The Image: Yoav Horesh, "30 Minutes Over Europe"

© Yoav Horesh, 30 Minutes Over Europe, 2008

Yoav Horesh: In the summer of 2008, I followed my girlfriend of two years to Europe to try living and working in Germany. The decision came after six months in a cross-continent long-distance relationship. But there was more. After three years of teaching photography non-stop across three states on a weekly basis, I was exhausted. My hectic schedule meant I was neglecting my own photographic work. I needed time away from New York and teaching.

By the winter of the same year, I found myself with suitcases and camera equipment in Berlin, searching for explanations and ideas about what to do for three more months in Europe. I decided what was called for was a European adventure, to explore and understand my new reality through my photographic work.

Transitional spaces fascinate me. I have made photographs across the world concerned with the social and psychological impact of trauma on the landscape and how photography deals with it. My photographs show the physical and emotional evidence of trauma and memory on history, society and place.

When setting out to explore Europe and my inner workings, these same ideas were buried somewhere in the back of my head, and my new project and journey started with them. During this journey I experienced unbelievable hospitality from friends and family who hosted me in their homes, supported and encouraged me. I am also lucky to have a brother in the import / export business that helped me get access to a massive cargo airplane.

I photographed there while flying thousands of miles over Europe during the magical hours between day and night. During the entire 5 hour flight, I was making photographs that expressed and explored the idea of transition, both physically and emotionally, across countries and borders.

Setting up a large view camera and photographing the entrance to the airplane’s cockpit at 600 mp/h was a challenge like none I had ever attempted before. Producing clarity and a sharp photograph after thirty minutes with an open shutter during flight, was something I had not imagined possible.

Six months later, I realized that the work I created in Belgium, Spain, Gibraltar, England, Germany and Israel would come together as a body of work titled Intransition.

In photography, as in life, when we embrace the unexpected and surprising we are given the confidence that our vision and emotions can be communicated and then transcended.

91: Elisabetta Cociani

Elisabetta Cociani
Eldar, from the series "Svetlana"
Svetlana's grandson watching TV
June 2011

Series Statement: Svetlana is a Russian woman who came to Italy nine years ago to work and give her dear ones a better future. It has been a difficult decision: she had to leave her family and a good job at the ministry, yet her income wasn’t enough. She was born in Kazakistan and at 18 moved to Adighezia Republic, her father’s land.

I met Svetlana, in 2009 in Ferrara, the Italian town she lives in and considers home. She works as a caregiver and she is the president of “Nadiya Caregivers Association”.

In June 2011 I went with her to Majkop, her former home. I met family and friends, I went to the village where her father lived and the places she’d been working in, and where everybody misses and loves her.

I don’t think she will ever go back, she loves Italy, she loves cycling around Ferrara streets and now that her son Vitali joined her there, she has a reason more to stay.

International Site Profiles: reminders - I WAS THERE

We're following that post with a series of short profiles that will collectively provide a starting point for an exploration of international blogs, online magazines, and pages. We began by looking at Kilele, We Take Pictures Too, Arab Image Foundation, Greater Middle East Photo, Space Cadet, Street Level Japan, Kantor Berita MES 56, Japan Exposures, Invisible Photographer Asia, my new notebook, oitzarisme, La Fototeca, ZoneZero, and Panoramica Galerie.

Today we continue with a look at Japan-based reminders: I WAS THERE.

THE BASICS
Site: reminders: I WAS THERE
Founding Publishers: Yumi Goto, Masaru Goto, and Kosuke Okahara
Location: Japan
Recommended sample post: I WAS THERE #73 DAICHI KODA
Frequency of posts: Low, 2-4 per month
Founded: February 2010
Last updated: January 2012
In a sentence: The site presents single images accompanied by the story of the "behind the lens" experience of making the image.

reminders: I WAS THERE aims to present images that the photographer has a particular personal connection with, giving a textual account of the experience of making the photograph in both Japanese and English. It's a formula used on other sites, including here on fototazo as "The Image" and on Flak Photo as "Flak Photo Stories," but on reminders: I WAS THERE the emphasis is on Japanese photographers in particular and serves as an entryway into contemporary work by young Japanese photographers.

The site sidebar also lists various workshops and other upcoming events in Japan.

90: Justin Fiset

Justin Fiset
Untitled (#0197), from the series "WLA"
2011

Series Statement: This project grew organically out of regular outings photographing near my home in West Los Angeles and eventually the greater Los Angeles area. I discovered that I was most interested in images that had been made in alleys or similar spaces. As I focused on these places I came to understand that they occupy a unique gap between public and private, deliberate and accidental; that their use or meaning changes in relation to who moves through them; that while they are places in a physical sense they are conceptually non-places, without names, left off of maps, etc. This in-between status, or liminal state is a concept widely found in myth and ritual, referring to moments, rites and places that are simultaneously loaded with potential and neutral. The threshold could either be a moment of transformation or one of stasis, as in purgatory, and gives such spaces a neutrality upon which I find their visual qualities are amplified. "WLA" is an investigation of the fleeting, lyrical capacity of latent spaces, a catalog of the unanticipated interactions and harmonies that materialize in these spaces and the human urge to find meaning within them.

The Blake Andrews Interview Contest Prize

In Part II of our three part interview with Blake Andrews, we invited him to create a contest, the results to be published both here and on his blog B.

Please take a few minutes and take part by clicking here!

The person who predicts the favorites of all participants most accurately is the winner of the contest. So what do you win?

Blake has dramatically upped the stakes of the contest with this prize offer: he will fly to the city or town of residence of the winner within the next year, photograph the surroundings, and then give the winner a print from the trip.

If the winner happens to reside outside the continental 48 states, the winner will receive a 2012 Cadillac Escalade* with a full slate of options including 5-year / 100,000 mile warranty. (*Prize may be substituted with an item of equal or lesser value to be determined.)

The Image: Simon Crofts

© Simon Crofts, untitled, 2012

Simon Crofts: This is an image from my "In the Land of Endless Expectation" series about Ukraine, Belarus and Russia – the Slav heartlands of the former Soviet Union. Larissa is a former communications engineer living in Ukraine, who now finds work when and where she can as a patent agent. She is a kind of representative of that large class of intelligentsia, for which the former Soviet Union is so famous (the word itself comes from Russian). She is also my ex-mother-in-law, but we maintained a good friendship. Which may seem odd, but one of the things that draws me to the place is that things that seem odd elsewhere seem normal there.

