the f-stop

Previsioning Your Vision

2007-05-04T11:48:00.000-04:00

In the Spring 2007 issue of Aperture, there is an article which consists solely of a dialogue between Stephen Shore and Luc Sante. This is an ideal format for an article because it flows more like the natural conversation between two people rather than a one-sided report of the facts, as most articles tend to be. One of the most interesting points was the concept of "mental modeling", which Shore describes as such: "There has been this idea in photography of previsioning (to use Weston's term), which is having a mental image of the picture. The image an experienced photographer has in mind, whether it be conscious or unconscious, can guide all the little decisions that go into making a picture. It becomes the coordinating factor. With "mental modeling", I'm talking about making that conscious, becoming aware of it as an image, and not simply seeing out your eyes like out a window."

I like this idea of planning a picture, while still allowing for the spontaneous moments that happen during shooting that can really bring a picture to life. A good mix of the two is probably the best approach to picture-making, in my opinion. I also study Psychobiology at another school, and we learned that in science 90% of the work is done before the experiment is ever carried out, and that the experiment is just a rote execution of the carefully crafted plan. The photographic translation of this should be a consideration for us photographers. Shore's idea of using an idea that other "makers" use to get the creative juices flowing is spot-on, I think it is always a good idea to see how other people get their ideas going and try to translate those techniques into something useful for making and planning pictures.

Cho Seung-Hui's Multimedia Manifesto

2007-04-18T23:37:00.000-04:00

Without dismissing the inexplicably tragic events that affected so many at Virginia Tech, I would like to comment upon the—as NBC anchor Brian Williams put it—“multimedia manifesto” that Virginia Tech student Cho Seung-Hui went to the post office and mailed to NBC News after the first of two horrific stages of the premeditated killings. This is important for two reasons. First, he felt that he needed to explain himself after committing a heinous crime and then taking his own life, and chose to accomplish this near-impossible task by not only including a written manifesto, but a visual one as well.

Additionally, as of today in Cho’s Wikipedia entry, the following passage appears in regard to some of the graphic plays that he wrote, which were not sent to NBC but circulated after his death: “Edward Falco, a playwriting professor at Virginia Tech, has acknowledged that Cho wrote both plays in his class. The plays are less than 12 pages long and contain several typos. Falco believed that Cho was drawn to writing, because of his considerable difficulty communicating verbally.” It is noteworthy that he appeared to have difficulties communicating verbally but still needed to express himself with different forms of language, including video and still images.

Whatever idea we may have of him from what the news reports, anecdotal evidence, and Wikipedia entries provide, we now have an even more clearly defined portrait of Cho Seung-Hui—albeit it highly packaged and constructed by the killer himself—by the inclusion of video and, more notably, very graphic still pictures. When looking at all of his manifesto together, I was affected the most by the still self-portraits, mostly pictures of Cho wielding various guns and knives in menacing and suicidal gestures. One is simply a eerie shot of meticulously arranged bullets in a grid. More can be seen here.

One would think that video and text would suffice to explain whatever demons drove him to his awful deed, but this assumption leads to the second point of significance: the subtle differences and similarities between still pictures and video. I’ve been thinking lately about how lucky we are as photographers to deal with one frame at a time, as opposed to the range of frames per second that cinematographers deal with.

But it is precisely this working environment that forces us to slow down and make one good frame as opposed to having the flexibility (or burden, depending on how you approach this) of creating and explaining ourselves and our observations within many thousands of frames. This discussion could go on for pages, so I’ll cut it short here. However, the inclusion of specific still images with threatening gestures in Cho’s manifesto lends credence to the power of one small frame of time to convey a highly nuanced idea, and to study just a few of Cho’s still pictures is—for me—more haunting than seeing any amount of the videos he sent out into the world on his last day. How still and final his eyes are in those photos, how squarely they make contact with the lens as opposed to how downcast and avoidant they are in his videos speaks to the transmissive and concrete power that the photograph still holds, and how it continues to function as a form of language, however fragmented and difficult to translate it remains.

