Thursday, February 24, 2011
Ekphrasis and Plot Readings
Ekphrastic indifference is our initial response to the notion that visual and textual mediums could represent the same thing – we feel it is impossible for writing to perfectly describe a picture, or for a picture to perfectly illustrate a piece of writing. Ekphrastic hope occurs when we recognize the possibilities offered by the tools of writing, such as metaphor, to depict indirectly what we see in a picture (and vice-versa, in considering the visual tools of different artistic mediums). This phase also involves our realization that in language, or “linguistic expression,” we are often attempting to represent something that is not there – something visual, or an idea. In this sense, ekphrasis becomes more of an everyday thought and speech process. Ekphrastic fear is a resistance to the possibility of a total overlapping between visual and textual representation, with ekphrasis being utterly successful and the idiosyncratic aesthetic value of each medium adulterated.
Advantages/Disadvantages for a Collaborative Project
Ekphrastic indifference:
This approach is useful because it reminds the two creative minds involved that their work is inevitably going to vary. They should not attempt to fully illustrate the other piece of artwork or writing because it cannot be done. Therefore, they should work to convey a sense of meaning related to the work they are partnered with, or attempt to do something completely different, but in some way tangentially connected. A disadvantage to this approach could be going too far with it, and expecting that there is no possibility of a positive interaction between the two mediums because their conveying of the subject matter cannot be aligned at all. This would certainly be a fallacy and eliminate a lot of fascinating possibilities.
Ekphrastic hope:
This is probably the most positive approach to work from, because it involves respecting the tools of each medium to figuratively convey another piece of work. It acknowledges the creative possibilities of each medium, and looks for the best methods specific to the medium for portraying or otherwise alluding to another work. Disadvantages could involve relying too heavily upon these tools, so that what you are trying to do as an artist becomes to readily obvious to the viewer. One might also be too descriptive, and “tell” literally what is going on in a picture or text rather than “showing” it through more innovative ways or providing a tangential description or story.
Ekphrastic fear:
This can be positive in that it reminds the artist/writer that there is value inherent in each medium that can be preserved, so that the work is not merely illustrative, and the two works do not simply mesh in their portrayal. This could also be a limiting view because it might engage the artist in the binary opposition that Mitchell describes in the second half of his article. In fearing overlap between the two forms of expression and consciously pulling away from this, the artist might elevate his/her own medium and the role it can play in analyzing another artwork. The artist then becomes a voiced “self” projecting itself into a voiceless “other,” his/her role “masculine,” acting upon and disrespecting the resistance of a “feminine” artwork.
Travis
We continue to make narratives out of spaces because we have hope for the way our own eye will see them as distinct from how they have been seen before. We recognize immense possibility in spaces (especially as artists, visually minded people). We angle ourselves in juxtaposition with the subject to create new shapes and perspectival distortions, imagining them within a four-edged frame. There are so many possibilities of different objects to align, and so many possibilities for statements (or disorienting uncertainties) to be made by doing this.
The photograph exists between the matter of fact and the narrative world. It is possible to separate the “where” and “when” of the photograph’s creation, as Travis describes in Joel Sternfeld’s different projects. This has to do with the “temporary permanence” of what is behind the frame, as it is captured in a sort of death-like state, though we view it at a time in which that place or subject has changed. We then, as viewers, revive the “death” by filling in the time element, and a narrative or explanation – with or without the aid of text given to us by the photographer – through our subjective consciousness. Unlike the matter of fact world, Travis explains, photography withstands time, and new knowledge doesn’t discredit it. It maintains a relevance and meaning, unlike outdated mathematics or biology. Though the photograph appears, originally, very “matter of fact,” humans throughout history have learned about their world through narrative. Our inclination to this form of understanding causes us to project narrative into a still image, though not fully independent of the photographer’s intent as expressed through framing and juxtaposition.
Regarding Valery’s comment, all art forms have something to offer that no other art form has. For example, though both have and use the tool of metonymy, it is going to look very different in a Cubist painting versus a poem by Gertrude Stein. Although the ekphrastic process can create very tight parallels between mediums, they are still going to materialize very differently – resulting in very different material objects. Valery also engages in the fallacy of assuming language must be descriptive. He says that language has been “released” from having to convey anything accurately, as if the only purpose of language were to provide explanatory accounts of natural phenomena. Language can also convey imaginative/unnatural phenomena that cannot be seen with the eye (or camera), or convey natural phenomena in a distinctive way.