One thing that struck me as a common thread in Russian / Ukrainian history - whether it was standing in queues in Soviet times, or in literature, or just waiting for life to improve in modern capitalist times, was this sense of expectation, of waiting, of endless patience. Larissa was a perfect example of that. The poet Yevtushenko wrote about the endurance of Russian women in a poem "In the Store," which was put to music by Shostakovitch in his 13th symphony. Listening to that symphony, and pretty much everything else Shostakovitch wrote, was one of the reasons why I moved to Russia in the first place, back in 1993.

I wanted to provide this intimate, personal view of Ukraine and Russia. A foreigner looks at the place as an outsider, and often understands little. Russians often think that foreigners simply can't understand them - that you have to be Russian to get it. Churchill famously summed it up with his description of Russia as "a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma."

But having devoted so much of my life to the place one way or another - I lived in Russia during the wild nineties throughout the most painful and exciting period of economic transformation, I taught myself to speak Russian, and generally obsessed with the place ever since I heard Shostakovitch as a kid - I thought that I saw the country neither as a Russian, nor as a Ukrainian, nor as a foreigner, but with my own point of view. Sometimes I thought I could understand or see things about the place that even a local couldn't – either because they were too close to it, or it had crept up on them gradually, or simply because my experience was different from theirs. And I knew that I had to show what I saw, so the result was these pictures, which did not have a strict agenda or message, but which recorded what I felt was personally important, whether it was a chance meeting with a total stranger, or someone I knew well like Larissa.

Interview: Blake Andrews, Part III

© Blake Andrews, Paris, 2010

This is the third of three interview posts with Blake Andrews. Part I can be found here and Part II here. We have a contest connected with this interview that you can take part in by clicking here.

f: The most personally important of your two major influences:

a. Garry Winogrand
b. Lee Friedlander
c. Both

BA: C. Winogrand and Friedlander are definitely two of my favorites, and my style probably reflects elements of both. Winogrand said that every photo is a battle of form vs. content, and I think that's a good lens through which to compare them. Generally Winogrand was more concerned with content and Friedlander with form. That may be an oversimplification but I think there's some truth to it. I think what binds them together, and what connects them to my photography, is that they are / were both very concerned with the photograph as the primary tool of expression. That's in contrast to the current style. Many photographers now put the photograph in a secondary role. It's at the service of some idea. It's an illustrative tool. But for Winogrand and Friedlander, and for me, the photo comes first. You don't know what the idea is until you see the photo. So the photo becomes the way to explore the world, not just the end product of that exploration.

I also empathize with both men because of their work habits. Both were / are absolutely committed to making photos regardless of outside events. Winogrand in particular. I think he photographed as much out of blind compulsion as anything. He just did it because that's what he did, and he felt better afterward, like eating. Or maybe taking a big dump is a better analogy. A huge 20,000 roll steaming dump that someone is going to have to deal with. Because it's fucking important.

© Blake Andrews, Cinemagic Theatre, Portland, 2009

f: You work with humor a lot more (and a lot better) than most photographers that I can think of, and it’s something I have always thought difficult to pull off in photography. Who else do you think works well with humor?

BA: [Elliott] Erwitt is probably the name that pops into everyone's mind first. He is a master of a certain humorous style. In that same vein, some of Kertesz, Doisneau, and Weegee have a humorous edge. More recently there's Kalvar, Mermelstein, and Parr. Those are sort of the platinum humor collection. In the younger crop I like Gordon Stettinius, Michael Northrup, Asger Carlsen, the iN-PUBLiC crew. Some of Chris Verene's photos are funny, especially with his captions. Many of the relatively new reappropriations are great. Champion Pig, Awkward Family Photos, Useful Photography, and stuff in that vein. There's one Tumblr that replaces hands with smaller versions. I mean WTF? That's funny. Sultan and Mandel's Evidence is probably the funniest photo book I own, but it's more absurdist.

I think most photographers steer clear of humor because it's confused with light material. But humor needn't be light. My favorite humor is absurdist, zen koan style. Philosophically that's as deep as it gets. Camus, Sartre, the existentialists, they all bumped their heads against absurdism. Humor doesn't have to be Three Stooges slapstick. Recently I've been enjoying the older episodes of Tim and Eric's Awesome show. It's the most absurd thing I've seen on TV in a while. It constantly bewildering. If someone could convert that brand of humor into photography, I'd buy their book.

© Blake Andrews, Hugo, 2012

f: Talk us through a day of shooting with you. Explain your specific ways of working, your tendencies, particular rhythms and habits.

BA: I don't think there's any typical day. How I shoot depends on where I am and what I'm shooting. When I'm shooting for the Grid projects I am often in residential or light industrial areas without a lot of pedestrians. In Portland I typically shoot the morning after photo meetings. As soon as there is enough light I drive to a new place in the grid, park, and start walking. I generally try to make a loop but the only real direction is toward the new. I avoid streets I've been on already. If I see an alley I generally go that way. If I see commercial activity I'm often drawn to that. I walk for about three or four hours until my legs are tired, shooting pretty much nonstop. Anything that catches my eye I photograph. Usually I can cover most of a grid (2.25 square miles) in three or four visits strung out over the course of a month.

With the Eugene grids I break it up into smaller chunks. I go out for one or two hours several times during the month. Generally the shooting pattern is the same as with Portland grid. I shoot anything that strikes me. I stay in new areas. I want to see it all block by block.

Downtown Portland is where I do most of my urban street shooting, and there my pattern is a bit different. Every week or so I'll park downtown and spend a few hours walking. Often I see gallery shows on the way, so I wind up parking at Blue Sky. From there my "normal" circuit is up Broadway to Pioneer Courthouse Square, around the bus malls and parks and whatever looks interesting, then back down 10th by Powell's through the Pearl back to Blue Sky. What I shoot depends a bit on my mood. I often look for people doing interesting things or wearing interesting outfits. Sometimes I follow them for a few blocks. I always shoot pigeons and car racks. Sometimes I will stake out a corner for a little while if the light is good or there's a good background scene. I know the city very well so there aren't many surprises. But that said, things always change. You never know what will be around the next corner. My shooting downtown is denser than in the grids. I might go through two or three rolls an hour compared to maybe half that rate in the grids. I only shoot the Leica downtown. Whereas in the grids I bring the wider quiver which lately has been Leica, Diana, Yashica TLR, and sometimes a Holga with color.

