Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Lost and Freund

A few weeks ago at the U of O Library I was thumbing through an old Creative Camera compilation and stumbled on the work of David Freund. There were just three photos and no background information.




I found the first two photos interesting, but it was the third one of half a dog that really caught my eye. I think it's the best photo I've seen in the past several months. It has a loose snapshot quality but it's actually a very tight photo. Every element fits like a jigsaw. It's hard to plan a photo like that, harder to execute it, and harder yet to notice it on the contact sheet. If Freund was going to leave a photo behind as a marker in an old photo journal, a message to the future, that was a good one to choose.

So who was David Freund? He seemed to be something of a Friedlander-style formalist, someone who knew how to put shapes together, or at least did 40 years ago, but the only thing I knew about him were these three photos.

Digging online I discovered that he'd been featured in issue 14:3 of SPE's Exposure back in 1976. On my next visit to the library I tracked down the Freund issue. There were three of his photographs and a short introduction by none other than William Jenkins. The photographs showed the same strong jigsaw quality as the earlier three but the reproduction quality was terrible. There was no way I could make good scans.

I came home and did some more digging. I discovered that David Freund is not a wedding photographer in Australia. Nor is he a photographer in Edmonds, WA. No, the David Freund in question was a retired Professor Emeritus of Photography at Ramapo College of New Jersey. He'd chaired the art department and exhibited widely.

In 2007, he'd had a large retrospective exhibition at Ramapo. The accompanying essay by Steven Skopik can be found here but unfortunately all online images from the show are too small to give much detail. This one, for example, looks intriguing but at less than 300 pixels across it's hard to say for sure.


"Freund seems interested in noticing for us the world’s basic strangeness, typically by means of wry observation, telling juxtapositions, and provocative elisions," says Skopik. That description certainly fit everything I'd seen, but too much was being lost in translation. In Exposure and online the reproductions were too low quality to judge.

I contacted Freund. He was nice. He couldn't remember much about the dog photo except that it was shot on one of his annual visits to Maine. He offered to send a catalog from the Ramapo show. In the meantime, he pointed me to some of his images online here from a project shooting gas stations under an NEA grant. Although still on the smallish side, they're good enough jpgs to get a sense of how he sees. I like these two in particular.




Ironically the best Freund reproductions I can find online aren't by Freund at all. They're from his collection of Japanese Matchboxes. Like most photographers, Freund appears to be something of a packrat, collecting "razor blade wrappers, hairnet packages, hot pot holders and whiskers from his cats," according to Design Observer. The matchbox covers, like his photographs, show compositional flair.

from David Freund's matchbox collection

Of course the Japanese have been at this a while. Stephen Shore in The Nature of Photographs makes a careful comparison between old Japanese woodblock prints and photographic composition. Maybe some of that design sense has carried over to matchboxes.

"Notice the leg jutting into the image..." writes Shore about the woodblock print, in a passage that might just as easily describe Freund's dog photo. "It typifies the sort of seemingly arbitrary cropping that occurs when the frame of a photograph slices through the world. While it doesn't relate to the unfolding drama of the picture, it does imply that this drama is a part of the larger world."

So I'm now awaiting Freund's catalog in the mail. I'm sure it will have better reproductions than anything I can find online. Perhaps I'll do a follow up post if it turns up anything interesting.

Monday, February 6, 2012

Lost and Found: Natali

Several weeks ago I wrote about Enrico Natali. I'd found a nice old monograph by him on the used rack but was stymied trying to investigate him online. All I could find was "a somewhat thin website" with a small scattering of recent color photos. My local library also turned up empty.

A portrait from Natali's recently revamped site

What a difference a month makes. Since that post Natali has revamped his site, adding many older photos from 1960s. He's scheduled to have two solo exhibitions this year, his first in four decades. To top it off, Nazraeli has just published a book of his early photos, New York Subway, 1960. I thumbed through it last week at Ampersand and it's nicely done. I know the New York subway genre has since been beaten to death but this is a good early example, shot before the publication of Many Are Called or any other serious subway book.

from New York Subway, 1960

I've had fun digging through the revamped site. I think there are some fine photos in there, along with a basic life chronology. It's been quite an interesting path for Natali, in and out of photography, Zen, family tragedy, various New Age disciplines. He's almost 80 now and still shooting.

I'm not sure why his work is resurfacing at this moment, but the fact that it's happening now en masse just as I stumble on him in a bookstore is kind of fun. It makes me wonder how that book wound up there. Maybe someone planted hundreds of copies in stores around the country. If true, a beautiful strategy. But unlikely.

I'm more inclined to chalk it up to the shifting cycle of anonymity and notoriety in photography, a cycle which is beyond anyone's understanding. It's a cycle I'll explore this week in a series of Lost and Found posts. Don't turn that dial, more on the way...

Saturday, February 4, 2012

B is the new Black

February is Black History Month in the United States. Not only has black culture made immeasurable contributions to American society, the color black (or absence of all color) has been very important in photographic history, especially to black and white photography. In honor of those contributions, B will be black for this entire weekend (Feb 4 & 5).

You may find the words slightly harder to read against the darkened background. I've found that it sort of works if you highlight the text you want to read. Or you can copy and paste into a new document, or as a last resort if you squint at the screen for several minutes while your eyes adjust, you should be able to read this. But whatever, I'll leave the final choice to you.

On Monday B will revert back to the normal background color, the gradually yellowing old newspaper tone that you've all become familiar with. Have a great weekend.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Top 10 Reasons Bats Make Poor Photographers

10. Nocturnal habits limit available light shooting.

9. Claw hands tear through film. Cannot operate tripod, remote flash, or computer tether.

8. Echolocation limits pinpoint focus, and zone focusing not appropriate at night.

7. Easily distracted whenever fruit is in the vicinity.

6. Lightweight. Can't support heavy cameras for long hours, and smaller point-n-shoots are generally designed to be batproof.

5. Chronic chimping exacerbates white-nose syndrome.

4. Upon inspection, Pine Tar exceeds 18 inch limit specified in Rule 1.10(c)

3. Large ears make it hard to blend into crowds unnoticed.

2. Unfounded myth of poor eyesight discourages photo agencies from signing bats to contracts.

1. Photos easily categorized: Motion blurred or upside down.