Photo Advice from Mom

On deer in the headlights, maybe you need to rethink your wardrobe and smile when you meet folks. A suit and tie and briefcase would shootdown the stereotypical image of a photographer.You would be the only one who is not in a shirt and leather jacket that are both oozing careless casual disreguarding the importance of the dress code. What would be wong with a photographer showing up in an Armani? No vest with pockets, looking prosperous and smiling because he is happy in his flash. Identify your struggle, put your plans on the ironing board and jump without a parachute and maybe just maybe you will land with a photo finish. The ride will be a glide to your never before seen side. Your lurking secret still unknown to you will follow each film you put in your camera. Your Midas touch will make its mark. The Minor picture will be born. Danielized. Advice from mom.

How'd You Do That? Well, I'll Show Ya

"Hey, how'd you do that?"

"Who shot that?"

"What lens did they use?"

Sometimes when photographers get together there are moments of rapid, crossfire shooting sprees.

These were from a recent breakfast, the first two being from one side, the last from my perspective.

Snap, snap, snap, snap, snap,

I Made The Annenberg Slideshow

Hey Campers,


Was just notified that I will be one of the thirty photographers chosen to show work at the Annenberg Space for Photography's initial slideshow event in Los Angeles on April 9th.

If you are around the city at that time it would be a great chance to check out this space, which is really remarkable. This is in conjunction with MOPLA, Month of Photography in LA.





ANNENBERG LINK

Rejected Again

A contact sheet, pictures of my mother, and the edited image.


I've said this before, but I'll say it again..I'm becoming an expert on rejection. Perhaps it stems from my high school days? Just kidding.

Was recently asked to submit for an upcoming book, a book that by all appearances, looks like it will be one I would have loved to be a part of.

But alas, I was rejected. I should have saved my rejection letters, emails, forms, imprints, messages, etc, from the past fifteen years. It would have been a testament to the need for recycling!

Seriously, I've been rejected in every way imaginable. I've even had stuff rejected that wasn't even looked at! No kidding. How do I know that you ask? Believe me, I have my tricks and ways of knowing. I'm sly in case you haven't figured it out.

I've even been rejected from things that weren't really open in the first place. Like an opening that wasn't really an opening, but nobody could really say that, so they go through the trouble of announcing and then I enter and get rejected, only to find out later it wasn't open in the first place. Does that make any sense? Even if it doesn't, I've been rejected that way too!

You might think that this really sucks, and in some ways it does, but maybe it makes us work harder the next time around. Or, maybe not.

I recently read something about an age limit, 35, and thought to myself, "Oh crap, now I'm 40, and I can see a new rejection method on the horizon!" I'm too immature to be this old. And irresponsible. And delusional. But I can smell a rejection on the way.

But, even with all these vibrant and celebratory rejections, there are still a few glimmers lighting my dark path. I'm waiting to hear about something now that will wipe this most current rejection away. Little victories, perhaps they are all we can ask for.

But, if this too ends in tragedy, I will remember that each protagonist has tragic flaws, and perhaps I have more than my fair share.

Godspeed rejections, I fear you not.

Self Portrait

Just did this self portrait, hope you enjoy.

The Mastermind

PALM SPRINGS PHOTO FESTIVAL LINK


For those of you who don't know, the end of March, beginning of April ushers in the fourth year of The Palm Springs Photo Festival Connect 09. I've been in the photo industry for a long while, and have attended just about every event out there, from festival to tradeshow. There are newer, international festivals I've not yet attended, but as far as the US is concerned PSPF is the best event going.

Regardless if you are a photographer or not, if you have interest in making pictures, looking at pictures, this is the event to attend.

The mastermind of this great stage is LA-based photographer Jeff Dunas, seen in the attached image.

Jeff knows more about photography than anyone I know, and I'm not talking about the nuts and bolts, which he does know in great depth, but I'm talking history, styles, books, prints, printing, collecting, etc, etc. There is no aspect of imaging that he isn't in tune with, which is very rare in this photo-world.

One minute he is mixing his own chemistry, toning and creating master prints, real, silver-based prints, and the next he is shooting tethered digital on an ad campaign or celebrity shoot. It doesn't matter what, or how, he just does it.

But enough of the unauthorized biography.

