An artists journey

Category: Psychology

  • Abstract

    Abstract

    Photography is traditionally thought of as giving a very realistic representation of a subject. It is usually concrete as opposed to abstract. But this is only the norm. There is nothing to say that photography cannot be as abstract as the imagination can conjure.

    Very short history of photography

    Photography is agreed to have become practical with the invention of the daguerreotype process in around 1839. Photographers went crazy recording the world around them. There was a joy in being able to capture a realistic representation of the world quickly, without spending days or more drawing or painting a copy. Landscapes and people were the preferred subjects.

    As processes and equipment improved it has come to the point where almost all of us carry around a camera all the time. And people still use them mostly for snapping images of people or landscapes. We take for granted the ability to capture almost exact representations of whatever we point them at.

    But some would say this is the weakness of photography. It blindly records the world in front of the camera. No evaluation; no filtering; no interpretation. Unfortunately, it is a valid critique. Much photography is just capturing pretty pictures. It is literal. Now I like beauty and uplifting things, but I have to agree that most of it lacks vision and a spark of greatness.

    What is abstract?

    Abstract images have been around a long time, but there is no real agreed definition of what it is. The one I like is “If you look at a photo and there’s a voice inside you that says ‘What is it?’….Well, there you go. It’s an abstract photograph.”

    The first recorded mention of abstract photography was by Alvin Langdon Coburn in 1916. He proposed an exhibition be organized with the title “Abstract Photography”, for which the entry form stated that “no work will be admitted in which the interest of the subject matter is greater than the appreciation of the extraordinary.”

    I had to wrestle with this definition for a while, but I have come to believe it is brilliant. The interest in the subject is secondary to the appreciation of the extraordinary. So abstract photography is not about the subject as much as a unique view of it.

    Break the rules

    Our cameras and lenses are truly amazing these days. Most of us spend years learning how to create highly detailed, tack sharp, properly exposed images with sharp focus from front to back.

    Then some of us try abstract, and we find that now we violate all the training we spent such a long and difficult time learning. We deliberately create images that may be blurry, that may have high levels of camera shake, that may not be level, that may not stop motion, that may be composed “strangely” – all the things that would have gotten them thrown out of our camera club competition back when.

    It reminds me of a musical group homed in my area, Acoustic Eidolon, a guitar and cello duo. The cello player sometimes remarks that she is now going to be making sounds on her instrument that she spent years of formal training learning how to avoid. That is kind of what abstract photography is to me.

    How

    How do we usually do abstraction? There are far too many approaches to abstraction to list them all. One technique is to intentionally obfuscate the subject. This could be by panning to blur the frame, slow shutter speed to lengthen motion, or “hiding” the subject, such as behind a foreground screen

    Another productive source of abstraction is focus and depth of field. We are used to seeing photographs done a certain way. Try shooting a group of people up close with a very large aperture, say f/1.4. Only a small part of the group will be sharp. Or shoot something where the viewer expects one thing to be the subject., but you have focused on something completely different.

    One thing I like to do is to isolate detail. Go in very tight on one small part of a subject and challenge the viewer to figure out what the whole is. This works in landscapes, too.

    Another approach is to give the viewer an unexpected scale or position. Macro shots are a scale example. Blowing an unlikely object, like a fly’s eye, up to fill the frame is a type of abstraction. Or a drone view from high above can be disorienting.

    Mostly, though, when we thing of abstract images we think of what I call conceptual abstracts. These may be just patterns, compositions of color or forms that have no objective subject in the normal sense. I must admit, these can be a joy to do and a great creative break from more “typical” photography. Now that our computer tools are so good there are few limits to our imagination. The image at the top of this post is kind of most of this. Actually, it is quite concrete, but processed to be completely abstract.

    Why abstract photography?

    Why do we do abstract photography and why is it an enduring genre? I’m afraid that’s above my pay grade. I’ll have to leave the real answer to the philosophers and critics.

    For me, I know that sometimes I feel the need to do something different. To express myself in a different dimension from my normal work. Sometimes an idea just doesn’t fit as anything except an abstract. Or sometime a subject just calls to be made into something other than what it seems to be in “real life”.

