I purposely left portraits out of my previous post on aesthetics because by putting a person in the frame it automatically changes the way we look at it. In most cases, our eye goes directly to a person in the frame, or some human element, before we see anything else. This either makes common portrait aesthetics more simple than non-portraits, or more difficult.

Instances where the aesthetics of a portrait become simplified occur in many of Richard Avedon’s photographs. In his portraits, it is as if the person is the image and the actual photographic skills appear less important. Avedon’s true skill seems to be in his relationship with his subjects. The viewer becomes so drawn to Avedon’s subjects that the careful framing and tonality are noticed less. If one takes a closer look at most of Avedon’s famous portraits, they will find that in many instances the use of negative space is really quite unique and impressive. In the instances that it is not, it is usually because the subject is so completely captivating that possibly sacrificing the moment of the portrait to aestheticize the image is out of the question. In other words, the viewer is completely caught up in looking at the person that we can easily ignore average aesthetics.

Here is one famous portrait from Avedon’s series titled In The American West, notice the wonderful use of shape and negative space.

Rineke Dijkstra is another photographer that seems to concentrate more on the subject than aesthetics at first glance. Again, like Avedon and others, she focuses on interesting subjects, but she most certainly does not ignore aesthetics. In this photograph of a bullfighter Dijkstra utilizes a beautifully subtle color palate, and negative space to bring attention to the bullfighter. Also, the red tie and his cuts help the viewer’s eye to move throughout the frame.

While Dijkstra also photographs adolescents in a more straightforward full-length pose, the aesthetics in those images are also carefully considered. The lighting and the gray sky isolate the subject against the backdrop. The frame works perfectly to bring attention to every detail of their gesture. Dijkstra lets us believe that her subjects have personality and feeling, every one of her subjects has a presence in the frame that is undeniable. Part of this presence is due to the aesthetics.

Avedon and Dijkstra allow the subject to be themselves in front of the camera. They isolate their subjects, to focus in on the their characteristics. Both Avedon and Dijkstra seem to have an uncanny ability to bring a vulnerable fascinating element out of the people they photograph. The viewer gets the sense that each person they look at is not acting. Part of the reason it is easy to look endlessly at a photograph by Avedon or Dijkstra is that they set up the photograph to allow you to continue looking at the subject. This is an important, often overlooked skill.

If one is to photograph in this manner, they must realize that the use of negative space, the light, and the subject make an incredible amount of difference in how the images look. In portraits by Avedon and Dijkstra, these items are often subtle, and thus sometimes overlooked. Another reason for why a young photograph may fail trying to photograph in the manner of Avedon or Dijkstra is that the subject’s personality and presence is not enhanced by the photographer. Instead it looks like a mannequin was photographed, something that could be more interesting if it was a mannequin instead of a person looking dull. People just standing there, in fort of the camera, is not worth extended in-depth attention.

Hellen van Meene makes portraits of adolescent girls that are more visually dynamic than Avedon and Dijkstra.

Van Meene uses both awkward poses and composition to evoke a sense of awkwardness in adolescents. This is a very different tactic than what Dijkstra does in her photographs of adolescents. Dijkstra accentuates the subject’s own awkwardness through isolating them in the frame, van Meene does this by putting the subjects in odd poses and using somewhat unique framing devices. In other words, van Meene coaxes the awkwardness out of the subjects through her direction.

David Hilliard is a photographer who extends the frame with multiple photographs. By doing so he creates more than simple portraits, he creates complex scenarios about himself and his subjects, and their subsequent relationships.

Due to his technique, Hilliard creates an incredible amount of depth and visual movement. He tweaks the plane of focus to lead the viewer’s eye through the photographs. The other advantage Hilliard clearly gains, is the ability to stretch time. A photograph can only capture one moment, but since Hilliard makes multiple photographs to create one object, he has the subject shift poses throughout the images. This creates a scenario within the single artwork, through multiple photographs.

In portraiture, there seems to be two way of making portraits. One is to focus on the subject, make them important and visually allow interesting aspects of them to come through in the photograph. The other method, is to leave an amount of mystery in the person being portrayed. Make the subject apart of a scene that describes and informs the viewer about the photographer and subject and this all begins to tell a story.