Back to the festival. Jeff, due to his history in the photography world, knows people, a lot of people, including the legends. He really does, and not only does he know them, but there is a mutual respect, which consequently is what, I think, is the foundation of the entire PSPF.

This year's lineup is one you have to see to believe. Workshops, symposiums, lectures, reviews, shows, projections, panels, interviews, parties and an atmosphere that is unrivaled. This is a real festival. If you need a dose of tech to quell your inner geek, you can get it. But if you need more of a intellectual study of the nuance of fine-art, well guess what, you can get that too. And, everything in between.

You could literally go, never say a word to anyone and still have a great time. Where else can you do that? Okay maybe the DMV, but that is it.

So, turn off the TV, get off the couch, put down the doughnuts and register people. If my threats aren't enough to motivate you, then how about a small taste of the lineup......


Larry Fink, Steve McCurry, Debbie Fleming Caffery, Keith Carter, Frank Okenfels, Jay Dusard, Greg Gorman, Juergen Nogai....

These are JUST a few of the workshops people! Oh, and this was just brought to my attention.....Duane Michals is coming too, just by the way...in addition...Duane Michals people.

It's time to saddle up and head toward the springs.

Santa Fe Lecture

Going to be part of a lecture and show in Santa Fe regarding the "The Soul of Photography." If any of you are around during this time, feel free to come by and have a look.

"That's Him Officer!

Over the years I've heard from many different photographers, from many other parts of the country, that say, "I could not shoot your style where I live," meaning my style was too arty for their client base.

I always wondered about this, thinking that perhaps there is some validity to the idea, but in the end I don't know for sure.


Case in point, magazine photography. Let's say magazine photojournalism, something I truly love and wish I saw a lot more of.

The PJ pictures of the past few years have taken on a slightly new direction, filling our pages with hyper-complex, tilted, dark images that, most of the time, I like, even when they don't work. These images are not easy to make, make well I should say, and I think about one out of ten actually does work. But, we see a lot of them. And these same images are landing on gallery walls, which I also like, again, even if they don't work. I like the idea that we are contemplating them.

Now, who do these images relate to?

The editors and the photographers, but I don't believe they relate at all to the vast majority of readers. In fact, I think most viewers when looking at a tilted image will immediately ask, "Why is this crooked?" I know because I've heard them ask it.
And when looking at an image lacking critical focus, or containing a motion blur will ask, "Why is this blurry?"

I think we tend to place to much in the "benefit of the doubt" category when it comes to those viewing our pictures.

I'm not sure how many people are going to give a hyper-complex, tilted, out of focus image the time it requires. I think these images are done for a variety of reasons, none of which relate to the viewer.

But here is the kicker. I don't think this should change. I don't think the photographer should stop making these pictures, or change their style. Why? Because then everyone starts making the same pictures, something we have seen FAR too much of in recent years. Don't believe me, take a look at the wedding field, or portrait field. In fact, I think in some ways, success today is based on conforming to the standards created by the industry itself. Safety in numbers?

Take fine art. What's been hot for the past few years, disconnected urban moments, in color, printed 8x10 FEET. Huge prints, based mostly on the reality we now have the technology to make these prints, and the idea that if it is larger it is worth more. Oh, and hyper-small editions. These are trends, and there are plenty of folks who have decided to chase this trend, which again I think is odd, but not something that should be changed. Why? Because within about a year, this style of work will be so flooded on the market that it won't be selling like it did, and it will force the market in a "new" direction. Open additions of micro-prints? Who knows. It might take longer than a year, but it will change.

I think what is so great about all this is it turns the mirror, once again, back to the photographer and asks, "Okay, here we are again, so tell me, what is it you really want to do?" The most difficult question to answer.

If you are living in small town, rural America thinking that "arty" work won't sell, perhaps now is the time to give it another shot. Or if you are living in hip-town, ultra-cool, double earring, flame shirt, suede pants land and want to shoot weddings in 3D while wearing your blue ruffle tux from high school prom, then I say go for it. You just never know, and if this is what is TRUE to your heart then it can never be wrong.

Let's quit standing around lining up to conform and show our true colors. Or true black and white for you purists out there.