    In a previous life I was a software architect. In that role abstraction was one of the key design patterns to learn. It was very important to be able to look at complex designs or requirements and be able to “abstract” out the essential attributes of their nature. I think I am still doing that as an artist. Continually challenging myself to find the real essence of a thing. When I get an idea, there are almost no limits to where it can go.

    I guess that is what abstraction is to me. You will have to find your own answer. Have you? what do you think?

  • How Fragile is my Style?

    How Fragile is my Style?

    Some photographers say you should look at and study as many examples of other artists work as you can. Others say you should not view other’s work. Underlying it is an assumption of how much our own style might be affected by other artist’s work. Is my style fragile and easily influenced or is it inherently robust?

    I have been reading the book More Than a Rock by Guy Tal. (I have no financial incentive in recommending this) Guy is a very thoughtful writer and the book is challenging. I recommend it. It has no tips for taking pictures, it is about why we take them.

    Artistic Promiscuity

    A recent chapter titled Artistic Promiscuity made me examine some of my beliefs. Like many artists, I occasionally have self-doubt about my style – about whether I really have one. Guy poses the situation ‘I was baffled when I recently heard from a fellow photographer asking if I would recommend avoiding viewing other people’s photographs as a means of isolating one’s own “vision”.’

    A vocal proponent of just such a position is my friend Cole Thompson. His blog is well written and has some great insights. But he has a controversial position for his own life, he does not look at other people’s images. He calls it Photographic Celibacy.

    Guy attacks this straw man he set up, arguing about artistic history and how creativity flowed and developed over time as artists were inspired by other artist’s work. And he talks about how seeing great art is inspiring and elevating, especially to another artist.

    He goes on to say “So be promiscuous, at least when it comes to art. Seek and study and contemplate and revel in art of all kinds and genres and styles – the more the better. Find what inspires you and articulate to yourself why it inspires you. Borrow but don’t steal; incorporate but don’t imitate. Find inspiration, wisdom, and knowledge in the works of others, and in return strive to inspire others with your own work. Such has always been the way of artists.”

    Guy’s advice is very mature and inclusive. He has a strong world view and belief structure. A self-confidence that comes from experience and values. It is good advice, at least for him. It may not be universal advice for everyone in every stage of development.

    Photographic Celibacy

    Cole, on the other hand says; “As I stopped looking at other people’s images and focused on what I was creating and what I thought of my work, my Vision began to emerge. The work I am creating now is my work, not an imitation of someone else’s.”

    He has been on this path for years and is not likely to change his mind. He says “Ten years later and I’m still practicing Photographic Celibacy because I find it a useful practice for two reasons: first I’m still inclined to copy other’s work. … And the other reason I still find Photographic Celibacy useful: it keep me focused on what I am doing and not what others are doing. When I look at the work of others I find myself comparing their images and successes to mine. Sometimes I get discouraged at the large number of great photographers out there and all of the great images being created. All of this is an unnecessary distraction that keeps me from my purpose: creating images from my Vision.”

    This seems to work well for him. Cole has a distinct style and he is a great photographer.

    What is Vision?

    These two good artists disagree in how to develop your vision and grow as an artist, but what do they believe “vision” really is?

    Guy says “There is nothing to find – your vision, voice, and personal style are already in you by virtue of the unique amalgam of experiences, sensibilities, stories, and beliefs that make you who you are.”

    On the other hand, Cole says of vision “It is the sum total of your life experiences, it is the lenses you see the world through, it is your photographic personality and it is your inner voice (or the ‘force’ for you Star Wars fans). There is no need to be able to define, identify or describe your Vision. All you really need to know is that your Vision is there and then follow it.”

    Put these side by side and they are really saying the same thing – our vision is a unique property of who we are. It is inherent in each of us.

    Who is right?

    It seems that the Artistic Promiscuity position and the Photographic Celibacy position share the same belief of what Vision is. The difference is how to get there.

    Who is right? I believe Guy is right for Guy and Cole is right for Cole. They each recognize something about themselves that requires or allows them to behave in a certain way.

    Cole adopted his philosophy early in his formal career when he had doubts about his vision and style. He recognized that he was being influenced by other artists and needed to isolate himself to discover his vision. He recognizes and clearly states that this path is not for most people.