I don't generally shoot much downtown Eugene. It's pretty dead and there's not enough anonymity or suspense. Sometimes I shoot near the University where there's a lot of foot traffic.

Between all of that shooting is just my normal day to day photography. I always have my camera running errands. Sometimes I shoot from the car, especially if it's raining. And of course at home I shoot my kids and family all the time. Lately I've been exploring my kitchen with a small point and shoot digital camera. Shooting fork tines and food scraps and whatever's around. It's a good camera for getting in close.

But there's no real typical day. I shoot whatever's in front of me, and that's always changing.

© Blake Andrews, East 10th and Burnside, Portland, 2004

f: How would you say you have changed and grown as a photographer over time?

I'm generally looser as a shooter and tighter as an editor. I'm less formal with a camera than I used to be. I used to spend a lot of time lining up shapes and worrying about precision in photos. Now I'm more open to chance and natural flow. I don't want to dominate the moment so much. I want my photos to look more like snapshots than formal landscapes. I want to tap into that thing that can't be tapped into, but you know it when it's been tapped. And that's where the editing comes in. What's been tapped? I'm pickier now about images. I won't print some now that I might have printed before, especially street stuff. It has to have some twist or spark which is fairly rare.

I have more experience looking at other work now. I keep up with what's out there and I think it's made me more skeptical. I'm more open to other photographic approaches but also more picky, more sure of myself. I used to look through the books at Powell's and marvel at all the great photo books that were out there. I wanted so many. Now when I browse the stacks I wonder, "How did this shit get published?" Most of it strikes me as pretentious crap. So I guess I'm more of an arrogant asshole now. At the same time I'm more receptive to a wider range of approaches. I have an appreciation for portraits, for a example, in a way that I didn't just five years ago. So it's a paradox. Go figure.

© Blake Andrews, 42nd Avenue, 2004

f: You have said a number of times you work off Winogrand's motto: “I photograph to see what something looks like in a picture” and that Friedlander taught you that “a photo can be just about visual pleasure with no other burden.” True to these comments, your visual intelligence shows in your work - the combination of two incongruous elements to make a third meaning, plays with geometry, visual puns, the way you line things up and cut things off are unique and impressively developed skills.

Going beyond that, it seems your bodies of images, your writing and even your site push to understand and structure life - via lists, classifications, labeling, pointing out, collecting, and grid projects - and that it’s ultimately about the failure to be able to do so because it’s impossible to fully organize, accurately classify, and keep up with all the images and lists and projects.

My thoughts on your work are:
a. astute
b. horsefeathers
c. something you already thought
d. there’s something to it, but...

 BA: D. I just like making photographs. It's much less enjoyable for me to deal with the aftermath. I know that sounds like a cop-out, but it's just how I am. That said, I am actually quite organized. If you ask me to find a particular photo I can generally locate it quickly. My main organizing technique is by date. Every photo gets a date on the back, along with a few other notes to help me find the negative. But mostly I keep track chronologically. I think this is important not only because dates are vital, but because it says something about my style. All these photos I'm making form a chronological chain. It's a life journal as much as it is anything else. In a way dating simplifies everything. No two photos can happen at once. Every image has a place.

Dates are being erased and that's one of my pet peeves. We're losing our cultural memory. Sometimes I'll load a re-released CD into iTunes and the date comes up as 2005 or something when I know the material was recorded in 1975. To me that's erasing history. It's criminal. I have the same problem with some blogs and Tumblrs. If the posts aren't dated I can't read them. It's just a mishmash. A date provides so much context. Every book I've ever opened I've looked at the date before anything else.

 f: Lastly, what’s next for you, Blake?

BA: One of my dreams since childhood has been to make an NFL roster, so I'm going to give that a crack this fall.

© Blake Andrews, Adrian, Maine, 2001

89: Anthony Rush

Anthony Rush
untitled, from the series "Of other spaces"
June 2011

Series statement: "Of other spaces" is an attempt to come to terms with the personal buried within a much wider political and historical context, an attempt to come to terms with the issue of belonging and identity on a cultural and personal level. The particular area of interest in this series of photographs is the joint and now former military barracks of Lisanelly and St. Lucia in Omagh, decommissioned in 2007 as one of the conditions of the Northern Ireland peace process. My interest in the space is largely a result of the time my late Father spent living there. He was the eldest son of an Irish Catholic who served as a British soldier for most of his life. The contradictions inherent in his position meant, in the light of the Northern Irish conflict, that my Father's background was for the most part not spoken about. His family, and to some extent our own, seemed always at odds with ourselves and unsure of our place within a polarized society.

Book Discussion Group Recap: Walker Evans

© Walker Evans, Houses and Billboards in Atlanta, 1936

I am joining Flak Photo and creator Andy Adams to host an online community conversation on the Flak Photo Books Facebook page focused on essays from Gerry Badger’s recently published book of essays, "The Pleasures of Good Photographs."

This public discussion provides a structured setting for expanding our understanding of the essays by reading collectively. All are welcome to join in! We began with the essay, "Literate, Authoritative, Transcendent: Walker Evans's American Photographs" and the conversation continues this week of Monday, May 21st with the essay "A Certain Sensibility: John Gossage, the Photographer as Auteur." (page 87) A full reading schedule can be found here.

I am following up on these community conversations with posts here on fototazo that will recap a selection of the ideas we discuss.  These follow-up posts will necessarily be an abbreviated selection given the length and quality of the conversation in the community discussion threads. In many cases, what arose from the conversation were questions and ideas to continue to explore, and not necessarily conclusions or consensus. My goal with these follow-up posts is to pull out threads from the weekly discussion that can be applied beyond the individual essays to inform our general understanding of the medium itself.

____________________________________

TERMS
We found quickly that a core issue for a group conversation is the importance of defining terms. As the conversation evolved, the differentiation between the words "truth," "reality," and "accurate" became crucial for understanding one another.

We generally came to an understanding of "reality" meaning the world in which we live physically, "accurate" to mean the fidelity of a representation to something in reality, and "truth" to mean...well, I don't think we ever came close to an agreement. See below.



TRUTH
The healthiest argument of the week focused around the perennial issue of truth in photography.