In the work of van Meene, Hilliard, and Philip-Lorcia diCorcia, they bring out interesting emotions through what appears to be more set up situations. In many ways, the photographers are creating stories through their subjects. Typically in these kind of portraits there is a substantial amount of depth that helps to create drama. The important aspect of these portraits is that the surrounding area is nearly as important as the subject. The surroundings, the aesthetics, and the subject all play roles in informing the viewer about the photographer and the subject.

Obviously, not every portrait will fit into the above two categories. For instance, one photographer that appears to fall in-between these categories is Alec Soth. His portraits are structured in a fairly simplistic way, but they also tell a story as he connects his images (both portraits and non-portraits) through subtle free association.

While I am suggesting that there are two different approaches to portraiture, both methods have a slight bit of overlap as Soth clearly shows. Avedon and Dijkstra have the beginning elements of story telling in their subjects. Their messages are in groups of people. This might be because as humans, we want to both look at other people and we want a story about them. I find myself using both thought processes quite easily. I look and think about the individuals photographed, and how the photographer’s own personality might come across in such images. I also enjoy thinking about the stories that surround a differently structured photograph.

I would say the challenge for contemporary photographers trying to get their own portraits recognized, would be to try to avoid focusing on just one kind of portrait too much. If you photograph people to look at them and see what the subject is doing, great; but try to see a story develop in at least an abstract way. If you photograph in a pseudo narrative way, then do not forget to pay attention to the subject as well. Both elements are important to portraits. We want to look at people, but was also want to know about them. The greatest portraits seem to allow both to happen.

I heard numerous times in photo school students say something along the lines of “I photograph to remember.” I think that is an admirable thing to say, but for me it is probably one of the most difficult things to do.

I have been trying to read some of the accounts at The Photographs Not Taken, and while I have not yet gotten through all of them, the one’s I have read seem to focus on memory (which I guess it the point). Try as I might, I cannot actually get a true sense of the photograph that the person didn’t make. Instead I get an understanding of the moment and the memory. This is not a criticism of the entries or the project at all, but rather an observation and starting point for this blog entry.

I have tried and failed at attempting to photograph for memory. Yes, I have taken family snap shots, and even made some more serious photographic attempts to remember. I have often found that when attempting to photograph to remember the camera or the very act of photographing gets in the way of the first hand experience. What I read that was so interesting at The Photographs Not Taken was a fantastic sense of the moment.

As humans, we seem to have fairly good memories. I can remember in vivid detail very specific moments from my childhood, but I cannot describe it like I would if I was looking at a photograph. My memory seems to sharpen itself when I talk with family and friends about shared memories, suddenly things become clearer. What I am trying to say is, that while photographs can help us remember they are not the same as the memories themselves. And remembering missed photographs is also not the same as a photograph.

Instead of photographing to remember, I try to make photographs that I can learn from. The best portraits I make not only tell me something about the subject but the often tell me even more about myself. I remember when I made these photographs, everything I was thinking about was trying to make an image that would tell me something later. I was not necessarily photographing in the moment, but rather I was photographing looking ahead to how it might make me think when I saw the photograph for the first time. This feeling is probably best explained by the words I say to myself as I make what I believe will be my best photographs. I say, “this is gonna look awesome,” or something along those lines. I don’t say “that, what I just took a picture of, looked awesome as I made the photo.” I am only thinking about how it is going to look later.

I photograph more to learn than to remember. Once I have made and then learned from the photograph, I remember it.

As I mentioned in my most recent post about Andrew Bush, looking at several photographs of people driving sounds like it could become repetitive. Thankfully, it does not, because Bush manages to keep interest through varied subjects, movement (not necessarily the cars moving, but the photographs themselves seem to have visual movement), and humor with both the drivers expressions and cars as well as Bush’s own captions for the photographs.

I began thinking (again) about series of portraiture that have a strong repetition yet somehow the photographer and the subjects maintain a sense of interest and variety. The first two people I thought of are quite well known and have been extremely successful with their careers.