Buzz Words

2007-04-16T00:42:00.000-04:00

I’ve been having an ongoing dialogue/running joke with one of my professors, David Hilliard, about the certain ‘big words’ and buzzwords that people tend to use when talking about art. When I hear a good word, I write it down in an ever-growing list at the back of my notebook.

Sometimes people can use these words effectively to convey a complicated idea and delineate the genesis of the idea that eventually led to the photograph, and sometimes these words are just tossed about for pretentious effect. Like most things, a lot of it is about the context and audience and whether or not the words make sense and convey a cohesive thought to your average viewer. This same concept can be applied to analyzing the photograph itself: to which type of viewer will this photo speak the most clearly? Will your average viewer ‘get’ it? What role must the photo play—should it be understand by your average, random viewer? Does it matter how highly specialized (or not) it is? In his eight rules for writing fiction, Kurt Vonnegut's #1 is: Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.

Some of my favorite words that David uses are action verbs: inform, reference, challenge. They are words that analyze the bones and structure of a photograph rather than tossing around weak, dictionary-inducing words that are more likely to alienate than enlighten your audience.

All of this ties into the concept that photography can be (and is) a certain language and can be approached as such. What I like about David's work is how he uses the language of photography to speak in complete sentences across multiple frames. Each frame can be considered a clause of a sentence, and is essential to the final comprehension of the essence of the sentence.

One of my favorite authors, Hunter S. Thompson, a producer of many prolific bodies of work, would often type out entire novels of authors he admired in order to analyze their sentence structure and flow. He also knew that finding precisely the right word for the right situation was paramount and a supreme achievement. The photographic translation of both of these concepts should be a consideration of all serious students of the lens.

Rough Beauty

2007-04-14T21:12:00.000-04:00

Rough Beauty was a project begun in 2003 and published in 2006. Simply stated Rough Beauty is meant to be a photographic documentation of Vidor, Texas.

In my humble opinion, this collection of Dave Anderson’s work is not ground breaking, or earth shattering. This is the kind of work that should have and probably would have disappeared into oblivion if not for all the controversial racial underpinnings. I’m not saying that it’s bad work – it’s not bad, it’s just not new. I suppose one could beg the question ‘Does originality exist?’ Personally, I believe originality does exist and significant work should contain a degree of originality. Rough Beauty is an emulation of Keith Carter and Diane Arbus – and while emulation is acceptable for a student, I feel there comes a time when a professional photographer should make their own mark.

Vidor is only a short distance from where I live. Controversy has surrounded this body of work since its release. I have found the issues raised by the work far more interesting than the work itself. That said, however, not every issue is interesting. Take the issue of racism, for instance…. Yes, this area has had a history of racism, but there have been issues of racism in every part of this country. I raise the question: why Southeast Texas? I really don’t make a connection between the work and the issues of racism anyway. His subject matter doesn’t directly address racism – he chose not to photograph the Ku Klux Klan, so I feel the issue is actually a lack of diverse ethnicity.

I find the ethical dilemmas raised by this work to be the most fascinating issues. He included statements made by the people he photographed. Quotes such as “I was born down thataway ‘bout a mile in a little log cabin. My dad built it with crosscut saws and they put mud in the cracks.” or “We threw grass on the chicken’s grave and were like ‘Why’d he have to die?’” or “I been having to look for a job for a long time.” illuminate the lives of his subjects. My concern here is Anderson has comprised one version of the truth: this is one aspect of Vidor, but this isn’t all of Vidor. This work may be construed for representing a complete depiction of Vidor. In my opinion, Rough Beauty is a very narrow glimpse of an area that deserves more depth and less media hype.

Visit the Rough Beauty webpage...

