Photo Of The Week, By Other People #1
Photograph by Paul Bishop. Reproduced here for editorial Purposes
The human psyche is a very strange thing when it comes to likes, dislikes, tastes for and objections against. Our preferences for certain things are a mixture of traits we are born with, together with experiences we have had, and as such they are generally outside of our conscious control giving us little idea why exactly it is we prefer this thing over that thing. If we stop to think about it logically (which we really don’t very often) we can rarely link any objective and logical reason why we like something, it just is that way. The interesting point in this is that we then believe it to be illogical if someone else does not share our taste for something, and the illogical does not sit comfortably in the human world of categorisation; it doesn’t fit neatly so there must be something wrong. This usually leads us to challenge the illogic.
To take an example, I really do not like apricots and although the simple statement, “No thank you, I don’t really like apricots.” should be enough to convey to someone offering apricots that I don’t enjoy eating them and I don’t want to eat any now, it rarely seems to finalise the conversation. The person offering will, on frequent occasions, find this illogical; they like apricots for no good reason so how can it be that another person does not like apricots for no good reason? This will result in a human knee-jerk reaction of them challenging you, “They’re lovely, just try a piece, you might really like it.” The issue here is not so much that you don’t like apricots, but that it seems illogical to not like apricots. Luckily this does not develop into a brawl whereby the challenger attempts to stuff apricots down your throat because the challenger then falls back on prior experience to provide some logic. The experience is that, although it is not in itself logical, some people just don’t like the same things as you and this knowledge provides a logical enough explanation to back down. To illustrate this point, have a think about younger children; who are yet to learn this knowledge. Children can treat with absolute horror another child (or adult for that matter) who does not share an instinctive or sub-consciously learned taste with them. Their incredulous reaction to this can last for long periods of time, and they will usually find it necessary to communicate this to others, and to treat the victim as if from another planet.
To put some context in all of that, I am going to write a little about a minor debate I had with a friend of mine a few days ago. The origin of the debate was a Google group thread on the photography of Rineke Dijkstra. The thread itself was not all that interesting (surprise), and contained the usual assortment of those that hated Dijkstra’s work and those that thought it was inspired, none of them bothered to really discuss why they had such opinions; and a number quoted some other peoples descriptions of the work. The fact that there were opposing views comes as no surprise because, as I discussed at the start of this essay, each person has their own opinions. What was quite thought provoking, or more - added weight to an existing notion I had, was that my friend thought that Dijkstra’s work was “bland”. The thing here is that I think it is important to separate the photograph from the photographed, is it the photograph that is bland or the subject of the photograph? Maybe I should set a reference of what bland means to me, and that is something which is lacking flavour, character or interest. In the case of Dijkstra, I think it would be hard to argue that her photographs are bland as they certainly have flavour; large sections of her work show a style which is instantly recognisable; and of course the style is a characteristic of her work. The fact that her photographs generate discussion, such as that particular thread, proves that her work generates interest. So what about the subjects? Probably her best known images are photographs of people taken on beaches, with strong front fill-lighting. Again, I don’t think any person is completely lacking character, and if anything these photos seem to show more insight to the subject’s character than a cheesy smiling portrait, which ultimately make everyone look the same. I don’t think anyone is fooled into believing that people spend their whole lives smiling, therefore cheesy smiling portraits are not particularly portraying an accurate image.
I really don’t want to give the idea that I am finding fault with stating that the images are bland – as I fully understand what my friend was trying to say to me. For what it is worth, Dijkstra’s photographs don’t do a great deal for me either, but describing them as bland doesn’t seem to fit well – and that interests me. It interests me on the level of thinking how it is best to describe photographs. One criticism I do have of many people viewing photographs is that they do not spend long enough looking at them before making their final judgement. As with so much of contemporary life we are looking for instant gratification, and are pretty impatient if it is not immediately forthcoming. I described in an earlier essay how I have become bored with typical “pretty” photographs. I think it is that immediate prettiness that so many people look for in photographs, and if it is not there they quickly move on. This further boils down to what purpose photographs serve to different people. If prettiness is what is required, what purpose does that serve? Is it a form of escapism, to view images of places or situations you would rather be in (this is the basis of nearly all advertising photographs), and hence the photographs that are too close to general actuality don’t server that purpose and are rejected? This might be the case but for whatever reason I find it unfortunate that a very large percentage of great photography is not given the time needed as it does not deal with the pretty.
