A bottle of wine flies across the room and I see some kind of orange substance ground into the floor near the bar. There are multiple, quiet conversations taking place, none of which I can resolve, nor which I care about, though I swear that I hear someone say, “boring”. A woman approaches and asks me about something. I’m sure I can hear her but nothing is making sense. Something about intent. There are too many lights and they are bright and distracting. There are numerous people who appear to be staring at me. They each have jiggling glasses of wine and I can smell them. The floor below me feels soggy. I see the bar, and the bartender is staring at me as well, but his eyes are more compassionate. Through the window looking outside, I see many white lights quickly moving by. Then there are bright red lights which move by much more frantically, and there is a loud sound.
The sound of the siren is excruciating and it sends me through some kind of barrier. It awakens me. I’m aware of a woman standing next to me and she is smiling. She appears to be waiting for me to respond. As I’ve learned to do, I apologize to her and ask her to repeat the question. She asks me what my intent was when I took this photo. She points, and I turn and look at the photo on the wall in the frame and I see a black and white representation of a crack in the ground with a pylon next to it. Did I take that photo? I think I would love to jump into it. Something about it makes me want to scream for joy. As to my intent, I recall the crack and the pylon asking me if I would please take their photo before they vanish, and I obeyed. But I cannot say this to the woman. I look back to the bartender for pointers and in hopes that he will send me a few words to play with but he is talking and pouring wine. As a last resort, I think of something I’ve rehearsed and spit it out: ‘The shapes are what intrigued me here.’ Then I pause. In my nervousness I cannot remember the next part, and she stares at me but I give her my ‘final face’ so she’ll have to be satisfied. ‘I see’, she says and then she quietly walks away. My heart is pounding. Flustered, I attempt to move toward the bar.
My journey there will not be an easy one. There will be interruptions and mishaps along the way. It’s possible that I will walk into someone and cause them to spill their wine. They will question me about my photos and I’ll be forced to speak with them and will most likely spit out a rehearsed response. Each step that I take increases my chances for an embarrassing encounter. Someone reaches out and grabs my arm. ‘Your work is beautiful’, they say. I spit out a ‘thank you’ and continue toward the bar. Someone else turns and faces me directly with a sad expression on their face, and utters, ‘Your work makes me feel so sad’. I spit out an ‘I’m sorry’ and they smile, turning away. I continue on but before I can move very far I trip over someone’s leg and fall forward, spilling their wine. My hand lands in the puddle and arms grab at me to lift me up. “I’m sorry”, I spit out, turning red as they lift me, and everyone is smiling. As if nothing has happened, the conversations continue, though I still can’t resolve them. I do hear someone say, ‘very trite’, however. I try to stand back up straight but it’s difficult. The room is so bright and confusing. I continue forward and can see that the bar is now within my grasp. There is the bartender with his compassionate eyes looking at me. Behind him on the white wall I can see writing in black: ‘Photography by’ and then my own name in cursive.
I stumble into the bar and without diverting his gaze away from me the bartender moves to brace a few bottles of wine setting there. I spit out, ‘I’m sorry” and he grins, and lifts up a brown bowl full of orange objects. ‘Not to worry, have a cheese puff’, he offers. There are numerous bowls filled with orange objects along the bar. I look at them and then look back at the bowl he is holding. I move to reach for one but am interrupted by a crash as someone drops a glass of wine behind me. I look back but can’t see any broken glass and no one is reacting. I turn back to the bowl of orange objects and touch one. They feel soft and gritty. ‘His work is somewhat derivative’, I make out from a random direction as I taste the saltiness of the puff and look to the bartender for approval. Still grinning, he lowers the bowl. ‘You’re having quite a time today.’ he says, and then, ‘My name is Benny. Benny the bartender. And how are you, Mr. Jeff?’ He points to the wall behind him without turning away from me just as I begin to ask how he knows my name. ‘You’re the star today, Mr. Jeff. Everyone knows your name, a name worth knowing’. He grins another grin and offers up the bowl again. I shake my head and from another direction I think I hear someone say, ‘Photoshop? Figures.’
A person approaches from the left, grabs my arm, and yells at me in a very high voice, ‘Your work reminds me of certain scenes from my childhood!’ It jolts me and in my reaction, I knock a bottle of wine off the bar which Benny matter-of-factly catches before it hits the ground. I look to my left and a large male body builder type is there, waiting for my response. I spit out, ‘thank you’. The body builder nods, slaps my back with vigor, and quickly walks away. I look to Benny who has his hand over his mouth, shoulders bouncing. He takes his hand away and shrugs. ‘Well, it would seem that many people admire you work.’, he says. I nod and take another cheese puff, this one damp with wine. From a direction perpendicular to the bar I hear, “Not much talent here. I could do that.”
