Norma Desmond

<p>Clive, I see creativity, at least within myself and I suspect in others as well, as a dialogue (and you mentioned self dialogue recently which I agree is important) or tension or some sort of counterpoint between exploring and honoring natural inclinations I have and a desire to break free of those. I think some of the authenticity of art, the sense of its being genuine and not phoned in, does come from being "true" to oneself, as you're suggesting, and also from exposing or revealing oneself, etc. At the same time, the risk can be vital and can involve leaping beyond where one is and sometimes daring to become someone new, something unfamiliar and unknown. Working against type might not be productive if it's done in a state of denial. But I think the more self aware I become, the more I can tempt myself also to be someone else. Maybe art and creativity, just as my own life, is as much about becoming as being, as much about who I have yet to be as who I am.</p>

<p>Alan, I'm not sure that we all want our 15 minutes of fame. I think many people print their photo because they like looking at them or want to share them with others. It's just generally been the thing to do with photos. Seeing them through to the print is a good way to share them with others. Sharing is not necessarily about wanting fame. It can be a simple act of kindness. As I mentioned above, I've always admired your giving prints away. I never thought you made prints or gave them away out of a desire for fame. It seemed authentically generous. I imagine many others are motivated by just as much generosity of spirit and couldn't care less about fame.</p>

<p><em>"I wonder if the effect would be anywhere near the same if we just viewed the picture without knowing the background and photographer."</em></p> <p>It's an interesting question and one worth considering. My response is that there's not much point in locking the barn door after the horse has bolted. I do know the background and the photographer, so I'm not sure why I'd be concerned with the hypothetical situation where I don't. Most documentary photography, to really hit home and be meaningful and effective, rely on the viewer's at least knowing something about what's being portrayed. If I saw the photo of John John saluting without knowing who he was or what the circumstances were, would it move me as much? Does the photo cheat because it relies in part for its emotional impact on my knowing he's the son of a slain president at his father's funeral?</p> <p>I could also ask if the Parks photo would be as effective if I weren't familiar with Wood's <em>American Gothic</em>. I'd say it would still be moving and effective at what it's portraying which, because of the American flag, just feels to me like a political statement. It's so much more than just a woman with a mop and a broom. I guess the flag could just happen to have been there, but the deliberateness of the pose and the props (even if I didn't know what they referenced or meant) suggests the background to be deliberate as well. Know the Grant Wood painting adds several more layers to the experience.</p> <p>I like when homages like this aren't too obvious. Being too obvious can often make an homage trite. Picasso said, <em>"Good artists copy, great artists steal."</em> Implied in the stealing is internalizing it and making it your own. Parks wasn't merely copying Wood, so I don't have to look for an easy or obvious translation, though it's not all that hard for me to see the homage and direct influence. And the title surely helps viewers along if they didn't already see it. And the title is a valid accompaniment to the photo. Titles and accompanying captions often help a photographer or artist communicate to viewers, set up a context, provide some direction. There's no rule book that says I have to come to a photo with a lack of outside knowledge and a lack of accompanying direction, especially when that direction is provided in the form of a title by the photographer himself.</p> <p>For me, the fact that this photo disconcerted his boss is a great thing. It's supposed to be and should be disconcerting. That's what risk and guts are often about. It's a passionate statement, it's unflinching, it uses irony effectively rather than the simplistic way in which irony is so often used. The photo is both symbolic and iconic, at the same time being so very personal and grounded. That's a terrific balance to achieve.</p>

<p>Ellis, very amusing, thanks.</p> <p>But he kind of missed a golden opportunity for a little more humor/irony. He's actually filming at Metropolitan Community Church, an all-inclusive church that's well-known as a gay church in a lot of communities. Note the rainbow flags that are visible early in the video. Just to add a bit of humor, he might have done the video leading us to believe he was filming a traditional wedding and then, only at the end, shown either two women or two men at the altar and said something along the lines of, <em>"Don't forget to take off your lens cap, to bring an extra set of batteries, and to have an extra bride or groom on hand just in case you need one."</em></p>

