Postcards from the Creative Journey

Workshops: Then and Now

Open Door, Cary Elementary School

When I started photography decades ago, the mark of a serious photographer was attendance at photographic workshops because photographic instruction was done face to face. Workshops were usually week-long affairs with time spent listening to lectures, critiquing photographs and lots of time in the evenings to socialize and bond with fellow participants (accompanied by adult beverages) to discuss making photographs. Attendees shared a love of photography in all aspects. Friendships were made and information was freely exchanged. “Field Sessions” gave participants the time to see how others photographed and became learning by doing instruction.

Have you been to a workshop lately? They are now half day affairs where hundreds of photographers are jammed into a hotel ballroom elbow to elbow watching a big screen powerpoint presentation on how to manipulate software to achieve their creative potential. Point and Click. Point and Click some more and great art is created on the screen. At coffee breaks everyone is heads down with their iPad or smart phone answering email, returning that important call, tweeting or updating their facebook page. Photographs are not shared but treated like trade secrets. The quest is not to make better photographs, but to “get” – a show, gallery representation or a book deal. In short the quest is to “monetize your output” and be a successful career Fine Art Photographer. You are no longer attending an event with your fellow photographers, but your competitors.

Workshops have changed. I’m not sure they have changed for the better.

He’s a Real Technician

Cary Elementary School, demolition phase

Used to be that was quite a compliment to a photographer. The reason being was that in the olden days of silver gelatin photography, being a technician was a huge part of the photographic process. One had to understand the nuances of film exposure, be adept at formulating photographic chemistry for film (and paper) and be able to manipulate all the chemical and mechanical factors required to produce a wonderful black and white print. Doing it once was tough enough. Doing multiple copies required consummate skill acquired through constant repetition of what some referred to as darkroom drudgery. There was an entire class of photographic heroes capable of inspiring awe solely through their technical mastery of black and white print processing. The content of their photographs was pedestrian, but how they exposed, developed and printed was rewarded because it was (and still is) a difficult process to make a beautiful silver gelatin print.

Being a recognized technician does have its shortcomings these days. Used to be that a technical expert was revered because of the time it took to learn the craft and establish bona fides as an expert. This was absolutely acceptable with an established unchanging technology. Once photography changed from a mechanical/chemical to an electronic/software technology the entire concept of a technical expert changed. The life time of a technical expert dropped from years to months. I have yet to make up my mind whether this rapid acceleration in technology is actually good or not. Having new stuff to use is actually very nice, but I am not sure if we have enough time to figure out how to use it in anything other than in a superficial manner before the next “latest and greatest” improvement happens along.

It’s Not a Real Photograph

The Old Library, Cary Elementary School

Most images these days are not real. They are virtual. You rarely hold photographs in your hands any more. I’d wager that most of the photographs you see are virtual. The back of a cellphone, a computer, or pixels projected on a screen or some other computer generated image. They are not artifacts, they are virtual images. It’s getting to the point where you almost have to go to a museum to see a real photograph because the photograph as artifact is becoming increasingly rare. I exaggerate, but not by much I think. There will be a time when the only place you can see a photograph will be a museum.

With this replacement of the physical with the virtual I think something odd will happen. Instead of becoming more valuable with age and scarcity, photographs will have less value because current and future generations do not appreciate the physical artifact because they have been raised in a virtual world. It would be similar to wax cylinder music recordings; or for that matter a 78 rpm record. Maybe some collectors will have them, but for the most part, actual photographs will be a thing of the past because future generations are being raised with photographs as virtual images.

Empty Minded, Not Empty Headed

Inside the Cottage, Academy Street

After reflecting upon my wonderful photographic experience mentioned in last week’s blog, I began trying to remember what made that morning’s photo session so memorable. If it was such a good experience, wouldn’t it make sense to try to put myself in similar situations in the future? If I could identify what was conducive to creativity at that time, it might also work in the future. As hard as I could try, I had trouble remembering much of anything about what I was doing and what was going on during those few hours. Some might tease me about my advanced years and loss of memory. I would reply (in the same spirit) I had elevated myself to another level of consciousness for that same period. Yes, I was “in the zone.”

I was not in one of St. Ansel’s ten zones of tone, but the eleventh (and secret) zone. This is the zone of “unconscious competence”. You and the camera operate as one entity. You are not aware of the creative process taking place because you are the creative process. The borders between you, the camera and your surrounding are erased and all objects merge into a single artistic event. (I was going to say artistic happening, but my outer adult overruled my inner hippie flower child. Again, you must be very old to appreciate the generational humor.)

My words are a poor representation of the experience.  If you have not been in this wonderful creative state, I can’t really explain it to you. If you have been there, an explanation is not necessary.

 

There’s a new project on my web site. "Transformations: The Cary Arts Center." Almost five years ago I began photographing the transformation of a local school into an Arts Center. During the project, I made a conscious decision to make many photographs from the same spot throughout the project. The goal was to show the architectural transformation from (many) particular points of view. While the presentation was a foregone conclusion, the method for making it happen was unknown.

With a lot of help from friends (thanks Brooks) and some clever programming from the folks at Dynamic Drive the project is completely realized. You can see how the Cary Elementary School became the Cary Arts Center.