‘Benny’, I whisper, ‘believe it or not, I’m not having a good time here at all. In fact I’m feeling very misunderstood’. Benny, looking at me with those understanding eyes, says, ‘You know, I’m an artist too. No, really! You wouldn’t know it I realize, I mean, I’m the bartender here, but I do have to make a living. I never feel misunderstood because I try to communicate my intentions through my art in a way that is so obvious that no one could possibly misunderstand.’ I think about this and I wonder if it’s even possible for art to communicate so directly. I know for sure that my own art doesn’t communicate that way. So I ask Benny, ‘What would you do if your art didn’t communicate directly, and there was so much left to interpretation that your audience couldn’t possibly know your intentions?’ Benny thought about this for a moment, and then answered, ‘Well, I suppose I would have to let them know through some other outlet’.
I think about this as I glance up and again notice my name on the wall. Seeing it up there is somewhat reassuring, and I suddenly feel the need to boldly express myself in words, so I blurt out very loudly, “This entire exhibition is a waste of fuckin’ time! It doesn’t at all represent how I feel or who I am or what I do! When I’m out taking pictures, there’s HEAT, there’s DIRT, there’s NOISE, there’s EXCITEMENT! But here, what do we have? A clean, air conditioned room with wine and cheese puffs and uninformed people and my photos hanging nicely in neat little rows and in perfect little frames! It’s all so completely counter to my mindset as an artist and even as a human being! You know what I think the perfect exhibition would be? I would take my photos and attach them to my Jeep and drive at least 100 miles per hour, and force you mother fuckers to drive along side of me to see my work! Then maybe you would understand my mindset and who I am and just who the fuck it is you’re dealing with!”
After I finish, there is a silence the likes of which I’ve not heard since before I was conceived and I look at Benny who has eyes bigger and wider than any I have ever imagined. Benny being Benny, he quickly recovers and says, ‘I think that came off very well. Consider yourself understood!” We mutually smile at one another at which point it all rushes back to me, the nervousness, the unconfident feelings, the feeling that I’m once again alone on a planet in another solar system and I am caught wearing unmatching socks. Benny immediately understands of course, and shoots me a look of sympathy, as a monster approaches from the right and says in a whiney voice, “You know, I really liked your speech. It brought back to me subtle feelings of my last family vacation to Las Vegas. But your photos do need a little work.’ I look back at Benny in disbelief and in a moment of weakness he can only hold up another brown bowl and mutter, ‘Cheese puff Mr. Jeff?’
I shudder. Having reached a limit of sorts, I jerk quickly to the left and knock two bowls of cheese puffs into the air with such force that even Benny cannot catch them in time. The cheese puffs fly upward, and when they land they are squished into the floor by my own shoes as I attempt to flee. I find that I am immediately blocked by lovers of my work and so am forced to stop short, and adopting a false smile, I again slowly attempt to work my way through the crowd. Along my journey, I am asked questions and receive many compliments, the most poignant of which is, “Your work makes me feel like I already know you, kind of like I AM you, which really pisses me off, because I mean, why the hell would I want to know you, let alone BE you?” I continue slowly moving forward, until I finally make my way through the chilled room, out the front door and into the warm night, a few lingering admirers still trying to grab at me for punctuation.
I see many lights quickly moving by, and there are sounds that are immediately relaxing to me. I take multiple deep breaths, and begin to gain my senses back. It feels great to feel less insane. I hear in the far distance the sounds of a marching band, there must be a parade somewhere. I concentrate on the passing cars and they ground me. The full moon is lighting everything just enough so that I can hear what I see. The music from the band is growing louder and I’m beginning to feel its vibrations. I look to my right and in the moonlight I can see dancing reflections along the sidewalk. They pulsate to the rhythm of the music. As they approach, I consider my current position in life and fear that I have a long way to go. I realize that it doesn’t matter what others think, but it also doesn’t matter what I think. I wonder if it’s possible to figure anything out but I also understand that it’s best not to worry about it. The vibrations become critical and the marching band is right in front of me and there are tubas, trombones, trumpets, accordions, and a bass and snare drum. They begin to circle around me on the narrow sidewalk. They are playing very loudly and aggressively in tones and rhythms that are foreign to me. Each band member is wearing a T-shirt with an imprint in large, red lettering that says, “None of this has to be how it is.” Out of fear, I consider escaping back into the gallery and visiting with my admirers, but the music doesn’t allow for it. I can hear each player playing individually as they move past me and it’s hypnotic. Each instrument sounds unique but they all seem to be speaking with one voice in a unified chant which I take to be singing my praises. I realize that I’ve been successful here today. Everyone is here for me. They all came for me. Maybe it shouldn’t matter that they don’t understand me.