Eyes and Brains

2007-04-12T22:35:00.000-04:00

The principal thing that makes a good photographer is a very basic tool: a set of quick, instinctive eyes.
One of my professors quipped that our eyes have instincts that our brains don't know about yet. It's witty to say something bold like "We see with our eyes and photograph with our brains" or vice versa, but the truth of it is that it's all convoluted and meticulously intertwined. The modern human eye started out as just a collection of photoreceptors at the end of a bundle of nerve fibers. In many ways, our eyes literally and metaphorically are extensions and refinements of our brains.

Parallels can also be drawn between the lenses of our eyes and the lenses of our cameras, and the different recording mechanisms of film and the brain. Our brains can be likened to semi-permanent sheets of film, but in order to transfer our own thoughts and vision into memes and units of thought that can be transmitted between brains and minds, we must either struggle with the crude tools of language or create a picture that pulls all of the crap out of our brains and deposits it in the secure safe deposit box of film.

David Levinthal

2007-04-11T22:55:00.000-04:00

Some information on a popular contemporary photographer...

David Levinthal was born in San Francisco in 1949. Levinthal received his B.A. in Studio Art from Stanford University in 1970. He went on to earn a Masters of Fine Arts in Photography from Yale University in 1973 and in 1981 he received a S.M. of Management Science from MIT. He currently lives and works in New York.

He has participated in numerous group and solo exhibitions over the years. The most recent solo exhibitions in Texas took place in 2006. Gerald Peters Gallery in Dallas hosted “David Levinthal” and The Menil Collection in Houston hosted “Blackface”. His work has become a part of many public collections both nationally and internationally. Three public collections in Texas include Levinthal’s work: Amon Carter Museum of Fort Worth, Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, and Museum of Fine Arts of Houston.

Levinthal does not limit himself to creating work only for art’s sake, he also creates commercial pieces. He has photographed for Absolute Vodka, and IBM. He has also collaborated for magazine spreads such as Entertainment Weekly and Wired Magazine.

David Levinthal has had 10 books published, the most recent being Netsuke.

As a child, Levinthal was completely comfortable with the ability to transform his physical environment by any means necessary. This compulsion to alter his environment translates into his method of photographing miniature worlds, which he has created. He creates these worlds by utilizing doll houses and accessories. The figurines he uses are ordered from a company in Germany that specializes in train sets.

Formally, Levinthal’s first concern is the manipulation of space, secondly light. Levinthal treats color as a means to an end. Color only heightens the theatrical sense of drama achieved by the manipulation of light.

Technically, Levinthal uses a 20 x 24 Polaroid camera. I was unable to find any documentation to verify specifically how Levinthal creates his editions. However, a Polaroid camera (complete with an operator) is available for rental. One cost effective method to create editions from a Polaroid would be to create one 20 x 24 Polaroid print, have it scanned and printed as a lambda or light jet print.

Conceptually, Levinthal uses issues that he addresses in his personal life. He is Jewish, so creating a series addressing the Holocaust is one way of exploring his heritage. He has explored cultures different from his own in his series “Blackface” and “Netsuke”. Levinthal addresses American ideals in “Baseball” and “Barbie”. Voyeurism is a conceptual element that consistently reappears. Voyeurism can be found in the series “Modern Romance”, ”American Beauties”, “Desire”, “XXX”, and “Netsuke”. Nostalgia is another popular element in his work. The figurines are in and of themselves a nostalgic component considering the fact the figurines are basically children’s toys. Nostalgic subject matter is found in his series “Wild West”, “Barbie”, and “Baseball”. One might even say “Blackface” and “American Beauties” have a nostalgic ambiance.

Check out his web page: David Levinthal

Photographic Sustenance

2007-03-23T00:16:00.000-04:00

The image to the right is Etienne-Jules Marey's "photographic gun". When Eadweard Muybridge showed his pictures of horses in motion to Marey, Marey asked him if it was possible to photograph birds in flight. Muybridge answered that he hadn't been able to so far, and Marey responded by inventing his photographic gun. The "gun" had a rifle-like sight and a clock-mechanism so that when the shutter was tripped it made twelve exposures of 1/72nd of a second each. This gun is a good metaphor for how we use our cameras.

