over the river

my family used to travel by car from Michigan to our home state of Iowa for the holidays.  we would always sing "over the river and through the woods" at the top of our voices as we descended the hill that led to my paternal grandfather's farm in Muscatine.  this memory will be indelibly, and audibly etched in my mind forever because my mother really, truly could not carry a tune.  she absolutely loved to sing and would wholeheartedly belt out each number, serenely oblivious to the cacophony she created with her voice and to her children plugging their ears and giggling in the back seat.

Lou and i will be heading over the rivers and through the woods of Pennsylvania and Ohio to Michigan at the end of the week, weather permitting.  i've heard rumblings from friends that a big snow storm may be brewing.  if it materializes we will wait it out.  but it's back to Michigan for the two of us as soon as possible...  hopefully in time for THE BIG Michigan State versus Michigan football game in East Lansing.

i do not anticipate that i will be posting here while we're back...  too many things to do and people to see, plus a super-duper slow internet connection.

i will be walking my brother's dog Lucky every day past this pretty little lake (or is it officially a pond?).   i do not know its name, but the geese love to hang out here.   it's tucked behind some apartment buildings off Abbot Road.

the city of East Lansing has created wonderful walking trails throughout town since i moved.  i plan to take my big girl camera, the 4x5, with me on this trip and take some pictures, especially here.

since i won't be writing for awhile, i want to wish you a scary Halloween, a peaceful November, and a fattening, family-filled Thanksgiving feast day.

please, do not shop on Thanksgiving.  spend it with your loved ones.  it's the best gift you can give them during the holiday season, whether you're traveling over the river or staying close to home.

see you when the show flies....

Janet Cardiff's Forty Part Motet

on Wednesday i was transported from my mind and my body by Janet Cardiff's sound installation at the Cloisters, The Forty Part Motet.  if you live anywhere near NYC, or you are planning a visit before December 8th, you absolutely, positively must make the trip north to Fort Tryon Park (the 190th Street stop on the A train) to visit the Cloisters and experience this in person.  it has been years since i have been so moved, so uplifted, so changed and exhilarated by a work of art.  it is a transcendent experience.

i have provided a link to the Metropolitan Museum page about the exhibition and a link to a Vimeo sound clip.  but really, believe me, i implore you to go to the Cloisters and sit quietly in the Chapel, surrounded by forty small speakers, and hear this magnificence.  wander among the speakers and listen to individual voices.  sit in the center of the chapel and be overcome by all the voices as one.

i'll be returning often, and staying long.  after this exhibition has closed, i will wish for the rest of my life that i could hear it once again "live."

http://www.metmuseum.org/exhibitions/listings/2013/janet-cardiff

http://vimeo.com/74720972

(this image of Janet Cardiff was taken in 1991 by Don Lee
during a residency at Banff to create her early piece Forest Walk)

Judith Joy Ross

this is an interview with one of my all time favorite portrait photographers, Judith Joy Ross.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S29dwdrMEh4

while i have seen most of her work, i had never seen her face or heard her voice before discovering this interview.  she looks and sounds exactly like she should... honest, open, a bit gruff, down to earth, real... just like her portraits.

i'm sharing this interview for several reasons.  i wanted to introduce you to the work of an artist i have long admired.  i first learned of Ross when i stumbled upon this image, i don't know where.

these three girls, all of them, are me in my early teen years... shy, modest,  a bit uncomfortable and gangly in their developing bodies, they are traveling in a protective gang into the big, intoxicating adult world just opening up to them.  i absolutely love this image.

in this interview Ross acknowledges the influence of the German portrait photographer August Sander on her work.  in fact, she boldly states she was copying him when she first began to photograph.  since i was recently writing about finding inspiration in the work of others, i find this honesty refreshing.  as she also says, a quick look at her early work makes it quite apparent she was influenced by Sanders.  but, as in all great art, she goes beyond Sanders, takes her portraits to a different place and puts her unique Judith Joy Ross mark on each image.

