Photo by Lee Friedlander
Photo by Luigi Ghirri
- Looked at some of Curtis’ work with the Indian Americans. Some interesting masks and full costumes. Otherwise fairly standard portraiture stuff. Not super impressed. But it was the beginning of me learning the vernacular of shooting primitives. Not that it will matter. I’ll go out there and do work until I like the look of it. And if the past is an indication, it won’t look like what has come before. I have decidedly ambiguous feelings about looking at past work like this. It feels so dangerous, but I like doing it. Of course the answer is if I like doing it, well then I should. I’ll solve the problem of being overpowered by the past when I come to that bridge as they say. Or maybe that ocean?
- Also looked at the work of Luiggi Ghirri. I’m not sure how to feel, but I think I’m disappointed by him. He is such a soft man. His colours are light pastels and what he did when he did it is meaningful but only as experiments. I can’t see him saying anything particularly meaningful, or engendering and emotion besides say wistfulness. He doesn’t have a great eye for shapes either although he tries. You can see him trying. He seems to have also been a bit of a coward in not confronting people. But that’s unfair, because his art wouldn’t be what it is if he wasn’t like that. Reminds me of a Japanese girl or something. They must love him over there.
- Had a look at at the fantastic desert work by Friedlander and wrote a post about it. He is a towering master.
- Also started looking through his big MOMA book and it is fantastic. His sense of the visual is so strong, so experimental, so pervasive. He is always setting himself little visual harmony (or chaotic) challenges which he usually resolves beautiful. His negatives must be a fucking mess. But, but, but, it is teaching me a whole new way to look. Not for meanings, or subjects, but what is I suspect (and fear as I am so verbal, so analytical? (or is that a personal legend?)) is central to all the great photographers, but for sheer pleasure in seeing, in lines and planes, and shadings, and colours. At the risk of being zealot I really start looking at the world differently as I walked out. But it does create some complications. Because although loneliness and a dry, dark mirth pervades his work often his work seems to develop into just experiments. Winogrand did a lot of experiments too, but he had a story to tell in the end and kept his negatives hidden. I feel that Winogrand is the greater master, only because he was the greater man. Both were expert.
- Progress in my mission to find my forebears. I didn’t remember seeing the portraits of Friedlander’s of Jazz greats. But they look like my Architecture work a little. Square format. His colours are deeper, and richer. And of course, his subjects knew they were being exposed. A crucial difference. I need to write more about the looks that I’ve captured in my set. Currently it seems the pictures are a little light weight.
- Saw Sobol’s Tokyo book at the bookstore (talked to a chic girl there whilst doing it). It is kind of impressive. He definitely has a singular vision. I’m not sure that vision is necessarily deep or edifying, and I suspect that it won’t last if he doesn’t innovate away from the work that he has done. The scratchy bland white look is good and better than the millions of copies.
- At the same bookstore, saw the work of Paul Outerbridge from the 20s, 30, 40s. He did colour in a fairly sophisticated way even early on. But what I liked was a still life of an avacado and some other fruits. The Avacado was rotting. I liked that no nonsense sensibility. This ability to say this is the way it is. But not about war or something obvious like that, but to show the very foundations of nature is death and decomposition. Of course, it wasn’t grossly rotting. It would have still been nice on some good bread.
- What I have been reading that has been changing my world is E. H. Gombrich’s The Story of Art and it is rocking me to my foundations. Well, that’s wrong. It’s been strengthening the foundations of how I feel about making art/taking photographs at this moment in history. I know it is in bad taste but one must think of these things. I know so little about art history, and it is so fascinating through his words and opinions that I want to read the book again. I’ve been dipping in and out. Reading up before an exhibition and so on. But I’ve also read the last two chapters of his book which is about the contemporary scene and he is very good in pointing out how the bizarre is the most acceptable now. Such sense. I feel truly lucky to have run into people like him and Szarkowski and Robert Adams who make it seem all so serene and wonderful, this art game and real, and human, and worthwhile despite all the millions of people shitting everywhere. The reading has resulted in the In Joke post earlier, but I’m sure will result in more. It has made me think more deeply about they why’s and even the how’s than I ever have. I am starting to feel more confident that I’m getting my bearings. Not sure if I like where I’ve landed though.
Posted 2 years ago