Winogrand’s statement involves the idea that we are freezing a certain juxtaposition of reality within a non-natural, rectangular frame when we photograph. Having been born in the last hundred years, we have grown up with photographs and family albums, let alone experienced four-edged paintings and drawings. We have been conditioned to value this shape as a representative art form. We want to think of ourselves as creative individuals, and we are, so we expect our “framing” of reality to be unique. Winogrand’s comment also alludes to the camera’s viewfinder – we are looking through it as we photograph, scanning reality until we freeze it just how we want. We have to be looking through the viewfinder, however, to reach this “controlling” of reality and determination of our creative process and its potential outcomes.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Third Group of Readings
Monday, February 21, 2011
Second Reading Response
Second Readings - Analysis
Knowing that Frank spent over a year arranging and editing the photos makes me aware that I should be creating work for my final book throughout the semester, in order to have the time to do an effective job of editing. Frank was so certain of the ordering and titling once he had come to a resolution that he never altered them in subsequent editions. I really appreciated Greenough’s comment that in “coupling brilliant insights with rigorous editing, Frank had created a non-narrative, non-linear but distinct, cohesive order… in which images play with and modulate one another in ‘streaks of invention’… calling forth new ideas that no single photograph alone could elicit.”
I thought that Frank’s perspective was interesting that the artist shouldn’t discuss his or her art after creating it, but that the art should be able to convey what was intended – and also that the artist’s commentary might prevent the viewer from developing more personal and novel interpretations. The artist may not even be able to explain his or her creative process that effectively, as seems to be somewhat true of Frank. Other writers have provided a much more lucid commentary than Frank, as cited in Greenough’s article.
Reading these articles, especially the one on Japanese photobooks, made me think a lot more about the difference between montage and isolated images on spreads. I am interested in what that does for the experience of looking through a photobook, and what it says about each of the photographs. Though Frank used isolated images on spreads, his use of juxtapositions in sequencing point to a disparity and opposition between groups of people rather than a feeling of national unity. Issues of politics, wealth, religion, race, American iconography and opposites become prominent. The MoMA lecturer spoke of Frank’s focus on icons and ideals to demonstrate the things that people place their faith in, which become suffocating delusions. Americans can be largely inattentive to reality but heavily focused on perfected pseudo-realities that we will never attain – the fallacy of the American Dream.
The article on the Japanese photobook by Moriyama described books as the best medium for the immediacy of contemporary Japanese photography. This was very interesting to me in having thought about the photobook as opposed to gallery form of presenting photography. The explanation of the history and development of the Japanese photobook was very useful. Dyptics seem to be prominent in these photobooks, with images filling the whole page and juxtaposed in ways sometimes jarring and not flowing with content or form. This emphasizes a dialogue between the two pages and the importance of the spread as opposed to the individual page. This is definitely something I want to work with in my SLP, and the examples in this article are incredibly inspirational.
It is also interesting to think about the effect of having no margins, so that in flipping the page, you are inevitably touching part of the photograph – this really eliminates the “fourth wall,” so to speak, bringing the photograph into reality and the viewer into the photograph. Despite the three-dimensionality of the page, having no margins still does something strange in the minds of people used to reading books with margins. It makes the book more like a magazine, which we look at differently than textual books. We are drawn into the experience of viewing a magazine, which is something obviously intended by their producers. Reading about the importance of sequencing, editing, and layout has definitely made me think differently about my project and the possibilities out there.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Second Reading Response
From this, it was interesting to see Frank shift his interest towards the focus of movement as a subject, capturing things that move and things that respond to his movements. Going to bars filled with cowboys and taking photos of his subject’s with their back’s turned and faces partially obscured “as if they were about to turn and confront him.” I think a lot of this also has to deal with the intimacy of the photographer to the subject, lying on the edge of immersing oneself into a completely different realm, in this case Frank not only in America but in a bar setting that he probably wouldn’t normally set himself in, especially if travelling with his family. Most of these photos also have bad lighting and are out of focus which suggests that he didn’t even look through the viewfinder when snapping the shots. This though I think was done more for secrecy from violent, drunk cowboys in a 1950’s bar. Another aspect about Frank that I liked was how he traveled and focused on different things, things that were unexpected and unfamiliar. Though from traveling Frank had to experience things that would end up shaping his photography such as racism. Like the Mississippi boys calling him a communist and the sheriff telling him that he had one hour to get out of town, and even being stopped by the police in Arkansas because he was “a shabbily dressed foreigner whose car with New York License plates was heavily loaded with suitcases, trunks and a number of cameras.” Frank