Nicholas Nixon has photographed his wife and her three sisters (Brown Sisters) annually for decades. Nixon brings attention to what photography does best, it records the surface and physical features of all subjects. The women age before your eyes. Through both their physical features and emotional representation, every sister ages. The series ultimately describes how a family changes as they grow older.

Rineke Dijkstra is most famous for photographing adolescents on former Soviet Union and American beaches. These images were mentioned twice in the recent post on Conscientious called “What makes a great portrait?” Like Nixon’s Brown Sisters, Dijkstra’s portraits are meant to be compared to each other. Through the simple visuals of a full figure in a static frame we can easily ask who looks more awkward, who looks wealthier, what nationality are they? The variety of the subjects makes the series, it is the only changing element in the photographs that is instantly discernible.Of course there are many other photographers that have a successful series of portraits.

Suzanne Opton, in her series titled Soldiers:

Opton seems to have created an iconic look to her soldiers that simultaneously presents them in a vulnerable way. By having the soldiers lay down upon their return from duty there is an interesting sense of both rest and relaxation from the timing and pose, but yet a strain and tension is present from the very same pose. This tension is ever-present in the soldier’s faces and expression. The portraits look and feel innocent and beautiful, with a sadness in them as well.

On another note, perhaps the most fascinating aspect of Opton’s soldier portraits is that they were publicly displayed on billboards in the Syracuse area.

Lastly, Jeremy Oversier, a fellow RIT student, photographed every fourth year Fine Art Photography major on a couch in his bedroom. As a series of portraits, the photographs document classmates as visitors as well as the ever-changing condition of the couch and room. It is the seemingly little care given to the background that adds so much interest to the series, as does the variety in sitting posture of recent college students. (If you look at the web gallery here you will find the portrait of me).

If there is room to expand this kind of photography, I believe it is in the effort of the photographer to not only try to capture similarities and differences as noticed through a series, but to also take the series and go somewhere with it. Many of the series mentioned above begin to do this, but they all also seem to fall short. I know the intent in most instance was not to make a story as I have suggested, but it does feel like a logical next step.

Perhaps the point is to build up a climax of a series of portraits with no end in sight. I think this may be why I so throughly enjoy the title “Vector Portraits” because in geometry a vector has a beginning and then it goes on forever. With such a title Andrew Bush implies that his subjects will continue to drive on and on. It is easy for the viewer to imagine the subjects driving on and on the first time they see the portraits. I enjoy how easy it is to connect to the drivers and drive with them. In general, I either want this connection and continuation to occur in more series, or I want a greater progression the in story told through the portraits. I don’t know which is more important right now.

I have been attempting to write Part II of my post on aesthetics to talk specifically about portraits since I avoided doing so in the first post seen here.

While trying to think of the proper angle to speak about the aesthetics of portraits I was reminded of one of my favorite photographic series called Vector Portraits by Andrew Bush when I saw this post on Conscientious. As Jörg points out, there are other “well-known precedents” to Peter Snyder’s portraits. I believe that Andrew Bush should be considered one of those precedents, but I am not sure how well known he really is. I enjoy Andrew Bush’s series of people driving because there is a great sense of movement while maintaining a terrific sense of humor. Despite the fact that it may seem repetitive to look at several photographs of people driving, these photographs maintain variety within the constraint.  This variety is amplified once the captions are read along with the photographs. The captions ultimately make the portraits “Vector Portraits”, adding a speed and direction to the image. Indeed, the series is quite dynamic with it’s variety.

Woman Meandering Through Various Parts of Pacific Palisades, CA, in the Early Part of 1993 While Singing

Man Heading towards Tunnel at 73mph on a Sunday somewhere in Southern California on an Afternoon in March, 1992

Upon looking for more about Andrew Bush’s Vector Portraits I discovered that he is having a book titled Andrew Bush Drive published of the series in the spring here. The book cover is below with the caption for the photograph.