We're all derivative, but let's not get carried away. In a police lineup, you don't want to be the person picked out.(not basing this on experience.) But in a photo-lineup you do!

One of the greatest aspects of photography is that there really is no right or wrong, only what we desire to do as the creative.

I See You

A few days ago I was drilling holes in my library wall in an attempt to install new bookshelves for my rapidly growing photo-book collection. I'm not exactly skilled at home improvement, so this simple gesture took all of my concentration.

By some miracle it worked. I hit the studs, the screws hit home, the shelves held, and as of a few hours ago, my books were still standing.

After the shelves went up, I slowly began to gather the stacks of books and place them on the shelves.

I noticed something that stuck with me throughout the day, the night and into the following day, like that cloud over Pigpen in the Peanuts cartoon. First, I should have made more shelves...idiot!

I also realized that my favorite books, and the photographers who made them, all had something in common; an immediately recognizable style.

All I needed to see was the image and it unleashed the power of their individual style, regardless of anything else.

Moriyama, Webb, Salgado, Mann, etc.

When I see these names, see their images, hear their names, it instantly creates a legion of imagery in my mind. Like fingerprints in their uniqueness. Like memories.

Now you might think this is an obvious point, but I don't think it is. Today there are photographers working who have this distinctive look and feel, but there are fewer and fewer of them, and if I had to guess, the future will reduce this number even more. And, some of the most successful of the current crop really don't have any style at all. Or perhaps their style is that there is no style, which can be said of cultures as well, some of which are thriving in this fashion.

Even Bruce Lee, when cornered on the boat on the way to Han's secret island, replied, "My style?" "You could call it the art of fighting without fighting." What? What he meant to say was, "I'm going to try my best to remove your head," but doing this could have jeopardized his employment at the tournament of death. When being hired to do battle perhaps you want to remain below the radar until you are called upon. Same is true for the photo world????? (This was a kick ass analogy. Get it? Come on, kick ass??)


I'll give you a photo case study. Me.

I printed in the darkroom the other day and created six new pictures. After I was done printing, and was in the process of the great, final wash, I realized these images looked like they could have been done by six different people.

Perhaps in some way, this could be a good thing, but I think overall, it isn't. It took me years to really figure out what my style was, years of trial and error basically. I do like different looks and formats, but I know what my style would be if I had to shelve everything and choose one thing.

I probably won't have to do this, but you never know. Being a photographer today, a real one, is so damn difficult, and with the current economic situation, it will only get harder, and a part of me thinks that perhaps the only thing that will survive is our true style. And a part of me thinks this is the way it should be.

I think with all the different kinds of work I have done in the past ten years, I've really lost a good portion of my style. I think the ONLY way to get it back is time in the field, time ALONE and time NOT on assignment, not connected to the constant chatter of the social networking sites, the blogs, the cell phone, etc, and return to the idea of disappearing into your mind and your vision.

I think sometimes we think you can make up for this stuff with gadgets, gear, post production, shows, press, etc, but I frankly believe this is pure charade.

When you strip everything down you are left with only the images. The tricks of today are the laughter of tomorrow, but when something is really strong, it stands alone, in need of nothing other than the viewer.

Images like this don't happen often, and can't be created later. They just happen, and typically, when they do, you know it. You don't need to see it because that 250th of second becomes a part of your soul.

So as I look into the near and distant future, I wonder to myself what it is I REALLY should be doing. Should I shelve the distractions, both photographic and otherwise, and commit to rediscovering my path? This is far easier said than done, but I have to consider it.

I'm older now, have responsibilities, so the layers of doubt, of question, of fear are far more complex and powerful than ever before.

I realize I've skirted the edges of the cliff that leads to "content" and know I would rather never photograph again than walk further into this style of photographic being where the bulk of images flash across your retina but never make the trip to your brain.

However, I did just read, I think, somewhere, that a significant portion of the public eats fast food something like twenty times a month? Did I read that wrong? But, if I didn't, it might explain a lot about photography as well. Ouch! Safe, expected, controlled, conformed, mainstream, dare I say....nope, can't say it. Remember the Bruce Lee reference.

