samstevens

I never thought of "artist" to mean someone who is already complete and fulfilled. Declaring oneself or another an artist means no such thing, IMO. As a matter of fact, often the opposite is true. Most artists are on a journey, by no means complete, and history is filled with unfulfilled and struggling artists.

I know plenty of artists who would recoil at declaring their intent. Their work itself speaks much louder. They are making pictures precisely because some things can't be put into words and, in many cases, they're simply not good with words but are good at expressing themselves from behind the lens of a camera or with a paintbrush in hand. Many artists don't know their artistic intent. And, even when they do, what many artists say about artistic intent or purpose can be rich but is also rather universal and vague. Look at all of these quotes of artistic intent. We know many of the artists. Couldn't any one of these statements apply to any one of these artists? https://www.azquotes.com/quotes/topics/purpose-of-art.html I enjoy and am able to put much into words, but whenever I try to say what I'm doing photographically, I immediately think of alternatives, negations, and counterpoints to the things I'm saying. Even if I'm interested in what artists have to say about their work, I don't think a declaration of intent makes someone any more of an artist than a declaration such as "I am an artist." And I don't think the artist is always the best person to discuss or analyze their own work. They're off downright wrong! On a certain level, leaving it at "I am an artist" feels rather straightforward, simple, and artistic. That's why so many artists respond humorously, facetiously, or ironically to such questions about their art ...

It’s good to check it out and even try to understand. But that may not be the end of it. Without understanding, your gut and senses might be trying to tell you something. To “get” that, you might have to listen to a different inner voice. Possibly, though I don’t see any either. What’s outside of or beyond principles may be something less universal and more personal. Lack of familiarity has great potential. This is your ball to run with. Nothing may come of it as far as this photo or the present moment is concerned. But it can still be tucked away for future recurrence and possibility. Keep it in mind. See if it goes further … or anywhere …

I didn't bring up Duchamp to define art. I think art is more of a conversation than a matter of definition. Duchamp is part of the conversation. For me, this thread is not about definitions of art. It's about what's included in and excluded from art and who may refer to themselves as an artist. For all that, I think answering the why question more than the what or who question might better get to the heart of the matter. If I had to summarize my view on why I'm both willing to accept and also encourage those who think of themselves as artists (even if I don't get much out of what they produce), I'd quote one of my recent posts: I'd love for you to address this directly. That will help me understand why you think otherwise. I'm worried that I'm not fully understanding your own why. One of the things that stands out to me in your framing is that you find it cumbersome to wade through so many unfulfilling photos in search of those few that will provide feeling and meaning to you. Though I understand that frustration, I frankly don't see that as a compelling reason to tell the millions posting photography to the web, or painting at home and mimicking the classics, or writing songs that may be fun but are far from original, that they're not artists. What will be gained? What will it change? In favor of your argument, I might think in terms not of my own convenience or annoyance at browsing the web but of the integrity of art itself (as a practice, institution, etc.). But I'm also skeptical of some of the institutional aspects of art, which goes back to what I think some or much of Duchamp was about. Were we to talk about the integrity of art, how do we do that without restricting it as an exclusive or even elite sort of club, a club which over the years has tried in vain to keep a lot of rabble-rousers and iconoclasts out?

https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/duch/hd_duch.htm The article about Duchamp concludes: "... his greatest contribution to the history of art lies in his ability to question, admonish, critique, and playfully ridicule existing norms in order to transcend the status quo." By what standard and existing norm are we supposed to judge whether or not someone else should claim they are an artist or are making art? The minute we establish a standard that the work should be original or shouldn't be a cliché or shouldn't be "constructed and artificial", do we fall into the trap Duchamp rejected? One of the lessons of Duchamp is that art is in the conception as well as being "retinal". Does it add something to the world or take away something from the world that Person X thinks of themselves as an artist and as making art? I think that drive toward art, that desire, even if others might see it as unfulfilled, has merit in itself. The inspiration of wanting to make art, wanting to be part of the conversation, wanting to be taken seriously, wanting to assert oneself through painting or photography or music, even if one's talent is limited to mimicking what they already think is good art, is still something of value to the individual involved, whether it is to anyone else or not. Ironically ... or oxymoronically ... it might seem as though this would go against what Duchamp stood for, as he rejected continued mimicking of the standards already set and the visions already created. I don't know what Duchamp would think about any of this. But I'm drawn to the idea of accepting someone's self-conception as an artist being at least as significant as the clichés that might be produced as a result. There might be something to say about art's ability to motivate and inspire being as much (if not more) a factor in this discussion as the material works it produces. Why would I not be inspired by someone's desire to be an artist, even if that's manifested in mimicking what they already believe is good art, instead of admonishing them to reconsider their self view?

