When is the artist/photographer a revolutionary. . .?

<p>That is a great personal anecdote, Fred. If I had anything nearly as concise and insightful to offer, I would do so.</p>

<p>As for issues of "right" and "wrong," I do not like to think of philosophy or any conversation as being a contest, especially not one where one person tries to prove the other wrong. I especially deplore conversation when it devolves to trying to "checkmate" an "opponent." I prefer a "meeting of the minds" to a "checkmate."</p>

<p>When explicit propositions are advanced, however, I do not know how to avoid assessing their possible "truth value." It is unfortunate that egos get tangled up in trying to untangle claims about "truth."</p>

<p>I take a similar (to me) stance on the use of such language as "beautiful," "mystical," "ethereal" or whatever. I am glad when persons emote and try to express the inexpressible, but I recognize the limitations of mere words.</p>

<p>I also recognize the limitations, alas, of photographs as well. I am still glad that persons keep trying to communicate.</p>

<p>What are we trying to communicate? I like the words of the song made famous by Louis Armstrong: "I see friends shaking hands, saying 'How do you do?' They're only saying, 'I love you.'" We are communing when we shake hands, share a photo, comment on a photo--and when we speak of the "Photo.net Community."</p>

<p>Alas, communities are fragile. May this one last a long time. . . .</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<p>OMG.</p>

<p>I talk about two important (revolutionary) photographers (what this thread purports to be about) and how they think of the significance of surfaces and how things appear when they think about photography. You don't respond by talking about surfaces or the importance of how things look in photography but instead go on for pages of talk about how important it is to not insist on one way of looking at things and to debate theories of rationalism and empiricism.</p>

<p>But OK, you genuinely misunderstood and we seemed to clear that up. In doing so, I included a story to illustrate why it's important to internalize and honor ideas like those of Avedon and Winogrand and instead of picking up on those photographic ideas, you offer us thoughts on right and wrong, truth vale, and propositions.</p>

<p>It wouldn't have taken a thesis to answer Tim or near as many words as you spoke after he asked his question. It would have taken a few minutes of looking at photos and thinking about what empiricism and epistemology might have to do with them. It took me about 15 minutes to consider and write about Avedon and Winogrand.</p>

<p>I don't know why I hope for something different. It's not happening.</p>

<p>Yes, Phil, still pretty empirical, both seeing and feeling. It would be very different to say one photographs to see what things really are, though a non-Winogrand-like case could be made for that. In a sense, Weston, for example, not only showed us what a pepper looked like photographed and could feel like when photographed. He actually showed us what else a pepper could be, aside from a fruit . . . or vegetable . . . I always get those two confused. [Lannie, please no dissertations on the difference between a fruit and vegetable. Thanks. ;-)]</p>

<p>Yes! Something I think you, Julie, Tim, Donald, I, and some others have been trying to encourage.</p>

<p>In direct answer to the OP...<br>

When they start a revolution..........or at least an insurrection.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>Not so with science, which never looks back and rather wants to forget its history of no longer accepted scientific truths.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Phil, I have read Kuhn dozens of times, since I used him in my philosophy of social science course, among others. (I no longer get to teach that.) I am almost dumbfounded that what you quoted is what you came away with.</p>

<p>That is not a negative statement about you. It is a reflection on how people can read the same text, view the same photo, hear the same question, and not really be on the same page--nor am I saying that we should be. We get what we get from whom we get it, and we integrate it (or not) into our own "worldview"--and we move on.</p>

<p>I do not know anyone in chemistry who has not said to me, if the topic has drifted that way, "We should teach more history of chemistry." We should indeed. Everyone tells me, however, that they <em><strong>do</strong></em> read in the history of their own scientific discipline. I moved away from chemistry a long time ago, but I was astounded over the last few years to see how much I have learned by studying the history of chemistry. It has been very enlightening.</p>

<p>Why am I saying this? Because people consistently misread Kuhn on a number of points. We still have the flat earth theory in physics, if anyone wants to trot out that old paradigm as an "artifact" of sorts. In chemistry, we still have the phlogiston theory which anyone can go back to if they tire of the oxidation theory. We could go back but we do not. Yes, we should study it all historically, but not so that we can review past paradigms, rather, SO THAT WE CAN SEE THE PUZZLES AS THEY FACED THE SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATORS OF THOSE EPOCHS--and learn thereby something about how scientific revolutions come about: <strong>A SCIENTIFIC REVOLUTION GIVES ONE A NEW PARADIGM WHICH KUHN HIMSELF ADMITS IS ABSOLUTELY INCOMMENSURABLEE WITH EARLIER PARADIGMS.</strong> Seeing that, perhaps we can impelled to challenge our present paradigms. In any case, however, we cannot forget what we have now seen. Having seen it, it is IMPOSSIBLE to go back and act like we have not seen it. Once we catch on that the sun does not really rise, we cannot in all honesty go back and pretend that it does. It does NOT. We are moving around the sun, not it around us. The geocentric and heliocentric models cannot co-exist, and not both of them are equally true or useful.</p>