    Guy seems to be have a personality that thrives on the inspiration from other artists. He is confident in his vision and does not feel any temptation to imitate them.

    They are both right – for themselves.

    Fragile style?

    So is style really fragile? Probably not, but following and expressing our style is a very personal and individual journey. We may be going to the same place but we all take a different path to get there. Some of us get lost on our path and end up in the weeds.

    I admire that Cole recognized his nature and need and acted accordingly. It would be great to have the confidence of Guy, but in reality I am more like Cole. I am getting better, but the artistic spirit is a strange mixture of fragile and robust.

    Theodore Roosevelt said “Comparison is the thief of joy.”

    I think this is a wise warning. It is well proven that spending too much time on Facebook is destructive because you compare your everyday life that you know has problems to the happy, exaggerated image others portray.

    Likewise, being a photographic artist is a difficult thing these days. Everyone in the world is a photographer it seems. We are flooded with beautiful images all the time. It is hard not to compare ourselves to the best work we see out there and not feel doubt. It is hard sometimes not to think we should do work more like something we admired.

    Promiscuous or celibate? I think we have to know our own nature enough to decide.

    Is style fragile? No, not if it is really just who we are. It is probably not the style that is fragile but it can be hard to have the confidence to believe in ourselves and follow our own style. It can be hard to go against the stream of popularity. And some of us may need a quiet place to recognize our style and get to know it.

    How about you? What are your thoughts about style?

  • Get Out and Take Pictures

    Get Out and Take Pictures

    The image above was taken on a beautiful Colorado afternoon in the mountains. It was 1 degree F, snowing, and windy, about a foot of fresh snow. Awesome! Except for the wind. Still, an excellent opportunity to get out and take pictures!

    This is a theme I keep coming back to. You don’t improve your technique or vision by sitting around thinking about it. You have to take pictures. And evaluate them and throw most away. Daily should be a goal. Up to a point the weather shouldn’t matter.

    My inspiration comes mostly from the outdoors, so that is what I will talk about. If you do your work in the studio and that is where you get your best, most creative ideas, great for you. I will be outside taking my inspiration from the world around me and getting exercise, fresh air, vitamine D, etc.

    Shoot in these conditions

    Cloudy day? GREAT. Use that giant soft box to look for those soft light images you have been wanting to take. And if it is scattered, broken clouds that is great too. It gives much more interest to the sky.

    Sunny? GREAT. Use it. In Colorado, where I am most of the time, the sun is harsh and clear, not filtered through a lot of atmosphere. Conventional wisdom is that you can’t take outdoor images during the middle of the day when the sun is overhead. I like to challenge that. It is a good creative exercise.

    Raining? GREAT. Unless it is a thunderstorm or really pouring down pack up a minimal set of gear and get out. Your camera is probably more water resistant than you think. Just keep it covered as much as possible and wipe it down frequently. And it won’t hurt you to get wet.

    Snowing? GREAT. See above. I love good snowy pictures. I am amazed at the range of moods I can find.

    Fog? GREAT. I love it. I don’t get nearly as much practice with this as many people do. It is too dry here. But fog is great for moody, minimalistic compositions. And the junk areas you pass by every day take on a whole new interest when blurred by the fog.

    Cold? GREAT. Bundle up and get outside. Take an extra battery, because your camera battery is not as robust as you are. Other than the battery, your camera is pretty tough. I have a beard and I sometimes come back with my beard completely caked with ice. You warm up.

    Hot? GREAT. For me personally, this is one of the conditions I like least. I grew up in the southern USA. Summer days could be 110 F. I hated it and moved away when I could. Still, I challenge myself to go out almost every day in the summer. (It’s usually only in the 90’s here)

    Practice leads to…

    You get the idea. If you see a dedicated athlete, musician, writer, teacher, engineer, whatever, how do they get better? They practice. Every day. Obsessively. That is not all they do, but the good ones all do it.

    That basketball player may spend hours shooting free throws or practicing layups. That is not playing a game. But the point is it is building the reflexes and the muscle memory that will be used in the game. Making the moves automatic.

