
Todd Deutsch has a new project he's been working on - Gamers - but the whole gaming world is so alien to me that while I can take a sort of academic interest in the work, what really speaks to me is his Family Days photographs




Thoughts on photography and what inspires it - books, poetry, film, art. And various other ramblings.
"I’ve been open for over four years now, and by artworld standards, the work at my gallery is really affordable. By real world standards, a lot of people who come through the jb want to buy art, but a $2000 (or a $1000, or even a $500) photo is beyond their means. I’ve been puzzling over how to create a way to make great art available at affordable prices and 20×200 is my solution.
The concept is simple: Prints in limited editions of 200, for $20 each. We’ll introduce two new editions a week: a photo one day and a fine art reproduction on another. These prints will be high quality work done by great artists. You’ll be able to sign up for a membership, buy gift certificates and have opportunities to buy larger pieces at affordable prices too..." more
"Toshio Shibata's landscape photographs are perhaps most extraordinary for their startling sense of scale, their meticulous, indeed excruciating detail. After immersing ourselves in them, we realize that the man-made structure--usually a dam, or something designed to bring a stream, and sometimes land, under control--is at odds with nature, not just technically, but spatially. Indeed, geometrical structure and nature inhabit their own spaces, but the vastness of the overall space Shibata photographs makes clear how irreconcilable they are. Shibata turns the traditional nature/culture duality into a nature/technology duality..." (from Artforum)
"It is impossible to surmise what would have happened to ones' life in another situation. Nevertheless, thinking back over the past twenty-five years the isolation that I experienced living in South Africa forced me to look 'inward' rather than than seek answers from others work. I have always believed that the most important source of inspiration should come from the process of understanding one's existence. I have been very fortunate as photography has allowed me to delve into my interior and externalize it..." more
From 1910 to 1913, Atget, who made many of what he called ''documents'' to sell to architects, stonemasons, antiquarians and sign makers, tried something different, something verging on the political. He hauled his wooden camera to the city's outskirts. The photographs he took there make up his two outsider albums: the ''Zoniers'' album, pictures of ragpickers and their homes and yards in the ''zone militaire,'' and the ''Fortifications de Paris'' album, pictures of the ramparts lining the city....
Take one of Atget's photographs of a ragpicker's digs at the Porte d'Ivry. There are baskets, wheelbarrows, pots and rags as far as the eye can see. Another picture, taken elsewhere, on the Boulevard Masséna, is at first glance indistinguishable from the first. But if you look closely you can also find a few broken-down chairs and, thankfully, in the foreground, a little white figurine, a tiny dancer with her hands raised seductively behind her head. Ducking behind a post, she points the way to a different world. In this place, she seems to say, it takes time for the eyes to adjust. Just follow me.
And the fortifications? In one sense, they are easier on the eyes. The fences and rampart walls are like train tracks moving off into the distance telling the eyes where to go. But location is still a problem. At the vanishing point of one fortification fence, in a blaze of white light, stand three figures. It is hard to tell which side of the fence they are on, within the city's borders or without. And how does this photograph, taken at 18-20 Boulevard Masséna, relate to Atget's picture taken at 18-20 Impasse Masséna, a dead end? It seems to show the other side of the fence, with a forlorn liquor store and a cat posing neatly in the yard. Did the men in the first picture beckon Atget to take a picture of their store?
And why did Atget spend so much time photographing what looks like a factory, La Bièvre, at the Porte d'Italie? The ''Fortifications'' album has four different views of it. The gallery has two of these. One shows two blurry trees standing like sentries to the left of the factory, which has slatted shutters on its top level and a half-timbered ground floor, all resting on stilts planted in a muddy river. A more distant view of the same site melds the two trees together, but gives some prominence to several white barrels standing in the river.
Why did Atget focus on this particular building? Maybe just because it was there. Or maybe it was, as Ms. Nesbit writes in the gallery guide, to ''let a chaos have its points.''
It was not simple to find words for the rags, the scraps, the garbage that began to arrive in the modern picture around 1912. Apollinaire, looking at the pasted papers of his friends Picasso and Braque, told the reader of his new book on Cubism that "mosaicists paint with marble or colored wood. There is mention of an Italian artist who painted with excrement; during the French Revolution blood served somebody as paint. You may paint with whatever material you please, with pipes, postage stamps, postcards or playing cards, candelabra, pieces of oil cloth, collars, painted paper, newspapers," It was all of it "less sweetness than plainness," he explained, for in modern art one does not choose. But someone else has chosen. Walter Benjamin, looking over much the same material in the pictures of Schwitters, saw the choice to be radical, politically speaking. And Atget? Atget did not take the scraps so literally into his pictures; rather, he chose to photograph them. His way of photographing involved the pursuit of something that initially might be called clarity....
...He showed the ragpickers at home, which was also at work, living with the things they had gathered and were sorting down, preparing the saleable materials for the cycles of resale, or weaving baskets on the side. His pictures did not move to close. The ragpickers had been physically pushed to the limit of the city, to the flats of the old fortifications that encircled Paris then. Out of sight, beneath mind, the ragpickers lived beyond the rhythms of the city’s modern life, eking a living from its waste and taking their distance. Atget let that distance expand in his pictures. He showed he approved it. Theirs was a life and a labor that could not by summarized, triumphantly or synthetically, by a form. It had to be shown as open and closed, surface and substance, the gist of the substance unknowable finally, always revolting, running away.
