Death Valley

Over the New Year's weekend Sydney and I took a road trip to Death Valley. Ignoring the getting trapped for 3 hours on I-15's Cajun pass by the returning Las Vegas crowd and the snow dropping below 2500 feet it was a wonderful trip. Sydney brought her new Canon G-12 that Santa left in her sock, and I my very old Super Graphic that I got for a song. The uploaded images are from her camera; my sheets have yet to be developed. She shot 300 images, I 30. There were photographers all over the park, mostly amateur, but by the looks of the some of the gear I saw there were many serious amateurs and a few pros in the mix. Except for one other guy porting a 4x5 everyone was shooting digital.

If you've read any of my previous posts you know I am stuck in the middle between analog and digital. Let me tell you it's not a very pleasant place to be. Digital photographic technology is expanding so rapidly that if you're not on top of it you're eating binary dust with one hand still holding your film camera. During our trip there were moments where I felt very stupid and archaic carrying my heavy tripod and film holders. It would have been much worse if Sydney wasn't assisting me. She shot with her G-12 and simultaneously assisted me. I've got the best wife!

While on the dunes we ran into a couple of French-Canadien photographers, Remi and Guillaume. When I walked up the dune breathing heavily due to the long climb up and down the sand with my 4x5 and heavy tripod on my shoulder to where Remi was shooting I noted he was using a neutral density gradation filter to darken the sky of his image. I jokingly announced "A gradation filter, while that's cheating!" They got the gist of my joke, because gradation filters were used long before the digital camera was created. Well, in ear shot was a another serious amateur who took offense to my joke, and yelled rather coarsely "Why is it cheating!" I didn't reply to her hostility. She didn't get that the joke was on me.

Remi was kind enough to show me the affect his filter had on the sky. The only filters I use are a yellow and a red to darken the blue skies or add contrast to my black and white images, yet I was very impressed with what I saw on the back of Remi's camera. I chatted with Guillaume and Remi for a while and was very impressed with their knowledge and gear. They had everything they needed professionally organized in their photography backpacks. They had modern gear and they were young and mobile. The sun was setting, the contour shapes I had trekked nearly a mile to photograph were fading and still to far away. I didn't have a lens to capture to make an image, so I returned to the car feeling very dejected with Sydney trailing me happily snapping away with her G-12. I began doubting myself thinking I was an old stubborn codger stuck in the past.

Yet this was New Year's Eve and I was not about to let my doubts spoil the evening. Before dinner Sydney and I toasted the end of 2010 by sipping on a wonderfully cheap Napa Valley sparkling wine. At the Stove pipe Inn we had the worst Cornish Hen ever placed on one's plate, yet after dessert we went to the bar and were actually, at least I was, entertained by the band consisting of a couple of old rock and rollers. I capped the evening off with a shot of Jameson Irish Whisky. We were back in the room by 10:00 pm and due to the long day of driving and hiking we sadly passed out about an hour before 2011 began.

The following day we travelled a couple hundred feet below sea level to Badwater. There it was magical. The pool of brackish water was deep enough for one distant visiter to Kayak upon. It also created marvelous reflections and there were a plethora of tourists making photographs. Perhaps I was reveling in optimism due to the new year but my bad mood from the day before had dissipated, and once again I unfolded the Super Graphic. But this time I didn't bother myself with what everyone else was shooting. I just concerned myself with my image, and what I could do with my analog camera. I don't know if I took any memorable images; I'll just have to wait to view the results upon development. If I have any keepers I'll show them to you in a future post. But I do know that when I am making my photograph I've kept the demons at bay and I'm content. Until then Happy 2011!!

Down River

Yesterday. I was cruising Belmont Shores the hip beach section of Long Beach for images. The sun was nicely diffused by some residue cloud moisture from the previous day's rain. I eventually meandered my way to the Alamitos Bay side of the peninsula. The tide was low and laying neatly along the beach, parallel to the shoreline, was a column of debris. The refuse was an olio of plastic, styrofoam, tree branches, and other crap that had made the long journey from its origin, the streets of East Los Angeles county. Most of it had probably already been in the storm drains, lying dormant until it was swept up by the recent rains and finally flushed through the storm drain's intestines flowing into the San Gabriel river and eventually swept out to sea. Conversely and ironically this junk finds its way back to land by the eastward ocean currents emanating from where the storm came. Dumped on the beaches where it now rests for those who live in very nice coastal properties to view while sipping on their morning coffee. This debris was able to survive the long journey because it's an entwined mix of floatable and hardy non-biodegradable detritus. One, although I would not recommend it, could safely walk barefooted on it because its sharp edges had been worn smooth due to its long eroding journey along asphalt, concrete, the ocean's bottom, then finally buffed by the fine sand of the beach. The debris would not entice such strong feelings of disgust if it consisted merely of broken branches and other naturally occurring organic matter; however, the ugly imprint of modern civilization has it's footprint all over it. I picture, staring at a remnant of a Styrofoam cup, someone however long ago discarding it after exceeding its purpose without thought or consequence. To that at best uneducated person it was only a useless expendable cup, but multiply that by hundreds of thousands and what results is what you see on my post. And what washes up on the beaches is only a minutia of what ends up in the ocean. Where do all those cigarette butts go that you see smokers toss out of their cars. Do you think those butts are biodegradable?