At our cores, photographers are both hunters and gatherers—we need variety in our photographic diets. We hunt around, sniffing out the good light and proper gestures—then shoot to kill. But we are also gatherers, the subtler, more patient accumulators than those quick-triggered hunters. The low-level, always-on hum of our photographic radars is the essential gatherer's tool—a constant frequency, a SETI of the eyes.

While it has been my observation that art photography is more about presenting the collected (hunting) while photojournalism is more about collecting the presented (gathering), this may be an overly simplistic reduction; I do not mean to imply that art photographers only hunt and photojournalists only gather. Such a statement would be ignoring some of the best photography out there, as some of my favorite photographers possess the distinct ability to marry the two.

Stephen Gill - Flower Photographs, Kind of

2007-03-20T12:27:00.000-04:00

British artist Stephen Gill is working with/on/around the photograph. Gill is using images from Hackney and then uses different flowers found in Hackney to create a kind of new, fictional landscape. He then re-photographs the final product and returns the physical disruption to the good old fashion, flat photograph. His pictures of Hackney Flowers have an interesting mix of whimsy and the subversive and are a unique way to also speak about Hackney as place itself. Stephen never lets a photograph get away with just being a photograph.

On a side note, another series of works of Stephen's was referenced in the blog I Heart PHotograph which is a blog i check frequently. It consistenly shows fresh, interesting and definately unique photographic work from around the world. Laurel, i like your style.

Dashwood Books

2007-03-16T20:19:00.000-04:00

It is of little surprise to me that the majority of photographers I am aware of has much to do with the exceptional relationship between photography and books. I often find, although not always, that the presentation of artwork in books is sometimes stronger and more effective than a series sequenced on a gallery or museum wall. Everyone can attest not only to the invaluable privacy provided by books, but also to their endless inventiveness in presenting artists and promoting their projects.
Recently, on a relatively cold weekend spent in Manhattan, my girlfriend and i stumbled upon a warm, wooden enclave of monographs at 33 Bond Street. Dashwood Books, situated in the East Village, inevitably casts shame upon all other like-minded shops that proclaim to have an eclectic and substantial inventory. Although Robert Frank's "The Americans" can be found, it will most likely be situated between some obscure saddlestiched collectible, and a brilliant Japanese hardcover. Both of which will blow your socks off. After some time spent browsing the shelves, you'll notice that the titles you don't know far outnumber the ones that you do.
Hopefully, any visitors to this wonderful basement shop will find themselves inspired by their supporting of artists big and small, as well as the realization that there exists in the world a wealth of photographers making remarkable work.

Checkout:
www.dashwoodbooks.com

Photographic Time-Travelling

2007-03-04T15:21:00.000-05:00

Lately, I’ve been considering and working with the concept and nature of time. I have a few different kinds of clocks scattered around my living space and love hearing the older mechanical one spin around, the sweeping second hand allowing for an audible representation of the dissolution of time. It reminds me of how photography and motion pictures are the closest we have come to time-travel. As photographers, we deal in time and the many divisions and fractions that we create of it. We broker out miniscule fractions of seconds and their larger, looming minutes. 1/125, 4s, 1/8000---these are all familiar numbers to us. Of course, the same could be argued for almost any other genre of art or other collection of empirical evidence such as sculpture, literature, etc.

Yet in photography, the creator's hand exerts much less of an influence than, say, the writer's hand. Photography literally and figuratively takes a slice of time and imprints it permanently on a fixed record. Even in the most highly orchestrated tableaux, a picture is still a literal, light-based translation of that particular scene. Even the most well-written, richly illustrative story is still much more highly subjective than a simple light-etched photograph.

