Maurice Sendak turns 81 today. Maybe it's a good evening to pull out your copy of the book to read to your kids, or to yourself.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
And the walls became the world all around
On the topic of of visual depictions that rely more on imagination than factual accuracy, only 128 days remain until the unveiling of Where The Wild Thing Are's translation from drawing to film. Although I'm usually leery of Hollywood blockbusters, I'm really looking forward to this one. It seems like I've been waiting in and out of weeks and almost over a year. Wolfsuited young Max is played by Max Records, the son of Portland photographer Shawn Records (you knew I had to have a photography angle, right?).
Where the Wild Things Are, book version
Where the Wild Things Are, film version
Maurice Sendak turns 81 today. Maybe it's a good evening to pull out your copy of the book to read to your kids, or to yourself.
Maurice Sendak turns 81 today. Maybe it's a good evening to pull out your copy of the book to read to your kids, or to yourself.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
Insight into Genesis
The new collaborative photo blog insight promises to be bookmark worthy. Today is the blog's fifth day of existence. On the first day, Hin Chua created a fascinating study of Papageorge's Passing Through Eden, and it was good.
Like Chua I'd assumed the book was loosely based on Genesis but hadn't realized how literal the relationship was. According to notes spelled out in one of his lectures, Papageorge intended certain photos to communicate exact passages and the order of the photos follows the story of creation. For example, this photo is meant to be a depiction of man in God's image (presumably taken on day seven):
God created man in his own image
from Passing Through Eden, Tod Papageorge
As fate would have it, the day after Chua's article appeared The New Yorker (June 8 & 15, 2009) arrived in the mail featuring an eleven page excerpt of Robert Crumb's Genesis project. I found the comparison irresistible. Here is the Tree of Life as depicted by Crumb...
...and Papageorge's version (speculatively selected from several tree photographs in the beginning of the book):
The Tree of Life
from Passing Through Eden by Tod Papageorge
A key moment depicted by Crumb...
and Papageorge:
"...And Adam knew Eve his wife..."
from Passing Through Eden by Tod Papageorge
Crumb's version of The Fall...
...and Papageorge's:
I could go on but I think you get the point. Check out the books to see each artist's full treatment of Genesis.
The thing I find most interesting here is that the role of photography and drawing seem to have switched places. Photography is usually thought of as a straightforward, descriptive medium. If you want to communicate what an apple looks like you don't draw it. You take a photo. A drawing may be a way to convey impressions about the energy or character of the apple, but a photograph provides the most direct description.
In the Genesis of Papageorge and Crumb, The roles are reversed. Papageorge's photographs are metaphorical while Crumb's drawings seem quite direct and literal. Papageorge uses a snaky shadow to pass for a serpent while Crumb draws the real thing. Where Papageorge shows a woman near an airborne ball to represent forbidden fruit, Crumb draws the apple.
How Genesis may have looked many eons ago
Some of this is due to the nature of the story. Genesis is more myth than history, and even if such events did occur they were so long ago that no visual information exists. To describe the story requires imagination more than descriptive accuracy, and someone who can draw whatever they need to has more flexibility than a photographer restricted to actual events.
In light of this fact, the way each artist treated the story is even more impressive. Crumb's drawings are quite plain and by-the-book, especially when compared to some of his other projects which graphically imagine every possible Id layer. And Papageorge has magically pulled the story of Genesis from a series of ordinary park wanderings. Both artists offer insights into Genesis not available from the straight text, as well as insight into the roles of photography and drawing.
Like Chua I'd assumed the book was loosely based on Genesis but hadn't realized how literal the relationship was. According to notes spelled out in one of his lectures, Papageorge intended certain photos to communicate exact passages and the order of the photos follows the story of creation. For example, this photo is meant to be a depiction of man in God's image (presumably taken on day seven):
from Passing Through Eden, Tod Papageorge
As fate would have it, the day after Chua's article appeared The New Yorker (June 8 & 15, 2009) arrived in the mail featuring an eleven page excerpt of Robert Crumb's Genesis project. I found the comparison irresistible. Here is the Tree of Life as depicted by Crumb...
...and Papageorge's version (speculatively selected from several tree photographs in the beginning of the book):
from Passing Through Eden by Tod Papageorge
A key moment depicted by Crumb...
and Papageorge:
from Passing Through Eden by Tod Papageorge
Crumb's version of The Fall...
...and Papageorge's:
"Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said unto the woman, Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden? And the woman said unto the serpent, We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden: But of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die. And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die: For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil..."
"...And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise..."
"...She took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat. And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked..."
I could go on but I think you get the point. Check out the books to see each artist's full treatment of Genesis.
The thing I find most interesting here is that the role of photography and drawing seem to have switched places. Photography is usually thought of as a straightforward, descriptive medium. If you want to communicate what an apple looks like you don't draw it. You take a photo. A drawing may be a way to convey impressions about the energy or character of the apple, but a photograph provides the most direct description.
In the Genesis of Papageorge and Crumb, The roles are reversed. Papageorge's photographs are metaphorical while Crumb's drawings seem quite direct and literal. Papageorge uses a snaky shadow to pass for a serpent while Crumb draws the real thing. Where Papageorge shows a woman near an airborne ball to represent forbidden fruit, Crumb draws the apple.