There was another photographer also documenting the mess. He blamed the debris on corporations for producing the non-bidegradble mess. This made me laugh, knowing how the new congress will attempt to whittle away at environmental regulations enacted under the Obama administration, which they label as job killers. I disagree with my colleague. I say, look no further than us. We did this.

Keeping it Analog

In Brian's last class I showed my tintype of Larry. This image, taken directly onto a tintype with an 8x10 camera, with 300 mm lens wide open at 5.6, was a 4 second exposure. Fortunately, Larry was able to hold very still. I am still learning how to spread the emulsion onto the plate as you can see by dark spots on the edge of the plate. I feel they work for this image, but my inability to spread the emulsion evenly made many of the plates unusable. But I got one, and in the end that's all that matters. You can have a successful shoot if you have 99 horrible images but one great photograph. Likewise, you can have a painfully unsuccessful shoot if you have thousands of just good images.

One of the other students asked me if I would ever do a tintype from an inkjet transparency-- a contact print. I answered absolutely not, just like I can't imagine making a platinum/palladium print from a digitally produced negative. To many I might seem stuck in the past, which admittedly I am, but I consider using digital technology to obtain an analog affect cheating. It's an insult to the masters. She seemed a bit surprised by my response.

As is in most instances the better answer came to me much, much later. What I love about making tintype images in camera is the result is first generation-directly from light rays to emulsion, very much like a polaroid. There is also the mystery of not knowing I have an image until after the required fix time and I turn on the light in the darkroom . The bottle of Ag plus does not come with a film speed, although after some trial and error I start by assuming it has an ISO of about 1/2. And it doesn't hurt to play it safe and overexpose it. But that's the magic of the tintype process-- it's inexact.

On the other hand if I was to make a tintype with a digital transparency it would be indirect; the image would have to make its way through at least two computers (I consider an printer a computer), and the soul of the image would be lost in a binary code. And what you would see embedded in the tintype would not be nearly as magical.

Artistic Profile

Hi All,

In August the city of Lakewood sent out a video crew to film me at Phantom Galleries where I had my show, Lakewood, a Photographic Journal of Sacred American Journal. I thought Jerome Academia, who produced and edited the piece did a marvelous job. It's a bit awkward for me to watch myself. As I can so easily see the flaws of my photographs; I can, likewise, see the flaws of my character. Cheers....http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4yEbtLsM1rU.

Billy

Sydney and I recently visited the Los Angeles County Museum of Art primarily to see the current exhibition of William Eggleston. I have been an admirer of Eggleston’s work since I was introduced to it about ten years ago. Like many other of my contemporaries his pictures have and will continue to influence my own. But this evening rather than just appreciate Eggleston’s work, (Actually, I can never just appreciate photography, when I look at the work of others I have a terrible habit of torturing myself about my work. If I wish to merely enjoy art I’ll view sculpture and paintings, two mediums I have no intention of dithering in) I wanted to understand why his work is so revered.

I acutely studied Eggleston’s Color Dye Transfer Prints. The simple answer to my inquiry is he is a genius. He was/is able to do with a camera and color film what Miles Davis could do with a trumpet, Brando a script, Picasso a brush, and Updike a typewriter. They could take the same instrument their contemporaries used but do something their contemporaries couldn’t: take something simple and make it brilliant. William Eggleston was born with the innate talent to see an angle that composed a normally mundane chromatic scene into a two dimensional masterpiece.

In the forward of William Eggleston’s Guide, the book originally published in conjunction with Eggleson’s exhibit at The Museum of Modern Art in 1976, John Szarkowski explains that before Eggleston photographers were struggling with color film in their camera. Color photographs were either taken without consideration of the hues and form was ignored, or with pretty colors being the focus resulting in an image that, “comprises of beautiful colors in pleasing relationships” (Szarkowski 9), yet substantially meaningless. Eggleston was the first to be able to organize colors the way the greats of black and white photography mastered the composition of shadow and highlight.