    When we are out for our daily practice do not have the attitude that every image has to be great. They won’t be. Mine are not even if I am trying to shoot good ones. Practice is to build skill. Plan on throwing most away.

    And the process lets us evaluate what we are doing. We can think more about what we like and what we will avoid. We see what works for us and what does not. This leads to helping us to perfect our style.

    I have mentioned before that one of my heroes is Jay Maisel. I think he is in his 80’s, but I believe he still goes out walking every day looking for pictures. He’s starting to get pretty good. 🙂

    Discipline

    Have you heard music or other things referred to as a “discipline”? It is a very appropriate term. To build skill you must discipline yourself. The repetition, the striving to improve each time helps you grow into your skill.

    Photography is no different. Constant practice helps us improve our skills. Technical decisions become quick and effortless. We learn to more easily analyze a scene and hone in on the part that is important to us. Most important, we learn what we want to bring to our images.

    Plan on throwing most of your practice away. The real benefit of these images if learning.

    Have you tried this? Do you agree? Let me know.

  • Memory

    Memory

    Photographs are memory. Most of us take “snapshots” to record moments we want to remember. Facebook, Snapchat, and most other social media exists on snapshots.

    I have a whole image library of family and friend pictures. They are very important to me personally, even though I do not share them on social media (I’m one of the last remaining holdouts in the world).

    My images are my memories

    I also have a large library of my professional images. These are just as much my memories as the pictures of my grandkids. In some ways these are even more important.

    I have a terrible memory for dates, which is weird, because as an engineer, I have a better chance of remembering your phone number than I do your name. My wife can ask me when we went on a certain trip and I might guess a date that is 10 years off.

    But when I see one of my images, the whole context immediately comes back as a well formed memory (except for the date ☺). Without hesitation I can tell you where it was, what time of the year, what the weather was like, what trip it was on, who we were with, and what the circumstances of the picture were. And if it was a trip, what we were driving.

    Is this relevant to you? Probably not. It definitely is to me. These are my memories. Sometime in the future, if I start loosing my memory, I hope these will still bring back these contexts for a long time.

    But I want you to hang my images on your wall. Why should you want my memories? You don’t. I hope to bring other things that are of value to you.

    Place

    If I tell you that when making a certain image the temperature was -10F and the wind was blowing and my hands were freezing even with gloves on, that might give you some greater sense of the situation. Kind of like the image at the top of this post. This brings a notion of place to the appreciation of an image. You didn’t experience it directly, but you can empathize.

    Even better, though, is if I can bring this sense of place into the image. So you can feel the bone chilling conditions by looking at it. If I am sufficiently skilled and if my story telling skill is up to it, it can often be done. I try.

    This example isn’t necessarily a place many of us would want to be. I’m weird that way. But I think it illustrates that an image doesn’t have to be about puppies and beaches and sunsets to tell a worthwhile story. And a story can be compelling enough to make you want to have it to look at, even if you’ve never been there and don’t want to. It brings more of the world to us.

    Connections

    More powerful even than a strong sense of place is the connection it can bring you. I believe most of us long for more connection to nature, to the real world. It feels like home.

    Unfortunately, most people these days live in cities. Even if they are not directly in a city, most people are so busy with everyday life that they lose touch with the real world. When you are so busy, you forget.

    Images, on your wall, where your can meditate and reflect on them, are a powerful antidote to this disconnection. Especially if the images are places or things that symbolize where you want to be, that make you feel whole. Even if they are just of something that makes you stop to look and think.

    Some ask me why my landscape images almost never have people in them. This is part of my value system. I feel that if people are there, that is their place, their memories. If no one else is there, it is pristine, unclaimed in a sense. It can be your place, your memory. Even if you have never been there, you feel that it is someplace you would like to be. You can visualize yourself in the scene. It becomes a connection for you to that world.

    The knowledge that such places exist, even if we do not see them ourselves, is powerful and centering. Pablo Picasso said “The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” I believe this is one of the things that makes art worthwhile.

    I hope you will adopt some of my memories to bring more peace to your day.

    Is this true for you? Let me know what you think. And check out my online gallery at photos.schlotzcreate.com. Contact me if you find something you connect to and would like to have.