There is another criticism I have of threads such as these, and this is that they are quite often based from images displayed through the internet. In the case of this Dijkstra thread this is particularly acute, as most of the images I found from Dijkstra on the net are very small, in fact only really categorised as large thumbnails. Now I am not saying that to appreciate every photograph you need to see large prints, but they do need to be of a size where you can get absorbed into the image, and really start to feel it. The necessary size of the print varies from image to image, some only work well if printed large, some work better a smaller size, but I would say there isn’t any photograph taken that doesn’t need to be viewed at least 12x8”. How one can draw conclusions on portraits where the expression on the face is not even visible is beyond me.
So what am I comfortable with, as a means of describing images such as Dijkstra’s? Well as I have already said, they are not pretty. I think that is fair. A word commonly used in photography criticism is “banal”, which although quite similar to “bland” in daily usage has some important differences when it comes to discussing the subject of photographs. By “banal” I mean something which is dull and unoriginal. Note that I am talking in this case of the photograph’s subject and not the photograph in its own right. In fact most of the photographs I am drawn to are of banal subjects. At the risk of edging into a discussion over “What is Art?”, which is a question without an answer, as it is different things to different people, as different times of the day; I think it is accurate to say that art, and particularly realism of which photography is a part (generally), can be made from bringing a focus or meaning to something which it does not, or is not seen to, have in every day life. These types of subjects are quite often banal and the more banal they are the more impact they have when put in a new perspective by juxtaposition or other creative intent. There is of course room in there to have banal photographs of banal subjects, and to draw a closure on my feelings over Dijkstra’s work, for me they are banal photographs of banal subjects. I find them unoriginal photographs as they seem to close to the work of Diane Arbus, but do not generate the same feelings or interest. They also, for my tastes, do not display the technical ability of Arbus.
All of which brings me to the photograph show at the top of the page. From an aesthetic and emotional perspective I enjoy this photograph for the tonal range, and the graphic nature. Although the photograph contains a lot of dirt and grime, the execution of the image is very clean. This is something that appeals to me and works hand in hand with the graphic lines; noting the majority of my own photographs are very graphic in nature. The lighting is superb, with the large area of deep shadow reduced to black and the touch of light on the wall behind giving the photograph depth and separating the vacuum cleaner from the rest of the image. You will notice that was the first time I mentioned the obvious subject, the vacuum cleaner. It is a banal subject, but by the way it has been photographed here it has been taken out of its usual context. There is also a touch of irony going on, a machine which sole purpose is to clean is found here in anything but a clean environment and itself covered in dirt. The cleaner also conjures up memories of a time when vacuum cleaners looked this way. A fairly obvious statement, but then think how differently they look now.
On a technical level I also appreciate this photograph. The exposure is absolute perfection, this is exactly the sort of light you would get in such a location, and immediately makes me sense the damp smell of the place. The depth of field has been considered to ensure that the background wall that adds so much to the image is sharp as well as the vacuum cleaner. As with many photographs of this type, the detail is all important, the human brain likes to wander around details. The sharpness and detail in the vacuum cleaner and the debris covering it give us the feeling that this cleaner has served well. The overall composition balances well, there is around half the frame in shadow and half in light, and the consideration to the composition is what has resulted in the graphic lines I spoke of before; the line in the floor leading in to the shadow, the handle of the vacuum cleaner picking up from there and leading us to the background.
All in all I think it is a nice, pleasing and well executed photograph. Sure it is a banal subject but, in my opinion, it is far from being a banal photograph – and it could never be bland. Naturally others will see it differently, some will find it bland or banal or both; that’s all good and to be expected. Luckily, through the experience that I wrote about earlier in this essay, I understand that it will not be to everyone’s tastes but I wont challenge that and it doesn’t alter my interest in it. This mentality also carries through to my own photography; the fact is you can’t please all the people all the time, and in trying to do so will most likely produce banal photographs. The reality is that there is really only one person you can be assured by pleasing with your images and that is yourself. By targeting that audience you are assured to please at least someone, and that makes the photograph taking exercise all the more enjoyable. It is quite likely that if an image pleases you, it will also appeal to others sharing that taste. My only request is that viewers take a few moments to really look at this, and any other photograph, rather than dismissing it with a fleeting glance.