<p>Jim,</p> <p>Please don't feel that way, although I understand the rating system is often maligned and I've questioned its validity and the way it works as well. But I also participate in it, for a variety of reasons. The reason I submit for ratings is that it determines whether one's photos will appear randomly at the bottom of threads, which I think is a nice feature and a way of discovering new photographers and just generally getting exposure. The reason I rate is simply to participate and add to the general working of the community, plus it gives me an hour or so of seeing photos I might otherwise not find.</p> <p>When mate rating comes up, it's a pretty specific charge and can fairly easily be exposed with just a bit of looking around. It's not about people who give high rates such as you've described. It's about people who have formed a clique and who knowingly rate each other with high rates to get on the top-rated photos page. It used to be more transparent, when the rater and their ratings were shown, and you could really see this tit-for-tat at play among certain core groups here. Now that ratings, except for totals and averages, are hidden, it's less obvious but still goes on. People tell each other what they've rated in a comment and then a like-minded rate is given in return. Believe it or not, there have even been email groups, where people notify each other that a new photo of theirs has been posted and then the high mate-rates start pouring in.</p> <p>But, specific to this thread, the ban on giving someone a 7 if they've given you one is obviously antiquated. Since most of us have no idea who's rated us and how, we wouldn't be returning a favor. It would just be a matter of coincidence. Most of us don't know who's given us a 7 so we couldn't reciprocate.</p> <p>My own inclination is that, if you're going to have a rating system, you may as well create it for adults and treat your members as adults and if people want to play these sorts of games, delete their accounts if you feel they're really being abusive to the system or just ignore them because ratings are more or less an unscientific game anyway, though I understand people value them for different reasons and use them in different ways.</p>

<p>The only one I've heard of is Eric Kim, but don't know anything about them. I don't have a Facebook or Twitter account and don't spend that much time surfing the web. When I surf the web, it is often photo related, but I have my hands full familiarizing myself with the photographers who've stood the test of time. Most of the contemporary photographers I'm exposed to are local or I find them in galleries and museums. Sometimes, a friend will send me a link to someone they think I may find interesting.</p> <p>I'm a little curious as to what the difference would be between socially influential and simply popular.</p> <p>Regardless, though, there's probably plenty of room in the world for all kinds of photographers. I do tend to be more interested in art photography and documentary photography than in most stuff I tend to see around, but what other people do rarely disgruntles me, unless I feel they've stepped over some ethical line. Does that make me one of the "art elite?" I don't know. It's not my call.</p>

<p>First impression is both socio-political/cultural and photographic. I see so many unnecessary or non-expressive uses of depth of field. Here, I find the depth of field incredibly effective and moving and narrative, as it adds dimension both visually and to the story being told. The background is not blurred just because a camera can do it. It's not just because it looks cool, because it shows a proficient use of camera and lens, or because it looks a little more artsy than were the whole scene in focus. And it's not blurred just because it makes the subject stand out, though it does that well. Here, the depth of field says to me that the flag and what it represents is elusive, partly illusion, partly dream, partly real. The America it stands for hangs in the balance. The broom is as far as we'd come up to that point and, to an unfortunate extent, it's as far as we've come even beyond that point to the present. What's haunting about this image is that it's both historical and contemporarily relevant, showing what it was like, helping to move us forward at the time, and now showing us both how far we've come and how far we haven't. For me, this photo is a document and much more. It very much is and also very much transcends what it was at the time. It is a photo that is still living. It evokes memories and also addresses my country today. That flag and what it represents is <em>still</em> a blur. The woman's face needed to be partially in darkness and needed to have that cold and captivating stare, and it still does need to be that way, not just in paying homage to Wood's painting but as something to reckon with on its own terms, which any good homage will do. I wish I knew what to tell her. The photo stirs in me more than empathy. It also stirs a longing, like an unrequited love.</p>

<p>What I found interesting, not really weird, and what led me to respond, was that you talked specifically about the photographers you would <em>not</em> like to have a beer with, the pretentious ones who are stiff and have no sense of humor, to use your words, the ones who take themselves so seriously. Just felt like providing an alternative view, especially since I live in the same city and haven't met many photographers I wouldn't want to have a beer with. Just thought I'd offer a different experience and different take on the matter. Nothing bizarre intended and no particular nerves touched.</p>