said that incidents like this only increased his passion for the people on the street and his determination to make them “the meat of the book.” Also, these incidents have made him fearless and willing to photograph anything, which to me made him a much better photographer. Now he could have the ability to capture whatever he wanted, because regardless he would most likely still get barraged with racist comments. Another aspect from the reading that I found interesting was the fact that Frank said that Americans had incorporated religion into their lives and “transformed it into a commodity to be purchased and consumed,” like crosses with Christ placed in stores above racks of merchandise. If this was the issue going on during the 50’s, then it’s surprising that it’s still continuing today. I don’t think it’s as prevalent as it was during the 1950’s but I do think that the idea of turning religion into some sort of commodity that can be bought and just placed back into the world of production is something to watch. While continuing to read the section just on the years of 55-57, I found it interesting that Frank had ultimately traveled more than 10,000 miles over a year, photographing every step of the way, and knowing that when he got back that he wanted to do a photobook, and he wanted it to be just right. Frank stated that the editing process allowed him to “come into the core” of what he wanted to express, so he spent 3 to 4 months just editing. Everything from the sequence of the book to the paper quality and book size was what Frank found to be important to the photobook technique. This is very true though, because otherwise the book is just another book with photographs placed in it.
In the next set of reading’s titled Resisting Intelligence: Zunich to New York, the author continued to talk about Frank’s photography and his career. One interesting thing that I found while reading was that Frank was moved to see the “impact that a group of photographs could have when united in a book,” and he looked at photography as a “seductive mean of communication and a way to define issues of national significance and personal importance.” One last thing that Frank stated that I found to be really provoking was towards artwork in general, stating that “to come out with something that is personal or will not be understood, to satisfy yourself rather than the public, that’s the important thing.” This is something I strive to do with my photography and all of my artwork in general, to be as unique as possible and to continue doing your artwork regardless of what anyone may say or do. The third set of reading’s titled Transforming Destiny into Awareness: the Americans, Frank said that he wanted to express his opinion of America in his photographs and reveal nothing less than what he perceived to be the kind of civilization born here and spending elsewhere.” I think that Frank simply wanted his photographs to tell the absolute truth of what he thought of America and what he thought should be shown to America’s audience, which at times wasn’t always good. One really interesting fact that Frank stated about the sequencing process of the photobook was that he used the allure of the human face and the power of the gaze to move readers through the book, and how his photographs echo his act of looking, so the viewer get’s to experience the photograph as if they were actually there.
In the last set of readings on the Japanese photobook, I found a lot of really unique fact’s that I didn’t expect from Japanese photobooks at all. For example, for magazines the format goes by photographers sending in monthly installments which could be anywhere from 2 to 16 pages, and the better the spread, the more likely it is that the photos will be reproduced in a book format. It seems that the photographs are judged just as much as they are here in America which actually isn’t that surprising; the mass media’s need for good photographs in a medium that will be shown probably all over the world has always been prevalent. Another topic that I found to be interesting was the fact that Japanese photography was first looked at as the aspects of Japan but not what was current in Japanese photography, up until the exhibition at the MOMA in New York. One last thing that I found to be pretty cool was where the author said that “in many such books, order is abandoned in favor of the trial and error pairing of images on a spread.” This is something that I do so that thing’s don’t get too complicated, although sometimes you really need to pay attention to the order and sequencing of the photographs, especially if it’s going into book format. Overall, I really found all the readings to be inspirational to the order and process of making a photobook, from taking the photographs to actually making the book, choosing a theme and making everything work as a whole. The process may be difficult but it is definitely one that’s worth doing to make a unique photobook in the end.
Readings 2
The first time I looked at Robert Frank’s, The Americans, I thought it was a random collection of images of
It was cool to read about the process that Frank went through and how his experiences, rather than his ideas or intentions started to take over the project. In the beginning, he did not know how complex and difficult it would be. He wanted the photographs to be poetic and beautiful. His list of symbols and places provided a framework for what to photograph, but his observation and experience expanded the content of his photographs. As an outsider, he was able to see things that Americans could not, such as what impacts the ways they interact. He said the segregation and racism of the south was a completely new experience, but he also found a group of Americans he could relate to as an outsider. His experiences exposed him to the truth of
I have had similar experiences when working on projects. Once I start taking pictures, I realize what is really true or possible about my idea. It is like a scientific experiment. I start with a hypothesis and a way of carrying out the experiment, but I learn what will work and what will not by doing the experiment.