In addition to being time studies, photography and motion pictures are also studies of concentrated, purposeful details---be they assembled by the photographer or simply captured. In my abnormal psychology class, we were watching the film "A Beautiful Mind" and I started to notice all of the nuanced details and time-hints that make up the background in many of the scenes and how these manage to effectively frame the film within a specific time period even if the viewer doesn't know that it took place in the middle of the 20th century.

These detail studies are also closely related to time-travel in that they allow us to experience a different era in time simply by planting visual cues and creating the associations within our minds between objects and time periods. Photographs are firstly visual objects, but the more we study and think about them, the more apparent it becomes that they can function as microcosms and catalysts for the larger themes in our lives.

Photo Echo

2007-03-01T00:00:00.000-05:00

Photo Echo
Aperture Magazine

“Do you have an idea for Photo Echo? If so we’d love to hear about it” reads page 88 of the current issue of Aperture Magazine. I regret to inform you that originally I passed right by, and if it hadn’t been for the combination of Julia Roberts and George Clooney, I wouldn’t have given Photo Echo so much as a second glance. The unfortunate truth about advertisements is they too often get overlooked, especially when placed toward the back of the magazine.

As a senior in the art department at Lamar University, professors here are supportive and constantly encourage students to enter competitions. As both a student and an artist, I am always looking for ways to be involved in the art community.

Photo Echo is a competition sponsored by Aperture to gain readers and support. The prize of this competition is a free one year subscription to Aperture. (Students love “free”!) From a graphic design viewpoint, Aperture is utilizing this strategy to gain readers and support, I don’t feel the annoying pressure experienced when bombarded by internet pop-up ads for magazine subscriptions. Actually, quite the opposite occurs, my interest has been piqued.

Photo Echo is a comparison of one historical photograph with one contemporary photograph. Not only does this approach benefit Aperture but it also promotes awareness of Art History and familiarity with Contemporary Art, thereby, benefiting the readers as well.

That said, I am interested in submitting to this competition, however, I am confused. How often is this feature published? I noticed in Aperture Magazine, Issue no. 185 that Photo Echo was not included. What is the deadline? Also in the current Aperture, Issue no. 186, the published comparison is of both a book and a magazine cover: What are the criteria? Obviously submissions should be mailed, but I am unclear as to exactly what should be included (tear sheets, jpegs, tiffs). I have searched online to no avail for more detailed information. If there is more information online this should be stated with the address information in the excerpt.

This is a wonderful idea, and I might add a lovely layout, however I would like to participate but remain confused.

Fanny Pack Not Included

2007-02-21T14:52:00.000-05:00

While sitting through a recent lecture, a fellow photography student made it clear that school is where we begin to set ourselves apart from the average tourist armed with a point&shoot. Even though this statement has some sense of validity, what I find infinitely more interesting, however, is L.A. based photographer Mark McKnight's suggestion that all photographers are essentialy tourists.
Tourism is arguably more complex than just travel for recreation. How far does one have to travel exactly? And is it still considered recreation if you're not having a good time? A more important question looms though; if tourist photos are simply trophies of things seen, or proof of one standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon, is that any different than Richard Misrach making sure the world knows that bombs are being dropped in the middle of the desert? Perhaps there is no difference, and an artist like Hiroshi Sugimoto sees a monument in the ocean, just like my Grandma would if she peered up at the faces on Mt. Rushmore.
It seems that what Mark McKnight implies has little to do with the "snapshot" vernacular attributed to say, a tourist and William Eggleston. His assertion, as I understand it, has much more to do with ideas of observation, evaluation, experience, and judgement, which is of course, the root of why any photographer would want to photograph, and why any tourist would want to travel. So with that said, perhaps Mark McKnight is right, and not only are all photographers tourists, but in many ways, maybe that's all we are.