<p><em><strong>There is no going back to the Flat Earth view (and its geocentric perspective), nor to the Phlogiston view, nor to Newtonian mechanics without at least acknowledging how Einstein has shown how Newton's view was at best incomplete. PERIOD.</strong></em><br /> <br /> I do not see a strict parallel with art history or photographic history. Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, there are some parallels, but science and art are just different enough that the parallels are less important than they might be.</p>

<p>What Kuhn is finally saying is not obvious, but it is this: we <em><strong>CANNOT</strong></em> go back in science. I cannot go back to phlogiston. It never existed. I cannot go back to the flat earth. It never <strong>WAS.</strong></p>

<p>But I can, if I want, go back to film, or to photographic plates, or to pinhole cameras. Some do. They can still do great art that way, if they want to. Again, some do. NOBODY is doing chemistry with the phlogiston model, or physics with the geocentric model or the unmodified Newtonian model of mechanics. IT CANNOT BE DONE. Having seen from a new perspective, we cannot act as if we have not seen what we clearly saw.</p>

<p>In science, that is, we can look back and get some insight from doing so, but we cannot <em><strong>go</strong></em> back--and still be doing science. In art or photography, <em><strong>WE CAN--</strong></em>and still be doing art or photography.</p>

<p>I hope that that makes some sense.</p>

<p>As for my <strong><em>No.one.knows.a.damn.thing.with.absolute.certainty, </em></strong>I was speaking of ultimate metaphysical views. That is yet another whole different ballgame. In that ballgame, we CANNOT know the truth about such things. That is the nature of claims about God. Oh, one can build a case, give one's reasons for or against believing in God v. not-God, dualism v. monism, etc., but finally WE CANNOT KNOW--not in this life, anyway, and we cannot know for sure if there will be another life. Studying history will show us how ridiculous the Six-Day Creation story is, but it will not answer, "What was there before the Big Bang?"</p>

<p>I hope that that makes some sense, and that you understand why I feel compelled to make the points I just made. If not, well, so be it. . . .</p>

<p>I bring a mind trained in math and sciences and philosophy to these discussions, and--believe it or not--there is something to be gained in having a scientific/philosophical way of looking at the world--even to looking at art.</p>

<p>I will not be trying to prove that last statement here, but I am pretty sure that it is true.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<p> </p>

<blockquote>

<p>Lannie. . . I've said everything - and more - that you have said and writing endlessly about in this thread in one single image</p>

 

</blockquote>

<p>Have you indeed?!</p>

<p>Phil, saying that to me is like doing an extended exercise in obscurantism.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<blockquote>

<p>When making photographs, we have to see, think, and feel photographically first before we can begin to apply our photographs philosophically.</p>

 

</blockquote>

<p>Well, if you really do have "a scientific/philosophical way of looking at the world," then perhaps you can explain your quote three lines above. </p>

<p>That is, please give me a scientific, philosophical, or otherwise rational explication of what on earth you mean by making reference to seeing, thinking, feeling "photographically." Otherwise, I shall have to conclude that that kind of obscurantism gets us nowhere.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<blockquote>

<p>Yes, I have. <a href="http://www.philipsweeck.com/gallery-vi/9uio3598n2s7etdvo6pfn4w06jdxow" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Here it is again</a>. A photograph. It's the best way I've got to communicate the inexpressible.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>I saw it the first time, Phil. You are becoming more obscure to me, not less.</p>

<p>Are you suggesting that we should just start posting photos, as on the "No Words" forum?</p>

<p>If it is inexpressible, then. . . ?</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<p>I am still waiting for a definition of "seeing, thinking, feeling photographically."</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<p>Well, if it is inexpressible, then going mute is the way to go, I guess.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<p>Ain't this a great thread?!</p>

<p>Before long, we won't need words! We will just swap pictures. </p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<blockquote>

<p>Lannie, please no dissertations on the difference between a fruit and vegetable. Thanks. ;-) --Fred G., 2:54 p.m., July 14, 2016</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Hold on, Phil. I am trying to scrounge up photos of a fruit and a vegetable for Fred.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<blockquote>