His style of photographing also changed. He realized the breadth of subject matter and symbols was immense. He could not spend too much time thinking about taking the picture. The quote from Allen Ginsberg, “First thought, best thought” is good advice. When I think too much about when to take a picture, I miss the moment I was waiting for. I try to take pictures when I feel it is the right moment. I end up with a lot of pictures, but one of them is the moment I wanted.
Some of the things Frank discovered in his travels were things I had never thought about before. For example, he noticed that the rich were harder to find because they stayed out of the public view. The public was made up of middle and working class people, whereas the rich create a private world for themselves as seen in Frank’s photograph of the woman at the charity ball.
The first time I looked through the book, the sequence of the photographs seemed to be random. Now I realize that Frank was telling the story of American through the juxtaposition of opposites. Sequence does not have to be chronological or geographically organized to be narrative. Frank makes comparisons to show the diversity and inequality he sees and he uses reoccurring symbols throughout the book to reinforce ideas and tie the book together. I like the idea of the photobook being like a poem which must be read over and over again to understand. Every reading reveals new layers and a deeper understanding. It reminds me of a poetry class I took where I did not fully understand the meaning of the poem until the teacher explained it.
Japanese photobooks present very interesting and innovative ideas and ways of using the photobook form. American photobooks, like Frank’s, The Americans showed subjective pictures. They challenged the idea of photography to objectively show the world. Japanese photographers took this idea even further by completely separating photography from its potential to document or tell a story. The photographs themselves were objects and this was reinforced in the blurry, grainy aesthetic. If you cannot tell exactly what the picture is or what the context is, then it is a photograph, an object, not a window to the world. The objectness is reinforced by every part of the bookmaking process: design, sequence and printing. I never realized how the actual printing of the picture, besides black and white or color or the choice of paper, could affect the meaning. The type of process can enhance different elements, such as the nostalgic feel of offset printing or the physicality of gravure printing.
Second Set of Readings
The readings about Japanese photography really fascinated me. I really liked how Japanese photography in the photobook was designed to their culture. As the author puts it, There are hints and clues that can only be understood by the people "in the know."As an outsider, my first look at Japanese photography was more of confusion but after reading the article, I appreciate this confusion. I appreciate that the Japanese photobook, in terms of sequence, non-narrative, placement of pictures and text, is how the Japanese view photography and that the photographers do not subject themselves to a particular norm. The very last spread showing the elderly man and the the bonfire characterizes my understanding of what Japanese photography is about. The two pictures are sort of not related. The cropping and placement of the picture of the elderly man looking at the fire with intensity in his face makes me wonder what the photographer wants me to know. Everything about the spread speaks intention and I wonder if my lack of understanding of the spread is due to my status as an outsider. This type of photography differs from western photography. Robert Frank's The Americans and Paul Senn's Bauer und Arbeiter have a more global perspective. They deal with situations that are universal to all and both photographer's translate this in their sequencing and choice of photographs.
Second Readings
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Second Set of Readings
I also found interesting the discussion of motion vs. stasis in Frank’s photos. While Frank doesn’t do too many effects to visually simulate motion (although there is some blurred imagery such as the blurred car behind the people on the bench), there is still a strong visual presence of motion or stasis by the subject matter and composition of his photos. I think this is focus on motion and statis is also tied to his motif of the car which he constantly repeats as a way to show both potential for extreme motion and, when still, powerful stasis in American life.
Finally, I started to think about whether Frank’s book was more a work of art or a work of photojournalism (or a combination of the two since they are not mutually exclusive). What I came to think was that the creation of photos themselves, while certainly having artistic intention behind them, seems to be much more along the documenting lines of photojournalist work. However, it is in the sequencing of these photos that Frank creates his art, using repetition and juxtaposition to express his ideas about American life.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
SLP Rough Draft
- the concept: Sin through the Ages
(Colby helped me already refine this concept to "The Seven Deadly Sins")
the refinement of this concept narrows down the sins I may concentrate on while still allowing enough options to get 30 pages out of
- Lust
imagery: concept of what was considered lust in the '50's (inappropriate displays of affection, Lucille Ball and Ricky in the same bed) compared to Victoria Secret models? strippers? night clubs? silk sheet bed?
