WEEKLY DISCUSSION 2.0 #13 - Imogen Cunningham

<p>This week's photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://beingsakin.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/3_imogen_cunningham_magnolia_blossom.jpg">Imogen Cunningham, <em>Magnolia Blossom</em>, 1925</a></p>

<p>This iconic flower photo by Cunningham has a sense of art nouveau in its entwined lines and shapes, deepened by the translucent layers and its architectural-like rendering. She moves toward modernism with this view of the elegant magnolia, the sharper, sensual edges of the flower like cut glass or jewels. There is delicacy in the shading and layering, her virtuosity of craft showing in the finer details she highlights in her subject.</p>

<blockquote>

<p><em>"The reason during the 1920s that I photographed plants was that I had three children under the age of 4 to take care of, so I was cooped up. I had a garden available and I photographed them indoors. Later when I was free I did other things."</em> —Imogen Cunningham</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Earlier, she had embraced the dreamier and more lyrical Pictorialist style, as so many photographers did, in works such as this controversial and harshly-criticized nude portrait of her then husband, Roi Partridge.</p>

<p><a href="http://www.pifmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/mountain-portrait-imogen6.jpg">Mt Rainier Nude Portrait, 1915</a></p>

<p>Her bohemian lifestyle was noteworthy in an era in which it was groundbreaking for a female photographer to be at the forefront of an emerging aesthetic let alone daring to photograph and show an evocative nude male. Though he appears to be walking or standing on water, he is actually standing on a floe of ice in the lake high up on the mountain. This was a testament to their abandon, willingness, and love of art and nature.</p>

<p>She would later co-establish the f/64 group of photographers along with Edward Weston, Ansel Adams, and others, wanting to move photography away from the soft focus painterly qualities of Pictorialism and toward a more objective and uniquely photographic realism. She would come to be critical of her earlier work and later said of her Mt. Rainier nudes:</p>

<blockquote>

<p><em>“They are from what I call my ‘dream period,’ when I … thought I understood poetry.”</em> —Imogen Cunningham</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Cunningham would become known for photographing a wide variety of subjects, excelling in her floral work and particularly in portraiture.</p>

<p><a href="http://www.imaging-resource.com/ee_uploads/news/2335/edward_weston_and_margrethe__1922.jpg">Edward Weston and Margrethe Mather, 1922</a></p>

<p>She shot the two so poignantly as their intense love affair was in its last throes. To me, this is as much a narrative and emotional tale as it is a double portrait.</p>

<p>She also delved into industrial photography in that f/64 tradition of the search for the stark realism that a <em>"more purely photographic"</em> approach could offer. The photography being explored by this group was still imaginative and seemed to show the life of the external form of its subjects but without what they saw as the "evasiveness" that Pictorialism's mimicry of the qualities of painting had earlier offered.</p>

<p><a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/b0/55/d5/b055d5353075ca895de4da2bb03e8bc3.jpg">Fageol Factory, Oakland, 1934</a></p>

<p>Cunningham was ecclectic and seemed to have as much if not more passion for photographs and photographing as she did for her subject matter. When asked what she liked to photograph, she responded with, <em>"Anything that could be exposed to light." </em>Her work included photo essays and photojournalism.</p>

<p><a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/a5/6c/bf/a56cbf198a96e324cb8df0260970a0e2.jpg">Boy Selling Newspapers, 1950</a></p>

<p> </p>

<p>"harshly-criticized"? They did not like the lighting? All of these have an appeal to me but I do not have the ability to verbalize why. 1915? great piece especially considering the state of the art. How many women photographers were there back then. A great photographer when you can produce great photos regardless of subject matter</p>

<p>I much prefer her pictorialist style to her later work. But I am drawn to this type of photography anyway. <em>Boy Selling Newspapers</em> is dry, staid. <em>Mt Rainer Nude Portrait </em>is simply gorgeous. </p>

<p>Interesting how she switched her taste from soft qualities to becoming one of the f/64 along with Ansel Adams. Her favorite was portraiture which I have not seen much of.<br /> By the way that shot on Mt Rainier was 1914 not 1915 but what is a year to someone who lived actively into her nineties</p>

<p>She was artist-in-residence at the San Francisco Art Institute when I was there in the early '70s. She was quite charming and loved inviting students to her cottage for tea and conversation.<br>

