9.29.2008
9.28.2008
Personal Response: Diptychs
Although I enjoyed this project and am pretty satisfied with the results of my efforts, I believe that it could have easily gone the other way on both fronts. Shooting slide film was fun---and the process was extremely satisfying---but once I had all my slides, it was nearly impossible to pick good matches for them before I had acquired lots of materials. I went to the store and started looking for stuff to scan, but I found it difficult to even remember specific details about slides I had only seen on screen for a few minutes. This naturally made it pretty difficult to find objects that really responded to the photos in my mind. Instead, I just selected things I thought would be interesting to scan, regardless of their relevance to the slides. I went up to the studio and started fooling around, and some time later my four diptychs emerged. I don't know whether it was my own creative instincts that provided for good match-ups, or if it was just luck, but I came away from the project feeling pretty fortunate that the objects I picked up at the store---almost at random---worked so well. I guess I would be more confident in my own creative abilities if there had been a rough-draft deadline and then a final. Whenever any pairings are going on, it's always good to step back and maybe change things around after getting some space.
9.24.2008
Landscapes
Response to the photography of Ray Metzker, Arno Minkinnen, and John Pfahl:
The best thing (in my opinion) about these three photographers is their very loose interpretation of what makes a landscape photograph. So often landscape photography fills this trite role of grandiose vistas with dramatic lighting and nary a human in sight. I won't name names, but we all know.... It's been done---time for something new. Metzker's photographs really fight the landscape ideal in a grinding, give-no-inch style. His dizzying close-ups of flora have all the necessary subject matter for a traditional landscape, but none of the perspective. I had a bit of trouble getting used to his washed out, low contrast tonal range, but I suspect it would be less distracting in a larger print.
Arno Minkinnen was for me the most interesting of the three. His personal involvement with the actual land in each picture made the atmosphere much more salient and tangible. One photograph shows him diving head-first into an icy pond. A picture of an icy pond looks cold. A picture of a man diving into that pond feels frigid. I definitely preferred the photographs in which he imposes himself on the landscape, rather than incorporating a body part into it. For example, there is one photo that shows an arm following the curve of a river that is an interesting play on perspective, but it falls short of putting me in that space. Maybe that's not his goal, though, in which case it would be irrelevant.
Finally, we come to John Pfahl. I wasn't crazy about this guy. A lot of his series were pretty standard, autumnal-nature feel-good types. I thought his work strengthened up a lot when he tackeled man-made landscapes rather than the Susquehanna river or whatever. The smoke landscapes were really compelling in their dirty, ephemeral grittiness. Also, the "Altered Landscapes" section was arresting. I say that because half of those pictures made me stop and just stare in bewilderment at what was going on. It's confusing stuff, but that's a great thing. Better to come away from something feeling confused and maybe a little pissed off than whatever an autumn river scene could do for you.
The best thing (in my opinion) about these three photographers is their very loose interpretation of what makes a landscape photograph. So often landscape photography fills this trite role of grandiose vistas with dramatic lighting and nary a human in sight. I won't name names, but we all know.... It's been done---time for something new. Metzker's photographs really fight the landscape ideal in a grinding, give-no-inch style. His dizzying close-ups of flora have all the necessary subject matter for a traditional landscape, but none of the perspective. I had a bit of trouble getting used to his washed out, low contrast tonal range, but I suspect it would be less distracting in a larger print.
Arno Minkinnen was for me the most interesting of the three. His personal involvement with the actual land in each picture made the atmosphere much more salient and tangible. One photograph shows him diving head-first into an icy pond. A picture of an icy pond looks cold. A picture of a man diving into that pond feels frigid. I definitely preferred the photographs in which he imposes himself on the landscape, rather than incorporating a body part into it. For example, there is one photo that shows an arm following the curve of a river that is an interesting play on perspective, but it falls short of putting me in that space. Maybe that's not his goal, though, in which case it would be irrelevant.
Finally, we come to John Pfahl. I wasn't crazy about this guy. A lot of his series were pretty standard, autumnal-nature feel-good types. I thought his work strengthened up a lot when he tackeled man-made landscapes rather than the Susquehanna river or whatever. The smoke landscapes were really compelling in their dirty, ephemeral grittiness. Also, the "Altered Landscapes" section was arresting. I say that because half of those pictures made me stop and just stare in bewilderment at what was going on. It's confusing stuff, but that's a great thing. Better to come away from something feeling confused and maybe a little pissed off than whatever an autumn river scene could do for you.
9.22.2008
9.17.2008
Gordon Bell
In response to "Remember This? A project to record everything we do in life." in the New Yorker:
Gordon Bell has certainly accomplished something impressive---gargantuan is a better term for it. But how relevant and useful is this archive he has assembled? He himself admitted to not really having an efficient system of organization in his digital archive. He doesn't seem to use the archive for anything. He collects for the sake of archiving. Some of the things he hopes to see in the future---like a computer program that monitors your caloric intake and health---are great ideas and probably will appear sooner or later. But even if they were to appear tomorrow, his archive is unsuitable for any sort of thorough, precise search. I also have a problem with the fact that most of his archive was previously extant in paper form---and was already organized and filed as such. If you already have a good system in place, why trade it in for a flashier, technology-based one? Even in terms of the archival lifespans, the jury is still out on whether digital files will outlast pieces of paper. Bell is right to be worried that the JPEG format won't last far into the future. As internet connection speeds and CPUs get faster, the need to compress images for quick viewing will be phased out (my guess).
For a system like Bell's to make sense and be useful, information and data need to be in digital form at the moment you recieve them. Scanning, while useful in the preservation of historical documents, is inefficient and not suited for everyday living. Bell had to hire someone to scan for him on a full-time basis. Personal life archives would be extremely useful if there were a standard, efficient system for organizing them and if digital data were formatted and designed with the archiving in mind.
Gordon Bell has certainly accomplished something impressive---gargantuan is a better term for it. But how relevant and useful is this archive he has assembled? He himself admitted to not really having an efficient system of organization in his digital archive. He doesn't seem to use the archive for anything. He collects for the sake of archiving. Some of the things he hopes to see in the future---like a computer program that monitors your caloric intake and health---are great ideas and probably will appear sooner or later. But even if they were to appear tomorrow, his archive is unsuitable for any sort of thorough, precise search. I also have a problem with the fact that most of his archive was previously extant in paper form---and was already organized and filed as such. If you already have a good system in place, why trade it in for a flashier, technology-based one? Even in terms of the archival lifespans, the jury is still out on whether digital files will outlast pieces of paper. Bell is right to be worried that the JPEG format won't last far into the future. As internet connection speeds and CPUs get faster, the need to compress images for quick viewing will be phased out (my guess).
For a system like Bell's to make sense and be useful, information and data need to be in digital form at the moment you recieve them. Scanning, while useful in the preservation of historical documents, is inefficient and not suited for everyday living. Bell had to hire someone to scan for him on a full-time basis. Personal life archives would be extremely useful if there were a standard, efficient system for organizing them and if digital data were formatted and designed with the archiving in mind.
9.14.2008
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