-Greed
imagery: money, a child not sharing?
-Gluttony
imagery: food venders in markets with immense amounts of food, overweight people (by today's understanding)
-Wrath
Imagery: anger? crime (physical abuse)
-Sloth
Imagery: napping, too lazy to throw trash away (apple core photograph from costa rica with cut out through a hand "holding" it... "Leave your mark, not your trash")
-Pride
Imagery: looking down at everything (from a roof top), status accomplishments (trophy case), image with lots of people below a person standing taller (taller person is in color, and everyone else is black and white)
-Envy
Imagery: covet thy neighbor's... wife? (marriage scene being stopped- lyrics from Taylor Swift "Say Yes"?, five finger discount (want what you don't have or can't afford)
READING RESPONSE 1
The first group of readings was really interesting. Personally, the reading I enjoyed most was, “The Photobook: Between the Novel and Film.” I like how they differentiated photography and other fine arts, because only photography is a mass medium in this digital age. To me this reading seemed a lot more relevant than the other ones. I also appreciate how the reading illuminates the photobook, and how it is a permanent object. Photobooks are the history of photography.
For me, it becomes clear through out the reading that what matters most about the photobook is sequencing. The reading mentions that the sum of the photobook is greater than its parts and a book made up of really shitty photos can be good if someone sequences them really well. I really like how the author describes how the way a photo book is made can compliment the photos. In my mind that’s like talking about how the production of an album can either compliment or take away from the songs.
Some of the most interesting photobooks are those where the photographs aren’t taken by any recognizable ‘photographer’ instead these books are compilations. The ‘photographer’ in this case is a curator of amateur photographs. To me this really shows what the photobook is all about. Sequencing clearly becomes the most important part of these books.
SLP Rough Proposal
I am very enamored with collections, and intrigued by the phenomenon of collecting as a fairly driving force people's lives. Whether it's having complete sets of silverware, entire discographies, or all the "Polly Pockets" made in 1995, it seems that collections of "stuff" are prevalent in how a person defines his/herself. I, as an excellent consumer, collect tiny statues, but I have have always felt an even stronger fascination with other people's "things". I love going to yard-sales and auctions, and checking out my friends' attics and basements, only stumble on Grandma Lou's collection of tea pots that "we didn't know we still had", etc. I wonder at the compulsion for saving and preserving. The intricacy of storage and preservation has kind of a magical, mystifying power that make collections of trinkets and knick-knacks auspicious for me. And really, why do people collect CERAMIC THIMBLES? Why?
What is the significance of collecting and ordering, outside of a historical framework? I think we just like things, and like displaying them. Neat, ordered things are better things, maybe? Presentation transforms a pile of crap into a person's prized possessions. It makes sense and order.
I began to really analyze themes of presentation and preservation as a possible photobook topic, while discussing them in my Native American Art and Architecture class, because much, if not most of the indigenous people's history that has survived was selected based on the current formal values of the western scholars who were studying them. This fact has really emphasized for me how arbitrary much of aesthetic value is in relation to the actual context of an object, especially in art: whole styles of basketry and ceramics were developed because an anthropologist preferred the look of one basket or vase more than another, and that "one" became the model for a style and period, which contemporary artists now try to recreate. (Obviously, that is a totally naive and loaded statement, but for the purpose of me considering the visual pattern and relation of objects as way to create meaning, it was an important conclusion).
Another reference and inspiration is a photobook lent to me by a friend, which presents a collection of "boring postcards" of bureaucratic architecture in the mid-west (I believe it's called Boring Postcards USA). They are all presented in the same uninteresting way, but some how captivate me in their monotonous rhythm. Similarly, I am very, very drawn to the work of the German, industrial obejectivists Bernard and Hilla Becher.
My initial proposal for the photobook relates to creating some kind of typology of stuff and things, that is aesthetically appealing and simple, perhaps by photographing like objects or people's collections, emphasizing pattern and design. I feel it is interesting and appropriate to play on the idea of the photobook as a collection of photos, making it also into a collection of collections.
As an addendum however, After I definitively committed to this concept, I read this article: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/13/magazine/13FOB-consumed-t.html in the New York Times Magazine, and now am sort of stuck as how to modulate this idea to make it my own.
