The Stream

Interesting composition, Jeff, the colors, the disarming simplicity. This image to me represents the new season growing out of the murk of the past year, with the surface of the water representing not the water as it is, but the sky, the optimism through which prism we must view the present, if we hope to survive it.

 

On a separate note, because I have seen your discussion with Jack McRitchie in the snow plow image of yours, I am not necessarily of the school that believes there is anything extraordinary about the ordinary. In other words, an image like this has value to me because it evokes a certain feeling, be it calm, spring, change, permanency, or any of several possible interpretations. But, as a presentation of the ordinary sight of a reed growing out of the water, does it have any real intrinsic value?

 

You did reference Lee Friedlander, but his work, while a rebellion against the proliferation of method over substance, gets to be tedious in its own way, for how can one really satirize the army while carrying an infantryman's rifle? Friedlander's greatest work, IMO, was his book titled "Work", which I think you should see because in his effort to present ordinary people at work, he captures so much of the tedium and boredom and dreaminess one sees at the office when one steps outside of ones self to take an objective look at who we are.

 

In other words, his best work was not that which poked fun at the conventions, but one which took a serious look at that which is, and I think Friedlander, who wrote the iconoclastic "Sticks and Stones", a sendup of architectural photography, must have discovered this side of himself by accident.

 

I hope I made a little sense.

I agree with you in part. This may sound a bit lofty, but part of the reason I take photographs is to force myself to notice things. The world whizzes by too quickly, and I often have my eyes closed because of the speed. I find that when I'm wandering around with a camera, I actually slow down and take time to look around. I actually see things.

 

 

Lee Friedlander may have had a higher goal to thumb his nose at conventional photography by taking pictures of the hum-drum. I don't find his work to lose interest over time, though. There's something about his way of composing pictures that makes sense to me, makes something flicker in head, and I keep returning to it.

 

 

My recent pictures are of the ordinary, as you've pointed out. And it's my way of bucking my own tendency to wait for those mountaintop, sunset, perfect flower, "all has to be perfect" moments and in doing so miss out on opportunities to notice the ordinary. I would argue with you that the ordinary can be quite extraordinary, depending on how it is captured. I don't think I'm hitting any home runs lately, but it's good batting practice. If that makes any sense.

 

 

I like the stuff I've recently posted more than some of the prettier pretensions I posted in the past. I'm always all over the map, though, so I'll probably return to the artsy B&W's and eat some humble pie.

I love the most that little disturbance in the water which makes connection between world of reflection and world of reflected reality ....then is also nice that we all know where JeffS's aye was looking at....:)

Excellent, beautiful done.

 

Best regards.

 

Alberto

great and especially original abstract, I like the way, you're being adventurous to create such a painting-like frame from the natural environment

No, I did not mean to imply that the ordinary as art form is any less exalted than the extraordinay, merely that the ordinary AS itself remains ordinary. My point about Friedlander is the same point I make about the fauvists or any other art form that is a response to other norms or conventions. I have seen Friedlander's "Nudes". It is a complete satire of Edward Weston's Charis Weston series, as Friedlander completely eschews any concerns with lighting and composition of Weston to merely show snapshots of naked women. His most famous subject, of course, was Madonna, and if you look at the pictures, here, http://www.madonnashots.net/0-78-friedlander1.html, you will see that the images more resemble Penthouse than art nude. Nothing wrong with Penthouse, of course, if that is your thing, but I think Friedlander's style cheapened not just the subject, but the art itself. This is quite different, of course, from the street photography of, say, Lisette Model or even Diane Arbus, for the goal of those two was the pursuit of the freaky and extraordinary, while Friedlander's mien, IMO, is to rebel against the convention of Adams and Weston with their overemphasis on the method. To give you an example of someone who was an iconoclast, yet tasteful, look at the works of Henri Cartier-Breson or even Dorothea Lange or Walker Evans.

Tatjana: This was the calm after a little shower, and I waited to get a little hint of ripples on the water. Thanks for noticing.

 

 

Alberto: Thank you so much.

 

 

Alex: The reflection of the trees just seemed to work. That little reed was a nice scene-stealer.