Some of the beauty of art is its richness in both texture and potential. My nephew loves certain kinds of movies, especially the rousing sports movies of Kevin Costner. When I go to a movie with him that I likely otherwise wouldn't enjoy or recommend, I find myself viewing it differently, almost through a kind of empathy with his own enjoyment of it. Movies, photos, paintings are just that adaptable. It's why the portrait of my Uncle, which I don't think is very good and don't think adds much to the history of painting or portraits, can be still so meaningful to me. The beauty of art also exists in how personal it can be. Artworks can easily transform themselves into totems of sorts. All levels of art and both good art and bad art can and often do become vehicles. It's really not just about what the painting or photo communicates or even expresses. It can simply be about what it carries for a viewer, which may be a lot more than its aesthetic or historical features. Art has the potential for the kind of intimacy that transcends criticism, accepted morality, responsibility, and expectation. I suspect that's how art works for a lot of people.

Actually, my cousin Laurie lovingly painted a portrait of my now-dead Uncle several years before he died. Honestly, though I like some of her work, not many in the family think it's a very good portrait. Laurie loves painting, she loves the portrait, and so did her mom, my aunt, before she died. I love that it meant something to them and that they loved it. I still like seeing it for that reason. Probably most photographers feel that way about portraits or pics of people they made, and maybe only members of the families would agree. That's fine. It's perfectly responsible. And it's one of the ways photography works. I wouldn't hold them to any standard other than loving the person pictured and the fact that the photo preserves a memory for them, even if the photo adds nothing to my own sense of photographic history or aesthetics.

Every photo ever made and that will be made is “additional to the documentation of the world which surrounds us.” Reality consists of elements that exist in time and space. Every photo is a “document” of something in a particular space at a particular time. So every photo is unique. It may remind us or look like other photos we’ve seen. That doesn’t undercut its uniqueness. Many photos go beyond documenting things and use things as a springboard to deeper thoughts and emotions. Many don’t. It’s not unlike people. To many of us, the frat boys going to the prep school look and act alike. But to their parents, each is unique and adds something. Their teachers, for example, have a responsibility not to consider them redundant or clichés, but to see them each as an individual. For me, if there’s a responsibility at all, it’s less to the photo or to the history of photography and more to each individual photographer. The reason to take a photo may very well have to do with the photographer simply being in this place at this time. There’s a uniqueness to that. Responsibility may have a “broad” sense, but it’s not unlimited: Responsibility is about duty, control, accountability, blame, authorization, requirement, obligation, morality. When one says that x,y, and z are responsible for the picture, one is saying more than that they are the cause. I respect and admire much of what you’ve said about photography as it applies to your work. I’m less inclined to be sympathetic to annoyance at not seeing it in others’ work and much less inclined to see it as any photographer’s responsibility to apply it to themselves. If I feel a responsibility, it’s to let each photographer shoot what they want how they want in the place they want at the time they’re there, recognizing it’s much more about their relationship to the moment than their relationship to history. I feel free to like or care about their photo as much or as little as I want. I’m not comfortable claiming they have a responsibility to do something else. Self-criticism is at the discretion of each of us for ourselves. It can deepen our experience. It can also get in the way, especially when demanded from another or from without. [“Think before you speak is criticism’s motto; speak before you think, creation’s.” (E. M. Forster)] I have no way of knowing whether someone has created another Weston intentionally and for what possible self-fulfilling (rather than historically-fulfilling) purpose. Being simply an observer of their work, it’s perilous for me to draw conclusions about their motivations and whether they’re wanting to “communicate” to a viewer or to simply express or illustrate something. Another picture of Half Dome that looks like thousands of other pictures of Half Dome may not be trying or wanting to communicate more than I was there. That’s plenty. Existential photography!

Oxymoron? Humans are balls of contradictions. Keeps us rolling along. Instinct tussling with reason. Curiosity getting the better of us.

I was trying to understand and question what you meant by responsibility in photography and in photos of nudes. That’s why I asked questions about it. You answered those questioned and, then to continue the dialogue, I responded to your thoughts. After my responses, you said … So, I’ll take it from there. I don’t think these are equal. The difference is that producing a photo is an act(ion). Being annoyed by a type of photo (boring, cliché, redundant), is a reaction or response. A response is stimulated by and dependent on the act or action being responded to. The original action, on the other hand, was less constrained by a direct relationship to a specific stimulus. We are free to respond personally to a photo in any reasonable way we want. (Probably not reasonable for a viewer to burn it.) We’re in a critical discussion about photography here. And this is more than a matter of responding to individual photos in personal ways. This is about more general theories of and propositions about photography, such as weather … Philosophers and critics freely express annoyance all the time. They are often challenged when they do so. “[A]nother nude body against a back drop” is a reductive description. This hypothetical photo was created by a photographer who may have any number of personal reasons for doing so. The description doesn’t leave room for the potential that there’s something personal or unique about this nude for the photographer who made it. You started by asking the reason for making such a type of photo. Yet you’ve then critiqued the type of photo based on your observations as a viewer rather than based on the many reasons such a photo may have been made. (One answer here is, “Even though it looks like a lot of others that came before it, I wanted one of my own.”) The theorist or philosopher in this case is not talking about a particular nude but is making a generalization about a category or type of photo. I think commenting and theorizing on types is more complicated (and intellectually perilous) than reacting to individual photos. And questioning the reasons for making something is different from critiquing the results. One may not like the results while still respecting the reasons that went into making it, and vice versa. I think with philosophizing and theorizing about photos and types of photos often comes some presumption that’s not necessarily equal to or matched by either the original intent of photographers themselves or the photos they produce.