And despite all the anti-war and left wing influences that can be detected in this work of Atget's, there is still a strong focus in the Zone Militaire of the persistence of nature. As someone pointed out: "perhaps he just liked trees"
"A while back there was a question in a thread about how an artist got a show with the gallery. I don't discuss specifics about individual artists here, but that question got me to thinking about the reality of the situation, and I figured it's time to revive a few ideas already shared and perhaps dispel a few ideas still floating out there. Also prompting this was an email I received on the topic. It's one of the most charming emails I've gotten asking for advice, but I honestly cannot afford to respond to each such email, so I'll work from it to flesh out my thoughts here:
I write this fully aware that many versions of this letter are sent to you in some variation by other versions of what I am: Artist With Questions. For introducing dialogue, I suppose this is your punishment. I follow with interest the advice you put out and the conversations that follow on your blog and should thank you for extending yourself. Thank you. I think it's generous and rare for the Chelsified to reach out to the art-stricken with their unwieldy ways, gooey hearts, and dirty fingernails. On that note, perhaps you could advise me as to who to approach with my work. I feel fairly gall-ridden and brazen asking this of you (hence the embarrassment of adjectives), but frustration trumps humility finally. I am not asking you to consider me for your gallery, no, rather, I am looking for one of those signs shaped like a finger pointing somewhere, preferably in an appropriate direction. I am a Brooklyn artist having a hard time getting anyone to even look at my work. (I am legion.) So, please look at my portfolio and respond when possible." read more here"Oh, and finally...never, never, never, never, never...walk into a gallery with your actual artwork in tow. Let me repeat that: NEVER".
(I guess you can be excused if it's to MoMA...)
(Photograph:Robert Frank on the way to the MoMA. Photo by Michal Daniels)
And after so long away, I really notice how very distinct the light in England is.
DeLillo is smart enough to avoid stating the obvious, that after losing his real father, Nick is sent to a school run by multiple "fathers". One of the priests asks him to describe a shoe. "A front and a top", he answers. "You make me want to weep", the priest says, proceeding to name all the parts of a shoe including the flap under the lace, the tongue. "I knew the name", Nick says, "I just didn't see the thing".
"You didn't see the thing because you don't know how to look", says the priest. Because "everyday things lie hidden", he adds; "everyday things represent the most overlooked knowledge". These are "quotidian" things - "an extraordinary word that suggests the depth and reach of the commonplace". This may be DeLillo's way of explaining how to read "Underworld", but he's also telling us how to live.
(pictures - David Hockney)
...In fact, what Mann was seeking, with the willing participation of her young subjects, was an honest record of childhood and growing up. But what she recognized from the start of her project was that nothing about childhood is uncomplicated. It’s not the knowing but the uncertainty, on the part of children and adults, that most distinctively marks this territory. The first picture Mann took in the series, “Damaged Child,” shows a little girl who looks beaten, when in fact she has been badly bitten by gnats. But the viewer, with only the visual evidence on display, is left to wonder exactly what is going on. For all its absurd clarity—and every picture in the sequence is a marvel of composition and printing—this photograph nails our inability to ever know the whole truth about, well, about anything, but certainly about childhood first and last...
"Two contrasting articles made their way across my desktop recently, offering rather different views of where the market for fine art photography stands. I read a good number of photography-based blogs, and have assumed the market was blistering hot, but then I read Ana Finel Honigman's post on The Guardian's blog and got all confused:
Collectors are still shying away from investing in photography, reflecting the medium's ambivalent status in the contemporary art world. [...] The unique issues around collecting photography initially arise from the medium's reproducibility. On the surface, collectors concerned with diminishing the value of their investment seem wise to stick with unique objects and shy away from mediums that can be made in multiples.
I have to admit, that strikes me as an out-of-date analysis. Take for example this opposing view recently expressed by Brian Appel on I Photo Central
.... Soaring prices and the influx of cash is providing a welcome boost for collectors who got in early. Once considered risky and on the fringe, these seductive photographs that describe the 'hyper-reality' of modern media or consumer culture are now THE hotbeds of critical and market attention...."
He goes on to suggest it may be a regional thing? read the whole blogpost here
The goal of Mr. Stulik and his fellow scientists is to produce, sometime in the next few years, a door-stopping Atlas of Analytical Signatures of Photographic Processes, a chemical characterization of every known (and, until now, some previously unknown) means of making pictures. The other day on the floor in his lab he and an assistant, Art Kaplan, unfurled a partial compendium of their research to date, a Santa’s-list-like paper chart more than a dozen feet long enumerating in small type the materials they had already identified in different types of photos.
The research could have an impact not only in the world of photo conservation — a relatively young practice that got under way seriously only in the 1970s — but also in the practice of authentication. With auction prices for masterwork photographs skyrocketing, definitive evidence that, say, a vintage Lewis W. Hine really is vintage and not a later print can mean a difference of tens of thousands of dollars in its price. (Several years ago Hine collectors were shaken when a number of prints made after he died were passed off as being vintage.)...
“In essence this can start to rewrite the history of photography,” said Grant Romer, director of the advanced residency program in photograph conservation at the George Eastman House in Rochester. “It’s already provoked a sort of crisis in the understanding of what we think we know about some photographs.”
"The Muse of photography is not one of Memory's daughters, but Memory herself." John Berger
"The photograph isn't what was photographed. It's something else. It's a new fact." Gary Winogrand
"The basic material of photographs is not intrinsically beautiful. It’s not like ivory or tapestry or bronze or oil on canvas. You’re not supposed to look at the thing, you’re supposed to look through it. It’s a window.” John Szarkowski"Facts do not convey truth. That's a mistake. Facts create norms, but truth creates illumination." Werner Herzog