I keep hearing, "Yes, but you have to make a living." Agreed, but is it better to choose this mainstream path, or do something else for your income and then work solely on "your" images for your personal needs? I think this second choice would actually be far better for my industry, and only far worse for my ego. A very successful photographer recently wrote a post about "reskilling" or "retooling" his life, learning another trade to make the living so that he could continue his work. I think that post was like a rifle shot to a lot of people. I know it was to me.

I'm fortunate, have a good business, one that I try to evolve and change every four to five years, and I really mean change. I have to work hard to keep changing and starting over, but it is totally worth it(All but the losing my style part.) I'm more alive today than I was twenty years ago, when it comes to making pictures. At least until my bookshelves come crashing down on my skull. Or they stop making film and I have no reason to shoot any longer.

I think it is a fantastic job, working as a photographer. It really is. However, I sometimes wonder if I'm at a crossroads, where I have to begin looking at a broader scene, but with a far more focused pair of eyes.

PS: the attached photos are unrelated, done while I was writing this. Just fyi.

Keep snapping.

Two Amazing People

Okay, when I was about six-years-old, I won a stuffed crocodile at Kings Island amusement park. There were plastic ducks floating in a small, fake river, and I chose lucky "13" and won this baby. It was as long as my leg, and I think I slept with it for at least a year, or until it got too disgusting to keep around. I'm sure it found its way into the landfill, and based on the materials it was manufactured with, it is probably still smoldering underground.

Point is, I was excited.

A few weeks back, Design Within Reach hosted a book signing with truly legendary photographer Julius Shulman, in his 90's, who was gracious enough to come down from LA and sign books.

My wife and I have a book, which we took to the opening to get signed.

However, in addition to our book, DWR also have a book raffle, which we entered.

I'm tooling around, snapping here and there, eating cookies, checking out "designed" things, etc, and my wife enters the raffle.

A few, short minutes later, they make the drawing and I can see over the shoulder of the person pulling the ticket. If you listened closely you could have heard me say, "I don't believe it."

Guess who won? Really, guess who won??? Three guesses. Guess.

Yes, my wife. And as evidenced by these images, her excitement level was on par with my "Kings Island Spectacular" from all those years ago. She even got a kiss. I don't remember a kiss at the amusement park. Too much "stranger danger" banged into my mellon to think about kisses.

So anyway, I'm hoping that her excitement wears off on the rest of the world. Is that too much to ask?

Here is a link to J. Shulman.


JULIUS SHULMAN

Snaps Ready for the Wall

Three prints ready for hanging. Just dropped them off this morning. Digital prints....wink, wink.

PS: previous post was in regards to my documentary work, nothing more, although I'm printing portraits in the dark now too.

A Kick in the Teeth

All readers should have a mid-80's power ballad on while reading this.



As I have stated in past posts, I've recently returned to printing in the darkroom after a fifteen-year break. What drove me to print in this method was many fold. First, I was looking forward to a new challenge. Second, collectors I had spoken with preferred silver prints to inkjet prints. And finally, and most importantly, my realization that I had little attachment to my digital prints.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with these digi prints, and in fact, in some ways, they might be superior to my traditional prints.

However, like I said before, I don't have an attachment to these digital prints, and in fact have destroyed many of them over the years. You monster, why destroy your prints? I'm glad you asked.

Let's look back ten years into our glorious past. There I am (Vest, mullet, huge glasses). Shooting, editing, making prints. I do a story, make my edit, get my desktop printer revved up and begin to spit out sheet after sheet of pure genius.

Fast forward two years. In some cases, my sheets of pure genius have become sheets of magenta madness. Or, perhaps the prints were still neutral but my digital darkroom skills had progressed far beyond where they were. Or, perhaps my latest, greatest desktop printer had been replaced with a newer, fancier, smarter model and I realized, "Well, I guess I should reprint these things."

So, what do you do with the old ones?? Me, I shredded them.

And before you go thinking I'm a kook, alone on an island of temporary, destructive insanity, think again. I'm not the only one.

Who has hung around a tradeshow minutes after the closing bell? Huh? Anyone? When the construction crews come to turn the building into an ice rink or monster truck stomping ground?

Guess what you see in PILES around the floor. Prints, many, many, recently printed "works of art," tossed aside like that soggy pickle that comes with your BBQ plate. (And yes, I know about shipping costs, but I have NEVER seen this done with analog prints.)