Monday, February 14, 2011
SLP
To set up this proposal for my SLP, I am going to give multiple references, so when I finally layout my idea it won't sound so ridiculous.
The quote above, by Andy Warhol which explains his urge to use that which is discarded or considered irrelevant by the rest of society.
The photography of Stephen Shore, particularly the exhibition for American Surfaces in which he showed prints from a cross country trip that were developed by drug stores.
The incredibly large abstract pictures by Andreas Gursky, specifically, the Ohne series.
Well, with this much build up, I might as well get on with it. I had the idea for this a while ago and sort of let it percolate in my head for a while, never really getting the courage to actually decide to do it. However, right before writing this, I was reading an excerpt from Andy Warhol's autobiography for my Image as Readymade class. The quote stopped me dead in my tracks, because it perfectly described what I was trying to do. For my SLP, I want to compile a book of the pictures my cellphone takes of the inside of my jeans pocket. While this might sound stupid as hell, I believe I have set up enough precedence to fully justify this project. The project can clearly be read as a reference to Warhol's re appropriation of the everyday, and his desire to use the "leftovers." I personally see it as more of a reference to Stephen Shore's American Surfaces exhibition though, which was so revolutionary at the time as to be analogous to someone showing pictures taken by a cell phone at a gallery today. Artists didn't use drug store prints, that stuff was for normal people, in the same way that the large majority of modern photography (not 'art' photography), is taken by a cellphone. Lastly, the pictures will reference Gursky's Ohne series in a purely aesthetic sense, echoing his abstractions.
Now I just gotta get my cellphone to accidentally take pictures of the inside of my jeans again.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
proposal
Proposal for SLP
The first idea that came to mind is making some kind of flip book that engages viewers to think about time. I want my viewers to be able to understand how speeding up or slowing down something can pull out different visual effects and connect thoughts and/or emotions that the different visual effects may have on you as the reader. The content of the book itself, how I will be compiling these images, and the effects I want to display are still a work in progress.
My other idea, I feel somewhat more excited about. I came across my old polaroid camera a couple of months ago and found an organization that produces new instant film materials for tradition Polaroid instant cameras.
http://www.the-impossible-project.com/
I really like the idea behind our Found and Bound project about looking at the book as an object, and I like thinking about how the film and border of Polaroid instant film contributes to the visual aesthetic of the image. I want to experiment with the snapshot effect that comes from a Polaroid instant camera and how time is truly captured in that instant, with the film being developed instantly. Like my first idea, I don't know what theme or content the images themselves will have. I would, however, like to make this a collaborative effort with The Impossible Project, but the details on that still need to be worked out.
SLP Proposal: Grace Gutowski
For my semester long project, I want to photograph tattoos. My idea is to form a portrait of someone through their tattoos. The photographs will be digital color images. The sequence would have the photographs of their tattoos and then a portrait of the person. It would include several people. The photographs would only be on the right pages with the title on the left pages. For the tattoo pictures, the title will be a short phrase describing the tattoo and for the portraits, the title will be the person’s name.
I don’t want it to look like a regular tattoo book, which is meant to show the artistry of tattoos. Instead, the book will be about the people who have the tattoos. The tattoos will be a way of getting to know them through the images they have chosen to put on their bodies.
SLP Photobook Proposal
I plan to produce at least 25 prints that accompany but do not necessarily illustrate the poems. So far I have printed six, and they are black and white images with rather high contrast. I think the consistency of this visual choice fits well with the content of the poems, but I will also be shooting some color film and making cyanotype images, which I will hopefully be able to integrate into the book. I am not sure yet how I will use sequencing to integrate these color images, but I have been working with sequencing the poems and have a better idea of how things are going to flow.
The content of my work involves material (non-spiritual) death and trying to naturalize what is usually depicted as grotesque decay. It involves an acceptance of the natural processes that act upon our bodies, and coming to terms with the loss of consciousness that occurs when we die. I will be trying to convey this in my poems by literally photographing skeletons (for example, a deer skeleton that was in my backyard in Howard County), using photographs from an abandoned building complex that is deteriorating, taking photographs of people in motion / in nature, and continuing to find more ways to convey impermanence, passing time, and the naturalness of death.