<p>I like having beers with folks, too. But I'd have to say that having a beer with an admired or famous photographer, painter, sculptor, film director, or any other . . . dare I say it . . . artist is probably out of my reach for the most part. I tend to have other priorities when it comes to what I want from fellow artists. I'm also not the kind of guy who gives much more attention to photos that I'd want to hang on my wall. As a matter of fact, when I don't want a photo hanging on my wall, it may very well be because it has a certain effect on me that's more significant than my desire for companionship. For beers and companionship and camaraderie I have dear friends, fun acquaintances, and I can even still find a stranger or two on Castro Street for that.</p> <p>Here's a precious little blurb about Michelangelo. Now maybe he would refuse to have a beer with me and maybe it would be difficult to spend time with him. Maybe he'd come across as a complete jerk. It's pretty universally known that Hitchcock could be a jerk as well. But I'd still go out of my way to be in their company. I'd devour their artwork and spend time studying their work habits and their personalities, and take any chance I could get to spend time with them, whether they were joyous in soaking up life or as depressed and narcissistic and even as nasty as hell.</p> <p>Thankfully, art is an equal opportunity employer, and not just friendly personalities and uplifting souls participate.</p> <blockquote> <p><strong>Michelangelo</strong> by all accounts was an arrogant, unfriendly, generally anti-social person who incorrigibly fought with clients, popes and fellow artists alike. He had ongoing rivalries with Raphael and Leonardo Di Vinci and had such a low opinion of painting that he’d probably punch me for calling him a “painter” before “sculptor.” But he is universally seen as one of the most important figures in all of Western art.</p> </blockquote> <p>Go figure!</p>

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<p>Stieglitz may be a good example to toss in the ring here. He thought photography was art and went out of his way to make that known and accepted. Interestingly, he started out trying to show this in making and appreciating photos that mimicked painting. Later on, he rejected that and felt that photography could be accepted as an art not because of what it seemed or was forced to share with painting but because of its own unique aesthetic characteristics. Winogrand thinks photography is unique and it's better to call it photography. Stieglitz thought that despite (and in some ways because of) photography's being unique, it could still be considered art.</p> <p>Frankly, I'm glad we have both, as photographers and thinkers. Glad I don't have to choose one to be my hero.</p> <p> </p>

<p>Alan, just like a plumber can call himself a plumber and no one has a fit over it, an artist ought to be able to call himself an artist without being labeled presumptuous. Could there be presumptuousness sometimes coming from the other direction? From those who look down on artists referring to themselves as artists.</p> <p>Having said that, referring to oneself as an artist doesn't make one an artist any more than referring to oneself as a plumber makes one a plumber. You have to have the chops and get the results. (Which doesn't mean being a "success".) But there's nothing wrong with knowing what you're about, going for it, and saying it. I know plenty of artists who refer to themselves as artists. It's a significant bit of information about who they are and how they see themselves just like any other bit of information we give about ourselves.</p> <p>Garry Winogrand didn't want to call himself an artist. Good for him. I respect him for it. It doesn't make his work that much more interesting to me but I'm happy to hear what he thinks of himself and how he looks at himself, and no one needs to think of themselves as an artist. I'm also OK with others thinking of him as an artist even though he doesn't. We're not always the best experts about ourselves.</p> <p>But Garry Winogrand is only one guy. And he doesn't represent for me a way to be. He's just who he is. Just because he thinks he's not an artist doesn't mean I have any problem with others who think they are. I honestly think Garry Winogrand had some perceptive things to say and some interesting things to show us (though his photos go only so far for me). But I think he can be quoted way too often and he can be mythologized way too much.</p>

<p>The thing I like about Clive's word game is that it's cooperative and there are no winners in a world where so many games are geared toward winning and one-upsmanship.</p> <p>I think the cultural and cooperative aspects of creativity are significant. Without that, it's too ego-driven, which is probably part of the cause of an artist's dismay at being considered part of a school or movement he didn't formally sign up for. Most of us are part of something greater than ourselves even though we often fool ourselves into thinking we're the center of the universe.</p> <p>And I certainly don't mean to minimize individualism. Chopin and Liszt, contemporaries, were in so many ways as different as night and day. I mean really, really different. Yet, when we step back and compare them to the Classical composers who came before them and the Impressionists who followed, we can also see the ways in which they were incredibly similar and shared a musical vocabulary.</p> <p> </p>