Four tubas stop in front of me and face me. I can feel their vibrations very strongly. They slowly move closer and closer. The band which is now playing at fever pitch suddenly stops and there is silence. I can only hear the cars passing by. The tuba players slowly begin to lean back and inhale as deeply as possible and when they’ve reached capacity they pause, looking at me with eyes of warning. I pray that they won’t, but I know otherwise. They lean forward quickly and exhale through their instruments with such force that all of the gallery windows shatter completely.
The sound of the tubas are excruciating and they send me through some kind of barrier. They awaken me. I look around and the band is gone. My ears are ringing. I turn and walk back inside the gallery. Everything is cold and pristine and the room is empty. I can hear the air conditioner. Benny is there and I look at him and there are the bottles of wine on the bar and he stares back at me blankly. ‘Benny, do you think anyone will come to my opening?’, I ask. ‘Who the fuck is Benny?’ he yells as he grabs up one of the bottles from the bar and with an off-putting glare, launches it across the room.
A few years back, I did something that wasn’t very smart. I decided to place myself in a position of personal risk. I didn’t know what the outcome would be, and I didn’t realize how educational it would be. I knew there was potential for rioting if the Los Angeles Lakers won the championship in 2010 against the Boston Celtics since there had been riots in previous years. At the time I lived only a few blocks away from the area, so I decided to walk over with my video camera to see what would happen.
I placed myself at the corner of Olympic and Figueroa in downtown Los Angeles, right near the potential center of the action. I began filming about one minute before the end of the game. Just as the game ended and the Lakers won the championship, the crowd became very excited. Everything was OK for about two minutes. After that, things began to change.
The area where I was standing at the edge of the street became overly crowded. A police line had begun to form, keeping pedestrians from walking into the street. Tensions began to increase as the spectators taunted the police. The police had shields and sticks. They were doing their very best to keep things in check. At one point during this build up I was pushed over and buried underneath the crowd. I figured I would be injured, or worse. To my amazement, rather than being trampled upon, I was quickly pulled up by those standing around me. It was obvious that I was on their side. We were one and it seemed to be us against the police.
There was now a very huge crowd and many police cars were in the streets. I decided it was time to move on. I headed north on Figueroa. The crowd was so compressed that it was difficult to move. After a moment I came to an opening. To my left, a large group of people were attempting to overturn a very heavy motorized construction sign by rocking it back and fourth. To my right, another group was attempting to kick over a metal newspaper dispenser which was bolted to the ground while they were waving flags. Those on the left finally succeeded while those on the right did not. The police began to appear with guns. They were incredibly calm, even as the situation was beginning to unravel in front of them.
The police line was now very slowly moving north on Figueroa, forcing everyone to move in that direction. Along this route there were car alarms going off, cars with windows broken in, and small, patchy fires burning on the ground. A few fights began to break out. In those cases, to my amazement, the fights were broken up by the rioters themselves. Order within the chaos. It would seem that their intention was to be destructive without causing bodily harm.
I developed a filming technique based on fear. Not thinking it was a good idea to let anyone know that I was filming them, I would turn the camera away just as I saw someone beginning to look in my direction. Because of this, I was moving the camera almost constantly, attempting to anticipate their motions. In a strange way it added to the drama of the final filming, but also meant that I was almost never pointing the camera in one direction or at one subject for an extended period of time.
The police line was now more organized and police on horseback were appearing. They began to order people to move in specific directions. They began to deploy. Police helicopters started to appear as well. The rioters began to look unsettled. A huge line of police on horseback was forming. They pushed the crowd east on 9th Street. There were still rioters who were taunting them. The police begin to fire rubber bullets. People began to run. We ran out of range and things quieted down.
Strangely, I realized that I was beginning to feel more relaxed. I realized that I was not being threatened by the rioters. These were riots but they were riots of joy. These were people who were celebrating. These were people who were enjoying themselves. These were people looking for an excuse to destroy. They were not out to harm one another. This was a big party. A huge, destructive party. Now, even my filming seemed to be non-threatening to them. They were eager to let the world know that they were happy to be destructive.
I walked down through a quieter area and came to the backside of a police line. One of the officers saw me and ordered, “Go this way”, to the left. A few others turned around, shields, sticks, and guns, and made sure I followed those orders. They had no way of knowing if I had recently destroyed something or if I was just a guy with a cheap video camera. I quietly slipped past them.