The issue of how to use the term was an issue from the start. Was truth a measure of how "accurate" an image is? Was truth a problematic term leading us all into the winter woods at dusk with no matches? Is there a single truth? Many truths?

Defining "truth" started to pull us into larger conversations of philosophy and semantics. It was suggested that we define the term. It was suggested we stop talking about the term.

Contributor Pedro Safadi addressed the passage by Badger that sparked the debate. In this passage, Badger wrote that Evans believed, "The photographer must impose nothing upon direct and undiluted experience. He must discover, divine, and reveal his truth rather than construct it." (page 31)

Safadi replied, "I think it is very telling that the words 'his truth' rather that 'a truth' or 'the truth' are used in that sentence. Walker Evans may have preached for the capturing of reality free of manipulation as a tenet of documentary photography, but he has been accused of rearranging objects in some of the photographs he made. Are those manipulated photographs factually truthful? They are not if the threshold is transcribing a place and time as it existed in that precise temporal chunk that the camera has sliced away. Are they pieces of the photographer’s subjective personal truth that he / she wanted to reveal to us, where that truth transcends the actual and factual physical reality? I believe they are."

These comments represented one side of the conversation that argued for a separation of "accurate" (as defined above) from "truth" and a vision not just of a single truth, but different kinds of truth. One could be "accurate." Another could be a sense of "emotional truth" or a sense of rightness about an image.

A second camp pushed for a stronger single bond between "true" and "accurate," in part because this helps to emphasize photography's unique ability to present a relatively unmediated view of reality, a bond which lead Badger to write, "For me, the documentary, or the 'documentary mode,' remains not only the core of the medium, but the source of its greatest potency." (7)

The fundamental and eternal debate on truth in photography was not fully resolved this week by our discussion group.



CONSTRUCTION
Connected with the conversation on truth arose the related, but separate issue of construction in photography. It started from the same passage in the essay cited above, in which Badger writes that Evans believed a photographer must discover, divine, and reveal his truth rather than construct it.

As part of this conversation, contributor John Armstrong wrote, "Constructedness is the original sin of photography" and Bonita Springs, Florida-based photographer Dennis Church that "I believe all images are constructed, some more consciously than others."  Others felt accepting "construction" as a part of all images without establishing some guidelines would risk equating documentary work and photographers like Gregory Crewsdon.

Like in the conversation on truth, we discussed the idea of construction being on a spectrum that avoids the duality of an image being "constructed"or "not constructed." Instead, images would be seen through degrees of construction with complete construction of a scene on one side of the spectrum and construction by unavoidable decisions on lens choice, perspective, and cropping on the other side.



TRUTH AND TIME
The point was made that the question of "truth" in photography may rely on time; that the truth-value of an image may actually shift according to public perceptions of photography over time. This suggests any photographic truth is not an absolute, but something that may be redefined in relation to changes in the history and understanding of the medium.

As an example, the work of Alexander Gardner, accepted as "photojournalism" in the 1860s and therefore likely seen in its day as mostly truthful in terms of depicting an event that actually happened, today would be labeled as less "truthful" (in these terms) because the contemporary code of photojournalism does not provide for moving objects and bodies in an image. The image itself would therefore be less "true" today than in the past due to shifting perceptions of what is acceptable in photojournalism.



BELIEF IN PHOTOGRAPHY
One of the bigger points of disagreement during the week was over the state of belief we have in photography in contemporary life. This seems an issue that truly divides current thinking on photography.

LA-based photographer Justin Fiset wrote a strong defense of the "we believe" position:

     Where you get it wrong is claiming that photography has no franchise on reality, it does.
     Here’s why. Even though we’re all real smart people who are hip to post-modernism and
     photoshop we still believe photographs. During the course of a day we take photographic
     veracity for granted at least a hundred times. Even a heavily photoshoped image on your
      Facebook feed that made you do a double-take, you subconsciously afforded the photo your
     trust before you realized you had been tricked (I’m trying to think of an example to use here
     but I’ve got nothing, sorry). That trust wouldn’t have been given to an illustration...

London-based photographer Pete Massingham took the opposing view:

     In response to Justins' excellent comments I feel obliged to respond and to some extent beg
     to differ. I am not altogether convinced that people (artists/practitioners) today do actually
     believe in a photographic veracity. One of the exquisite but illusional qualities of the photographic
     process has been its ability to seduce us into a false sense of relationship to reality, when in fact
     what we are perceiving is as much a representation of reality as the painted or drawn image. The
     fact we believe in it does not make it any more real as a document of reality. I am reminded of
     a well known dialogue that occurred between Picasso and a newspaper or art critic. The
     interviewer was trying to pin Picasso down on the issue of realism in his distorted figurative
     paintings, and offered I believe an image of his wife from his wallet as evidence of an image
     which was more realistic. Picasso's response was something along the lines of 'So your wife is
     only three inches tall and two wide is she?'

Badger weighs in with Massingham. He writes in the introduction: "Photography's value as art has never been so high, yet in these mediawise and Photoshopping times its value as documentary has never been so questioned." (8)



WHERE MEANING IS CREATED
Educator and photographer Angela Kelly made the point towards the end of the week that, "A readerly approach while taking into account the artist's intention suggests the larger meaning of a work of art lies somewhere between the artists intention and the audience or even critic who encounters it within a different context."

Massingham followed by writing "What happens once the work is thrown open to public scrutiny (either in book form or as an exhibition) is both fascinating and complex. Arguments are developed, and theories espoused, all of which inform our understanding of the works of art in question. However, there are ocasions when this process of examination is presented as the primary concern of the work - the original context and intent relegated to some dark redundent corner of history. To accept that contemporary theory and observation can be interwoven at will with historical works - without contradiction or complication, is troublesome to say the least."

This conversation about where meaning is created in art, and the potential dangers of disregarding original intent, is one I hope we continue to investigate during the coming weeks in our essay discussions.



AMERICAN PHOTOGRAPHERS
Badger writes that Evans is the "most American of artists." (28) This raised the question of who we would say defines "American photography."

Texas-based photographer Pugilist Press included Robert Adams, William Christenberry, William Eggleston. Wright Morris, Ed Ruscha, and - in the way they approach the American Image in a similar way - Cindy Sherman and Philip-Lorca DiCorcia on his list.