<p>To see if there's any connection between the superficial and the deep.</p>

<p>Well, my sense of it is that creativity is not as much of an explosion as all that, especially from behind. Depends on my perspective. From in front, it may look solely embryonic. But I wonder if creativity doesn't sometimes get overly mythologized. Looking back at art history from where we sit, and I think a bit of linear cutting maps quite well. There does seem to be a fairly "logical"* progression from school to school, from artistic invention to artistic invention, even if that logic is by no means simple or certain. And there are all kinds of strands, that are more like tentacles reaching out to each other than they are like explosions of the completely new or embryonic.</p> <p>*I tend to revert to the word "logic" here, but I would understand a bad reaction to that word when talking about creativity. Regardless, there seems to be some kind of building progression and an important quality of responsiveness even to creativity.</p> <p>Consider Expressionism. Was it an explosion or did it, in fact, start at 2? What role did Nietzsche have in it, Dostoevsky? How influential were the Fauves? How much is it a reaction to Impressionism, and a fairly natural one at that.</p> <p>I actually view creativity in both explosive and more linear and progressive terms. No doubt, as I said, there is a "rift" character to much creativity. But I also think the creativity in art has a history of being much like a dialogue throughout the ages. It's not <em>just</em> the assertion of individual radical voices arising out of the void. There's a sense to creativity, IMO, that requires being so in tune and in touch with what's come before, and so responsive to it, that one almost can't help but take the next step. I think there's an aspect of creativity that is as much pushed as it is doing the pushing. That's the "letting go" part. It's OK to be open enough to also let history carry one forward a bit, even while making it.</p>

<p>A couple of little quotes might shed some light in a direction.</p> <blockquote> <p><em>"The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources."</em> —Albert Einstein<br> <em>"Creativity requires the courage to let go of certainties."</em> —Erich Fromm</p> </blockquote> <p>Einstein's quote suggests a kind of spontaneity that's involved, a kind of rift somewhere along the road from what came prior, though I think that's different from originality which I think creativity does not have to have.</p> <p>Fromm's quote suggests the aspect of letting go, which I think is important. And uncertainty surely seems to play a part.</p> <p>Something creative will often have some sort of foundation or basis, but it is not dependent on it and is not inextricably tied to it. Creativity may actually provide new foundations or bases.<br> .</p>

<p>Got it. Thanks for the explanation. I like "work" in the sense of the photograph "works" or doesn't "work." Important consideration. I think working, in this sense, suggests some kind of internal coherence, which I think is important.</p> <p>But . . . regarding creativity, I think a creative person has to be willing to come up with a lot of things that don't work. And those things may still be creative. I also think a lot of very creative things, like the movies I mentioned above, are creative but don't work. I think "working" may apply more to quality and success but is probably not a necessary condition of creativity.</p>

<p>I think it may be reasonable to question who gets credit for what. The photo is still the photo, no matter how it was created and who's responsible.</p> <p>The fact that The Beatles are such an important factor in my experience of the photo doesn't lessen it for me. It just is what it is. And neither does the fact that the photographer worked with a cinematographer and director and famous subjects diminish the photo either.</p> <p>Photos are often the result of some sort of collaboration. Most photos I can think of are a sort of collaboration where something or someone deserves credit or notice in addition to the photographer. I'd be missing something if I thought all my photos are only about what I've done in order for them to become photos. My portraits owe much to, and I give a good deal of credit to, the subjects who are there for me to photograph. Some of my subjects are so photogenic that I barely like to take any credit at all. They don't have to be famous for that to be the case. Buildings in our shots were created by architects. Store windows were often designed by window dressers. Clothing that may make a photo special was designed. It's kind of hard to remove, and I wouldn't want to, any photo from its content, whether it's the Beatles or Bresson's guy riding a bicycle on an evocative cobblestone street alongside a well-designed, old spiral staircase, none of which the photographer was responsible for making although he was responsible for noticing it all, being there, and composing it. Adams actually owes an awful lot to the beauty and grandeur of Yosemite, and I think he was very keen on giving it its due.</p> <p>Photos are all some combination of content—which will have its own impression on us often aside from but also in addition to and because of the qualities of the photo—and artistic or photographic considerations. And many photos result from collaborations among lighting people, staging people, labs, printers, and other assorted talents. It's important to separate authorship concerns from aesthetic concerns.</p> <p>It's also important to recognize that even though someone thinks they could have done this, and I'm not denying they might have been able to, they didn't actually do it. Sometimes, doing it is more important than all the potential and ability in the world.</p>

<p>Marc, I understand what you're saying and it makes sense. It's also true that many photographers are not terribly good printers and wouldn't be able to realize their own vision by printing themselves. Many are better off working with an expert printer to whom they can communicate what they want the photo to look like. The master printer may well better realize the vision of the photographer.</p> <p>Ilia and I seem to agree that what's being discussed in this thread, to a great extent, boils down to attribution and authorship, and it's not a question of what's art and what's not art. There is often an investment in determining one individual who is responsible for the work of art. I don't question that and think it's a significant question. At the same time, not being able to pin the work on one individual doesn't lighten my experience of it, if it's a moving or effective work of art.</p> <p>Winogrand's not completing the process doesn't make his photos less art or less effective as art. It does make it more difficult to tie it to an individual vision, though I think his vision, no matter how it's been brought to us, comes through pretty clearly, as does Shakespeare's and as does Mozart's. Even though Mozart has to come to us through the interpretation of others, I experience a pretty singular and recognizable musical vision when listening to his music.</p>

