Surprised by what's in your own pictures: love it,or hate it?

[AlanKlein]

<p>Julie: This title of a photographer Peter Gasser's statement might be interesting to you. "A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tell you the less you know." He adds that "Only as time goes by do you finally arrive at something you were unconciously after - which is a wonderful surprise."</p>

<p>Maybe this is closer to what you want. Check his full statement and work - it's very nice.</p>

<p><a href="http://www.photography-now.net/contemporary/peter_gasser_statement.html">http://www.photography-now.net/contemporary/peter_gasser_statement.html</a></p>

[Julie H]

<p>Alan, that "secret about a secret" comes from Arbus, I think (not at all sure, but it's from *somebody* famous).</p>

<p>I believe that's still in Steve's frame of mind ("finally arrive" is not going to work; I'm interested in "never arrive").</p>

<p>Try this: imagine a cheetah chasing a gazelle. Is the gazelle "using" the cheetah? Has the gazelle (during the pursuit) ever "arrived" anywhere? Is the gazelle (during the pursuit) capable of "arriving"? Yet, there is a fantastic improvisation taking place by that gazelle.</p>

<p>Here is a pursuit with cheetah and gazelle(s):<br>

.</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>… Miles [Davis] intentionally supplied, withheld, and distorted performance information because of a quality of attention that such an environment evoked from his players, some of whom nevertheless recognized his motives and the dynamic perspective from which they derived: “Miles is a boxer, and he thinks like a boxer when he talks. If the other person is someone who might pick up on what he’s doing, it’ll be like parrying” (Keith Jarett, quoted in Keepnews 1987).</p>

<p>... Miles wanted a quality of attentive flexibility that would lift his players to the level of co-composing interpreters; that would encourage them to respond to the improvisational moment with his own alert flexibility. Communicating in an intentionally ambiguous and nonverbal fashion meant that Miles’s players were forced to engage with him by interpreting what they thought such communication demanded.</p>

<p>... Of course there is a paradox here: the semiotic technique Miles used to create the improvisational environment (ambiguity, visual and sonic cues, etc.) often had the secondary effect of centering the players’ attention upon him. So there is an implicit tension between Miles’s decentering actions and the players’ learned and habitual attention, which was itself heightened by these actions. Thus Miles was obliged to manipulate the ambiguity still further; as his players became familiar with certain cueing techniques, he constantly replaced those techniques. As a result, subtle sonic and visual gestures took on layers of associational meanings, in turn demanding further responses. But, as Schieffelin acknowledges, this is a profoundly involving and fertile space in which to create performances: “[such an] experience of inclusiveness and imbalance gives people little choice but to make their own moves of creative imagination if they are to make sense of the performance and arrive at a meaningful account of what is happening. In so doing … they complete the construction of its reality.” -- <em>from an essay by Chris Smith</em></p>

</blockquote>

<p>.</p>

[Julie H]

<p>Another example, to add to the Lex's archer and the ones of Gursky that I have verbally described:</p>

<p>Here is a whole regiment of Lex's archers (and a flying ballet), spotted in Paris in 2009 by Harvey Benge. (Or is Lex *really* Harvey-from-New-Zealand?) [ <a href="http://unrealnature.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/benge_paris2009.jpg">LINK</a> ]</p>

<p>If (big if ... ) you can look at this kind of picture differently (Gursky, Lex, and Benge); get close, let your eyes/mind take flight, then maybe you'll be "in" the pursuit.</p>

[Norma Desmond]

<p><em>"Maybe this is closer to what you want."</em></p>

<p>Not quite, Alan.</p>

<p>Maybe this will work:</p>

<p>Julie, we understand precisely, specifically, and absolutely, with the utmost degree of certainty what you mean. We agree wholeheartedly with everything you've said, everything you've quoted, and everything you think but haven't stated openly. Really. Really. Really. Period. Exclamation Point. No ifs ands or buts.</p>

<p>We are taking flight, in the pursuit, getting close but NOT arriving. We promise. We will never ever ever ever ever ever look again without surprise. Ever. Ever . . . Ever. In. The. World.</p>

[AlanKlein]

<p>Yeah. My head is starting to hurt. I take pictures as a way to relax, a creative diversion. Too much thinking reminds me of work. Just let it happen. Anyway, I retired in August. </p>

[Julie H]

<p>The Peter Gasser 'quote' is indeed taken from Diane Arbus -- word for word. Published in 1971 in <em>ArtForum</em> magazine, accompanying some of her photos. You'd think Gasser would give credit if he isn't even going to paraphrase.</p>

<p>In that same article, Arbus also writes:</p>

<p>"There is an old joke about a man who goes into a bar and he sees that the bartender has a banana in his ear so he says, Hey, you have a banana in your ear, and the bartender says, Speak louder please, I can't hear you because I've got a banana in my ear."</p>

<p>LOL</p>

[oclightwriter]

<p>Nothing that hasn't been said before, I suppose, but I've come to learn the holy grail of photography is previsualizing that amazing shot, even stalking it and willing onto it until it happens. Though an extra special and rewarding thing occurs when you see even more in it than you have initially intended. <br /> </p>