 

 

Emmanuel: I understand what you're saying. Indeed, a lot of Friedlander's work doesn't thrill me particularly when he was trying to make a point rather than taking good pictures. But some of his work does thrill me, still. The three you mentioned at the end are all favorites. Evans in particular inspires me. My point was that I'm not rebelling against some outward idea of what is photograph-worthy, but more against an internalized one that waits and waits for something extraordinary and never snaps the shutter. Or always leaves the camera at home because "I'm not going anywhere special."

Jeff, This image is appealing to me for its simplicity . The ripple, reflection of the sky, submerged log and the dancing reed have an aesthetic appeal.

>I'm not rebelling against some outward idea of what is photograph-worthy,

>but more against an internalized one that waits and waits for something

>extraordinary and never snaps the shutter.

You are not alone, brother!

You CERTAINLY are not alone, Jeff! I've found myself taking more pictures of ordinary and mundane things lately. I don't post them because I figure nobody really wants to see them (my every day shots aren't as creative or original as yours), but it does help me 'see'. I step out of myself for an instant, and I find myself looking at everything as through a lens, even when I don't have my camera with me. It's a wonderful thing actually. You expressed it so well. I haven't been able to exactly pinpoint why I love photography so much.....but you hit the nail on the head. As for this image, an ordinary subject, yes.....but with your unique eye that makes it an interesting and worthy photo.

I knew I was going to get dragged into this discussion. I hate it in a way because it's like cleaning out the hall closet where you've been dumping everything you can't bear to throw away but have no immediate use for. It's a chore, not something I really enjoy because I know it's going to take a good chunk of time and I'm actually going to have to expend some energy cranking up this lawn-mower motor that serves as my brain.

 

The ordinariness of things; they're all around us all the time, things, and most of the time we sleep walk right through the whole affair, looking for something that's special or meaningful. Every year there is something called O-hanami here in Japan, which means cherry blossom viewing. People go out, cameras in one hand, beer in the other to look at the flowering cherry trees in late March or early April. The whole affair has the trappings of a kind of ritual with everyone sighing and remarking on the beauty of the season; I remember one day standing in front of my old apartment during cherry blossom season. There was a long line of cherry trees on my block and they were all in gorgeous flower. A breeze was stirring the blossoms and they were drifting down like snow. And through this gentle pink snowstorm came running a salaryman, his tie flapping over his shoulder, late for work and oblivious to the splendor that was raining down on him. The image is still in my mind. I think we are like that most of the time, oblivious to the wonders that surround us.

 

Things are what they are. If you believe the world is shit, it is. If you believe it's a fairy tale filled with princesses and knights in shining armor and dragons, it is. We are the ones who assign the importance or meaning or wonder to what we see around us. I remember the old zen proverb "if it's raining, don't run because it's raining everywhere." We are the rain; we are the sun. I firmly believe that if you demand the everyday world yield up incredible images, it will. There's no need to go anywhere, really. It's about seeing what's there and seeing implies a level of consciousness, of directed and non-judgemental vision, at least to me. It's all right in front of us, like a banquet but sometimes I think we'd rather read the menu than taste the food.

 

Finally, I did a little research into Lee Friedlander. Although I was familiar with his name, I really didn't know his work. After viewing some of his photographs, there is no doubt in my mind that this is a man who has the capacity to see. His work is extraordinary in my opinion - not all of it - but enough for me to understand that there is much more to his work than simply a revolt against some established concepts or schools of photography. I'm not saying that he wasn't radical - I simply don't know enough about his personal history - but from his photographs I can say without hesitation that this is a man with a unique and highly personal approach who has the ability to see and grasp the parade of people, places and events that come before his lens.

 

That's it. I'm finished and glad of it. I feel that I have at least done my duty to myself.

Amal: This seemed to have an Asian sensibility to me with just a few items scattered here and there, somewhat bare-boned, but still saying something. It's always difficult to comment on what I like about my own work without sounding rather pompous, but I only post pieces that I would still like if they were taken by someone else, if that makes any sense.

 

 

Bulent: Yep. Amen.

 

 

Christal: As I sift through why I take pictures, it really feels like it's more about the experience of taking them than the final act of producing something. When I do find the time to shoot and process photos, I get lost in the act. I have to admit that I'm trapped in a rather ordinary life and I have to work with what I've been given.

What you've summarized rings true. The sheer ordinariness of life, of getting up and going in the morning, of all the mundane tasks that float by every day like a mindless conveyor belt, of packing it up at night and starting all over the next day, it all seems more and more worthy of attention to me. As you said, it's a matter of perception. Those "mountaintop, marvel sunset, God-rays breaking through the storm clouds" photos are few and far between. I find I waste time waiting for them and become less creative in doing so.