there is a profound difference between a portrait by Ross and a portrait by Sanders.  for me, it's the heart, the sense of a real connection between Ross and her subjects that i do not get from Sanders.  while i greatly admire Sanders work... it is technically magnificent... his portraits feel to me like a Bernd and Hilla Becher typology, nothing more than human water towers... cold, analytical and sterile.  Ross's portraits breathe.

this summer i took a big plunge and forced myself out of my safe, secure, comfortable cocoon of nature photography and embarked on a long term portrait project.  whew... i said it.  this is very, very challenging and scary for me.  i am painfully shy, so the notion of photographing actual living, breathing people, even ones i know and love, puts me into a cold sweat.  but, i'm going to do it.  and i'm going to do it with my large format camera.  i will keep you informed on how it's going.  but, for the time being, believe you me, i will be drawing huge gulps of inspiration from the work of Ross.

special no. 39

i am completely baffled by why this charcoal drawing by Georgia O'Keeffe stopped me in my tracks last weekend at MoMA.  what in the world is lurking in this plain, simple image that moves me so?

i did some quick online research and discovered that the art experts at MoMA feel this series of Special abstractions draws on "organic motifs" found in O'Keeffe's later work, and represents her "gender based expressions of self."  O'Keeffe herself said these abstractions express the "things in my head" as opposed to the things out there.

this does not help me in the least.  i'm puzzled by the title, Special No. 39.  why special?  why all the other specials?  one image titled No. 13 Special, while another is titled Special No. 9.  if you know, could you let me know?

in addition, i can't put my finger on what i'm seeing in this image that will keep me looking at it, and enjoying it for a long, long time.  it looks like round, plastic tabs attached to pages in a book, or an horizon line with two rising suns placed vertically, or tiddly winks, or chinese checkers, or god knows what else.

actually, it doesn't really look like anything, but it speaks, and that truly is the beauty of abstraction.  abstraction frees us, both as artists and viewers of art, from the constraints of representation and lets our minds wander wherever they may care to go.  what freedom.

how to be creative

i generally rebel against all "how to" stuff... how to save your marriage or how to win friends and influence people...  unless it's practical,  like how to repair a leaky faucet.  but this video  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=weIQIthC3Ks&feature=youtu.be    

is actually an interesting summary of recent research on the creative process.

i particularly liked the "nothing is original" section.  i have a very creative photographer friend who refuses to look at the work of other photographers because she does not want to be influenced by their output.  she wants her photographs to be "original" and hates it if you tell her one of her images reminds you of someone else's work.  we've argued about this incessantly because i live to be inspired by the work of others and believe my work is enhanced by this exposure.  great art gets my creative juices flowing.

this image by Hiroshi Sugimoto is a constant source of inspiration for me, as is most of his work.  the light, the tones, the mood, the quiet, serenity and simplicity of this piece put me in the right frame of mind to descend into the darkroom, or out into the world and create to my heart's content.

i may achieve good, bad or indifferent results, but i always draw upon the work of others, whether i know it or not.

Seascape: North Atlantic Ocean, Cape Breton, 1996.    Silver Gelatin Photograph

more magritte

sorry for running on, but i really enjoyed this exhibition and wanted to show you a few more personal highlights.  this was Lou's favorite painting, and one of mine as well.

i hope this won't sound foolish, but, often when i ponder the big questions in life... like why are we here, what does it all mean, how should i live... i often employ mental metaphors to try to answer the unanswerable. i think that's what all great art does.  it goes beyond words to imply or lead us to an understanding of life's many mysteries.

this painting made me think of a metaphor i often use to deal with the conundrum of whether we can ever really understand those huge philosophical/spiritual/metaphysical questions about life.