Sadly due to my limitations on this blog I am contributing yet another undersized reproduction of the print, but in this case I think the size is just large enough to make the image work. A slightly larger version can be seen by clicking on the image.
Early on in this essay I suggested that tastes also vary with time, I cannot say whether I would have always liked this photograph, or that I always will. I think it is likely, but time changes many things. Who knows, I may one day develop a taste for apricots.
To take an example, I really do not like apricots and although the simple statement, “No thank you, I don’t really like apricots.” should be enough to convey to someone offering apricots that I don’t enjoy eating them and I don’t want to eat any now, it rarely seems to finalise the conversation. The person offering will, on frequent occasions, find this illogical; they like apricots for no good reason so how can it be that another person does not like apricots for no good reason? This will result in a human knee-jerk reaction of them challenging you, “They’re lovely, just try a piece, you might really like it.” The issue here is not so much that you don’t like apricots, but that it seems illogical to not like apricots. Luckily this does not develop into a brawl whereby the challenger attempts to stuff apricots down your throat because the challenger then falls back on prior experience to provide some logic. The experience is that, although it is not in itself logical, some people just don’t like the same things as you and this knowledge provides a logical enough explanation to back down. To illustrate this point, have a think about younger children; who are yet to learn this knowledge. Children can treat with absolute horror another child (or adult for that matter) who does not share an instinctive or sub-consciously learned taste with them. Their incredulous reaction to this can last for long periods of time, and they will usually find it necessary to communicate this to others, and to treat the victim as if from another planet.
To put some context in all of that, I am going to write a little about a minor debate I had with a friend of mine a few days ago. The origin of the debate was a Google group thread on the photography of Rineke Dijkstra. The thread itself was not all that interesting (surprise), and contained the usual assortment of those that hated Dijkstra’s work and those that thought it was inspired, none of them bothered to really discuss why they had such opinions; and a number quoted some other peoples descriptions of the work. The fact that there were opposing views comes as no surprise because, as I discussed at the start of this essay, each person has their own opinions. What was quite thought provoking, or more - added weight to an existing notion I had, was that my friend thought that Dijkstra’s work was “bland”. The thing here is that I think it is important to separate the photograph from the photographed, is it the photograph that is bland or the subject of the photograph? Maybe I should set a reference of what bland means to me, and that is something which is lacking flavour, character or interest. In the case of Dijkstra, I think it would be hard to argue that her photographs are bland as they certainly have flavour; large sections of her work show a style which is instantly recognisable; and of course the style is a characteristic of her work. The fact that her photographs generate discussion, such as that particular thread, proves that her work generates interest. So what about the subjects? Probably her best known images are photographs of people taken on beaches, with strong front fill-lighting. Again, I don’t think any person is completely lacking character, and if anything these photos seem to show more insight to the subject’s character than a cheesy smiling portrait, which ultimately make everyone look the same. I don’t think anyone is fooled into believing that people spend their whole lives smiling, therefore cheesy smiling portraits are not particularly portraying an accurate image.
I really don’t want to give the idea that I am finding fault with stating that the images are bland – as I fully understand what my friend was trying to say to me. For what it is worth, Dijkstra’s photographs don’t do a great deal for me either, but describing them as bland doesn’t seem to fit well – and that interests me. It interests me on the level of thinking how it is best to describe photographs. One criticism I do have of many people viewing photographs is that they do not spend long enough looking at them before making their final judgement. As with so much of contemporary life we are looking for instant gratification, and are pretty impatient if it is not immediately forthcoming. I described in an earlier essay how I have become bored with typical “pretty” photographs. I think it is that immediate prettiness that so many people look for in photographs, and if it is not there they quickly move on. This further boils down to what purpose photographs serve to different people. If prettiness is what is required, what purpose does that serve? Is it a form of escapism, to view images of places or situations you would rather be in (this is the basis of nearly all advertising photographs), and hence the photographs that are too close to general actuality don’t server that purpose and are rejected? This might be the case but for whatever reason I find it unfortunate that a very large percentage of great photography is not given the time needed as it does not deal with the pretty.