You can see more of Mark McKnight's work on his Blog at markmcknight.wordpress.com

The Sleeping Bag Effect

2007-02-21T09:58:00.000-05:00

The best part of a well-executed photograph is that you initially don’t notice the technical aspects and can fully immerse yourself in the graces and nuances present within the work. I was looking around in a magazine and checked the photo credit for an amazingly well-balanced picture of Helen Mirren. The photographer was Dan Winters, so I found his website and looked around. His work— along with being technically flawless and succinct in execution—is creative and organic. The pictures do not rely upon the sugar high of flashy lighting and colors to make their points, and his palette is muted yet bright in the proper places.

While many of his portraits utilize what Nick Nixon calls the ‘sleeping bag’ effect—when a person placed in the center of a vertical frame is surrounded on three sides by little other than a nondescript background—in Winters’ work it is effective, for each photo has a different aspect to the sleeping bag part of the picture. The first picture under the Portraits category is a simple side headshot of Natalie Portman, her face lit softly and evenly. The sleeping bag part starts off at the bottom as a clean white background and seeps up through a gradient, fading into a green/gray at the top.

In addition to simply effective portraits, Winters also produces whimsical photo illustrations for magazines. His ‘Illustrations For A Story On The Commercialization Of Wilderness Areas’, Outside Magazine, contains elements such as a single green leaf sealed in a retro-looking package, complete with a snappy 1960s font and text (‘LEAF: From a Real Tree?’) and a graphic red and white outline of the US, with a similar font reading ‘All-American’.

Both of these pictures combine technical excellence with a talent for noticing, linking, and delineating the connections between people, places, things, and ideas—a skill which all good photographers possess. By putting the thought into his pictures beforehand, scrutinizing all of the picky details and constructing everything within his frame just so, Winters allows us to forget about the technical details and focus only on the irony of a plastic-encased leaf or the curious intersection of Portman’s downward glance combined with a light to dark fade running in the opposite direction of her glance.

http://www.danwinters.com

Painting on Pictures

2007-02-19T14:55:00.000-05:00

The idea of painting on a photograph is not new. It has been going on since photography's inception. Although, early uses were more apt at removing or adding details that would allow the photograph to tell a deeper truth instead of a more conceptual aim. What does painting or drawing on a photograph offer? Can this combination successfully question and expand the ideas behind the photographic process and function?

Gerhard Richter's abstract interventions into banal 4x6" snapshot landscapes are very crude and simple compared to his larger and better known paintings which deconstruct the photographic institution, but are able to offer abstraction a fresh utility.

Another artist who imaginatively and overtly talks about painting and photography is Marc Luders. I am especially drawn to his early works where the paint becomes like a UFO discretely entering into the photographic spaces.

The artist Sebastiaan Bremer uses much more illustrative approach by applying precise points of ink to large photographs. The lightness of conceptual intervention here is made up for through shear visual intrigue at how Bremer as enlivened a seemingly irrelevant photograph.

Photography and painting are two heavyweights in today's art discourse. Using them together, literally, can start to challenge the convictions and readings of both.

Michael Levin: Reveal

2007-02-15T17:14:00.000-05:00

Reveal

Michael Levin

Watermark Gallery

Between December 2, 2006 and January 31, 2007 twenty-two of Michael Levin’s photographs hung in Watermark Gallery located in Houston. As you walked into the gallery, the photographs were hung on the wall to your immediate right. They lined the right side of the gallery as well as a portion of the back wall. The sizes of these large black and white prints ranged from 6” x 18” to 34” x 34”. Levin focuses on landscape photography, primarily using a large format film camera. Separating himself from traditional methods, he then scans the film and edits the image in Photoshop. Levin has these files printed digitally on color paper, rather than on fiber-based silver gelatin paper.

By his own admission, Michael Levin seeks to achieve a painterly quality in his photographs. He concentrates on the intrusions into nature (i.e. piers, docks, levies), and creates images in which the intrusions appear not only natural, but also beautiful. Levin’s work shares many similarities with that of the popular landscape photographer, Michael Kenna.