Safadi added, "Those who, for me, define American photography during the period that spans the beginning of the 20th century all the way through to the start of the 2nd World War include the greats such as Ansel Adams and Edward Weston as well as [Alfred] Stieglitz, [Lewis] Hine, [Paul] Strand."

The question of which photographers define "American photography" remains another question to continue pursuing during the coming weeks.



THE OBJECT IN AMERICAN ART
Badger's argument for Evans being the most American of artists rests largely on a passage in the essay in which he addresses the object in the history of American art.

One contributor summarized it well: "'The integrity of the object' – I think the crux of Badger’s argument lies within that statement. If, for Badger, the fundamental essence of American art (and what actually defines it) is indeed the integrity of the object being depicted then certainly the medium of photography provides that integrity as part and parcel of its true nature. And that is why, in his point of view, the American sensibility lends itself to the photographic medium as the mode of expression that allows for the transparent means of capturing/depicting the object in its entirety (faults and all)."

And Pugilist Press added: "I will say that Americans have a special relationship with the object that while not that singular in experience seems to be singular in cultural expression. It has something to do with the potential for splendor in the vernacular and a penchant for sensuality. It's Elvis' Blue Suede Shoes, American Graffiti's cars, those baubles from The Man in The High Castle, Ignatz' brick."

Both make good points. While also keeping in mind that America in popular thought is connected with object creation, consumption, and possession, however, a hanging question from this conversation is whether the object has a particular place in American High Art, and not just in popular cultural expression.

Badger seems to say so, couching his argument for Evans as a quintessential American artist by drawing Evans' connection to the history of the object in US painting. But what about Dutch still lives? And Cézanne? And Morandi? The incredibly detailed objects in a Thai Ramayana mural? Is the connection between the object in High Art and America really unique? Could we equally argue that landscapes are uniquely "American" with US ties to the Western frontier, the New World, and Manifest Destiny?



NARRATIVE
We also considered the narrative potential of photography this week. To what degree can photography tell stories? What are the limits of narrative in photography?

We talked - in the shadow of a previous conversation on truth and construction in a single image - about the subjective control of the message of a photobook through sequencing images to create narrative. Leeds, UK-based photographer and educator Philip Welding raised an interesting point: "Badger compares [American Photographs] to an epic poem, film or novel; all very much fictional constructs. It seems more comfortable to recognize this artifice within book form than when discussing the photography itself."

It's a good question - are we more comfortable with accepting the artifice of sequencing, editing, constructed narrative, and presentation decisions than we are with the idea that a photograph itself is a constructed fiction?

To push a step more: does questioning the "truth" of an image itself threaten our understanding of reality and ourselves in a way that causes many of us to want to defend it, while we understand and accept the fiction of a narrative sequence, edit, and presentation more comfortably?



READING TEXTS
One last point. A text can be read in two ways - first, to understand the author's intent, to push to understand what the writer says, and to engage the author on their terms.

The second, equally important and perhaps more important for photography practitioners and non-academics, is reading a text to find what we need for our own practice and thought processes, regardless of a more literal analysis of what the author intended.

Bill Evans, the jazz pianist, once said that he was a Buddhist, but didn't want to learn anything more about Buddhism. What he understood Buddhism to be, he said, was exactly what he needed it to be. He was afraid that if he learned more about it, he might discover that it wasn’t actually what he understood and wanted it to be.

This spirit is important to maintain in our reading, especially of more academically-oriented texts. Rather than pinpointing an understanding of the author’s argument on a particular part of a photographer’s career, frequently letting a sentence or idea resonate so that it leads us to an understanding we can apply to our own work gives us more from our reading, even if it’s not exactly accurate....true...real...wait...uh oh...the original intent of the text itself.

Profile: Stag & Deer

Stag & Deer is a Cork, Ireland-based guerilla gallery exhibition project for contemporary visual art, especially photography. Founders Pamela Condell and Pádraig Spillane answered questions for us about the group.

fototazo: What is the backstory on how Stag & Deer formed?

Stag & Deer: We knew each other as acquaintances and then both signed up for photography lectures at the Lewis Glucksman Gallery here in Cork during the later half of 2009. Through a mutual love for lens-based work; appreciation of each other's photographic practice and wishing to have our own show outside of the gallery remit; we decided to begin investigating the potential within slack spaces [unused spaces] for art presentation.

We had our first show in November 2010 and things have just kept expanding since. We hope that ultimately our identity (through slack spaces) will continue to distinguish us in the future.

f: Tell us about the history of the guerrilla gallery idea.

S&D: The guerilla gallery idea is one that gathers from many different places. As an idea and practice it is not new but it is one that has impact and room for inventive interpretation. There are different concerns and items that inform the use of guerilla galleries. For example, the context of a slack space can become a one off; a durational combination of place and photographic work. The use of space creates a different dialogue for the work and for the site. Also, the use of guerilla galleries creates a platform for visibility for emerging or early career artists. These are the two central items that propel us as exhibition-makers using the guerrilla gallery model. We draw on different sites, work and the context created through both to create something, hopefully vibrant, to allow a different way of encountering photographic work.

f: What is the photographic exhibition world like in Cork - and in Ireland generally? Does your employing the guerilla gallery idea there reflect a lack of other spaces locally?

S&D: Photographic exhibitions in Cork and in Ireland are moving forward. To be purely descriptive of it, there is the Gallery of Photography in Dublin and the now annual PhotoIreland Festival. Large institutions like the Irish Museum of Modern Art and Lewis Glucksman Gallery have shown quite large shows dealing with contemporary photography while other galleries like the Sirius Arts Centre in Cobh, Co. Cork have strong photographic programming. The general trend for photography shows in Ireland has been of creating greater interest and feeding this by exhibiting bigger international names and thematic shows or private collections.

As purveyors of the guerrilla gallery model, we try to bring something, for want of a better term, more "grassroots' on a local and national level. We have based our exhibitions on emerging artists, recent graduates from national art colleges (Maeve O’Neill, IADT) while at the same time showcasing what is in our view, promising emerging international artists in Ireland (Karen Miranda-Rivandeneria, Dante Busquets, Goran Galic and Gian-Reto Gredig). It is vital for a "scene" to explain its own way forward while looking to the outside. In essence, the energy that we offer is to exhibit and to create opportunities for early careers lens-based artists that might be not available from larger institutions or commercial galleries.

