Norma Desmond

<p>At all places I've worked, most work rules still apply when I'm at lunch on site.</p> <p>Observations about the political ramifications of a photo are not off topic, or at least shouldn't be.</p> <p>_________________________________________________________</p> <p>One of the key elements of this photo for me is the supporting rope. Compositionally, it adds a strong and dynamic diagonal. Narratively, it helps show the precariousness of the situation. Without that rope, I think it would be a much more surreal photo and, perhaps, feel less documentary-like. Were the men dangling in air, more visually unsupported, I think it would change the whole tone of the picture. That rope seems to really ground it (ironically) for me and maintains the nuts and bolts of the situation, preventing me from seeing it in that purely surreal way it might otherwise have been shot. That rope, not to overemphasize it but just wanting to call attention to it as it calls my own attention, is a photographic gesture not unlike the more humanly directed gestures of the men relating to each other or doing their own things. It's part of the orchestration of the photo. And whether intentional or not and whether the director of the shoot would see it as I do or not, it has this effect on me. It makes it more real and much less abstract than if there was a simple clean line of men on a parallel bar floating mid-air.</p> <p>In terms of the staging, I think poses and staging can be very effective when they are obvious enough to be recognized as such and yet still achieve a level of authenticity and acceptability. Then I don't feel as though any kind of wool is being pulled over my eyes, but rather that a degree of intentionality went into the creation of a scene that conveys to me something of significance. It seems a good balance was reached here with the staging.</p> <p>A staged photo will often have a different effect on me than a candid one and I can very viscerally feel that difference, which I do here. I don't think one is better or more effective or more honest or more genuine than the other, but I find the difference significant nonetheless. I tend to appreciate each, candid and posed photos, for what they offer but also tend to be very attuned to the differences in how each says what it says and in how each feels to me. In this photo, the adept sense of artifice I feel works quite well against the still exhilarating sense of reality of the situation. Both artifice and breathless reality work together in this single still photo. That's powerful!</p>

<p><em>anyone who expects others to be mindful and considerate of other people around them are expecting too much</em></p> <p>Thankfully, I live in San Francisco where, for the most part, we afford each other a lot of mindfulness and consideration. I find the same is true of my regular visits to New York City. San Francisco is a very liberating and neighborly place to live. The reason I was so annoyed at the behavior at the de Young museum on that particular night is that the rude behavior stood out as an anomaly, not as typical behavior at all. I do expect, and am glad I do, much from the community I'm part of. And I'm glad they expect kind and neighborly behavior from me. It makes for a great place to live, a sense of shared space and appreciation of each other, and generally very positive vibes in public. I feel badly that others experience or perceive more hostile environments or ones where less consideration is afforded by those around them. I wouldn't want to live that way and am glad I have a choice both in terms of where to live and in the tone of voice of my perception of others.</p>

<p>Jeff, had you been at the de Young on the night I was there, you might understand what I'm talking about which has specifically to do with people who had cameras and the screens lighting up all over the rooms and the people with cameras being oblivious of others sharing the space with them. Of course, people without cameras can be annoying as well. But, at this venue, it was the people and the cameras that were the problem specifically. </p> <p>Brad, you're probably right about it being somewhat different than what Marie is addressing and the OP specifically talked about his own photo being taken by folks with cameras. I haven't experienced much of that and when someone does take my pic on the street it doesn't really bother me. Still, I don't consider most of them photographers. I think they are *mostly* people following a fad, and I still maintain it has little to do with photography <em>per se</em>.</p> <p>I am glad some people are able to access cameras and that photography is now a medium more accessible to more people who want to express themselves photographically. Among those out snapping people's pics on the street, I'd say a relatively small number are doing it to express themselves or show the world something of significance. It's generally more trophy-like and mindless.</p>

<p>By the way, the de Young sent out an email following the flower exhibit because they got so many complaints about the iPhones and iPads and picture-taking. They were doing a survey, and now I understand they are considering making certain days of the flower show camera free and other days welcoming to those who want to snap pics. Seems like a good democratic compromise. </p>

<p><em>Why let what other people do with photography bother you?</em></p> <p>IMO, much of this has very little to do with <em>photography</em>. It has to do with picture taking by average folks. The bother can be that people with cameras can very much get in the way. I was at an exhibit recently at the deYoung Museum, the annual flower show, and the folks with cameras bugged me no end, not because they were simply doing something which I had the option of ignoring but because they were rude, obtrusive, and clueless about the space of the other people around them, including me. People at fairs and parades with cameras are also often as blind to those around them, raising their arms up in front of other people who are trying to watch the parade, jockeying for position with no regard for those around them. Many of these people are not photographers at all. They are just folks with cameras. And they can be very annoying, even when I'm simply trying to mind my own business or enjoy what's going on around me. It's not what they do with photography that bothers me. It's their behavior while snapping pictures that does.</p>

<p>Good street photographers are a treasure. Most people with cameras taking pics on the street (or in public places) are NOT street photographers and can't be confused with them.</p>

