Postcards from the Creative Journey

879 - Professionals Avoid Surprises, Artists Welcome Surprises

Surprises should abound in the artistic life. Doing the unexpected or using something definitely not for the intended purpose should be high on the list of things for artists to do. Decades ago I needed a storage device for my 4x5 sheet film negatives. I had no idea what I could use to safely store my precious negatives. The answer came from my wife’s Tupperware catalog. The Tupperware bread storage container was the perfect size for those negatives. My 4x5 negatives are still there today, fresh as they day they made it into the Tupperware bread box.

One of the stumbling blocks to making large platinum prints was enlarging negatives. Dan Burkholder came up with a method to make digital negatives using overhead projection sheets and an inkjet printer. Once the printer technology caught up with Dan’s ideas, it was relatively easy to make digital negatives.

Trying something different, abusing materials, taking clues from other fields is being an artist.

Do something to surprise yourself.

878 - Silence IS Golden, First Published 5/29/2016

Have you ever noticed that when you find yourself looking at a truly great photograph you really can’t say anything much more than “Yup” while nodding your head? Photographs that are less than perfect give you the opportunity to talk about them. But when you look at a great image you are speechless. You can offer no comment because there are none to offer.

Perfection is worshipped in respectful silence.

Please talk about the photograph posted above. It’s worthy of extensive conversation.

877 - Remember To Make Art, Not Photographs

Way back in the olden days of photography, you know, like the twentieth century, we could identify as a photographer (to use the modern parlance). Photographers used a camera, a darkroom and made prints to be mounted, matted and hung on a wall. It was all pretty simple. That’s because the only way for the common photographer to display their images was that photo hanging on the wall. I know I used to be a photographer.

Now, I don’t think the word photographer means much anymore. The number of people that stop their artwork with a print on the wall is far smaller than it used to be. Post processing options have expanded exponentially since I began “souping my negs” (that’s some old-fashioned photo-speak for you – authentic photographic gibberish for you young ‘uns out there).

The number of options to display our photographs has also increased dramatically. It is the increase in the number of options and how we chose to display the images we capture move us away from “just being a photographer” to being considered an artist.

So go out there and make some art. Don’t forget to start with a photograph.

876 - He’s a Real Technician, First Published 2/16/2014

Used to be that was quite a compliment to a photographer. The reason being was that in the olden days of silver gelatin photography, being a technician was a huge part of the photographic process. One had to understand the nuances of film exposure, be adept at formulating photographic chemistry for film (and paper) and be able to manipulate all the chemical and mechanical factors required to produce a wonderful black and white print. Doing it once was tough enough. Doing multiple copies required consummate skill acquired through constant repetition of what some referred to as darkroom drudgery. There was an entire class of photographic heroes capable of inspiring awe solely through their technical mastery of black and white print processing. The content of their photographs was pedestrian, but how they exposed, developed and printed was rewarded because it was (and still is) a difficult process to make a beautiful silver gelatin print.

Being a recognized technician does have its shortcomings these days. Used to be that a technical expert was revered because of the time it took to learn the craft and establish bona fides as an expert. This was absolutely acceptable with an established unchanging technology. Once photography changed from a mechanical/chemical to an electronic/software technology the entire concept of a technical expert changed. The life time of a technical expert dropped from years to months. I have yet to make up my mind whether this rapid acceleration in technology is actually good or not. Having new stuff to use is actually very nice, but I am not sure if we have enough time to figure out how to use it in anything other than in a superficial manner before the next “latest and greatest” improvement happens along.

875 - The Heartbreak of Image Sequencing

With our automagic cameras, incredible lenses, and image stabilization, virtually every image we make is crystal clear, sharp as a tack and perfectly exposed. The issue then becomes editing a group of images down to a presentation that is clear and comprehensible. There is a downside to this editing.

Sometimes your favorite images don’t make it into a project because the criteria for the project do not match your favorite image. Ah, the heartbreak of leaving a favorite image on the cutting room floor (as the movie folks used to say in the days of film editing).

I’m working on a large project with the object of creating a book publication. There is an economic factor that must be considered when creating a publication and there must be a bit of a hard heart when it comes to selecting and sequencing the content.

We are not like the Special Forces. Sometimes we leave something behind.

---

(Sigh.) I really like this image, but it was not to be included in my latest project. At least you can see it here.

874 - When Bigger Isn’t Better, First Published 10/21/2012

Large photographs are impersonal. In order to see them, you have to stand far away. It’s as if the photographer doesn’t want you to get close to his image or establish a close relationship with it. It is not an arm’s length relationship. It is a way across the room relationship where the viewer must worship from afar. Whether it’s a deliberate tactic to separate the audience from a photograph or just a reflection of the artist’s ego that demands his work cover as much wall space as possible indicates to me the artist is not really interested in getting close to his audience and connecting with them. “Worship my Art from afar, you are not worthy to occupy the vicinity of my Art. Sniff.”

I am uncomfortable when my art gets too big. I’m pretty sure than stems from making silver gelatin prints in the darkroom. Big prints were expensive because everything needed to be big – negatives, enlargers, enlarging lenses, papers, trays, drying racks, dry mount presses… It was a major investment to jump from 11 x 14 to 16 x 20. And the worst part about it was you didn’t know if your negatives were good until it was too late. We all printed small. 8 x 10 was a standard size, 11 x 14 was a big print. 16 x 20 was for the accomplished artist. If you made prints bigger than 16 x 20, your name was Ansel Adams. I tried the bigger prints and they just didn’t work for me. I could not create the quality I wanted in a larger print, so my work stayed small.

I choose to make small photographs because I want you to be able to hold the picture in your hands and be able to look closely at it. I want you to spend some time looking at details and develop a relationship with the image.

873 Creativity on the Clock

Sometimes there is a definite amount of time you can be creative. It’s like a workout. There is a warmup, a time for peak activity and then a cool down. In assembling a good-sized book project I found that I only had a few “good” hours every day to pursue this project.

I was disappointed in myself with this lack of enthusiasm, but then remembered the Labyrinth Project. I could only work a couple of hours at a time on this project because it required intense concentration on the details required to create the triptychs.

This might say something about me, or maybe this experience is universal. We have so many peak hours a day, use them wisely.

872 - But I am an Artiste!, First Published 12/29/2013

Ted Orland said the most common response to him stating he was a photographer was (and probably still is), “Oh, you’re a photographer. Do you do weddings?” I sympathize with his plight.

I am a photographic artiste, you know. I photograph scenes of uncommon beauty and emotional depth. I have a web site, a blog, a multi-page CV, magazine credits and a bunch of prize winning photographs (I even have blue ribbons!). So, when you get asked to be one of the official team photographers for the big annual conference, the only thing you can possibly do is to enthusiastically raise your hand, say, “You bet I will be the photographer,” and then go out and try to make the absolute best photographs of that event that have ever been made.

Making the photographs you want to make when you want to make them is an absolute privilege. Making the photographs others need when they say they have to be made is a responsibility. That’s a much more difficult thing to do and a challenge that should be welcomed. It’s one thing to create a great photograph. It’s quite another create a great photograph when you have to do it. Having to deliver great photographs is the motivation to produce the best work you can when you are not in your comfort zone. It’s a challenge to you to see differently for a change and produce something new and exciting.