The quintessence elements in the majority of his compositions are sky and/or water. Utilizing exposures lasting up to twenty minutes, Levin transforms water into clouds and in doing so breaks down a seemingly picturesque landscape to create a paradisiacal image. In his photographs, the natural elements overpower the man-made. He has succeeded in transforming the man-made intrusions from an inappropriate eyesore into a graceful tableaux appearing as seamless and natural as nature itself. He has captured a quiet solitude, an effect that I would describe as peaceful.

Tending to facilitate transcendence, these photographs become Romantic in nature. For instance, Steel Pier, 2005 is an image created underneath a pier, but this viewer interpreted the image as an interior room with a long hallway. The critic Marjorie Perloff, in her essay “What Has Occurred Only Once”, views the punctum (the emotional impact experienced when looking at a photograph) as achieved when the viewer is able to turn the object back into a subject. The pier is the object in Steel Pier, 2005 but by giving the pier a different orientation, viewing the underside, he turns the pier into the subject and in doing so Levin epitomizes transcendence and achieves his painterly aspiration.

To view more of Michael Levin's work visit his website: Michael Levin

The Photographic Interview

2007-02-10T11:29:00.000-05:00

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about communication, the transmission of ideas, and how photography is as important a language to me as the English one I write and speak. Often I see a photograph and can almost immediately realize and understand what I suspect the photographer was thinking and feeling about the situation but cannot translate it into words without a thesaurus and a great deal of time. Perhaps my English skills are deficient, or I simply lack the proper depth and breadth of vocabulary to describe what I'm seeing. Language and words fascinate me, but they pale in comparison to my appreciation of and ability to communicate photographically. It’s simply a matter of differing proficiencies. I struggle to translate the same sort of instantaneous comprehension I have of the photograph to the written word.

I was looking at Polly Chandler's work recently (pollychandler.com) and came across an interview with her where the questions are posed in word form and the responses are only pictures. It is a wonderfully synesthetic idea, and is an easy way to begin to think about the intersections of the written and visual languages.

http://scenemissingmagazine.com/index.php/archives/144

Self Portrait as an Artist

2007-02-09T20:48:00.000-05:00

Chicago based photographer, Jason Lazarus, has found a new and contemporary way to breathe life into the genre of self-portraiture. Jason's series titled, "Self Portrait as an Artist" began as a comment on the ambiguous role of the contemporary artist today but has since grown in to a diverse body of work that extends beyond the art world and into the personal, the political and the culturally engaged.

The series of images strays wonderfully outside of the rules of the standard photographic project. Like much of Tim Davis' work, the idea and concern is the only constant, as the visual style, the size, and the function of each piece has a playful and refreshing sense of variety.

Jason combines the power of a well executed photograph with titles that are full of wit and intelligence to create a series of complex images. The personal and the political have an intersect in images like Lazarus' "Standing Under the Same Moon as Barack Obama".

Like all successful work, there is a clear presence of personality and intention attached to each image. Jason shares with us, his highly visual way of connecting to and understanding himself in terms of what is going on today. In turn we are encouraged to look, to question and to actually think about our contemporary climate through personal introspection and curiosity.

"Self Portrait as an Artist" combines the power of idiosyncratic thought, cultural engagement and diverse image making stratagem to create a body of work that challenges and extends both the viewer and the medium of photography today.

Jason's work is currently on view at The Gahlberg Gallery at College of DuPage in an exhibition titled, On Death and Dying: Photographs from the Collection of the Museum of Contemporary Photography, Chicago. January 25 to March 3, 2007. Other artists in the exhibition include: Harold Allen, Sophie Calle Catherine Chalmers, Barbara McDonnell, Vik Muniz, Esther Parada, Irving Penn, Gilles Peress, Michal Rovner, Mark Ruwedel, Alec Soth, Dennis Stuck, Stephen Tourlentes, and Brian Ulrich.