<p>Arthur, part of my experience of abstracts and White's more abstract photo linked in the OP in particular are that they help turn off my inner dialogue. Its beauty is that it simply is and I can be with it. That's not to say I can't or won't talk about it. I love to do that. But I find it visually alluring in its quietness of meaning or narrative, and in its lack of "whatness." I can appreciate the relationships, the design, the geometries, the tonal variations you speak of, and while experiencing that, just turn off the mental accompaniments. One thing I'll say about a photo like this, and White's abstract work in general and abstract art as a whole, is that it infuses my looking at more literal and narrative photos with an eye toward abstraction. If there's one common thread I find in most art, it's that there are all kinds of abstractions, subtle and more blatant. Any photo, even the most dynamic and storytelling street photo, has abstract qualities, shapes relating to each other, light creating illusions and allusions, textures overlapping, forms of light and dark. Allowing those abstract qualities a sufficient role in supporting whatever narrative is being shown or whatever "what" is being pictured adds greatly to my experience of every photo. I may come away from a great piece of music humming the melody, just as I may come away from a great photo talking about what a great picture of an "X" it is, but if I've missed the low basses and their accompanying rhythms and structure, I haven't fully internalized the music. If I've missed the many abstractions that all photos participate in, I haven't seen, for myself, the full picture. White's photo helps me see . . . a certain way. Even if I'm not seeing a what, it feels like I'm seeing a little more, by actually being shown a little less.</p>

<p>Dan, how much does your knowing what you're looking at matter? I wonder if that's just the point . . . that White, at least in part, was trying to show us that feeling the patterns and textures on an intimate level was the significant factor in his work and knowing <em>what</em> it is just doesn't matter much? Or maybe that our curiosity about it was what mattered and helped us see and feel the patterns even more viscerally.</p>

<p>Thomas, thanks for further amplifying. Proof of the wisdom of the saying "To each his own." Setting limits can be a wonderful way to work.</p>

<p>Thomas, I intend many of my photos to be b&w as well. I still shoot digitally in color, basically so I can have control over the conversion to b&w. I find it gives me many more choices in my b&w and flexibility in determining what tones get assigned to what color channels. This seems a better option to me than allowing more generically pre-programmed camera software to determine how the conversion will happen.</p>

<p>Having a contest that specifies film or digital doesn't seem any different to me than having a contest for large format photos or polaroid photos. There's a tendency to make too big a deal over the differences between film and digital, for sure. There's also a tendency to claim no relevant difference. Neither tendency, in the extreme, makes much sense to me.</p> <p>I agree with Sarah that if you shot it with film, you'd likely qualify, though I'd take the advice of others and ask the rules committee.</p>

<div></div>

<div></div>

<p>While I agree to an extent with Arthur and Craig, I think the difference from a still to a movie is so significant and the continuity of movies is pretty much a different ball game. All the narrative elements of foreshadowing, anticipation, resolution are dealt with in a movie by both director and cinematographer. Sequencing is an important element. If a movie was, indeed, shot as a series of stills, my guess is that it would be rather boring, even though I love still photography. It's in the transitions, the movement, the flow that a movie stands apart from a single still photo. It's in the way the cinematographer and director interpret the script and make the imagery cohere with and play off the script. Though some photos could be considered to have a script, most don't. </p> <p>Take <a href=" famous scene from <em>The Graduate</em>. We've all seen the still of Dustin Hoffman's head through Anne Bancroft's legs. But the full wonderfulness of the scene is in her ease played against Hoffman's discomfort, the foreshadowing role of the longer shot of her crossed legs before we see the famous close-up, and finally Dustin Hoffman's innocent but obviously sexually aroused question at the end of the scene, "Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me, AREN'T YOU?" The buildup to and retreat from the memorable highpoint "still" moment of his head through her legs is what a good cinematographer can accomplish and play with. </p> <p>When I'm looking at movies as inspiration, it is how to get my photos to have this kind of life, movement, and emotional impact, more loosely translated. My photographic experience of movies is a great deal more than noticing individual still moments extrapolated from the whole.</p> <p><a href=" the trailer from FW Murnau's 1922 version of <em>Nosferatu</em>. It's amazing how every scene shown is so dependent on movement and utilizes it so incredibly effectively, more so than any one still frame taken from the movie would convey. From the moving ship, to the movement of the water, to the encroaching shadow, to the slowly closing door! That's not to say the stills taken from a given scene won't have a high impact and significance in their own right. It's just to notice what the vast difference is between cinematography and still photography and it's a big part of the reason I find cinematography so inspiring. Even if things are accomplished so differently from one medium to the next, there are universal qualities and aesthetic elements all arts share, though they may come through so differently in each form.</p>

