephen Miles, a veteran of the War of 1812, was buried here by his son Stephen W. Miles. The mausoleum is located atop Eagle Cliff midway between Columbia and Valmeyer in what is known variously as Eagle Cliff Cemetery or Miles Cemetery. Due to its size and position on the bluff, the mausoleum is visible from several miles away, and has thus gained a prominent position in local legend. It has been a frequent target for vandals, and as a result all bodies were removed and reburied elsewhere; the fifty-six crypts are now empty and open, and the door to the mausoleum is gone.

More–>

We live in a world that is increasingly shrinking; communication technology has made it possible for any two people on any two computers, anywhere on the planet, to know all about one another, yet never have to meet in person. Under these conditions, it is not surprising that it is a common thing for people to lose sight of scale. Chris Jordans’ body of work, Running the Numbers, sets out to correct this lack of awareness, and to illustrate the impact that a single person, family, community or country can make on the planet as a whole.

On display at the St. Louis Artist’s Guild, in Oak Knoll Park, “Running the Numbers: Photographs by Chris Jordan” is a small exhibit consisting of just three, large works. This is presented in loose association with several other artists’ displays brought together for their common theme of conservation awareness and/or environmental sustainability. In the case of Jordan’s work, each object makes a truly dramatic impression that is felt long after standing in front of them.

Not having any firsthand experience viewing Mr. Jordan’s art, my first reaction was to their scale; these prints are massive (on the Andreas Gursky side of the bigness meter). My favorite image, Plastic Bottles, reads like an allover composition from the “Action Painter” era. In particular, Mark Tobey sprang immediately to mind. From several feet away, your eye soars over the image with no focal point to weigh it down, while small clusters of colors momentarily form indiscriminate patterns in a way similar to that of light peeking through the leaves of a gently swaying tree. It is only after some time staring at the work, that a very subtle undulating effect is observed, and this is what drew me closer.

Standing at two feet or so in front of Plastic Bottles allows the subject to emerge from behind the veil of any first perceptions. There is some shock in suddenly realizing that the entire image is composed literally of an immense pile of plastic bottles. The undulations are the subtle ridges and valleys of the pile as it stretches off into the distance.

Plastic Bottles (detail) © Chris Jordan

Upon reading the label, another powerful surprise was registered, “Depicts two million plastic beverage bottles, the number used in the US every five minutes.” This is the effectiveness of Chris Jordan’s work, that which is generally mundane becomes beautifully sublime before transforming finally into an acute self-affirmation of our own grotesque over-consumption. Compelling? Yes.

Chris Jordan: “This project visually examines these vast and bizarre measures of our society; in large intricately detailed prints assembled from thousands of smaller photographs. Employing themes such as the near versus the far, and the one versus the many, I hope to raise some questions about the roles and responsibilities we each play as individuals in a collective that is increasingly enormous, incomprehensible, and overwhelming.”

Certainly, the building-wide exhibit is less impressive than the presentation of the three works by Chris Jordan, but the message still resounds. Overall, my first visit to the St. Louis Artists’ Guild was quite inspiring, despite also leaving me a bit self-effacing (in a good way).

Running the Numbers runs from Friday, November 11, 2011 to Saturday, January 7, 2012. As always, the St. Louis Artists’ Guild’s galleries are free and open to the public.

As promised, here is the second set of images from my recent shoot with Lindsey Davidson, photographer (and model ). These were all shot on 35mm film (Kodak T-Max 400) with a Nikon N80 and Nikkor 50mm f/1.8D or Nikkor 28-80mm f/3.3-5.6G lens.

Recently, I had the opportunity to photograph my friend and fellow photographer, Lindsey Davidson. Lindsey is an aspiring photojournalist, and works primarily in 35mm, black and white (what I shot the part 2 to this post with ~coming soon~). I had a great time working with Miss Davidson, and I appreciate the fact that she really went for it in these images, despite offering that, like me, she is more comfortable behind the camera than in front of it (Lindsey, I don’t think that anyone can tell).

All Nikon D300 with either Nikkor 17-55mm f/2.8G, Nikkor 105mm f/2.8G, or Nikkor 50mm f/1.8D lens.

Recently, I photographed the installation of Ann-Maree Walker’s new site-specific work, Almost Like Being There, which will remain on display through October 21st at the Luminary Center for the Arts in St. Louis. Incidentally, I also photographed the image for her promo card (see above).

All photographs, Nikon D300 with either the Nikkor 17-55mm f/2.8G, Nikkor 105mm f/2.8G, or Tokina 11-16mm f/2.8 AT-x Pro lenses.

Although Ann-Maree makes wonderful drawings, her better-known work exists in 3-D and encourages interaction with the viewer. In this instance, Mrs. Walker has suggested that her work in this former chapel is something which channels both the spectacle and physical movement of worship. In her words, “The engagement between the viewer and the work creates a choreographed performance that humorously explores the rituals of conforming one’s body to an environment in order to achieve a higher state of experience.”

If you have not yet had the opportunity, I highly recommend checking out this exhibition before it’s too late. Please click on the photo at the top of this post for more information.

Opening this Sunday is a group show featuring work by 9 artists, including my friend and fellow photographer, Jacob Lucas. The reception runs from 2-5p at 1900 Washington Avenue, and the work will be on display through October 23, 2011.

For more information, please visit: willfloresfund.org

Last week, I posted a pic from a new series of photographs that I am working on. This week, I am showing off more shots of some of the men from the series, and next week, I hope to have some of the women ready to put on display. It is interesting to me to observe how differently the women versus the men approached posing for this; the women had a sort of default “pose-face” whereas the men kind of let their guard down a bit more. I guess that’s culture….

All Nikon N80 with the Nikkor 105mm f/2.8G lens and Kodak T-Max 400 film. Prints are on Adorama-branded, variable-contrast, fiber paper. Please excuse my dusty and orientation-moody scanner.