Why do I take pictures? Why do I take this picture?
“To take a photograph is to participate in another person's mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out this moment and freezing it, all photographs testify to time's relentless melt." Susan Sontag (on photography)
ART never comes from one moment, one inspiration, or one motivated act. Art comes from a collection of experiences of ideas, influences, and many attempts. The final result therefore could be considered largely serendipitous, an accident the result of coincidence. That may not be entirely correct, but art as a collection of purposeful coincidence it is a nice idea, one I have liked since I was a kid. Such wistfulness allows art to be mystical, romantic and fateful; an alchemistic act of creation. One of my favorite of such occurrences is the discovery of stimulating pieces of art while idly looking through other peoples bookshelves. Such collected works can haunt my subconscious for years. One of these coincidences of art stemmed from a night of bourbon and books 3 years go in London. Back then I went through a variety of books but found myself lingering over one in particular. What perked my attention of The Model Wife (Bulfinch Press, 1999) weren’t so much the images alone (the pictures were all works by famous artists, of their wives) but the combination of the pictures with well written and clear ideas and biographical notes chronicling the artist’s motivation for their subject.
The works were fascinating because they as Ollman said were done as collaborations that “involve [ed] permission, responsibility, idealizing and a great deal of care.” This interacting in people’s lives with such enthusiasm is an enduring aspect of the photos. For me, it is the collaborative participation and exploration of the artists’ relationship to the subject that I try to emulate. Even if the model is a stranger, there is still a relationship, whether it be familiarity or awkwardness. The Model Wife’s series of works also announces the artists’ artistic concerns. Like wise regardless of the subject my own concerns with the medium of photography and the direction of the themes are expressed in my own photography of pregnancy. At this very moment the path is largely unexpected, with every new process and every new photo a new direction, with new meaning opening up. But it is this unexpectedness that I pursue in order to depict pregnancy, though I acknowledge that depiction does not equal revelation. So while I am pursuing this idea like Model Wifes capturing the variability of 20th century relationships, I too hope to capture some breadth of the experience of pregnancy.
"The only interesting answers are those that destroy the questions." Susan Sontag
“To take a photograph is to participate in another person's mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out this moment and freezing it, all photographs testify to time's relentless melt." Susan Sontag (on photography)
ART never comes from one moment, one inspiration, or one motivated act. Art comes from a collection of experiences of ideas, influences, and many attempts. The final result therefore could be considered largely serendipitous, an accident the result of coincidence. That may not be entirely correct, but art as a collection of purposeful coincidence it is a nice idea, one I have liked since I was a kid. Such wistfulness allows art to be mystical, romantic and fateful; an alchemistic act of creation. One of my favorite of such occurrences is the discovery of stimulating pieces of art while idly looking through other peoples bookshelves. Such collected works can haunt my subconscious for years. One of these coincidences of art stemmed from a night of bourbon and books 3 years go in London. Back then I went through a variety of books but found myself lingering over one in particular. What perked my attention of The Model Wife (Bulfinch Press, 1999) weren’t so much the images alone (the pictures were all works by famous artists, of their wives) but the combination of the pictures with well written and clear ideas and biographical notes chronicling the artist’s motivation for their subject.
The works were fascinating because they as Ollman said were done as collaborations that “involve [ed] permission, responsibility, idealizing and a great deal of care.” This interacting in people’s lives with such enthusiasm is an enduring aspect of the photos. For me, it is the collaborative participation and exploration of the artists’ relationship to the subject that I try to emulate. Even if the model is a stranger, there is still a relationship, whether it be familiarity or awkwardness. The Model Wife’s series of works also announces the artists’ artistic concerns. Like wise regardless of the subject my own concerns with the medium of photography and the direction of the themes are expressed in my own photography of pregnancy. At this very moment the path is largely unexpected, with every new process and every new photo a new direction, with new meaning opening up. But it is this unexpectedness that I pursue in order to depict pregnancy, though I acknowledge that depiction does not equal revelation. So while I am pursuing this idea like Model Wifes capturing the variability of 20th century relationships, I too hope to capture some breadth of the experience of pregnancy.
"The only interesting answers are those that destroy the questions." Susan Sontag
posted by Butcher at 9:31 AM
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