Here is my key point...brace yourself.....

Something happens to us, all of us, when something becomes really, really easy.

It, whatever "it" is, loses something.

We don't have to fight for it, and consequently, part of the magic, the mojo, the blood, is lost. Well, actually, it isn't lost because it was never there in the first place.

This also applies to the front of the equation. Making images at high rates, with absolute ease, with less commitment, also dilutes the image gene pool.

Imagery, like our prints, has become disposable.

Again, you can think I'm a kook, and perhaps I am, but think about it. What have we been led to believe? Imaging is now "Fast, cheap, easy and if you don't like it.....just throw it away."

I can't imagine this NOT having an impact on the perception of photography, right down to it's very core.

I heard one editor recently say that they edit approximately 250,000 images PER WEEK!!! Let me say that again....PER WEEK!

How is that possible? And I'll bet there is someone out there right now saying, "Oh man, I see a lot more than that."

And I'll tell you why I bring this up.

I just had a MAJOR gut check.

The day I finally realized I was headed back in the darkroom I also realized I had to pick something to print.

That's it. I had to pick something.

What? What do I print?

Before, I printed it all. Bingo, bango, it spit out in minutes and I had myself a humdinger print.

But now.....now.... I have to REALLY THINK about what I'm doing. This new print won't be spit out. It won't be fast. I will have to work for it, sweat for it, concentrate, and focus on only the image. I will have to transform it, read it, sense it and make it live.

And you know what? I really didn't know what to print.

Suddenly, my images were not that good. Print after print, made digitally, and with ease, didn't make the cut.

My gut check was realizing that over a twenty year "career" I could probably "edit myself down" to twenty images for my entire life.

Ya, how you like them apples? Talk about getting kicked in the teeth. It's painful, but in some ways it is a really nice pain.

The pioneers of this field, this endeavor of photography, set the quality and commitment bar a long, long time ago, and I have to live by that code, that bar, otherwise, I'm part of the dilution process.

Tomorrow I will return to the darkroom and tonight I will once again have to face.....myself...and the truth, however painful, of who I am visually.



It is now okay to turn off the power ballad.

AMT: Super Dynamite Update

You might look at this photo and wonder, "Who is that?"

Is that the world's smallest bank robber?

Is that the world's smallest Zapatista rebel?

Nope, it's AMT: Super Dynamite showing off his new ski mask. He wears it well.

AMT: Super Dynamite

I wanted to showcase another recent book cover, this one a small chronicle of my other nephew. He might look like a tiny man, but good things come in small packages. Some call him by his first name, some his last, and perhaps a few by his middle name, but we refer to him by his mancode...

AMT: SUPER DYNAMITE

Time Away

Over the years I have read about many "old school" photographers who say that after they are done with a story, or an essay of photographs, they will set it aside, waiting a few weeks, a few months, a few years to finally sit down with it.

I always thought this a little odd, and being a child of the 1980's, my mind has always been about the right now.

In the words of Homer Simpson upon arrival of his first microwave oven, "What do you mean I have to wait thirty seconds, I want it NOW."

For years I never even made contact sheets, preferring to edit straight from the negatives, and knowing in my heart what I had on film even before it returned from the lab.

Now I make contact sheets, which are easier to see, and also give you a far better idea how something will print, but even still, I realize now might not be enough.

As I've noted here in the past few weeks, I've returned to printing in the darkroom, the best thing I have done in my adult life as a photographer, and yesterday I went in to print three images from a story from 2006.

These images I have printed before, digitally, and one of them has been shown twice. The contact sheets I have seen many times before.

But something strange happened yesterday. I made my first print, and as I was putting the negative back in the sleeve, I noticed an image I had not printed before.

"Wow, how did I miss that one?" I thought to myself.

So I printed it.

And as I was putting that one away, I notice another I had not "seen" before, even after looking at that contact sheet many, many times.

I made five new prints yesterday, most of them being "new" to me.

This is somewhat of a frustrating concept because it makes me realize what a rush I have been in, perhaps for my entire "career," but the positive far outweighs this small fact.

I've got the negs, and can now return and see what I have really done all these years.