I admired her floral work more than her portraiture, and spent endless hours shooting in people's gardens. </p>

 

<p>Charles<br>

She once said that you can not teach photography. People were either good photographers or not. You could only give them suggestions. Did she feel this way when you crossed paths with her?</p>

<p>I got to spend little time with her. I don't recall her having regular "classes" but always gathered a dozen or so students to talk. I don't remember her looking at student's photos, but that was a long time ago.</p>

 

<p>Amazing how looking at her work throughout her extended lifetime with long periods of very different modes of photography stands in contrast to Francesco Woodman's flash of a life. With Imogen Cunningham we have the privilege to choose between very different kinds of photography: botanic, portraitures, industrial.</p>

<p>Personally I see the force of her portraits (the hands are maybe the central subject for her) like the one of <a href="http://static1.squarespace.com/static/54a99278e4b0b6dc3e1a76b0/t/54eee500e4b098d9755d5480/1424942341791/">Ben Butler</a> (?) from 1910, or <a href="https://www.cs.washington.edu/public_files/imogen3.jpg">Frida Kahlo</a> (1931) although she is quoted for saying later in life, that: "<em>When you do portraits professionally it's not a desire, it's for money</em>". Maybe many of her flower photos too ! After all "desire" plays a role when it comes to creativity. It is only, as I see them, when the abstract in her flower shots comes to the more, that her vision comes alive, <a href="https://ericahaleece.files.wordpress.com/2013/12/20131207-015908.jpg">like here</a>.</p>

<p>Here is a beautiful <a href="http://yama-bato.tumblr.com/post/15517041334/photograph-of-imogen-cunningham-ca-1975-by-mimi">shot of the dear old lady in 1980</a> (Mimi Jacobs, another Bay photographer)</p>

<p>Sorry the abstract I linked to is actually not by Cunningham but by Sonya Noskowiak as far as I see. I'll look for abstractions from Cunningham like <a href="https://wonderfuloldthings.files.wordpress.com/2013/09/agave-design-2-1920s.jpg">this one </a> or <a href="https://www.cs.washington.edu/public_files/imogen2.jpg">this one</a>..</p>

<p>I do not know if it was industrial per se. It is an example of a sudden change from a softness when she became part of a group called f/64 which centered on sharp focus and contrast (constructionism?) which actually was underway in Europe. Ansel Adams was also one of this group. Ansel once said something to the effect that she likes to explore new avenues and she said that he was just nucely saying that she gets bored easily and likes to jump around a lot.</p>

<p>Donald, I think she can be said to have photographed industrial sites (often referred to as industrial landscapes) in the same way she can be said to have photographed botanicals or portraits and in the same way she can be said to have photographed a series of Mt. Rainier nudes. While her portraits straddle her vision from Pictorialism through Modernism, her Mt. Rainier nudes were pretty clearly in the Pictorialist tradition and her industrial shots clearly in the more Modernist tradition, those of the f/64 group. While she, as a member and founder of f/64, was clearly moving toward a more realist and less romantic photographic approach, she did focus on industrial landscapes for a time. Yes, she was eclectic in choosing her subject matter, but I would still refer to her having a botanicals interest and, later, an industrial interest.</p>

<p>How do I determine what was driving what? In other words, did her move toward a more stark photographic realism lead her to industrial landscapes? Were they just a good outlet for her change in stylistic approach or did she have an interest in industry "per se" that went beyond her photographic change of voice at the time? I think the two are probably so intertwined that it would be hard to draw clear distinctions. Industry was clearly a good choice for this more hard-edged and realist view of the world. But so would have been suburban homes or big-city high-rises or park benches. She chose industrial landscapes just as earlier she had chosen flowers.</p>

<p>Her industrial shots represent, to me, more of an advancement into realism. With her flowers, there's more layering and the translucence of flowers carries with it an imaginative nuance quite different from the metallic and reflective surfaces of the factory captured in bright sunlight. Yet, the sense of geometry in each is there, the play of shape and line. And, as I said, the flower seems to take on an architectural quality that the factory obviously has. Yet the close-ups of the flowers carry with them an intimacy not necessarily felt in her industrial work, which moves much more toward a kind of objectivity but not one without imaginative possibilities as well. Both the flowers and the factories have that significant quality of abstraction, even while the subject matter is also meaningful and literal.</p>