I continued further. Around a corner they were drawing on a taxicab with ink pens. They were writing words I couldn’t read, possibly graffiti. Further down I could see rioters dancing on top of taxicabs. They attempted to turn the cabs over. They were rocking them back and forth. There was a driver inside one of the cabs. They tried to turn his cab over. They tried harder and harder but could not overturn it. The cab driver escaped. A skateboarder approached and slammed the cab window with his skateboard, shattering the glass. Another rioter took a match and threw it inside the taxicab through the shattered window. Everyone began to quasi-chant. Slowly the interior of the taxicab begin to catch fire. The Rioters backed off. As they moved away the flames grew higher and brighter. There were loud bangs. Someone yelled out, “They’re shooting, they’re shooting!”, as the police fired off more rubber bullets. We ran down the street. I looked back and could see flames engulfing the taxicab. We ran further until we turned around a corner.
We ran through traffic to cross the street, an officer on a bicycle attempting to stop us. We dispersed into the crowd and into the night. In this area, things were beginning to calm down, with only smaller incidents taking place in the distance. The batteries were beginning to run low on my camera, so it was time to head home. I only had a four block walk to get there. It was hard to believe that all of this was taking place so near to my residence.
As I was walking home and just before my camera died, one of the rioters shouted out, “I don’t want to be a victim! I don’t want to be a victim! I don’t care! I want to get the fuck out of here!” Suddenly the guilty man was the innocent man. It’s all a matter of perspective I suppose.
I sometimes feel as if all of this was a strange dream. Growing up within protective suburbia, it was a unique experience. It left me with the feeling that everyone has a violent side that they would love to unleash, they just need a good reason to do so. Or even a bad reason. We’ve all lost our temper, maybe there’s proof in that alone. Maybe there are everyday versions of this, such as pounding a nail into the wall, or sawing a tree trunk.
I must say the the actions of the police were commendable. They were always incredibly calm, and highly successful in moving the crowd along using their slow and patient yet continually relentless techniques. Not once did I see an incident of police brutality or abuse of the kind amplified in the media today.
Below you can view the film. I apologize ahead of time for my roller-coaster camera work. If you have motion sickness, you may want to skip this one. I would suggest full screen, high volume, for best effect.
I don’t own any expensive photographic equipment. I prefer to shoot with cheaper point and shoot digital cameras. The reasoning for this is both practical and philosophical.
First the practical: I’m hiking through a treacherous, rocky area and I drop my camera into a crack between two huge boulders completely out of reach or rescue. Do I want to dish out thousands to replace it? No way. Since I tend to be rough on things, this is the practical option.
Now the philosophical: I tend to be rough on things, and that’s how I like it.
That is not to say I don’t respect certain physical items. I actually do have the ability to treat certain pieces of my equipment with care and respect. For example my new GoPro Hero4 Black camera. So far, I’ve been very kind to it and have even purchased lens covers and I keep it in it’s protective casing whenever possible. At $500, it’s the single most expensive piece of photographic equipment that I own, so I should treat it with care, shouldn’t I?
Pictured below is my previous camera collection:
A few details: the Kodak DC-280 died in a sandstorm at El Mirage Dry Lake. The Canon Powershot A640 pretty much gave out when it was waterlogged while trying to photograph waves close up. The iPhone died after hitting the floor right after I flipped it in the air while making my bed (I think it was hiding from me under the sheets…) The other cameras simply passed, most likely searching in desperation for relief in the camera after-life. One, not pictured here, was stolen at a large field event when a person impersonating a trash collector walked up and took it right from my side, (this was decided after some deduction and with no one else to blame it on…)
But the practical side is not my only rationale for the purchase of these cheaper cameras, it’s also the philosophical. It’s the feeling that I’m doing a lot with a little. It’s the feeling that the equipment that I’m working with is not interfering with my creativity due to its being complicated by switches, dials, and gizmos. It’s the feeling that I’m not trying to be part of some kind of techie club, trying out and discussing the latest features. It’s the feeling that technology is not interfering with my way of seeing, (or is it?) It’s the feeling that my camera is simply an eye through which I view the world without barriers, (or is it?)
Mostly however it’s the feeling that the camera is part of who I am and that it takes on my personality. If I am leaping from rock to rock, it leaps along with me. It doesn’t dictate how I should move from place to place. I don’t have to think about protecting it while I’m on the move. This frees me up to concentrate on the terrain around me. It allows me to work with the lay of the land on my terms rather than the terms of some external influence.
The idea is to see beyond the camera. Or to see in spite of it. Or maybe simply to spite it, to get pissed at it for my needing it in the first place. Why do I need it? Why can’t I do all of this without it? The very idea of having it is forcing me to think within narrower terms than I would otherwise. When I don’t have it I accept everything as legitimate, without worry. Why does its presence cause me to be narrow-minded? Without it I’m free to see however I want. With it I’m forced to see things more specifically, to think less freely. But alas, I do need it there with me. The one I have inside me with all of that freedom won’t do the job.