i don't know if this will make sense or not, but when i'm trying to comprehend my place in the universe i imagine myself as an a tiny acorn and wonder if it's really possible for me to understand the giant oak.  obviously, i'm the acorn and the universe is the oak.  if i'm lucky, i will grow to become the oak and maybe then i'll comprehend what it all means (but probably not).  while i'm an embryonic acorn, though, can i really know what it's like, what it means to be the oak?  can we ever completely understand the big thing we come from?

i think and hope that mediation or prayer, and, for me, looking at life through my camera, may allow this to happen in small doses.  we can catch a glimpse, a sense of what we emerged from, what we are constantly becoming and what we will return to when we depart our physical bodies.

while this painting was titled Clairvoyance by Magritte,  for me it's more like an awakening... patiently pondering the little things in life and slowly coming to an understanding of the bigger stuff, what is and will always be.

 

the human condition

i could not pull myself away from this Magritte painting yesterday.  with the crowds swarming around me, all i could think of was people standing before the Grand Canyon with their cameras glued to their eyes, or folks experiencing the Sistine Chapel through their cellphones, or parents witnessing the birth of their children on a video screen.

planted right next to me was a gentleman taking a picture of this painting in a painting with his i pad.  i kid you not.  (p.s.  ~ there were "No Photography" signs everywhere)

the times change, the technology changes, but the human condition remains the same.

The Human Condition

a day in the city

off to the city today to see Magritte at MoMA ~

http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/1322

which will probably leave me enthralled and confused.

if time permits, i'll check out New Photography 2013 ~

http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/1381

which will most likely make me angry... if past New Photography exhibits are any indication.

then it's off to the cheesiest cheese restaurant in Manhattan, one of my all time favorites ~

http://www.artisanalbistro.com/

to eat, eat, eat and drink wine to our hearts content with Lou's old friends from high school days, Dwight and Tina Daley.   they have been in the city on a Broadway orgy... a play a day, and sometimes two, since Monday.  and they're ten years older than me.

Allie + Patricia = Super Best Friends Forever!!

i started this blog to share my work and my thoughts on photography.  i hoped it might motivate me to work harder and to think more.  it has.  but it has also become an additional thing to feel guilty about, like unanswered emails.  i think it's because i put too much pressure on myself.  i feel like i have to be profound when i write here, and i never, ever feel profound.  as a result, i don't write in here, and then i feel guilty, and stupid, and nervous about writing again, etc. etc.  the good old vicious cycle thing.

because of this profundity/guilt trap, i'm going to lighten up a bit and make this blog more about sharing,  just plain sharing.... everything.... perhaps a good joke, maybe a great recipe, or the title of a book that really moved me.  it will probably still be largely about art, creativity and photography, because that's what i mostly live and breathe.  but i just can't fake being so studiously serious all the time.  it wears me out.  one of the reasons i love art and photography is because it's fun, and i want this blog to be fun for you and me as well.

to that lofty end, let me start by introducing you to the blog of a young lady i first learned of today, Hyperbole and a Half.  you may already know about her because apparently she has quite a following.  since i don't own a smart phone or i pad, and i'm not on twitter, or very adept at social networking, i tend not to spend much time online and, consequently, i am not all that up to date on internet-ish, you-tubey things.  i do know how to google, so i found out a few things about the fantastic mind behind this blog.  it belongs to a young woman named Allie Brosh.  she has been at it for a few years but hasn't written in awhile because she suffers from depression and went into a bit of a tailspin last year.  it seems recently she has begun to feel better (YAY) and is  returning to her blog.  there may be a book in the works.  one can only hope.  she reminds me of a young Roz Chast (another major hero of mine).

as a sample of her work, i've selected a piece i know you will like, Val, because you're a dog lover and it's about her dog.  i laughed out loud, and i'm a cat person.  here it is:

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/07/dog.html

i've only had the opportunity to read a couple of her past posts and can't wait to dive into her archive.

i feel happy.  like when you discover a writer you really, really love and learn that she has written forty-four previous books.  what a treat lies in store for me, and you too, i hope.