Within his images I feel the touch of a jazz musician, an improviser of scenery who can twist a note or extend a beat that tickles the ear, or in Eggleston’s case the eye. In some of his images the scene is classically composed in perfect thirds as if to demonstrate to the viewer that he knows the rules. Then the next image, a famous photograph, of a white man in a suit in front of a black man wearing a white jacket both to right of a white car. At first glance this photograph is unsettling because it appears unbalanced. Yet, like an unmelodic Stravinsky opus it grows on me and I begin to admire its offbeat ness. The open car door, the pairs of trees that fall off into the background, the similarity of the two men’s posture and melancholic expressions, all sustain, within a monochromatic brownness, a 3-4 tempo that swirls around and around the white man’s red tie.

Many before me have tried to dissect Eggleston and his photographs, and from what I have read and seen the artist gives very little insight as to what motivates his imagery. Alfred H. Barr, Jr., a director at MOMA suspected that the inspiration for most of Eggleston’s work radiated “from a central circular core.” Eggleston’s response, perhaps a bit flippant, was that the composition of his work was based on the Confederate flag (11). This description is appropriately implied, not in composition, but in the theme of the photograph in the preceding paragraph. The references to the old south are obvious. Even though the two men stand in a similar pose there is a droop to the black man’s shoulders. Standing behind the white man, his white jacket without a tie, suggest the black man is subservient. The reference to the days of the confederate flag could not be clearer and more painful.

Eggleston once noted that he was at war with the obvious, and from my point of view there isn’t an obvious credo to his work. It’s feel and nonintellectual. Eggleson’s famous exhibit at MOMA in 1976 was initially harshly criticized. Hilton Kramer reviewing for the New York Times wrote, “the truth is, these pictures belong to the world of snapshot chic” (Weski). Perhaps there-in lies the answer to my original question: Eggleston was apt at conveying so much with an irreverent click of the shutter, and southern life of the 1960’s and 70’s is explicitly there.

Szarkowski, John William Eggleston’s Guide. New York, NY: The Museum of Modern Art, 2002.

Weski Thomas “William Eggleston: “The Tender-Cruel Camera.” American Suburb X February 2009

Tintype

I apologize to my dedicated followers for it has been much, much too long since my last post. And I promised myself when I began this blog that I would write at least two entries per month. Well my post before this one was nearly two months ago--bad Tom, bad blog writer. My excuse is: I was distracted by politics. Those of you who know me, know that I have a passion for politics and that I get distracted by it. I volunteered way to many hours on getting California democrats elected and proposition 23 defeated. Numbers wise my efforts did not make much difference, but it felt good, even though I was sacrificing precious photographic time, to be a part of the effort that smashed the right wing wave at California's border. I can't imagine upsetting to many of you with this post for I'm sure few of you reading this post are politically minded or are Republicans. Which reminds me that in a future post, when I stray from photography once again, I would like to write why is conservatives suck at art.

But this blog is about my photographic process and not politics, so let's proceed. The last assignment in Brian's alternative photography class at Long Beach City College was to make a tintype photograph. Once again I would be going outside my box of comfort. I do not know if it's the same for other artists, but for me to try something new I sort of have to be pushed into doing it. It's why I suppose I enrolled in Brian's class. I purchased the Tintype kit from Rockland colloid Corporation. The kit included the metal plates, the liquid emulsion, which contains Silver, the tintype developer and a standard Kodak film fixer. I found the trickiest part of this process was spreading the emulsion on the metal plates. There is no need for me to go into the technique, because like everything else you can find it on-line. I will, however, write that spreading the emulsion on the metal plates is an incredibly messy process that is done under safelights and requires many unsuccessful attempts before acquiring the knack of spreading an even coat of emulsion onto the metal plate. Once spread on it takes, depending on weather conditions, about a day for the emulsion to set and dry. Patience, an attribute I am still short on, is key.

It's possible to make a digital negative than make a contact print onto the emulsion. Everyone in the class did that exept me. What would be the point of going through the trouble of creating an archaic photograph using a digitally manipulated negative? I did some test images to ascertain, or at least within the ballpark, what the ISO of the emulsion was. The tech people at Rockland told me it changes from batch to batch. And I'm sure the ISO of emulsion varies depending on how thick it is spread on the metal. With that I can tell you it's very slow, perhaps ASA 5.

Because of my political distraction I was late getting prepared for the assignment, so I was unable to test and practice with tintypes as much as I would like. I shot the 4x5 tintypes in my Super Graphic 4x5 camera. And I am quite sure the shutter speed on the 135 mm Super Graphic lens is way off ( I need to get the lens cleaned and tuned), so my exposures were a bit of, or should I say a lot of, an educated guess.