At least I can be rough on it. I can beat it up a little. I can take out aggressions on it for its attempts to hold me back. If I do drop it in that crack between two boulders, that’ll serve it right. True, I’ll have to buy another one, but at least the first one will get what’s coming to it. Crappy little vision minimizin’ contraption.
But OK, maybe I shouldn’t let these things affect me in this way. How can a small device such as a camera really change the way I view the world? What is it about the thing that makes myself and others question my abilities to see correctly? How is it that rooms full of people can sit and intensely discuss captured visual moments that are not worth a single word when the parameter of time is included? There’s an apple on a table over there, not a big deal, but hey I have an idea, let’s turn that into single moment in time so that we can contemplate the way it looks even though each of us already saw it beforehand.
What is it about the power of the camera that causes fear and shyness in otherwise outspoken individuals? “Oh, I could never show anyone my work, it’s not very good”. Not true, it’s every bit as good as it is in the real world, in fact it IS the real world, and we don’t get embarrassed or shy about that do we? We walk past a tree and we see the tree there in front of us and then you show me a photo that you took of that tree and somehow, someway, it’s not as good as the tree, even though it is the tree, the same tree we’re looking at right now.
So it comes to this: Stand there and look at a beautiful scene, nice, but raise your camera and click a button and now that same scene is subject to criticism, curation, mockery, imitation, praise, rejection, ego, valuation, collecting, selling, over-rating, under-appreciation, promotion, distribution, duplication, framing, archiving, theft, damage, and with any luck, auctioning. No one man-made object deserves to have that much transformative power over something that can already be viewed by everyone, anytime, without it.
So do yourself and all of us a favor. Destroy your cameras. All of them. It’s obvious that they’ve got an agenda, one which is already influencing the masses, instilling fear, inflicting pain, and limiting our ability to see clearly and subjectively.
Everything is a good photographic subject. There are no bad photographic compositions.
I was incredibly lucky and honored to have given an artist talk to the Disney Imagineering Photography Group last year. One of the Imagineers bought my photography book at Photo L.A., and she later invited me to speak to the group. It was very difficult and intimidating to know what to say to them. I thought, “Should I include in my talk examples of my photos that had shapes and lines that were reminiscent of the shapes of Disney Characters?” Well, I did spurt this out at one point:
“I view many of my photographic subjects in terms of living characters: characters in danger, characters overcoming hardships, characters triumphant in the end. Without this humanistic nuance, my work has far less meaning to me.”
Which is actually very true. I do indeed view many of my subjects in terms of living characters.
I would be lying if I said that I didn’t treat my talk as if it were a job interview. I showed them a bit of my 3D graphics work, and played them some of my music, in a way that illustrated how they were components that influenced my current photographic style. All of this was very true as well. But in the end, I was not offered a position in Mickey land.
However, the talk went very well. I held their interest, and had them laughing at a few key moments. I had been preparing the talk for about three weeks, and realized as I was almost finished that I needed a much more poignant ending, an ending that left them all with something to think about, so a couple of days before the talk I wrote out the following which I read off of a piece of paper while they watched one of my fractal animations below:
“I believe that the ideas and potential of photographic composition have only begun to be explored, and that we’ve only just scratched the surface. Diving into a 3D Fractal, I find that there are an infinite number of potential compositions and that each one exists equally in terms of importance and visual impact. Why is that? I believe that the removal of humanistic qualities changes our perspective on what is acceptable and not acceptable in any given composition. We accept more compositionally in the abstract world since we aren’t as concerned with the organizational features we are used to dealing with in the humanistic world.
I believe that there are an infinite number of potentially great compositional possibilities in the field of view of any camera at any time, but to see them we must unlearn what we believe to be correct or familiar. It can be educational to see the world in terms of micro worlds, to break down what you see into smaller measures, each with equal importance. We’re used to thinking in terms of one composition being superior to another, but it can be very insightful and liberating to think in terms of everything being equal, visually or otherwise, at infinite scales, until scale becomes a parameter which allows us to be free, rather than dictates to us the implied limitations of our placement within 3D space”
It’s important to keep in mind that the way we interpret what is inside the field of view of our cameras is based on more than what we have been taught is a good photographic composition. It’s based on our current view of the world, our current moral beliefs, what drives us and what we want to communicate to others, and our fears of making mistakes. It’s based on our inner need to impress others and to impress ourselves. It’s based on pressure we receive when we’re forced to produce.