<p>Would you consider "skill" instead of "work"? I like the idea of skill because it's related to craft and I think craft together with creativity can get us somewhere. One can work and work and work and not necessarily come up with something of quality. Things of quality generally show skill.</p> <p>In any case, I do think <em>art</em> lies in some combination of creativity and craft. </p>

<p>Yes, bad pictures can be creative. I agree that quality and creativity are different.</p> <p>Perfection is an ideal that can't, IMO, be reached. So no photographer can add that to the mix.</p> <p>I think of quality as a relative value judgment, not an absolute. Quality was supposedly lacking in Stravinsky's <em>Rite of Spring,</em> which led to its poor original reception. It took years for "quality" to set in. What magic happened in those years? It was not anything about the music itself. It was about the perception of the music. Good art often sets new standards and trends in taste so a contemporaneous judgment of quality can be tricky and often misleading, though it still is what it is. The audience booed Stravinsky because that's how they genuinely reacted. We're no more right about it today. We just have a different perspective and attunement.</p> <p>I thought the movie, <em>The Black Swan</em>, was extremely creative and extremely bad. I thought the same thing about Baz Luhrmann's recent film of <em>The Great Gatsby</em>. When I first saw some of La Chapelle's photos, I thought they were awful but recognized the creativity in them. I appreciate them a lot more now. Still not sure whether I like them.</p>

<p>Mark, interesting comparison between the conversation on Erwitt and the one earlier on Karsh. I agree there is something to the fact that Karsh's subjects were famous and Erwitt's more a blank canvas. Very worth considering, thanks. I think it's also about each photographer handling their subjects so differently. Karsh had a much more formal approach. His approach was more severe, tended to be darker, and had an austerity about it that, for me, borders on sterility . . . more pomp and circumstance. Erwitt seems to have a much looser and lighter approach. I think he's allowed his subjects more visual suggestiveness, incompleteness and curiosity. Karsh's visual sense seems more definitive and final. Erwitt seems to be in the midst of something rather than at the conclusion of it. </p> <p>I wonder if this works, off the top of my head. Karsh mentioned uncovering the secret to his subjects (which I think he failed to do). But that seemed to be his concern and his photos look that way. Maybe Erwitt wasn't so interested in uncovering secrets but was actually a bit more accepting of mystique and amusement. It was like Erwitt was playing that old childhood game of telephone, where we witness how what gets said from one person to another transform almost unrecognizably. Erwitt seems to be looking for questions and quirks, open-endedly. Karsh seemed to be looking for answers and closing doors as he went.</p>

<p>If someone were to go through all my shots sometime in the future, that would be fine with me. Unless they used them to hurt someone, I'd have no problem. If they chose things I didn't care for or didn't think much of, I'd be happy they were getting something out of them. Sometimes, it's not about me. </p> <p>People I photograph will often choose photos of themselves that I don't like much. And they're ones I wouldn't necessarily show on PN or hang in my gallery. But I'm happy to have them display them at home or on their Facebook pages and share them with their friends. If something I had a hand in makes someone else happy or fulfills some desire or need in them, it's great. If these photos became popular and famous, even though I didn't like them, I'd accept it as something beyond what I'd want to control.</p> <p>Alan has mentioned giving away many of his prints and getting pleasure from that. I really admire that practice.</p> <p>I can't and wouldn't speak for Winogrand or anyone else, because I wouldn't project my own needs and wishes onto what either of them may think or may have wanted. But I don't think, by default, either Winogrand or Vivian Maier can be said to be diminished or abused in any way by what's been done with their work. They've had a net positive effect on the world and that's pretty good for any human being, in my opinion. We simply don't get to control everything from beyond the grave, and I wouldn't expend a lot of time and energy trying to do so while I'm alive.</p> <p>Que sera sera.</p>

<p>Thanks, Benoit, I'll try your suggestion out. It would still be nice not to have to use that workaround and to know what's going on.</p>

Two women and their son at San Francisco City Hall on June 17, 2008, the first day gay marriages were publicly performed in California, signing their marriage license and other documents. The courts would subsequently overturn the Mayor's act of declaring gay marriages legal but not the act of this pen in creating the marriage itself, which would stand. Later, the courts would overturn an amendment to the state constitution, thereby legalizing and institutionalizing gay marriages in California for good.<div></div>