I have gotten a lot of inspiration from Sally Mann, Francesca Woodman, Ralph Eugene Meatyard, Diane Arbus, and surrealist photographers, and plan to branch from their work as I photograph. The list of poets is much longer, but a few that I have come to the most are Sylvia Plath, Nick Flynn, Frank Bidart, Robert Creeley, Charles Simic, Anne Sexton, and Brion Gysin. I won’t get into my whole SMP, but I am basically borrowing from the self-reflection of confessional and neo-confessional poets, while using postmodern American tools for writing against the status quo, such as metonymy, free association, and disjunctive work.
My black and white prints are wet darkroom prints that will be scanned into the computer, but the color negatives will be scanned and worked on digitally. I don’t know yet whether I am going to alternate photos and poems, but I think it might end up being more interesting if I organize them in clusters. I will probably have a better idea of this when I have more prints to work with and can lay them out visually with the poems. I think I am going to keep the left pages of each spread blank, and maybe break this pattern every once in a while throughout the book. One more thing I might try to do is collage my photographs together, in some cases, if this seems that it will yield interesting results.
SLP proposal
SLP First Draft: American Innocence
My SLP will consist of a sock monkey in a variety of locations around the county—I envision it in places like a dorm room, at a farm, in an office under the water and in a dirty alley. In this sense, the sock monkey will take the place of people in somewhat stereotypical photos to try and illustrate the inherent underlying innocence and commonality that all Americans share, no matter where their place in life. I would like the final book to be 17 inches wide by 11 inches tall with one picture per page. There will be text underneath each picture creating a narrative throughout the book that will give it the feel of a children’s story book.
SLP First draft Proposal
Thinking about a thesis for my SLP has proven to be difficult as well as exciting for me. After the first project Found and Bound, I considered basing my thesis on the same topic. While I was researching and reading papers for project 01, I came across an article called The Nigerian Indigene by a Nigerian journalist. The article spoke on issues of tribalism and what it meant to be a Nigerian indigene. I really loved the article because I could relate to the issue. I was born and bred in Nigeria to Igbo parents – one of the major tribes in Nigeria. The Igbo tribe is mainly found in the eastern part of Nigeria. My parents gave birth to me in a western state and I spent almost all my life in the western region of Nigeria which is primarily made up of the Yoruba tribe. While I was beginning the tenth grade, I moved to Abuja, the capital, which is considered part of the middle belt region of Nigeria and comprises of mainly the Hausa and Fulani tribes.
Growing up, I went to elementary, and secondary school (equivalent to middle and high school together) with mainly Yoruba kids. I heard a lot of Yoruba walking down the streets or in the market but came home to hear and be imbibed to the Igbo culture. I rarely visited my state of origin except during Christmas period – this period is usually considered the Igbo migration because most Igbos go “home” to celebrate Christmas with extended family. As a young child, I could not speak my language and did relate to the Igbo culture other than the fact my parents were Igbo and I knew some of my relations. I knew little of the Igbo culture, I rarely experienced any of the Igbo festivals and when I saw my grandmother, could not communicate or relate with her because I knew little about her and the environment she grew up in. However, I knew a lot about the Yoruba culture, though I could not speak their language, I had what Nigerians consider as the “Yoruba tongue” – my accent reflected that I had lived in that region. Nevertheless, I would not be considered Yoruba or be accepted as one. Since, I can’t speak my mother tongue, and know little about my tribe’s history, I am also not entirely Igbo.
This question of identity was what the author of the article The Nigerian Indigene discussed extensively but from a different perspective. He was Yoruba but had spent majority of his life living amongst the Efik tribe – one of the many minor tribes in Nigeria. The author spoke about whether as a Yoruba man if he had any voting rights in the region where he lived though he could speak the language fluently and would even consider marrying a girl from the tribe. Would he be accepted as an Efik man though his name is of Yoruba origin? So the author wrote that as Nigerians, we should not be bounded by our tribes, instead we should strive to be a Nigerian indigene. That is, a Yoruba man can claim to be from the Hausa tribe and an Igbo woman can marry from the Edo tribe without any retribution or disregard.
Now as an adult, I still need to prove my identity as an Igbo lady. Before reading this article, I had made a decision to first acknowledge myself as a Nigerian before stating my tribe as much as I can. So I wanted to base my photobook on what a Nigerian indigene should be using the article as a reference and a guide. However, because the topic is very specific, I think it would be very hard to describe a Nigerian indigene in pictures – the pictures would have to be found images and I would be confined to the photographer’s ideas which may not be exactly mine. Writing about this idea makes me feel that it can be accomplished but I still feel constrained by what I am limited to and also if my topic would be able to be interpreted by non-Nigerians. I have considered adding family photos that I have including old pictures but I still find it hard going about this project.