Woman Driving South at 41 MPH Down 26th St near the Riviera Country Club at 1:30 PM on a Tuesday in February of 1997

From the Yale University Press Website about Andrew Bush Drive:

The culture of cars is an inseparable part of American life. Whether used for functional purposes or recreation, automobiles are expressions of our personality. They also represent the American ideals of freedom, mobility, and independence, providing a unique personal space that is at once private and public.

Andrew Bush (b. 1956) examines this tension between private and public in his remarkable series of photographs of individuals driving cars in and around Los Angeles—a city famous for its car culture. By attaching a camera to the passenger side window, Bush made these pictures while driving alongside his subjects—often traveling at 60 mph. Taking notes on the speed and direction he was going, Bush created extended captions for the images and called the series Vector Portraits.  

I first learned about Bush at a lecture by Jeff Rosenheim who is the Curator at the Department of Photographs at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. To hear Jeff describe the way Bush goes about making the Vector Portraits is remarkable, I am sorry that I cannot do it justice. Simply try to imagine a car accelerating and decelerating often to try to compose a photograph out the passenger window on the freeway all lit by a bare-bulb strobe. No, he never caused an accident.

My only reaction to such an amazing situation can be summed up in one word; brilliant. The whole process, concept, and final images are all equally impressive. I am excited to see what the book looks like.

Thank you, I Heart Photograph!

Now, they are putting together this: Is it possible to make a photograph of New Jersey regardless of where you are in the world?

I heart photograph’s latest “real world” project. we’re running a global open call for entries and responses will be included in the exhibition “is it possible to make a photograph of new jersey regardless of where you are in the world?” at the pierro gallery in nj. deadline is february 22nd. full details here.

Alex Baker already has made his image for it, you should too.

Pause, to Begin is pleased to announce that the book produced as a part of our competition will be published by Booksmart Studio in Rochester, NY. Susan and I have had the great pleasure of working with Eric Kunsman, the founder of Booksmart Studio, when we produced the catalogue to OX: CIAS Senior Show 2007. We know our second experience will be just as wonderful.

With the wonderful help of Booksmart Studio we will be publishing three different versions of the catalogue.

1. The Catalogue Edition, which consists of a hard cover book.
2. The Deluxe Catalogue Edition, the Catalogue Edition with a slip cover and it will be editioned.
3. The Limited Fine Art Edition Book, it will consist of a higher quality paper printed on a better printer than the previous two, and will be hand sewn. It will also include a print with it from an image within the book.

Booksmart Studio also has a gallery space called Gallery Kunstler. The Pause, to Begin Exhibition will visit there at a yet to be determined time because we are still currently working on having the exhibition travel. Stay Tuned.

Check out Booksmart Studio here.
Apply to Pause, to Begin here by April 1, 2008. We need applicants to make this a reality, so step up to the plate and apply now!

The process of making photographs can be a confusing one. I often try to explore with my camera, look at contact sheets and then revise what or how I am photographing.  This has frequently led to the development of a formula for making photographs.  I tend to operate within constraints and try to make something grow out of that by looking at subtle differences.

The problem with a formula arises when I  find one that works with what I am trying to do. At that point, I begin to ignore other photographable moments. Is it a problem when the artistic process becomes repetitive and selective? Is it the same as learning to focus on a project?

I look at many photographers that have well known work and many of them seem to have a formula for how they go about creating. I wonder how they get to that point. Is the idea there from the beginning, or does it develop from making work? I have come to realize that everyone uses some kind of formula either in how they see, or how they work. Sometimes, the formula is hidden in the work, but it is there nonetheless. A photographer may use their formula to get to a point where they can randomly create; in other words, their process is still formulaic.

I think formulas only truly present themselves when a photographer begins to work on a series. This is because if your goal was to only make a single image that was to always be by itself there would be no use for formula. You can make any one photograph and have it stand on its own. The formula is created when a photographer tries to make the next image in a body of work. How does one create a series that is void of formula and is only created off of pure moments of inspiration? The very notion of a series embraces the concept of using formula to establish consistency within the body of work.

Undoubtedly, formulas help us to create aspects of our images. The danger in them comes when it is the only thing allowing us to create, making each new photograph more of a regurgitation of the previous image. Your formula must allow for some wiggle room.