So if you take away all of that interference, what are you left with? Well, freedom for one thing. With all of that pressure absent, you’re free to think in new ways, see in new ways, feel in new ways. Instead of emotions pouring out of your mind, you can open up a new channels into your mind.
When thinking about composition, try to think about it without all of the humanistic and familiar qualities. Try thinking purely in numbers and patterns. Walk around with your mind cleared out. The goal is not to take the humanness out of photography, it’s to reassign it to a composition at a later time, but to first allow yourself to see in new ways without any interference.
A tree is no longer a tree, but a shape. A river is no longer a river but a large mass with some kind of strange movement. Buildings are not man-made, but have always been present. Think of every shape as generated by a mathematical formula within a 3D space, and realize that you can get closer to and further away from these shapes without affecting their importance or meaning. Try viewing the world through a new set of eyes that block out emotion and redefine what is both meaningful and meaningless.
So I’ll say it again:
Everything is a good photographic subject. There are no bad photographic compositions.
You may or may not agree, but just try it: Walk around for an hour or two taking photos while BELIEVING IT and see if anything new happens.
Photography is a means of recording current events and memorializing them for future generations. Photography is a means by which the egos of individuals are surfaced and multiplied. Photography is a long road to financial loss. Photography is a form of intellectual expression. Photography is a means by which the undeserving can find fame. Photography is a form of tension-release responsible for lowering the crime rate. Photography increases discouragement in individuals which increases tensions and raises the crime rate. Photography is created by the poor and collected by the rich. Photography is an outlet for those seeking to blabber on about elitist nonsense. Photography is pretty. Photography is gritty. Photography crosses borders exciting unity between opposing forces. Photography instills fear and causes death. Photography is a summation of ideas and beliefs, communicated uniquely by each individual based on their existing ideas and beliefs. Photography is a battlefield in which an individual fights for the right to speak as loudly as they like. Photography is a path, a journey, hopefully without a clear destination. Photography is just a huge lie.
I have no idea what photography is, ultimately. However, I’ve been asked to write about it here and I’ll do so even at the risk of becoming overly cerebral.
When I’m out doing photography, I usually don’t think about it much. I try not to let it worry me. I try to “zen out”, not thinking about any one thing in particular, and let the shapes in front of me dictate my actions. I try to relax. The less I know about those shapes, the better off I am. The more I know about a subject ahead of time, the less freely I interpret it. I just like to let things flow. That’s really all I can ask of myself.
If I’m lucky, the results will please me. If I’m luckier, the results will also please others, and they will not be thinking in their heads as they look at my work, “I could do that better”, or “I’ve seen that before”, or “That looks like so and so’s work”, or “This guy needs help”, or, “This guy is wasting his time”. I guess I really don’t care what others think about my work. OK, that’s not true. Yes, it is true. No, it isn’t.
I’m not big on equipment, so asking me technical questions about cameras is probably a waste of time. To me, cameras are simply data gathering devices. The light goes in and sticks itself to a chip somehow and it stays there until it is beamed to my computer and I can play with it. That’s what I personally love the most about photography, playing with the light.
Light is amazing to me, as are shapes. I tend to see everything in terms of abstract shapes, and to make matters even more complex, I tend to see almost everything symbolically. When I look at something, it almost always appears to me to be a representation of something else. This can cause me to zone out sometimes. I’m all there, I’m just busy processing. There’s so much out there that is worth processing, don’t you think?
I’m not big on “preconceived notions”. In fact I really hate them. Those bloody beliefs that we have to do things a certain way, or think about things within specific terms, or obey the intellectual laws and rules that are so often thrust upon us. I’m not saying that these laws and rules aren’t correct, and I’d even call them handy at times. I’m just saying that if we over-worship them like gold-plated zebra goddesses we’re likely to follow a path that eventually leads us to the largely populated berg of Boresville.
So, during this month of February, as I write about this thing called photography, don’t be surprised if I jump around from topic to topic, or if my emotions change from paragraph to paragraph, or if at times you think I’m a little nuts. Because really, we’re all a little nuts, we just try so hard not to show it by being overly careful. You know what I mean.
I doubt I’ll provide you with any answers here, because I don’t think I have any. I’m just not the go-to guy for answers. I prefer to ponder, zoning out as I do, and play with the musings going on in my head, and then somehow spit them out through my art. Very rarely will you find me bringing any of this up in casual conversation, being overly careful as I am.
So as an ending to this beginning, I’ll leave you with an unknown maxim that occurred to me a little over a year ago. I’m not saying it’s the truth or anything, but it occurred to me and I keep on reading it over, trying to prove it wrong but so far I haven’t had any success in doing so. I’ll place it within quotes to make it sound a little more imposing, like a preconceived notion:
“There is no true originality, there is only a mixture of two sets of laws: the laws in front of you, and the laws inside of you.