There is another criticism I have of threads such as these, and this is that they are quite often based from images displayed through the internet. In the case of this Dijkstra thread this is particularly acute, as most of the images I found from Dijkstra on the net are very small, in fact only really categorised as large thumbnails. Now I am not saying that to appreciate every photograph you need to see large prints, but they do need to be of a size where you can get absorbed into the image, and really start to feel it. The necessary size of the print varies from image to image, some only work well if printed large, some work better a smaller size, but I would say there isn’t any photograph taken that doesn’t need to be viewed at least 12x8”. How one can draw conclusions on portraits where the expression on the face is not even visible is beyond me.
So what am I comfortable with, as a means of describing images such as Dijkstra’s? Well as I have already said, they are not pretty. I think that is fair. A word commonly used in photography criticism is “banal”, which although quite similar to “bland” in daily usage has some important differences when it comes to discussing the subject of photographs. By “banal” I mean something which is dull and unoriginal. Note that I am talking in this case of the photograph’s subject and not the photograph in its own right. In fact most of the photographs I am drawn to are of banal subjects. At the risk of edging into a discussion over “What is Art?”, which is a question without an answer, as it is different things to different people, as different times of the day; I think it is accurate to say that art, and particularly realism of which photography is a part (generally), can be made from bringing a focus or meaning to something which it does not, or is not seen to, have in every day life. These types of subjects are quite often banal and the more banal they are the more impact they have when put in a new perspective by juxtaposition or other creative intent. There is of course room in there to have banal photographs of banal subjects, and to draw a closure on my feelings over Dijkstra’s work, for me they are banal photographs of banal subjects. I find them unoriginal photographs as they seem to close to the work of Diane Arbus, but do not generate the same feelings or interest. They also, for my tastes, do not display the technical ability of Arbus.
All of which brings me to the photograph show at the top of the page. From an aesthetic and emotional perspective I enjoy this photograph for the tonal range, and the graphic nature. Although the photograph contains a lot of dirt and grime, the execution of the image is very clean. This is something that appeals to me and works hand in hand with the graphic lines; noting the majority of my own photographs are very graphic in nature. The lighting is superb, with the large area of deep shadow reduced to black and the touch of light on the wall behind giving the photograph depth and separating the vacuum cleaner from the rest of the image. You will notice that was the first time I mentioned the obvious subject, the vacuum cleaner. It is a banal subject, but by the way it has been photographed here it has been taken out of its usual context. There is also a touch of irony going on, a machine which sole purpose is to clean is found here in anything but a clean environment and itself covered in dirt. The cleaner also conjures up memories of a time when vacuum cleaners looked this way. A fairly obvious statement, but then think how differently they look now.
On a technical level I also appreciate this photograph. The exposure is absolute perfection, this is exactly the sort of light you would get in such a location, and immediately makes me sense the damp smell of the place. The depth of field has been considered to ensure that the background wall that adds so much to the image is sharp as well as the vacuum cleaner. As with many photographs of this type, the detail is all important, the human brain likes to wander around details. The sharpness and detail in the vacuum cleaner and the debris covering it give us the feeling that this cleaner has served well. The overall composition balances well, there is around half the frame in shadow and half in light, and the consideration to the composition is what has resulted in the graphic lines I spoke of before; the line in the floor leading in to the shadow, the handle of the vacuum cleaner picking up from there and leading us to the background.
All in all I think it is a nice, pleasing and well executed photograph. Sure it is a banal subject but, in my opinion, it is far from being a banal photograph – and it could never be bland. Naturally others will see it differently, some will find it bland or banal or both; that’s all good and to be expected. Luckily, through the experience that I wrote about earlier in this essay, I understand that it will not be to everyone’s tastes but I wont challenge that and it doesn’t alter my interest in it. This mentality also carries through to my own photography; the fact is you can’t please all the people all the time, and in trying to do so will most likely produce banal photographs. The reality is that there is really only one person you can be assured by pleasing with your images and that is yourself. By targeting that audience you are assured to please at least someone, and that makes the photograph taking exercise all the more enjoyable. It is quite likely that if an image pleases you, it will also appeal to others sharing that taste. My only request is that viewers take a few moments to really look at this, and any other photograph, rather than dismissing it with a fleeting glance.
Sadly due to my limitations on this blog I am contributing yet another undersized reproduction of the print, but in this case I think the size is just large enough to make the image work. A slightly larger version can be seen by clicking on the image.
Early on in this essay I suggested that tastes also vary with time, I cannot say whether I would have always liked this photograph, or that I always will. I think it is likely, but time changes many things. Who knows, I may one day develop a taste for apricots.
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