I believe that one of art’s purposes is to challenge our very notion of aesthetics.

The following is what I typically think when I look at photography.  I consider the aesthetics, maybe too much, but I consider them and constantly question them.  Almost everyone, myself included, reuses known successful aesthetics in their work.  It seems that photography today is less innovative visually and more conceptually innovative than it has ever been.  There is nobody that needs to prove that color photography is artistic, or that a point and shoot camera is.  All of these types of arguments have been made.  I wonder where we are going to push the aesthetics of photography.

It is no secret that some other more popular blogs than this one show work that is confined to a specific aesthetic or two.  In other words, a great deal of the work posted on other blogs looks quite similar to the post they made last week.  As a young photographer and co-founder of Pause, to Begin, I am much more interested in seeing aesthetics pushed to a unique level, or viewing something that challenges the way I see, than I am interested in seeing the same types of things over and over again.  Perhaps, you can consider this post part 1 of commonly found aesthetics: the landscape, cityscape, anything not portraiture.

There is an awful lot of large format color photography in the contemporary art world, and I see some trends that can look more like bad habits.  Now, to make myself perfectly clear, this post is not directed at anyone nor is it intended to suggest that I do not enjoy some of the large format color photography out there.  I both enjoy a healthy amount of such photography and the purpose of this is to inspire at least one person to try and push themselves to do new things.Here are some examples of work by photographers that I believe have helped to create the influx of large format color photography today.  The examples are of well known, older work because I think they help to explain why people may try to replicate their style.

Stephen Shore:

Joel Sternfeld:

Mitch Epstein:

Let us examine the photographs.

All of three these images are successful in part because they have wonderful depth, and they are extremely structured photographs.  The other important element in each of these images is the use of color and the palate.

In Shore’s photograph, the amount of rusty oranges and reds with bits of green throughout the frame keep the photograph active in a still frame.  Each of the colors exist in all three planes in the photograph.  The depth is enhanced because of the color that is so perfectly coincidental.  Even the light, which is fairly typical, plays an important role; it creates a shadow that seems to bring attention to the open car door.

In Sternfeld’s image, which was taken in my hometown of McLean, VA, has more of an intellectual depth created by the subject matter.  Once the fireman is spotted picking pumpkins a great deal of irony becomes the focus of the photograph and your eye goes back and forth between the fire and the fireman.  That said, the rotting orange pumpkins in the foreground, the pumpkin stand, and the fire in the background allow for a visual flow to make the photograph complete.  The photographic depth is quite similar to the actual depth at the pumpkin stand.

Finally, Epstein’s photograph is of essentially a flat field, yet with the use of the reflection in the window and the oranges against the blue, he creates five planes for your eye to go though starting with the oranges, the blue curtain, the car, skyline, and the sky.  Some of these elements actually sit on the same plane but because of the color, shape, and light these elements separate and sit individually.  Here the photographic depth is much greater than the actual depth.

Again, the color of the three photographs helps to make the images as powerful as they are.  One of the main culprits of boring color photography that seems to be everywhere these days is that fact that the color has nothing to do with the image.  In other words it is ignored.  In the cases that color is not ignored there are sometimes other problems.  Some are, the lack of form, the over use of space as a compositional tool, and the lack of depth.

According to Jay Maisel, a former student of Josef Albers, Albers said that color and form compete against each other.  This means that to make a photograph in color as opposed to black and white one must compose differently because you cannot use form and color simultaneously, they will counteract.  Edward Weston discovered form in black and white.  If you only photograph color, however, you might get something like Pete Turner.  He became famous for  doing just that, but thankfully some of his photographs still have depth while maintaining the sense of color.  I particularly enjoy this image of his from Times Square.

Perhaps Alber’s various “Homage to the Square” paintings are the perfect example of how to deal with the problem of form versus color.  Do you focus on the squares or colors more?  In most cases, I believe your eyes must choose one to see first.

Using space to compose seems like an easy way to get around the problem of form versus color because adding relatively empty space to the frame automatically minimizes the visual effect of the subject and it’s form.  More space often means more color and less form (Turner did this many photographs).  This stagey tends to quiet the photograph, unless the color itself is so powerful that it is loud (Turner, again).