I don’t believe it was me. You brought up responsibility on Jan 3, early in the thread (post #11). It’s recurred as a question since then.

Thanks for bringing up mistakes, which would be a good photography topic in itself. Some of my own favorite photos were born of mistakes that I made and then dealt with. I have a couple of early photos, that still remain favorites, where I completely mistook the lighting and exposure, and in some cases, the composition. But that led me to post process in a way I wouldn't have otherwise considered and I'm very happy with the results to this day. And, it's an added kind of special layer that it's all because of a mistake. A bunch of years ago, I saw a photo exhibit at the Met where someone found photos with various "mistake" themes at flea markets and put them together into a great exhibit, transforming the mistakes into something creative and of interest. One section was body parts cut off, one section was things growing out of the top of heads, bad exposures, etc. Now that's a little special because the mistakes in themselves probably would have just made it into the trash, and it was the reworking into context that made them interesting when put together. But I still think mistakes can be great raw materials, and what one person may think is a mistake, someone else will see as an innovation or a potential breakthrough. I don't know about responsibility and mistakes, but I think they can be an opportunity. It may not be so much about avoiding them or not showing them as much as to understand them and remain flexible.

I don’t understand the concept of being wrong aesthetically. Why would there be a responsibility to avoid ugliness? War is ugly. We have a responsibility to show that, don’t we? Mistakes. Many photos show mistakes. I’ve learned from mine and am glad I made them and showed them to learn from. I can live with them. I’ve never considered it a responsibility not to make mistakes, though it may be to admit (and, sometimes, correct) them. Yes, for the photographer who wants to create their own such nude. What’s dishonest about gimmicks to attract attention? We’d have no Warhol, no John Waters, no Kiss without them. It’s not that nude photography makes a special case. It’s that society and individuals sometimes make a particular case over nude photography.

Ricochetrider, the oxymoron flâneur.

@dcstep I think as you observe and articulated well, it depends. I've always seen rules as guidelines, and I have read about and utilized the guidelines and, with more and more experience, learned when they're helpful and when they're not. The guidelines certainly work well for certain genres and situations. Context is important. The type of photo we're critiquing here helps suggest whether it's worth seeing within guidelines that might apply to other genres or particular photos, which I sense you understand. And, knowing the rules or guidelines can actually be a key in flouting them expressively and even satirizing them with some photos. So, people like Erwitt and others were able to turn some of the guidelines on their head, because they knew them, knew their limits, and recognized the potential of seeing around them. https://i0.wp.com/fraenkelgallery.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/LF-30-22-1.jpg?fit=675%2C448&quality=90&strip=all&ssl=1 https://img.artlogic.net/w_1010,h_580,c_limit/exhibit-e/556d89b2cfaf3421548b4568/30c153b77be04fe5f4c4b2ac465eadb8.jpeg

I’m less likely to shoot with rules in mind than with having built up certain patterns, which we probably all do to some extent. Noticing the patterns and utilizing them to create a personal voice is challenging and rewarding. Breaking the patterns can be difficult but rewarding as well. Once seasoned, allowing instinct a key role can result in something personal and authentic. Viewing photos can also be guided by rules, often worthless, patterns (worth working with and breaking at times), and instinct, too often missing. Something I’ve tried to hone over the years is empathetic viewing, seeing what the photographer is showing, their vision, rather than looking for what I want to see or would have seen. That’s not always easy, especially in a critique. But I find it not only liberating, I also think it’s improved my photography to embrace a bunch of different ways to see, even some I may not necessarily “like”.

Is it a rule not to cut things off? Has anyone that mattered ever followed that rule? I ask because I've been looking at photos most of my life and have seen plenty of photos sitting in museums with feet cut off, buildings cut off abruptly, cars and dogs cut off, etc. It's often a sign of spontaneity and a result of being in the moment. What struck me here was the starkness and the scale and proportionality of the visual/narrative. I like the dialogue set up between being confronted with the back of the guy in the foreground and the profile of the guy in the background. It leads my imagination out of the frame while locating me well within it. It would be bolstered as part of a series, and not necessarily of other biker pics. It stands well next to some of your small town buildings and other stuff, many of which have the same mood and overall feel. I think being able to capture and create similar moods with different kinds of subjects is an accomplishment. It's done, often, by abstraction ... paying attention to qualities and elements that instill these feelings in a viewer on a less conscious level.