We also hope to instill a sense of adventure through this strategy, we hope to open up the passion we have for a national conversation concerning the photographic image and art presentation.

f: What are the projects that you have worked on so far?

S&D: To date, we have worked with established galleries, festivals and independent spaces through the slack space mode. These particular projects have included our own shows solely flagged under the Stag & Deer banner within the program of festivals such as All My Lovin’, PhotoIreland and ArtTrail. This has provided us with exterior support while bringing our own exhibition-making / curatorial voice.

All of our shows have been held in unused / peripheral spaces; shop storerooms, warehouses, empty mansions and an old nail bar in a Georgian arcade.

f: Talk us through how an exhibition comes together, from concept and selecting participating artists to closing the exhibition.

S&D: Usually we work with a general theme and boil that down through time and effort. We tend to open dialogue around where our own interest is currently positioned; while paying careful attention to what’s happening on a national and international field. It’s interesting to see what’s coming to the forefront and to consider what trends are emerging in photography / figure if they relate to our own position etc.

For Home as part of PhotoIreland 2011, the theme was domestic space. So we needed to go on a quest for work surrounding this by having an open submission call out. We had 226 submissions from across the globe which we concentrated down to two. Whilst doing this we kept our eyes open looking for a space or site that would marry with the work. It was a very tough process. Eventually with the help of PhotoIreland, we found a dilapidated Georgian house in Dublin city centre, full of residue from previous occupiers and tenets. The work combined well with the site, and for all intents and purposes, it became a site specific installation.

f: How does the guerilla gallery concept change the dynamic between artist and the curation world?

S&D: Well, first off we don’t see ourselves technically as curators per say. We see ourselves as exhibition-makers. That is just a technical thing. We care for the work but only for a limited time, i.e. for the run of an exhibition. We do not have the resources for a permanent collection or anything like that. We care for the work in reference to making or working within a context for an exhibition

We’re not sure if it creates a very big difference. The dynamic between curator / exhibition-maker and artist is one of relationship; fluid and hopefully compatible. With all the artists we work with we hope to keep the relationship up after an exhibition ends. Our interest in them or their work is not just for the event of a particular show and we hope to work again with them on some future project.

f: Do guerilla galleries broaden the expressive potential for bodies of work by allowing them to operate in contexts that go beyond the white cube?

S&D: Yes, but only to some. Some work can extend to display in different spaces and generate dialogue well or create an exciting tension. Some need the white cube.

f: Are there many other groups in Ireland or elsewhere working with guerilla galleries?

S&D: Guerilla Exhibition in Dublin has had a series of offsite events by having flash events on hoardings showcasing new works. Also, ArtTrail works with slack spaces in Cork.

f: What is next for Stag & Deer?

S&D: This October we are planning a large photographic event, here in Cork City, called THERE THERE.

The basic thematic framework for THERE THERE is otherness and the possible re-connections and interpretations of the world we are immersed in. As exhibition-makers, we are fascinated with the communicative power that photographic images hold and the contextualisation of different photographic / lens-based works from different parts of the globe in an Irish situation.

As global citizens, we all are deep in socially-constructed signs loaded with commercial and political connotations, with other humane signs going and remaining unnoticed, i.e. how we relate to each other and the gifts that happen in living. THERE THERE will be a space that is open for imaginative re-positionings and crucially one of wonder that allows the familiar and unfamiliar to weave together. The ambition behind THERE THERE will be to open up a gap or break for us as situated beings to re-imagine our place with each other and our surroundings.

THERE THERE will be an event connecting established galleries with slack spaces through interventions and photographic presentation.

During the summer we will be announcing further details regarding the overall event. Presently, we are preparing to announce the details of our open submission show as part of THERE THERE.

Please check our website for details regarding submissions in the coming week.

88: Ruhollah Mahmoudi

Ruhollah Mahmoudi
Ashura in Bijar, Kurdestan, Iran
A group of Muslims who have sorrow for his Imam Hossein on Ashura Day in Bijar, Kurdestan, Iran.
2009

Series Statement: Muharram is the first month of the Islamic calendar. It is one of the four sacred months of the year in which fighting is prohibited.

Muharram is so called because it is unlawful to fight during this month; the word is derived from the word haram, meaning "forbidden." It is held to be the most sacred of all the months, excluding Ramadan. Some Muslims fast during these days. The tenth day of Muharram is called Yaumu-l 'Ashurah, which is known by Shia Muslims as "the day of grief."

Muharram is a month of remembrance that is often considered synonymous with the event of Ashura. Ashura, which literally means the "Tenth" in Arabic, refers to the tenth day of Muharram. It is well-known because of historical significance and mourning for the martyrdom of Hossein ibn Ali, the grandson of Prophet Muhammad.

Shias start the mourning from the first night of Muharram and continue for two months and eight days. However the last days are the most important since these were the days where Imam Hossein and his family and followers (consisting of 72 people, including women, children and aged people) were killed by the army of Yazid I on his orders, Surviving members of the family of Hussain and that of his followers were taken captive and marched to Damascus and imprisoned there.

This ceremony takes place every year at the Day of Ashura in Bijar, a province of Kurdestan. They make a great amount of mud to mourn for their Imam Hossein that was killed cruelly.

International Site Profiles: Panoramica Galerie

We're following that post with a series of short profiles that will collectively provide a starting point for an exploration of international blogs, online magazines, and pages. We began by looking at Kilele, We Take Pictures Too, Arab Image Foundation, Greater Middle East Photo, Space Cadet, Street Level Japan, Kantor Berita MES 56, Japan Exposures, Invisible Photographer Asia, my new notebook, oitzarisme, La Fototeca, and ZoneZero.

Today we continue with a look at Argentina-based Panoramica Galerie.

THE BASICS
Site: Panoramica Galerie
Location: Argentina
Recommended sample post: Edición II
Frequency of posts: Very low - one per year
Founded: 2010
Last updated: 2011
In a sentence: An online reference gallery published as a yearly "edition" featuring a cross-section of contemporary Argentinian photographers.

____________________

Panoramica Galerie is published as an "edition" every 12-18 months. Each edition features roughly two dozen Argentinian photographers from across the "panorama" of contemporary photography in the country. The site is in Spanish, but focuses heavily on the images and is easy to navigate.