 

 

A good cook can make a good meal out of a few ingredients. A great chef can make something spectacular out of nothing. I think I'm a good cook with aspirations. When I'm in the mood to take photos, I find myself more and more raiding the pantry to see what's there rather than running off the store.

 

 

Some of your finest are those shots that seem built out of nothing. I can call up some key images of yours in which the ordinary seems to align in a special way, but then it's gone. Great photos, at least the ones that thrill me, are those that capture something real, something both tangible and spiritual, something more than they are.

 

 

I rarely enter into debates about what is art and what is photography because they tend to be tiresome and bog down the fun of creating with the trappings of thought. If I had to question whether something is art every time I hit the shutter button, I'd pack it all in. To me, the journey seems more important than the arrival, even if there are a million ordinary shots along the way.

 

 

I'm glad you looked into Friedlander's work. I think he had something important to say, not only at a higher rambunctious level, but more important to me, at a life is always interesting level.

Truth be told....most of us have rather ordinary lives with a few standout moments occurring from time to time. I guess that's what distinguishes some of us.....we make something extraordinary out of the ordinary....by creating, sharing, questioning, learning, stretching ourselves, and continuing to grow.....and then we pass along those qualities to our children. Don't under-estimate your role (I don't think you do!) :-) You are a wonderful contributor to PN, and I know I'll always find something interesting when I click on your page. Now I'm going to check out this Friedlander guy. :-)

Interesting thread developed in your photo I like Jacks point of view which is similar to yours Jeff, about the ordinary mundane life,which is in general part of most human life.

 

 

As photographers it depends what we are doing with the ordinary when we have our camera in hand. I think that both of you know to sort out most of the time what we call here (hard to translate...) sorting out the "wheat seeds from the chaff" , and that is what is so important .

 

 

With all respect to Friedlander and all the others ( I read now the American history of photography ,by Miles Orvell.Oxford university ) we can learn a lot and be inspired, but initially we need to develop OUR sight, vision and observation . It is a different era with a different technology, and the digital era makes it harder to create and express oneself in a unique self expression ,which I think you are doing it well.

 

 

As Christal said, both of you are a real addition and contributors to PN, as are some others that I follow and enjoy.

 

 

Jeff, this one is a colored, a bit different from your B/W this one

 

 

http://photo.net/photodb/photo?photo_id=9721571

 

 

but again a beautiful melange of the mundane and imagination.

 

Jeff, I looked at this earlier, when it was first posted but it was late and I was too tired to comment. I seem to remember a similar version of this in black and white? My aging brain doesn't retain things as well as it used to.

 

I wanted to say that I like the way you shoot things from your own unique perspective. So often in your work there is much more going on than what you see at first. To me, this one seemed at my first glance to be a photo of the sky, but then the trees are upside down. The blades of vibrant, fresh grass seem to stab into that refected sky saying "Look at me, I'm the reality". The lovely little ripple in the water says the same thing. Finally, in the lower right, when my eyes are leaving the image, I see a bit of transparency. I see what lies beneath the glass like surface, a leaf and some other debris. This seems like a statement in imagery about life, nature, the way we look at the world around us. I don't know if that was what you intended or not but I do find this interesting.

 

Best wishes,

 

Linda

Christal: Ordinary ain't bad. My ordinary photos have more staying power, I think.

 

 

Pnina: This is a color version from the same pond, although a different photo. I'm learning more and more how to sort the wheat from the chaff, photographically. I don't think I post flippantly as I once did, nor do I critique emptily. Thanks so much for your constant comments and support as I fumble along.

 

 

Linda: I was taken with your comment, and as I mentioned to Pnina, this is a variation of the same scene. This time the color seemed important enough to retain. I also liked that this one had multiple layers, a world above the water, a world below the water, a world intruding through the water, and the water itself.

 

 

Do you remember that point in parenting where you felt you no longer had two brain cells to rub together? Ya. It's sort of like that.

Beautifully framed, very simple shots. I think my favorite element is the little ripples we see and the bright green of the plant growing out of the water oh and there's a root. I'm going to have to say this is a deceptively simple shot, because while it seems like you've focused on a very small bit of territory, there is a lot going on here.