If you are making an already quite photograph and you quiet even more by adding space it is probably going to reach a point where it becomes boring.  Joel Meyerowitz’s Cape Light photographs are quiet and use a lot of space to excentuate wonderful color.  His career long method of “pulling back” from his color street photography to ultimately Cape Light and Bay/Sky did quiet his photographs, but it did not make them boring.  It makes you notice something else.  So the tactic can work, but one must be aware of what it does.

Perhaps everyone should ask themselves as Tod Papageroge asks his students, “Why Color?”With all of the above in my head as I look at color photography, I wonder if I can ever look past the aesthetics and just focus on the concept, the thought, what the image is about.  The answer is yes, but the concept looks much better if the aesthetics are pristine as well.  Perhaps photography is lacking a certain number of brilliant visual thinkers to go along with the sophisticated image making you read about.  I hear about and read of wonderful ideas in photography every day online, but how often do you see a wonderful new photograph online that is as awesome as the idea?  I feel like this does not happen nearly enough.

I was reminded of the Sally Mann documentary What Remains recently when I was discussing museums and galleries with fellow Pause, to Begin blogger Susan.  We had both just seen the Edward Hopper exhibit at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.  As you might expect, it was a crowded show, but it was well put together containing not only the greatest hits, but also a majority of his successful earlier work.

Discussing the exhibit afterwards, I realized that since this collection of nearly every important painting Hopper made in his life was in an established museum it was bound to tell many of the holiday gallery goers that Hopper is a definitive, masterful painter of the 20th Century. That sentence may sound overly obvious, but my point is as soon as a work of art is displayed in a museum, opposed to a gallery, it has been decided by at least one person (the curator) that such artwork is of a quality that it is to be shown in an arena that is geared towards the masses, not simply the art community. Museums are also more of an educational space than a gallery. Museums inform us about things ranging from art to insects to dinosaurs. Galleries mostly show us popular art that can sell, and if the artwork in a gallery is not know to be popular then it still most likely looks contemporary. In other words nothing overly new and strange.

Hopper’s most famous paintings look an awful lot like photography created within the last several years. From color palates to composition and themes, visually a Gregory Crewdson photograph looks a lot like a Hopper painting. Clearly, Hopper has served as an influence to photographers beyond just Crewdson, but he is perhaps the most famous example. I think it is safe to say the Crewdson was educated in part by looking at Hopper’s paintings.

Somehow all of this reminded me of Sally Mann and one sentence that she said in the film. As she reflected on the whole process of the What Remains opening being canceled at the last minuet by Pace/McGill Gallery and instead opening at the Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington D.C., Mann said something about how in a way it worked out better because the show was now more accessible to her friends, and the Corcoran was showing the work because of it’s artistic merit not it’s salability. Mann also went on to speculate that Pace/McGill canceled her show because they thought that they could not sell her work.

Sally Mann was at a point in her career where she no longer needed a Chelsea Gallery opening to solidify her place in the contemporary photography art world, after all she is still represented by the Gagosian Gallery.

All of this brought to mind some of what I consider to be the most influential photography to young photographers today. The likes of Stephen Shore and William Eggleston come to mind, and they both had early prominent exhibitions at the Met and MoMA respectively. Their photographs are now iconic, just as Mann’s photographs are. To be shown in a gallery is wonderful, especially since there are some amazing galleries that only show the very best work, but to be exhibited in a museum is a testament to the artist’s place in their generation as one of the most important artists of the era.

I thought I was alone as I prepared to make my first blog post last week, but I was not.  I found out shortly after Susan made her first post that she encountered the same thing.  Then when I spoke to David, it was happening to him too!

We all had STAGE FRIGHT for our first blog post. Do any other bloggers get this?

This guy has a different kind of stage fright.

Then I found this, which has some valuable lessons.

I have assigned watching the above video as homework for all of us Pause, to Begin bloggers. Maybe it will help us pick up the pace. If I were a reader of this blog I would be getting ready for some sweet posting next week. If you are lucky, this will turn into a video blog too.