Each photographer selected to be part of the edition is represented by between eight and ten images and a short biography. The site is for the general public, but also designed with an eye towards being a reference source on contemporary Argentinian photography for curators, collectors, museums, and galleries.

Panoramica Galerie can be found on Facebook.

Interview: Blake Andrews, Part II

© Blake Andrews, Leo, Zane, Keegan, 2008

This is the second of three interview posts with Blake Andrews. The first part can be found here. The third part will be published next Thursday, May 24th.


f: Alec Soth started off a recent article he wrote on Martin Parr in the Minneapolis StarTribune by calling him the Jay-Z of documentary photography.

BA: I think what Soth was referring to is a sort of hyper-contemporary vibe. Both Parr and Jay-Z seem to have a hand in many cultural outlets nowadays. They almost define contemporary. But also both have a loose experimental quality. Always moving into new territory. And the fascination with bling. Truth is I'm not a huge fan of Jay-Z. I'll take MF Doom over Jay-Z.

f: In respect to your plea for more interactive posts - discussed last week in the first part of this interview - complete the following photographer-musician analogy. Martin Parr is to Jay-Z as Blake Andrews is to  _________.

BA: Woody Guthrie. I'm guessing this relates to my survey from several months back comparing Dylan and Frank. Guthrie for a few reasons. First of all, he was absolutely prolific. Many photographers make a point of never going somewhere without a camera. I suspect Guthrie was like that with his guitar. He carried it everywhere. If he couldn't fit the guitar he at least had a pen and notebook. I doubt there were many days when he wasn't writing songs or lyrics. Second, he was fiercely independent and had a deep suspicion of institutions which I share. I am deeply cynical about corporations, government, and general group-think. Third, he was a bit of a renaissance man. He wasn't just a songwriter. He was an artist, a dad, a writer. And just a good spirit in general. So I admire the guy. I wish he'd written a blog.

I've had a tickertape message on the bottom of my camera for years. It says "THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS" A direct homage to Guthrie.

© Blake Andrews, Laurelhurst Park, 2002

  
f: And as a way to push towards interactive posts, I would like to invite you to make a creative competition for other photographers with me, the results of which we can publish both here and on B.

BA: One competition that I've been curious to try is based on predicted outcomes. You set out 20 well-known photos by famous photographers from a wide variety of types and eras. Then people rank them from most favorite to least favorite, 1 to 20. Then collate, average, and form a general ranking based on all voters. That's the simple part. The second layer is to have people guess at the overall rankings before they're revealed. Perhaps this would happen during the initial voting, or shortly after. Then collate predictions. The person who predicts favorites most accurately is the winner. This would only work with a large enough pool of voters. At least 100 or so.

[This contest is now live! You can participate by clicking here.]

f: You have actively explored the medium itself, working with panoramas, color and black and white, a range of formats and cameras. You have published your images as playing cards and are working on a faux-postcard project. What drives you to expand the range of approaches to photography in this way? Is there something you feel you can do with these explorations that 35mm black and white cannot do?

BA: My camera experiments have typically been winter flings. When the days get shorter and the rains set it, it's not as easy to roam outside with a camera. But I still need to make photos. So I've explored a variety of ways to shoot inside using flash or slow shutter speed or a combination of the two. I've toyed with Noblex, Diana, Holga, digital point 'n shoot, Fuji Instax, etc. The only common denominator is that they're all hand held. They're quick 'n dirty cameras, no tripod, no fuss. Typically I go on a serious bender with a camera and shoot the crap out of it for a few months before the buzz gradually wears off.

That's fine for winter. But during nice weather I kick into high gear and that's basically 35 mm black and white. That's been the core of my work for the past 20 years. It feels right because it rewards experimentation and multiple frames. There's very little penalty for pressing the shutter, as opposed to say 4 x 5. I know that for most people 35 mm is a dead form. It's seen as anachronistic and passe but I can't help it. It's just how I see. If I want my photos to get any attention it probably has to be in another format. So I've tinkered with many methods, but 35 black and white still gives me the most satisfaction. I shoot a few rolls every day from about May through October.

I think whatever you use you need to commit fully to it. You can't be fiddling around wondering what camera to use. It has to be one or the other, and ideally just one lens too. You have to see and think like a camera, and that's hard to do if you're shuffling between several. At least that's my experience.

© Blake Andrews, Main St., Springfield, 2007

f: A related question: you have said in a previous interview that as a child, you thought photography was a mere recording of a scene and because of this you weren’t interested in it. It’s interesting, then, that despite expanding the range of approaches to photography as mentioned above in the previous question, that one of the few lines you do not cross is that line between “straight” and “constructed” photography. What keeps you on this side of that line? Have you ever tried constructing a scene for an image?

BA: I have constructed images for the blog. The postcards, for example, are constructed. I substituted blue skies for grey. For applications like that or for commercial applications I think constructing images is fine. But for examining the world, which I think photography does very well, constructed images aren't very interesting to me. They don't show the world so much as they show what's in someone's mind. Nothing wrong with that. I'm just more interested in the world. And that applies to other forms too. I only read nonfiction. I generally prefer documentaries to fictional films. I guess I have my quirks.

© Blake Andrews, Edgewood, Eugene, 2008

f: In a Wired article on photobloggers, you also mentioned what you’d like to see less of in the photography world: “Less 6 x 7 aspect ratio color photos of the human-nature interface delicately composed, with everything in focus; less portraiture with desaturated colors; less perfectionism; less constructed images and more found images; less commercial advertising on blogs; and less equipment talk.” Building from this previous list, please list the 10 most painful trends in contemporary photography in 2012, in reverse order from 10 to 1 with 1 being the most painful.

BA: I will probably get in trouble here. First of all, everyone is totally free to do what they want. As with any Top Ten list, please take these with a grain of salt.

10. The widespread inability among practitioners to differentiate an average print from a great one.

9. Thought before seeing. It should be the other way. Shoot first, ask questions later.

8. Conscious perfectionism and unconscious imperfections.

7. Film growing more expensive as it gradually phases out.

6. The planned obsolescence of most cameras in use now, and the correlating obsolescence of work being made with them.

5. Neo-pictorialism. I am all for shooting Holga / Diana / Instagram, as long as the material isn't sappy. But when blurriness combines with an overly sentimental vibe, it feels like something that was done, and better, 100 years ago.

4. Photos without credits attached. Every photo printed or online should include some reference to the creator's name. I'd guess that less than half actually do.