As a backup plan, I have thought about having another thesis based on how my friends, St. Mary’s and myself have changed over the time that I have been here. I really liked the idea of showing how time changed by taking an existing old image and going back to take the same picture at a different timer period. I have a lot of pictures all the way from orientation week as a freshman till now. There are some old pictures of St. Mary’s on the walls of the Schaefer hallway and I thought about going back to the same places and taking pictures of the exact position. I could also go to the archive and look for old pictures and take the picture of what the place looks like now. So My photobook would be about the before and after and how my friends, St. Mary’s and myself have changed (in looks, thinking dress sense) over the years be it 30 years or 4 years.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
SLP proposal—Ruth F.
180 Days
Since the beginning of the semester, I’ve been thinking about this project in terms of both theme and format.
Thematically, I was fairly certain from the get-go that I wanted to focus on travel, or—if not that, exactly—then on place over the course of time, which could be understood as a different form of travel. I worried a bit that the idea was clichéd; on the other hand, there’s a reason (or two) why the photobook has been linked to travel almost since its inception. There’s nothing inherently disgraceful in participating in a long artistic tradition, and it makes a certain amount of sense to work with an idea that’s long occupied my attention both as an amateur photographer and also as a scholar. I’ve taught classes on the American Road and on travel writing; I’ve written papers on travel literature; I have thousands upon thousands of travel photos I’ve taken over the years.
In terms of format, I spent several weeks intrigued by the idea of making a scroll, rather than a modern bound book. At the Getty, in early January, I was entranced by a mediæval scroll that laid out the parallel histories of England and France; as a form, a scroll is ideal for conveying the idea of continuity or progression—and this progression could be chronological, geographical, or both. A road trip of some kind, laid out in one continuous strip (as Kerouac did, in typing the manuscript of On the Road), would be logical. Or, to combine multiple interests of mine, I could make a scroll of one line of the London Underground, with both historical and contemporary photographs of each station.…but this was all starting to sound very complicated, and also very dependent on my either already having the photos I needed on hand, or on my using a lot of found and borrowed images, which I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Then last week, my dog woke me up at 3:00 in the morning, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. In the fog of insomnia, it occurred to me: I travel every day. Quite a lot. If asked, I would say my commute is pretty boring, visually—but on the other hand, it’s visually distinctive enough that if I’ve been zoning out, I can almost always instantly tell where I am on my route when I come to, even at night. And what would I discover if I really started to pay attention to what I saw along the way, thinking about it like a photographer? And then shaped my impressions into a book? The project had a lot of appeal in terms of how it might shake up my photographic style, as well as how it might help me resee what I spend so much of my time doing.
I’ve abandoned the scroll idea—I don’t think it’ll work well with this project. I’m back to a conventional bound book, although the shape it takes will depend in large part on the pictures I end up selecting for the project. I’ve had a few different sequencing ideas, even pre-image:
- · I could simply set my tripmeter, stop every 5 miles, and take a picture of whatever I find; these would, obviously, be printed in geographical order;
- · I could choose subjects at will, but still print them in order. If were to do this, though, I’d have to decide: do I make my book a one-way trip? Do I create a two-stories-in-one format, with the outbound trip starting from one side of the book, and the return from the other (the reader would then flip the book over to read the second “story”)? Or do I do a round trip, but interweaving the two directions, so that the outbound trip appeared on odd-numbered pages (the most visible ones if one were to read the book western-style), and the return trip on even-numbered ones (the prominent pages if one were to read the book from the “back,” like a Hebrew book)?
- · I could abandon geography altogether—a move than in some sense violates the concept of the trip, yet in another captures the kind of fragmented vision resulting from the incessant repetition of the commute. After all, at this point, no matter where I am, I’ve seen it all before—and I’ll see it all again. Geography and time don’t match up, in this particular interpretation.
I already have about 40–50 possible exposures for the project—pictures I’ve taken in the past, and ones I’ve taken since coming up with the idea. I’ve therefore got landscape shots from fall and winter, and will be able to get spring. I have pictures taken through my windscreen while driving, pictures taken from the side of the road, and pictures of the inside of my car. I have morning shots and evening ones; dry weather, and rain. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to get snow. There’s a lot of potential in this, I think.
By the end of this semester, I will have spent approximately 180 days driving this route.