<div></div>

<div></div>

<p>Two recent films that inspired me were <em>Mud</em> (directed by Jeff Nichols, starring Matthew McConaughey) and <em>Nebraska</em> (directed by Alexander Payne, starring Bruce Dern). <em>Nebraska</em> is filmed in very expressive and appropriate black and white. The b/w is less graphic and glossy than <em>The Artist</em> (which I also liked a lot) and very differently used to go so well with the story and mood of the film.</p> <p>Older movies tend to inspire me more photographically, particularly Westerns. It's as much for the unfolding of narrative and story-telling as for the visuals.</p> <p>John Ford's sense of people in their environments and the connection between his people and land and place is, IMO, unrivaled. So many of his shots are glorious environmental portraits. And the incredible relationships he establishes among his people and the spirituality he gives their choices and dilemmas are so rich. Two of his that I saw recently are <em>Rio Grande</em> (John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara, an amazing duo) and an early non-Western, heavily German Expressionist influenced film, <em>The Fugitive</em> (with Henry Fonda and based on a novel by Graham Greene).</p> <p>The Westerns of Raoul Walsh tend to be a bit more violent and frenetic but are also soulful in their own way and stunning visually. <em>The Tall Men</em> (Clark Gable, Jane Russell) is great.</p> <p>And perhaps lesser known but fascinating are the Westerns of Budd Boetticher. They are more staged, there is more artifice, and his ability to use that to his advantage and still create such real characters and situations, all the while with control over the visuals, lighting, etc. is quite something. <em>Seven Men From Now</em> (Randolph Scott, Lee Marvin) is a good one.</p> <p>Films inspire me photographically in terms of movement (which can be a significant part of even a still photo), narrative, and in going beyond simply the moment, which I think a good photo can do. Films are orchestrated (story, photography, music, acting) and a good photo can be as well.</p>

<p><em>At the 'decisive' level that *is* photography, how much does the 'director' have to do with the image? I would suggest it's less than the shooter, but more than nothing.</em></p> <p>Collaborators probably don't view it as a competition . . . who does more, who does less?</p> <p>Interestingly, many solo photographers are both, and for many it would be impossible to separate which hat is being worn when and what's more important than what. </p> <p>It's like looking at this photo. Who has more to do with the image? The photographer or the subjects? Who gets that credit? An interesting question to ponder but one that will never have, IMO, a definitive answer.</p> <p>Also, IMO, pose *is* expression, as is composition, as is where light falls, as are gestures. Artistic and photographic expressions are not limited to what's taking place on the faces of people in the picture.</p>

<p>In addition to what's been mentioned, I like the way the architecture is used as a background while also being an important part of the locating device and adding a lot of energy to the photo. This photo, including the buildings, is composed so dynamically. The parallel railings of the staircase seem crucially placed in the frame so as not to intrude yet they provide a visual element that has an uplifting and eye-catching quality. The staircase itself is a very nice compositional detail. The shingled roof on the right seems to provide protection, almost halo-like. In this way, we are not simply seeing a portrait of these women. We are seeing a portrait of their lives, made evident by the place they inhabit and the activities/chores they perform. Their comfort with each other and the camera is alluring and infectious.</p> <p>For me, photos like this put to bed any notion that candid photography is more "real" or "natural" or captures more about people than posed photography. A photographer (with subjects who are so genuine) has the ability to pose his subject/s in such a way as to bring forth so much humanity and depth in the people he photographs. Finding effective, moving, and substantial poses, utilizing the environment of one's subjects, and considering props that complement the people and activities going on really help tell the kind of human interest story being told here. These women, even across the centuries, feel like they are connecting directly with me (through their strong connection to each other and to the photographer). If they are at all "showing off", it comes across as sincere and warm. The intentionality behind this photo, both from the photographer and the subjects, helps create this connection and is one of the reasons I feel so welcomed by it and by them.</p> <p>[Amy, I get the impression the seventh woman you reference, who is such an effective part of the photo as you notice, is looking directly at the camera with her chin resting on her hand.]</p>

<p><em>Maybe I am still stuck in the last century.</em></p> <p>I don't see it as having anything to do with a particular century or time period. I think it has more to do with a mind set and on that score I say "to each his/her own."</p> <p>I've never made a photo by just pushing the shutter. Whether I do it or someone else does it, my photos get processed in some way once the camera part is finished and then they are either printed or displayed on a monitor. For me, the push of the shutter is simply one (important) stage in a bigger course of events.</p>

<p>Excellent point, Dave, and wonderful photo. Graphically minimalist photos can have a lot of content and I think minimalism and less content are two different things.</p> <p>Wasn't sure if I had an entry to submit to the thread, but perhaps this one is somewhat minimalist while having, for me, not just a little bit of content. It may be, though, that this photo is more about scale and distance than minimalism, though the use of scale and distance to create a sense of empty space could play into thinking about how a minimalist effect can happen.</p><div></div>

<p>I find it is often the case that self discovery is also discovering others and the world. Hard to separate the two. There seems to be a reciprocal or symbiotic relationship. In White's work, for instance his male nudes but also some of his shots of details of buildings, he seems to be discovering/exploring his own feelings and awareness of things around him as well as self-awareness, he seems also to be discovering the joy and sensuality of the bodies of others, the light that shines on them, the place they have in the world, and the way humans have adorned buildings and those adornments fade and corrode. That sense of one-ness is much more, IMO, than focused back on or reflected back at or revelatory of him. His mindfulness seems of the world / of himself.</p>