  • Practice, Practice, Practice

    Practice, Practice, Practice

    How do you get good at anything? Practice. Does it apply to art? Yes, practice. When? Now.

    Seemingly it is a very simple thing, but constant practice trains your muscles and your brain. It refines your skill and makes your decisions automatic. It improves your concentration and your vision.

    The 10,000 hour rule

    You can learn to do many things pretty well with about 40 hours of work. Yet it is said that to become great at something takes 10,000 hours of practice. Now realistically, few people will put in 10,000 hours on anything (except maybe watching TV). That is 5 years of doing nothing else except practicing your craft for 40 hours a week. This is the level of effort required to become the level of a Michael Jordon or Tiger Woods. But isn’t that the level we aspire to as artists? I do.

    That seems an unrealistically high standard. But in most unrealistic situations, you do what you can. Putting in the time consistently is key. A good discipline is to make yourself get out with your camera every day. Having it in your hand makes it comfortable. It teaches you to see more, observe. You will not make a great image every day. That is not the point. The point is to improve.

    “The discipline of practice every day is essential. When I skip a day, I notice a difference in my playing. After two days, the critics notice, and after three days, so does the audience.”

    Jascha Heifetz, renowned violinist

    One of my exercises is to practice street photography a few times a week. I touched on this in my article on hunting images. It gives great practice in consciousness, fast reflexes, anticipation, using your camera with little thought. Most of my work is not street photography, but this is great skill development for everything else I do.

    Carry a camera

    It is hard to practice if you don’t have your tools. Not impossible, just hard. Going to the trouble of having your camera with you provides an important discipline. It is intentional. You have consciously committed to making images. It gives you permission (in your mind) to look for and take pictures. It makes you aware and on the prowl.

    The great Wayne Gretzsky famously said “You miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take.” This is true of photography, not just hockey. When you are carrying your camera, make yourself stop and capture interesting scenes when you see them. As I noted in a another post, it won’t be there tomorrow.

    Examine, improve

    The purpose of doing this practice is to improve. It has been said that in 20 years, some people get 20 years of experience and some people have 1 year of experience repeated 20 times. Doing the same thing over and over without improving is very sad.

    Unless you have someone you trust to critique your work frequently, you have to learn to do it yourself. Be honest with yourself. And brutal. Did that work? Was it what you wanted? Is it technically perfect? Was the composition effective? And one of the hardest to judge objectively: is it actually a great picture?

    I used the 10,000 hour rule to give a sense of how long it takes to become an expert, but it is well known that the so called rule is flawed. People often practice for 10,000 hours or more but remain mediocre. Why? They are not learning from their mistakes! They get 1 year of experience 20 times. Don’t make the mistake of not learning from your mistakes.

    Be brutal on yourself. Better you than other people. The reality is most of your shots will not be very good. Most of mine are not. That’s OK. You have to get a lot of bad shots out of your system before you can start making better ones consistently. Be honest with yourself. When a frame just doesn’t work, examine it carefully. Understand why. What can you learn from it? A bad shot may lead you to a new understanding and be more valuable than a good shot that doesn’t teach you anything.

    The few, the proud

    The legendary Ansel Adams said “A photographer does well to get a dozen first-quality shots a year.” Technology has changed a lot and it doesn’t take much time or cost to shoot a lot of digital frames. But how many of yours are really great? Quantity is not quality.

    I’ll be candid, looking at my digital collection only, less than 2% of my shots are “gallery quality”. Two out of 100. Is that discouraging? No, in a weird way it is empowering. Based on Adam’s experience I am encouraged to be getting that many. Or I could be delusional. Of course I keep a lot more than that for various reasons. And since I like to do collages I have a lot that are not stand alone but would be excellent material for constructing new composites.

    Not the outcome

    This leads to the final point for this post. When I am practicing, I need to concentrate on process, not outcome. I am learning, doing repetitions, trying experiments, getting more familiar with my equipment. This improves me over time and sharpens my eye. If I get a “keeper” during practice that is just a happy accident.

    Practice daily and plan to throw almost all of it away. It is worth it.

    Do you have a regular practice regime? Has it helped? Let me know!