Kind of defines first world concern, doesn’t it.

Okay, who invaded the being of @mikemorrellNL and when can we have him back? 😊😊😊 In any case, my response would be, why not some of each, and even live in the present, too?

I don’t have a problem with the reason for a photo’s existence being to titillate any more than with it being to advertise and sell products. The cliché part makes them familiar and easy to digest for those who enjoy them, which is part of why they work. Inauthenticity can be more of a problem for me, though I’m used to it … feigning artistic purpose instead of acknowledging or even embracing the titillation. Of course, there is crossover. Some photos that titillate are art. Probably more often, though, the purpose and most obvious effect is titillation and art is used as the excuse. Inauthenticity can also occur, for example, with photos of homeless people held up as important documents that, in effect, do little more than exploit their subjects in a vain quest for simplistic pathos. Inauthenticity can be either conscious or clueless. If reasons for existing are going to bother me, propaganda and exploitation would feature prominently.

I appreciate that you didn’t intend the original discussion to be about nudes in particular. The framing threw me off, so I wanted to make sure. Thanks for clarifying for me. I don’t conclude what you do about most photos having no reason to exist. The reason they exist is that the people taking them took them and seem to have wanted to take them. That seems like a perfectly good reason for them to exist. I can like them or not accordingly, but my appreciating or liking them seems not to have any bearing on their legitimacy for existing. It would drive me crazy to think my photos shouldn’t exist just because I know similar photos already exist that are “better”. I’d never get anywhere if I thought of the reason for my own photography in competitive terms like that. For me, a big part of photography is personal and that’s enough reason for me to do it, regardless of what else exists.

In response to @je ne regrette rien's use of "neurophysiological" reactions to nudity, I was going to touch on this, and your architectural photo is a great example. Art often relies on and creatively uses metaphor. Shakespeare did it when he had Romeo drink the poison from a cup and then Juliet, discovering that her young lover was dead, pierce through her own breast with a dagger to join him in death. Sex. That Shakespeare was no prude. That architectural photo is not prudish either. So, I'm not sure we need the nude body to have a neurophysiological reaction to a photo that's sensual or sexual. Visual associations can, in fact, be more powerful than direct visual representations. Writers use metaphor because they often find it more stirring and stimulating than being more literal. There's a level on which many sensually-photographed objects can, in a more abstract way, provide what a nude might and a level in which an actual nude can be abstracted in the viewer's mind (often with the help of the photographer's touch) and accomplish what a landscape or vegetable might.

To my eye and sense of categorization, it also became a street photo. More importantly, it allows the photo to engage in a sort of internal dialogue that seems self referencing. As you said, with your nudes, people often seemed to see a naked photo of someone. The guy behind the rock represents that. So there's a bit of self portrait that emerges here. In the very act of creating a more artistic nude, a stranger from behind a rock makes it something else. That's kind of the story you related of your early nudes. The stranger may not simply make it something else, but something more, because I think the photo is also what it was before he entered the scene. I still can't help but relate the female body to the rocks, as they capture the light, form sensual and contrasting textures and shapes, and suggest soft and hard. The softness and hardness even seem to keep switching places with each other as I look. In any case, there was an instinctual and natural sexuality at play already which, now, the stranger transforms into a more vulgar view, but I don't see his as being the stronger touch than the touch of the photographer who visualized the original scene that the man intruded upon. I see a story about the layers of nudity and the making and adaptations of art here. It's also somewhat humorous.

I didn’t think it was, by any means … BUT … My first responses to you and some of my more recent questions were meant to ask why the genre of nudes both stimulated and provided the sole context for your concern about cliché and responsibility. My intuition and careful read of your words tells me there is something about the genre in particular. I think it would be interesting and beneficial for that to be addressed.

IMO, photos of nudes elicit more thoughts than their necessity or the number of clichés involved. So, I'll ask a few questions that I've considered over the years. Can photos of nudes be reduced to photos of nudes? Weston started this out, so to what extent is his photo of a pepper a photo of a pepper and to what extent does it [also] go well beyond such a subject-oriented understanding? How often is the nude the end in itself and how often is it more of a jumping-off point and how do those two views support each other in some photos? What, if any, "responsibility" is involved with nudes that might be different from the responsibility involved with any type of photo? Does photographing come with any "responsibility"? What is the difference, if any, between naked and nude? How might that apply to some photos? What role, if any, do both sensuality and sexuality play in photos of nudes? How ok is that? Do nudes seem more open to judgment than other types of photos? If so, is that to be expected given society's various challenges with nudity? Is it fair? Does it matter?