<p>Cunningham's <em>Magnolia Blossom</em> has an energy to it, like flowing fabric on a dancer. It (and her work with calla lilies and other flowers) seems to anticipate some of her work with Martha Graham. I also see some likeness to 1920s women's hair styles and hats, especially in the tight curls of the carpels, although the billowing petals may be more like the full skirts of the previous decade.<br>

<br />Close ups of flowers prompt comparison to O'Keeffe's paintings of similar subjects, which she was producing around the same time. I wonder if some of the same things influenced both Cunningham and O'Keeffe, or if they had any influence on each other.<br>

<br />What is it that makes this photo different than the myriad photos of flowers (which are occasionally derided as a group) we see on PN? It might be that it's in black and white, the lighting and contrast and sharpness are less aggressive, and there are no drops of dew. There seems to be something in her approach that goes beyond those things, though, that is hard for me to describe.<br>

<br />I like the first quote by Cunningham that Fred posted, about having a garden handy so that is what she photographed. Occasionally that has been my way of working, returning to the agaves and kale in my back yard. Cunningham's work with plants is impressive because of her use of shadows and negative spaces, such as in https://s3.amazonaws.com/classconnection/709/flashcards/3773709/png/55-1494AD3EF4F00D0796F.png</p>

<p>Once again, Fred has pointed up the work of a highly valuable photographer.<br>

Anybody who can take a shot like "Magnolia Blossom", technically impeccable and aesthetically superbly crafted, more or less automatically gets my vote. No doubt Cunningham was aided in her mastery of the technical side of photography by her study as a chemist. She appears to have spent her working life of photography in pursuit of lyrical beauty and been highly successful in doing so – perhaps a hint as to her character is given by her participation in the making of the picture "Imogen and Twinka at Yosemite" by Judy Dater, with clear tongue-in-cheek humour. All in all, one has the feeling that Cunningham's art helped in a small way to make the world a slightly better place.</p>

<p>I prefer her during her "dream period" when she believed to understand poetry. Later on, in my eyes she became a figure in her milieux, highly respected without doubt, as a character and inspirator for generations of photographers around her. I find more matter for inspiration in photos like the ones of Eikoh Hosoe or even Francesca Woodman.</p>

<p>Yes, I'm in awe when admiring her magnolia blossom and her nude shots catch my attention most of which are women and shot with a vision that resembles Hosoe - but they are not Hosoe and do not go beyond beautiful bodies with only hints of poetry, as far as I see them.<br>