Your creativity is defined by the ways in which you mix these two sets together.”
I’m certainly looking forward to posting here 11 more times, three times a week, for the next four weeks, during this month of February, in the year 2015. Hopefully we’ll have some fun.
Printed Matter’s (2015) LA Art Book Fair
This coming weekend on the Left Coast is what is becoming an annual event; Printed Matter’s LA Art Book Fair which will take place again at the Geffen Contemporary at MOCA.
As I have written about the past (2014) LA Art Book Fairs taking place at MOCA, this building is a maze of rooms, small hidden rooms, medium size display areas and a huge room usually reserved for the Zine world. A ton of books, magazines, zines that are new and old (“collectibles”) that can overwhelm the senses. Fortunately the food trucks out the front doors can provide sustenance to help you endure. In past years there was a section reserved for photobooks up on the mezzanine, but guessing there will be spot somewhere.
Preview Thursday 29th January, 6-9pm
Friday January 30th, 12–7pm
Saturday January 31st, 11-7pm
Sunday February 1st, 11-6pm
Also nice about this event: FREE Admission!
Douglas Stockdale, Founding Editor
Photo LA – 2015
Having missed Photo LA for the last two years and growing a little disappointed with the show, I was pleasantly surprised by this year’s event. It was clean, fresh, and much easier to navigate than past shows. This year I opted to take a docent tour led by Eve Schillo, Curatorial Assistant in the Wallis Annenberg Photography Department at LACMA. Schillo added more relevancy with her running commentary on many of the artists and why they are considered “worthy” of inclusion. She elaborated on the labor over time going into creating many of the pieces, such as the eight-hour exposures of Chris McCaw and the prevalence of contemporary works using alternative processes such as tintype, cyanotype, and platinum.
Docent tour of Photo LA before the crowds arrive:
Some of my favorites were works by Jennah Ward (cameraless cyanotypes), Jacob Gils (huge composites), Rosemary Warner(montaged prints), Susan Burnstine, Nick Brandt, Jo Whaley, Mona Kuhn, Hiromu Kira, Tadao Ando, Bart Synowiec, Bruce Davidson, Eric Holubow, David Adey (raised pinned images), and Susan Turner. It was also nice to see old favorites like Dr. Dain Tasker’s x-ray photos from the 1930s and the work of the late James Fee.
Eve Schillo discussing landscapes by Photo LA honoree Catherine Opie:
Abstracts using light as a key element by Barbara Kastin:
Copyright Barbara Kastin
Cameraless cyanotypes by Jennah Ward:
Copyright Jennah Ward
Printer Amanasalto Working with Platinum:
Also exhibiting was a Japanese company, Amanasalto, that is making platinum prints from contemporary photographers as well as masters like Imogen Cunningham. They were beautiful prints but not to be confused with originals printed by the photographer.
Copyright the estate of Imogen Cunningham, print by Amanasalto
APA LA’s Off the Clock
For the first year, 100 winning photos from the American Photographic Artist’s (APA) annual contest Off The Clock were displayed at Photo LA. If you are a photographer, this is yet another reason to consider joining APA and to participate in their many events.
Photo LA Downloadable Catalog:
For more information and to see more images from the show, download Photo LA’s 128-page catalog here.
Classic Photographs Los Angeles
Entrance, Classic Photo LA
A few years ago, a number of galleries that carry primarily “classic” (black & white) photography split from Photo LA and started their own show. This year it was again held at Bonhams auction house. It was easy to spend an afternoon there and enjoy looking at the variety of Classic and Contemporary photographs including work by: Ray K. Metzker, Val Telberg, Bruce Wrighton, George Tice, Brigitte Carnochan (hand colored selenium prints), Giacomo Brunelli, Pentti Sammallahti (and his book, Here Far Away) and Sebastiao Salgado. I have eclectic tastes and was tempted by a Muybridge and a lovely Bromoil by an unknown photographer…perhaps next year.
Alex Novack, the man behind iPhotoCentral:
Several years ago I became acquainted with exhibitor Alex Novack who is the man behind iPhotoCentral, an online resource and gallery collective where buyers can search an enormous inventory of photos. It’s worth checking out whether you are a potential buyer or simply want to educate yourself on what’s available.
If you are interested in learning more about collecting, I highly recommend subscribing to Alex’s newsletter. He sends it when he can (almost monthly) and it consistently contains a wealth of information from around the world.