Yet, more challenging than the tintype process was conceiving a subject matter that I thought was appropriate for the medium. As always with these things it didn't come easy. After much brain strain the idea finally came. My neighbors nephew, who comes by quite a bit to go on bike touring rides with his uncle and aunt passed by, and as soon as I saw him the light inside my thick skull turned on and I knew Jonathan would be perfect for this project. I normally see him with his two brothers. All three are good looking lads, but Jonathan is uniquely handsome. I can't say for sure where the idea to photograph him came from. More than likely it is an amalgam of all the images I've seen since I became interested in photography. I can't even say which photographs were influential in my thoughts. However, I'm imagine I was influenced by the portraits of Irving Penn and Walker Evan. Yet I am certain some of the inspiration was drawn from my days as a model. I could easily imagine Giorgio Armani selecting Jonathan chiseled face for his fall/winter 2011 men's line. Whatever the inspiration I knew Jonathan's face would work for this process, and as you can see for yourself it did. His expression is that, not of an old soul, but certainly of one that has endured hardship. Except for the haircut, the image is timeless. The streak on the left side of Jonathan's face is from my uneven emulsion application. The scratches on his right side are from the removal and replacement of the dark-slide. These mishaps accidentally work and compose the photograph perfectly. Unfortunately the original tintype is too dark. Of all my emulsions this is one that came out the lightest, and it is even underexposed. And a day after the image was fixed with each passing minute it appears to fade and become darker. If I am to continue this process I must find out, if possible, how to prevent the image from completely fading. Nevertheless I sense I am on to something, and I am considering taking this process to a higher degree. I promise to keep you posted. Cheers for now.

Pinhole Sex

It's rare when art and pornography work well as an ensemble. I am sure there have been directors of pornography that were good at creating visually stimulating-no pun intended-work. But one does not usually view pornography for art's sake. I think I either read or heard that the average length of time one views pornography at a sitting is around 7 minutes. My experience is closer to 3. That does not give one too much time to appreciate the presentation. Of course there have been some very talented fine-art photographers who have explored pornography and its world: Larry Sultan's ironic and satiric images in his ouevre The Valley sardonically examined the blandness behind the scenes of the porn industry. Terry Richardson's raunchy fashion work illustrates that glamour and porn rub more than just elbows. Robert Mapplethorpe's extremely controversial yet beautifully photographed hardcore X portfolio shocked even the art world and raised the question: where is the line drawn between art and obscenity? Timothy Greenfield-Sanders larger than life clad and unclad diptychs of porn stars reveal the ordinariness of the industry's celebrities. Pornography is a billion dollar recession immune industry. It's everywhere, and as much as we try to avoid it we still cannot avoid clicking that link. So, it is only natural that art explores it. Yet, where does the artist find himself within his work? And how do we know the work is art? Is our judgement tainted by our excitement?

Last week in my alternative photography class, where I had least expected it, I saw a collage of imagery that was pornographic, artfully done, and, I am bit embarrassed to admit, arousing. Pinned to the wall amongst all the other pinhole images of my other classmates were about twenty prints of women in the middle of intense sex; however, all that was visible in the photographs were their heads. It was evident these women were in the midst of copulation by the intensity and lust of their expressions. They were all attractive and young, and my first guess was-- the author of these photographs must have been a woman to have been able access such emotions, or these images were outtakes from a set photographer on a porn video shoot. The number and uniqueness of the work was so completely different than those of my other classmate, including mine, that I thought this presentation was from another class, a different project. Mixed within the erotic head shots were images of splattered red on black. Initially I had no idea what these photographs meant other than to give the viewer a break from sex. I felt like a voyeur viewing this work.

Our assignment for this project was to build a pinhole camera-see my previous post-then make a photograph. Most of the class photographed something simple; the challenge of making a proper exposure with a unconventional camera was creative enough. Yet, Shinichi Ishikawa took it much further, much further. He downloaded clips from the Internet, found then froze the frames that suited his objective, then he photographed them with his pinhole camera. With a combination of cardboard and "a lot" black gaffers tape he rigged a pinhole lens to his Hasselblad . He set brightness to the max, turned off the energy saving mode, and shot Polaroids of his monitor to check his exposures. He opted for positive film to capture his images, because he wanted true colors and he believed "using positive film would give his project a positive interpretation." He aimed a red laser pointer at his pinhole rig to make the splattered red on black images. These photographs he explained represented the girls' climaxes.

Shin's project is conceptually brilliant, and I believe will one day be exhibited in a museum. I look forward to viewing more of his work, and he has inspired me push my own envelop further. Finally, I admired Sin's pinhole images for much longer than 3 minutes. Perhaps that's what separates art from pornography: art of pornography arouses long after the climax.