The lonely man, Fred chose, among all the nudes she did, stays fairly marginal among her works. Here is <a href="http://41.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ks2p9kvki11qztk1wo1_500.jpg">another sho</a>t of the same person, the same years and the same place, and here <a href="https://artblart.files.wordpress.com/2013/01/imogen-cunningham-roi-on-the-dipsea-trail-3-1918.jpg">another male nude</a> (1918), again prudently seen from behind - and far, far from the killing fields in Northern France during the same period.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>Close ups of flowers prompt comparison to O'Keeffe's paintings of similar subjects, which she was producing around the same time.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Interesting consideration, Mark. When I compare the two visually, I see vibrancy in O'Keeffe's flowers and delicacy in Cunningham's. I would describe O'Keeffe's floral painting as bold and patterned and Cunningham's photos of flowers as layered and concerned with shape. Where color comes to the fore in O'Keeffe's work, texture comes to the fore in Cunningham's work. Some of this, probably, can be chalked up to the difference between the two mediums and the difference between color and black and white. But, for me, it would be a mistake to chalk it all up to those things, because I think the two women's visions and concerns are different and I think that's evident in O'Keeffe's boldness and vibrancy compared to Cunningham's delicacy. <br /> <br /> That being said, I don't mean to suggest there's no degree of delicacy in O'Keeffe's work and no concern with pattern in Cunningham's. There is overlap, of course. But I do think their overall aesthetic approaches show some interesting differences.<br /> <br /> Though contemporaries, they didn't seem to know each other or even know much about each other until the later years.<br /> <br /> We probably shouldn't mention both these important women artists without bringing in Tina Modotti, who shares with Cunningham a love for photographing flowers (though her work goes well beyond flowers) often with a more graphic touch and shares with her as well a significant connection to Edward Weston with whom Modotti became lovers. <br /> <br /> Here is Modotti's famous <a href="https://allaboutmonochrome.files.wordpress.com/2015/07/phoca_thumb_l_001-alcatraces.jpg">TWO CALLAS, 1925</a>, the same year Cunningham photographed her Magnolia linked to in the OP and just a few years before Cunningham photographed her own <a href="http://www.moma.org/media/W1siZiIsIjIyNDA0NiJdLFsicCIsImNvbnZlcnQiLCItcmVzaXplIDIwMDB4MjAwMFx1MDAzRSJdXQ?sha=f007b7149751456f">TWO CALLAS, 1929</a>. Not only are the perspectives vastly different in each of their calla photos, giving me such different feelings when I look at each, the whole tone of the photos are different, the Modotti being more graphic and having a Modigliani-like tallness and slenderness, the Cunningham having more mystery and overall softness. What softness there seems to be in the Modotti is at the end of a long travel of the eye up the stems of the flowers, which play such a crucial role in the composition, in contrasting with the softer flower at the top, and helping to lead our eye movement. I actually find a very "masculine" side to these Modotti callas.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Fred, your comparison of O'Keeffe's and Cunningham's florals rings true. I see many of O'Keeffe's flowers as idealizations and abstractions, whereas Cunningham's had a more realistic look, more concerned with detail and texture. The two artists may not have known each other, but they had Edward Weston in common - Weston apparently met Cunningham in 1920, and O'Keeffe in 1922. Influences probably flowed in all directions. There is something of Cunningham in Weston's close-ups of vegetables, and in his industrial landscape: http://www.geh.org/taschen/m197400610065.jpg<br>

<br />It is interesting to compare Modotti's callas with Cunningham's. I did not immediately see the masculine aspect of Modotti's <em>Two Callas</em>, because I first saw the (as you said) "Modigliani-like tallness and slenderness", which to me, along with their uterine appearance, suggested femininity. But in going back to it with masculinity in mind, I now see that, too. Maybe it's their somewhat rougher contrasty look, or their lean, spartan appearance, as opposed to Cunningham's softer, zaftig callas, that give them a masculine quality.</p>

 

<p>" actually not by Cunningham but by Sonya Noskowiak"</p>

<p>I don't know Anders you have got yourself in a tither of betwixt and between;)</p>

<p>Talented Artist who explores photography in all its many facets. Not a Artist who has just found a successful formula to work with but has the talent/creativity and desire to explore photography as a whole.</p>

<p>I think true creative talent walks many paths...Leonardo Da Vinci comes to mind.</p>

<p>"I think true creative talent walks many paths...Leonardo Da Vinci comes to mind."<br>

I totally agree Allen, but it does not make you into a Leonardo Da Vinci to walk into many artistic paths. I appreciate many of the pictures of her's, and especially those from the early years which have survived the wear of time, but apart from sharing the interest for shooting flowers like numerous photographers around her she does not reach the spheres of the best of O'Keefe or Modotti. She could have got much inspiration from Tina Modotti and her close relationships to Weston and Kahlo sharing not only artistic ambitions, but also political and social engagement, a life as activist. Cunningham shot some very beautiful photos of flowers, but Tina Modotti did so much more with<a href="https://peelslowlyandseeblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/roses.jpeg"> flowers</a> - and <a href="https://peelslowlyandseeblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/hands-resting.jpg">hands</a>. </p>

<p>For me, you just have to look at Cunningham's <a href="https://beingsakin.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/3_imogen_cunningham_magnolia_blossom.jpg">magnolia</a>, side by side with Modotti's <a href="https://allaboutmonochrome.files.wordpress.com/2015/07/phoca_thumb_l_001-alcatraces.jpg">two callas</a> to admire the difference between a f/64 type of shot and print and genuine photographic poetry. Cunningham was certainly a very skilled photographer all her life but something was lacking for her to be admitted to climb parnassus. </p>

<p>Tina Modotti's still life is a good example of a transcendent image compared to the less adventurous example of Mrs. Cunningham. It may not be fair to compare two different approaches based on two images, but the singular comparison is a strong one. It would be of interest to see more photos from Ms. Modotti.</p>