I'm realizing, more and more, that speed has no place in my photography. There are times when I have to do shoots that are based on speed, but I'm hoping to do less and less of those. This bucks the current trend in imagery, where most everything is needed five minutes after it is produced, but I'm okay with that.

I think in times like we are now living in, and those times we and staring into, you have to proceed, not with caution, but with your heart.

In the end, your heart and your negatives are all you will have left.

Production Line

So, I had to make 27 copies of the same image, in 11x14. Stop! I know what you are thinking..."Print them on the inkjet man, save yourself a major headache."

Well, of course, that would have been REALLY easy, and depending on how things turn out, I might have to, but I went the long and winding road and made 27, 11x14 silver gelatin prints!

I was like a stone-age assembly line worker, cranking them out, ONE at a time. It took all day, but I think....think...it was worth it.

They are all different, which is great, even though I was trying like hell to make them all the same. But, that is why I wanted to do this run in this fashion.

Each person getting one of these babies is getting a unique object. Not just a print, but a unique print. And, the destination for these prints is, for me, really important, a destination that I really very lucky to be a part of.

So, I go to pick them up today, then try to flatten them all. Fingers crossed.

By the way, I didn't choose this print for the political statement it makes. Obviously, this image has a political statement, but for me it was simply about found art. In the middle of nowhere, out in the vast expanse of rural America, someone sprayed this. I just found it an interesting statement more than anything else.

Cover Me

I make books. A lot of books. I love making them, and I love the feeling the client gets when they see these things.

Most of the books I make are kept private, but a few are public and out there for others to see. However, many of the private books are compilations of images that I really like, so I thought I would share a few of the covers.

All of these books were done in the last month or so, a few of the nearly eighty books I have made to this point.

More...

more recent snaps, 16x20's.

Elf Boy and the Massive Guns

Okay, some recent snaps of the nephew, one of them, and the unveiling of his new tattoo, wink, wink.

I gave him the nickname "Elf Boy" this holiday season because he came up with this odd little dance and hand clapping move that was really strange, but also fascinating. He looked like a demented elf, hence the name.

I had to badger him to do these images, of course, because his nine-year-old schedule is so packed with critical things like football throwing, video games and doing the elf dance.

I shot a grand total of twelve images this time, but hey, you get what you get.

Western Land

Marfa, Texas.

Prior to this last trip, the last time I was in Marfa was when I was in school. I had driven west to explore Big Bend and had taken a quick pass through the small town, a town famous for it's petroleum past as well as it's dance with the Hollywood elite.

But, other than the occasional movie poster, there was little reference to the outside world. Marfa was, and still is, about the landscape, and what people do on that landscape, namely ranching. Unbeknownst to me, modern-art was also a part of this place.

With the arrival of Donald Judd, the face of Marfa was etched with new lines, those of world-class, minimal art, and the shock waves of the creative set began to emminate from this tiny, rural community.

Judd Foundation

The roots of Judd began to take hold, as did his footprint on the community. The landscape took on new objects, those beyond the cow and oil pumps, as the ferocious, West Texas wind now blew past enormous, outdoor art installations. Buildings once used as government offices and barracks were now massive warehouses for permanent Judd installations.

I'm not sure how the locals felt but I would imagine they were somewhat shocked by it all.

Being in Marfa today is a little different. Again, I had not been for many years, but it was somewhat odd to see ramshackle homes sitting next to brand new, contemporary art galleries. I wondered how the locals felt about the art world coming to town.

We arrived late on a Sunday and in Marfa's case, the art community is closed on Monday and Tuesday, as is much of the town.

Finding food can be difficult, unless you are like me and like nothing in this world more than a gas station delicacy of some sort.

Frankly, I found the energy in Marfa to be a little...offset shall we say. I wondered if the art world was tolerated due to the money they bring to the community or does it go beyond? Do the locals turn out for the openings? Is there truth to this merger , or has the town become just another "must see," on the hipster map of the United States?

I don't have any answers. As usual, I was on the move, only staying in town for a little more than a day, but I wonder just how things play out. I wonder why Marfa? And will this idea continue, or should it? There is a vastness to West Texas that just sucks you in, but a part of that vastness that is so important is the lack of humans.

You won't find two groups of people more different, ranchers and artists, but perhaps, in the end, that is what will save this place.