PhotoExchange Contributor: Nancy Albright
Photographs copyright Jeff Alu
I am very pleased to announce that Jeff Alu will be the Guest Curator for ThePhotoExchange blog for the month of February. He resides here in Orange County and in addition to his day job as a 3D Animator and Flash Developer, he is a photographer, author, curator and the Exhibition Developer at Orange County Center of Contemporary Art (OCCCA), located in Santa Ana, CA.
Zero+ Publishing released Jeff Alu: Surrealities in 2012 and Alu has had five solo photographic exhibitions, including Marks Art Center, Palm Desert, CA, Los Angeles Center for Digital Art, and Studio 343, San Pedro, CA, and has been included in over 60 group exhibitions. His photographs have been featured in 24 publications, including Adore Noir, B&W Magazine, LensWork Extended (#68), Shots and Focus magazines. As a curator Alu has five exhibitions that he has organized and developed at OCCCA. He has provided presentations at Disney Imagineering Photography Group, Glendale, CA, Marks Art Center, Palm Desert, CA and Orange County Center for Contemporary Art, Santa Ana, CA. He has a Bachelor of Music from Chapman University, (Conducting, Piano Performance, and Music Composition) and attended Eastman School of Music, Rochester NY.
Jeff states that the path that let him into photography began in his childhood, where he grew up in an artistic household. His mother was studying art and he witnessed her development through many mediums and learned at a very young age the value of experimentation by watching her in action. Large canvases on the garage floor that were splattered with paint and abstract sculptures being created out of found objects were being brought to life before his eyes. This in conjunction with a job at the Jet Propulsion Lab and Palomar Observatory a little later in life hunting for Near Earth Asteroids and comets led him to appreciate the spirit of searching for the unknown.
As to his own creations, his photography is a combination of art and science, where he combines his love for searching with his love for alternate worlds and meanings. His style hovers between documentary and a semi-dreamlike state. He is constantly searching for what he likes to call “clues.” These clues generally represent the initiation of questions that should be asked, rather than answers to pre-defined questions. He never has a set idea of what it is he’s looking for. He simply seeks, occasionally finding exactly what it is he wasn’t seeking. That’s the time he learns something new about life: when he discovers a new path, a new way of seeing, a new reason for continuing his search.
He has a very broad background in photography, digital art and gallery exhibitions and has provided a tantalizing submission as to what he hopes to accomplish during the month of February. I am extremely delighted to have Jeff take the reins and I highly recommend that you check in frequently and join the conversation!
The deadline to submit submissions as Guest Curator for March is February 18th.
Doug Stockdale, Founding Editor
Next week is a fabulous time to make a trip to Los Angeles for anyone interested in art and photography. With three huge shows listed below, one can see the work of the hottest artists, up-and-coming artists, and tried-and-true masters. There is sure to be something to impress and inspire all working artists/photographers.
LA Art Show 2015: (Historic, Modern and Contemporary Art including Photography) at the Los Angeles Convention Center: (January 14-18) http://www.laartshow.com/ Discount tickets can be purchased through Groupon.
Photo LA: (The 24th Annual International Los Angeles Photographic Art Exposition) at THE REEF/LA Mart (January 15-18) This show includes docent tours and a number of classes for photographers and collectors. http://www.photola.com/
Classic Photographs LA: Galleries and dealers of classic photography at BONHAMS (January 17 & 18). See the work of masters of photography with many pieces quite reasonably priced. http://www.classicphotographsla.com/
Guest Contributor: Nancy Albright
This is an Open Call for submissions to be the Guest Blogger/Curator of this Blog, The Photo Exchange, for a 30 day duration.
You need to provide a brief proposal, not to exceed 200 words, as to what you want to accomplish during your 30 days curating this blog.
Update: Please include your Bio/CV with your submission. This is secondary to your submission proposal but will help us with the selection process.
This is a photography blog focused on like discussions and content. Although this blog has had a strong emphasis on photographers, photography and photographic gallery events occurring in Southern California, the submissions do not need to be limited to this regional scope, although those that do will be provided preferential treatment.
The submission deadline to curate the month of February is Monday, January 27th. If you have a specific month that you prefer to be the guest blogger, please state that in your submission.
This is a non-paying gig, but then again, there is no fee to make your submission!
The blog has been in existence since 2008, viewed over 200,000 times and has 100+ pokes per day.
The content posted will need to comply with the WordPress guidelines.
So if you are looking for some exposure, want to try your hand at photo-blogging, have a photographic issue or theme you want to explore, here is your opportunity. As you may already realize that posting on a blog has a longer virtual life than the brief exposure of Twitter, Instagram and Facebook, with many of the articles posting here currently obtaining repeated reads many years after they were posted.
Let me know if you have any questions or send your submissions to me at firstname.lastname@example.org