A Century in Pictures

2007-01-30T20:32:00.000-05:00

The Target Collection of American Photography: A Century in Pictures Celebrates 30^th Anniversary of Target Corporation’s First Gift

Museum of Fine Art, Houston

As an art student, all my art history courses have shared a similar format: sit down in a large lecture hall, lights are dimmed while we watch slide after slide, narrated by the professor’s voice reciting details we are expected to memorize. Lucky for us students, most professors are aware of a disconnect in the experience described. They warn us about the disconnect: ‘These slides don’t even compare to the real thing.” My reaction has become “Yeah, yeah – I know!” Whenever we, as art enthusiasts, go to an exhibition we are looking for something; I look to validate that statement which has become cliché. My favorite art history course is The History of Photography, which is why I chose to review “A Century in Pictures”, now on display at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston until Feb. 25^th.

“A Century in Pictures” traces the changes in photography from the beginning thru the late 20^th century. This show recognizes noted masters such as Alfred Stieglitz and Edward Weston, who helped established photography as one of the most potent mediums for artistic expression. This exhibit is displayed in a single room. Most of the photographs are hung on walls with some of the work encased on pedestals throughout the room. To view the show chronologically, turn left after entering; please note this show is not strictly a chronological survey.

A written descriptive blurb about Camera Work, Stieglitz’s influential journal, as well as his photographs The Steerage, Georgia O’Keefe, Hand of Man, and The Pool Deal are compelling reminders of the underpinnings of Modernism. Clarence White’s Drops of Rain, Edward Weston’s Epilogue and Two Shells, and Imogen Cunningham’s Magnolia Bud all signify ‘A Modern Impulse’. Sections of the exhibit with titles such as ‘Landscape and the Built Environment’ are exemplified thru work by Catherine Wagner and Joel Sternfield. Harry Callahan’s Telephone Wires and Ray K. Metzker’s Spruce Street Boogie illustrate ‘A New Aesthetic’. ‘Portraiture’ is represented in a series by Richard Avedon of his father. The portraits of Avedon’s father are unlike the portraits of drifters or mine workers found in his book American West; there are consistencies among the studies of these subjects. However, the portraits of his father contain a measure of familiarity and momentous consequence not found in the American West work. Lastly a nod to post-modernism with the section ‘A Critique of Representation’ is shown with the use of “Mona Lisa Problematics of Intensity Theory 1 & 2” by Suzanne Bloom and Ed Hill better known as Manual and also “Space/Time Metamorphosis #1” by the late Robert Heinechen.

A few fun facts about American business and the organization that made this experience a possibility. George D. Dayton founder of the Dayton Company established the practice of giving 5% of pre-tax profits to good causes in 1946. The Dayton Company opened its first Target store in 1962 and today operates about 1,500 stores. In 2000, the company was renamed the Target Corporation. The Target Corporation gives back $2 million each week to education, art, and social services. Target has partnerships with designers such as Michael Graves and Isaac Mizrahi to ensure aesthetically pleasing quality products. It’s no surprise that a company that puts so much importance on good design would also support the art community. Target sponsors events such as Target Free Friday Nights at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. Their support isn’t confined to New York…through Target Store Grants funding is provided for programs across the United States that make art accessible to the public creating a cultural experience. The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston is one such recipient of the Target Store Grants, which helped establish the photography department in 1976. Since then, Target has provided funding for eight previous exhibitions. A Century in Pictures Exhibition is the ninth MFAH exhibition to show works from the Target Collection and will travel to the Austin Museum of Art and the Art Museum of South Texas in Corpus Christi. The Target collection at MFAH includes about 420 photographs.

Because Target supports artists, I maintain that artists might want to support Target and, as a side note, Wal-Mart doesn’t give to art!

Welcome!

2007-01-17T12:27:00.000-05:00

Welcome to Aperture's new extern blog. Here you will find students from around the country discussing photography in all its forms.