<p>Photos by Tina Modotti are easy to find on the net. Here is an epitaph by Pablo Neruda in her honor after her death in Mexico city in 1942:</p>

<dl><dd><em>Pure your gentle name, pure your fragile life,</em></dd><dd><em>bees, shadows, fire, snow, silence and foam,</em></dd><dd><em>combined with steel and wire and</em></dd><dd><em>pollen to make up your firm</em></dd><dd><em>and delicate being.</em></dd></dl>

<p>I think the Cunningham Magnolia Blossom and her Two Callas are incredibly poetic photos. It is true that Cunningham, both intellectually and artistically, was reacting against Pictorialism (including her own) and wanted a "straighter" photographic picture to emerge. I can see that particularly in the focus and straightforward perspective of her Magnolia Blossom. But that is not non-poetic. What I know of her ambition for photography and what the inadequacy of many of her own words on the subject may convey is nothing in comparison to what I see in her work and what I bet she felt as well. The poetry is, in great part, in her craft, in the gradation of tonalities, the sensuous lighting, the subtle and nuanced shading, all housed within the curved shapes of the petals, the layers patiently and slowly revealed, the wondrous translucence. I think Cunningham's work is transcendent in the extreme. She shows, in fact, that poetry transcends the accepted clichés of soft focus and extreme lyricism . . . that a camera, to paraphrase her, can find it anywhere light hits a surface.</p>

<p>I very much like Modotti's Callas, which I posted above. I don't think they compare poetically to Cunningham's. They are more graphic, less intimate, they are shown from a unique perspective but the beauty of the textures of the flowers themselves don't play near as important a role as in Cunningham's Magnolia. I love the way Modotti's Callas are shot up against the wall, drawing a contrast from the flow of the shapely flowers to the solidity and hardness of the wall. Such a contrast, to me, is less about poetry and more about impact. I can feel Cunningham's Magnolia. There is a sense in Cunningham not so much of adventure as much as touch.</p>

<p>I think Modotti was influenced by and probably more beholden to Weston than ever Cunningham was, who was a leader of the f/64 group. Cunningham seems to me the finer artist and the greater aesthetic trailblazer. Though she revolted against the status quo and her words and ideas about photography may, on the surface, sound like she was after something less poetic than previously, I don't think that's the case. I think her words don't adequately describe the way she photographically poeticized things and I think, despite how her words may sound, the poetry can be seen and felt in her photos. I think this may be a case where history books and various judgments about various photographic "schools" don't tell near the picture that viewing the work itself does.</p>

<p>I must disagree. It's the light of Modetti's flowers and their fragility that I find most impressive. The same flowers by Cunningham are very f64 in your face beautiful but cold and I find in that she is a sort of Ansel Adam's of horticulture. A technical rather than poetic perfection.</p>

<p> "I think this may be a case where history books and various judgments about various photographic "schools" don't tell near the picture that viewing the work itself does".<br>

An often repeated mantra here around, Fred ! As so often said, both have there place and role. If you overplay any of the two, you miss the essential.</p>

Anders, I would hope it would be clear to you by now that I believe knowledge of

photographic and art history is important and certainly helpful to an understanding, appreciation, and love of photos.

Taking a sentence of mine out of context and pretending it's some sort of mantra won't fly here. What I'm suggesting is

not that we shouldn't learn about various schools such as f/64. Didn't you notice that I included it in my intro and in follow

up posts? What I'm suggesting is not to let the term "straight photography," which is what the f/64 was advocating, lead us

into not still seeing poetry in work that didn't necessarily follow the poetic formulas of the past. As I read the quote I

included of Cunningham in the OP, she's saying as much. She thought her old way of photographing, the more dreamlike

images, were the only types of examples of photographic poetry. Now she has come to realize poetry is not restricted to

such types of images.

A further thought. I think Cunninghan, even with her more modernist approach, still utilizes some recognizable poetic

qualities in her approach to the flowers as well as her later even more f/64 photos. The mid 1920s were still very much of

an early transition period. Her sensual approach to shape and the layered translucence are still very much a part of her

earlier poetic inheritance. She was moving toward photographing differently but I think she maintained, certainly in these

flowers, her inner and innate poetic relationship to what she was seeing, regardless of how she was seeing it. I find I can see that in her work.