3. The idea that everyone's a photographer. Everyone has a thermometer in their medicine cabinet. That doesn't mean we're all doctors.

2. The conflation of a photographer's life story with their images in assessing aesthetic merit.

1. Homogenization. In photography as well as in the broader culture, homogenization is the most powerful, evil force we face. All 7 billion of us are unique. Be yourself.

© Blake Andrews, San Diego, CA, 2007

f: And what gives you optimism for the photography world today?

BA: 10. The ocean of photographic archives currently being put online by various public entities. A very powerful resource in all sorts of ways, some not even thought of yet.

9. Street photography's apparent revival. Possibly a reaction to photography's hyper-conceptual direction.

8. Cupertino. Post. Applesauce.

7. General improvements in color printing over the past decade. Forty years ago good color prints were generally inaccessible. Now they can be made by anyone.

6. Looking forward to the return of Jesus Christ my lord and savior. I'm expecting him to help me fine tune my portfolio.

5. The decreased environmental impact of picturemaking. The marginal cost to the environment of taking a digital snapshot is virtually zero compared to the age of paper and chemicals. Of course the planet is already fucked anyway so I'm not sure it matters much in the end.

4. The decline of matting in galleries. It's about time we phased out this Victorian relic. Maybe glazing will be next.

3. The idea that everyone's a photographer. Never has photography been more accessible to all. Moholy-Nagy said "the illiterate of the future will be the person ignorant of the camera as well as the pen." I think we have finally, only quite recently, arrived at that future.

2. The photobook renaissance. These are the glory days of photobook publishing.

1. Every time I press the shutter I'm an optimist. The idea that the next image will be special is what keeps me going.

© Blake Andrews, SE 45th and Adler, 2004

Part III can be found here

The Blake Andrews Interview Contest

In Part II of our three part interview with Blake Andrews, we invited him to create a contest, the results to be published both here and on his blog B.

He proposed a two-part contest, the first consists of selecting 20 images by well-known photographers from a wide variety of types and eras, then asking at least 100 people to rank them from most favorite to least favorite, from 1 to 20 with number 1 being their most favorite.

Andrews and I will collate and then average a general ranking based on all voters.

The second part of the contest is to ask participants to guess at the overall averaged rankings of the 20 images by all participants before they're revealed, from 1 to 20 with number 1 being the most popular. We will then collate predictions.

The person who predicts the favorites of all voters most accurately is the winner of a prize announced here.

ENTRIES ARE DUE AT MIDNIGHT, JUNE 7TH, EASTERN STANDARD TIME. RESULTS WILL BE PUBLISHED ON FRIDAY JUNE 8TH.

Below are the 20 images for the contest.

To participate, send in your two lists - labelled as "FAVORITES" and "RANKING GUESS" - with "CONTEST" in the subject line to fototazo@gmail.com. Please use the photographers' name (located in the caption) to identify the image. Below are larger versions of each image listed alphabetically.

Diane Arbus

Roger Ballen

Robert Capa

William Eggleston

87: Jamie Furlong

Jamie Furlong
Smokin'
February 9, 2012

Series Statement
I sailed from Turkey to India in 2010 and since arriving in Cochin I've never left. It is now my home and slowly, very slowly, I have been getting under the skin of India and finding out what makes Indians tick. Cochin is in the state of Kerala, which is one of the most affluent and the most educated of all the states in India, but a contingency of residents are still employed in manual labour. These workers are reducing in number as the generation beneath them receive a good education and move in to white-collar jobs. The workers are fascinating to watch; I can spend hours wandering the wholesale fruit depots, or the still-functioning colonial warehouses, where skinny men in blue dhotis (wrap-around skirts) carry 30 kilo sacks of pineapples on their heads and wander the tight streets to make their delivery without complaint. I've been taking natural-light portraits of these workers, sometimes within the context of their environment but more often than not close-ups, over the last two years. Most only speak Malayalam, the regional language, not even Hindi, so although I get to know their job and their workplace, I rarely get to find out who they are and what they are all about. These intimate portraits are as close as I will ever get to these people.

The Image: Julia Kozerski, "Changing Room"

Julia Kozerski: Following my wedding in July 2009, I decided to make a series of changes to my lifestyle in order to lose weight. During the year that followed, I successfully lost over 160 pounds. Throughout this time I was also working towards my BFA in photography at the Milwaukee Institute of Art & Design (MIAD). Utilizing self-portraiture, I explored my physical and emotional experiences, subsequently developing my long-term photographic project entitled "Half."

Both in front of the lens and not, I struggled to come to terms with my changing body. As the weight came off, the shape of my body shifted dramatically and the monumental task of maintaining a well-fitting wardrobe ensued. I felt lost, not understanding the person looking back at me in the mirror. My physique was always in a state of flux and, in an attempt to strike a balance between how I felt and how I looked, I ventured out to stores on a daily basis, piling my arms full of clothing of all shapes and sizes. There was no method to my madness and I subsequently spent hours within the confines of store dressing rooms trying to "find" myself. Purely for personal reference, I used my iPhone to document these endeavors.

The first photograph in “Changing Room” was taken in early 2009, well before I embarked on my healthy-living journey. I was shopping for my wedding dress with my sister, Jamie (who actually doubled as the photographer for the image.) Evident is my discomfort; not only with the dress I was modeling but also with the act of allowing myself to be “captured” by the photograph. Nearly 200 images followed. From swimwear and ballgowns, to lingerie and high heels (some items more serious than others,) the digital captures harness not only the physical, but also the emotional changes I endured - unrestricted by the photographic constraints embedded from my training.

The images in “Half” are real and true to my personal experience but are also very controlled in their execution – equal consideration was paid to visual aesthetics as it was to content. The images in “Changing Room” are just the opposite, as it was not an intentional photographic series. These photographs were never meant to be shared, they were taken for myself. It wasn't until one year later, succeeding the completion of my series “Half,” that I uncovered the archive of cellphone images I had amassed.

Upon reflection and retrospection, these photographs have been released as, the now titled series, “Changing Room.” They serve an important role breaching the divide between the public and the private and offer a raw, uncensored, and unrestricted “behind-the-scenes” look of my personal experience. These images not only compliment those in “Half” but also connect to the more universal themes of body-image and self-exploration that I continue to investigate in my complete body of work.