<p>Before long, we won't need pictures! We will just swap doctorates.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Phil, all of my diplomas (after high school) are still in their original mailing tubes in my underwear drawer (my drawers drawer). That's no joke.</p>

<p>Hold on a bit longer, please. . .</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<blockquote>

<p>Kinda like the <a href="http://matthewpillsbury.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/mona-lisa-louvre.jpg" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Mona Lisa</a>.</p>

 

</blockquote>

<p>Hey, watch your mouth, Phil! That is fine art.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<blockquote>

<p>A truly good book teaches me better than to read it. I must soon lay it down, and commence living on its hint. What I began by reading, I must finish by acting. --Thoreau, thanks to Phil S.</p>

 

</blockquote>

<p>On my next photographic trip into the mountains, I am going to deliberately fail to take my camera. Then I will have all those great memories without the need for post-processing.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<p><a href="/photo/8115793&size=lg"><strong> [LINK]</strong></a></p>

Norman +1

<p>Leaving one's diploma in the tube, as Lannie mentions, is I think a commendable 'revolutionary' or evolutionary action. One turns the page on past successes and seeks new challenges, much like Thoreau in not stopping with just the book. I took my last one out of the envelope, put it somewhere and never hung it anywhere. Last month I took my dusty thesis from a top shelf and thumbed through it in curiosity, the last time I looked at it being more than 40 years ago. I didn't understand much of its content, but back then it was part of a page turn in a humble existence. </p>

<p> </p>

<p>Arthur, that is your photo that I linked to just above. Thank you!</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<p>Donald, is your +1 for Normal Rockwell or Naffington, both of whom appear here?</p>

<p>Fred; Naffington<br>

Speaking of degrees, I keep that hidden. The school wasrated as noncompetitive buy it was worse than that. As one professor said, he enjoyed reading graffiti the bathroom stall because it had an intellectual flavor. But when he only sees Fords suck etc then he saw no hope for our school. I told him I agree, Fords were not that bad.</p>

<p><a href="https://artblart.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/garry-winogrand-coney-island-new-york-ca-1952-web.jpg">LINK</a> (<em>Garry Winogrand, Coney Island, NY, 1952</em>)<br>

This is a good one that illustrates what he's talking about with regard to photographing to see what things look like photographed.</p>

<p>Beyond what this is a picture of, there's a resonance here for me. It doesn't necessarily make me feel the way I feel when I'm at the beach, but it does have resonance, which is different from representing or causing actually similar feelings to beach feelings. </p>

<p>So, I consider what he said. The importance of what things look like photographed. When he was there, I doubt the boy on the left looked so dark or black. And yet because of position and atmospheric conditions that's how he looks photographed. What resonates with me is the boy's exuberant expression seemingly overriding that darkness. It's a shadow that's not scary, that's not anxiety producing, that's not a downer. And the stilled spray of the wave water, being the lightest thing in the frame, would have had very different energy and impact in the moment. Here, it draws my eye and contrasts so well with the two protagonists' bodies. It's almost like a theatrical spotlight but not one that's directly on them. It draws me to them.</p>

<p>Interestingly, probably the thing here that does give me the most beachlike feeling is the vast <em>surface</em> of the water. That does seem to be what looking at the horizon looks and feels like. And something I think becomes more noticeable in the photo than it would be at the beach itself is the highlight area throughout the center part of the water (not sure if there may be some technical vignetting at play here or if there are more natural causes for that). Because of the scene being isolated and framed, and all periphery gone even if suggested, that area of highlighted water just seems to be a little more profound than it would be in person. It feels more like a thing than it would were my eye scanning the scene, watching the frolicking bathers. Not to mention he didn't seem to mind putting his main subjects smack dab in the center of the composition, which works so well because of the way the rest of the composition relates to my eye. People frolicking in the shallow beach water don't often look so big to me. But it's kind of cool how they dominate the frame, create such a sense of negative space, and even with their backs to me wind up inviting me into the scene rather than pushing me out.</p>

<p>Phil, I do appreciate those photos as examples. I also like the book that you cited.</p>

<p>Your own website is one of the best I have seen.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<blockquote>

<p>This is a good one that illustrates what he's talking about with regard to photographing to see what things look like photographed.</p>

 

</blockquote>

<p>Thanks for the link, Fred. I have to say that "photographing to see what things look like photographed" seemed at first like a tautology (or something very close to it), but upon reflection that might not be a bad way to conceptualize and sort out what might be worthy of shooting. It might also come to serve as a motivating principle, if that makes any sense: "I wonder how that would look like photographed. Hm. . ."</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>