Some of this is due to the nature of the story. Genesis is more myth than history, and even if such events did occur they were so long ago that no visual information exists. To describe the story requires imagination more than descriptive accuracy, and someone who can draw whatever they need to has more flexibility than a photographer restricted to actual events.
In light of this fact, the way each artist treated the story is even more impressive. Crumb's drawings are quite plain and by-the-book, especially when compared to some of his other projects which graphically imagine every possible Id layer. And Papageorge has magically pulled the story of Genesis from a series of ordinary park wanderings. Both artists offer insights into Genesis not available from the straight text, as well as insight into the roles of photography and drawing.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Rephotographing Bridges
When I first became enamored with swinglens cameras several years ago Jeff Bridge's book Pictures was an inspiration. Yes, that Jeff Bridges. He's a photographer as well as an actor (among many other things). While on the sets of various movies, Bridges used a Widelux to create some great photos which he gave away to cast and crew.
My favorites in the book are from his series Comoedia/Tragoedia, for which Bridges shot the same actors twice in the same frame. A Widelux set at 1/15th takes a few seconds to make a complete circuit. Bridges used the first part of that time to capture a smiling portrait. Then, while the lens was still swinging he shifted the camera sideways to capture the same person again, this time with a frown (or maybe the frown came first. I'm not sure) to arrive at something like this:
John Turturro, 1993 by Jeff Bridges
Note that the vertical line down the middle isn't a frame division. It's from my scan across the book gutter. The blurry section near the center is from Bridges moving the camera during the exposure.
Michelle Pfeiffer, 1989 by Jeff Bridges
So far as I can tell Bridges is the only person to really explore this technique. His photos tend to have an extra oomph because they are of famous people, but I think anyone with a Widelux or Horizon could do something similar. I've tried with the Noblex and it doesn't work nearly as well because the camera only slows down to 1/30th (about 1.5 seconds in Noblex time). Instead of separate heads you get something like this:
Self Portrait, 2003, Blake Andrews
It wasn't until recently that I realized Bridges' photos could be considered a form of rephotography. As with Klett, Marten, Rauschenberg or any more traditional rephotographer, Bridges shot a subject then reshot it at a later time. It just so happened that the second shot was within a few seconds and in the same exposure.
Philip Seymour Hoffman, 1998 by Jeff Bridges
Cuba Gooding, Jr., 1994 by Jeff Bridges
Compiling multiple takes into one image isn't unique. Idris Kahn and Pelle Cass are only two among many who've explored its possibilities. But I think combining multiple takes into one exposure is unique. Does anyone know of another photographer pursuing something similar?
Martin Landau, 1988 by Jeff Bridges
Bridges' photos have a funky pre-digital originality that I find charming. With the advent of digital stitching and demise of film I doubt his technique will be explored much. The door is wide open for someone to push this idea's boundaries. How many distinct images of one subject can fit into a frame? Can you capture the subject on film as it transitions from smile to frown? How would it capture a dynamic scene like a sporting event or explosion?
Here's a shot of mine from several years ago. Although the camera didn't move, it managed to capture some bball players twice. On the right side of the frame, a player is about to release the ball. By the time the swinglens catches the shadow in the left of the frame, the ball is in the air. It's not quite a rephotograph but getting there.
Glencoe School, 2003, Blake Andrews
As this and Bridges' photos show, there are many many possibilities. It's sort of a tragi-comedy that few people have explored them.
My favorites in the book are from his series Comoedia/Tragoedia, for which Bridges shot the same actors twice in the same frame. A Widelux set at 1/15th takes a few seconds to make a complete circuit. Bridges used the first part of that time to capture a smiling portrait. Then, while the lens was still swinging he shifted the camera sideways to capture the same person again, this time with a frown (or maybe the frown came first. I'm not sure) to arrive at something like this:
Note that the vertical line down the middle isn't a frame division. It's from my scan across the book gutter. The blurry section near the center is from Bridges moving the camera during the exposure.
So far as I can tell Bridges is the only person to really explore this technique. His photos tend to have an extra oomph because they are of famous people, but I think anyone with a Widelux or Horizon could do something similar. I've tried with the Noblex and it doesn't work nearly as well because the camera only slows down to 1/30th (about 1.5 seconds in Noblex time). Instead of separate heads you get something like this:
It wasn't until recently that I realized Bridges' photos could be considered a form of rephotography. As with Klett, Marten, Rauschenberg or any more traditional rephotographer, Bridges shot a subject then reshot it at a later time. It just so happened that the second shot was within a few seconds and in the same exposure.
Compiling multiple takes into one image isn't unique. Idris Kahn and Pelle Cass are only two among many who've explored its possibilities. But I think combining multiple takes into one exposure is unique. Does anyone know of another photographer pursuing something similar?
Bridges' photos have a funky pre-digital originality that I find charming. With the advent of digital stitching and demise of film I doubt his technique will be explored much. The door is wide open for someone to push this idea's boundaries. How many distinct images of one subject can fit into a frame? Can you capture the subject on film as it transitions from smile to frown? How would it capture a dynamic scene like a sporting event or explosion?
Here's a shot of mine from several years ago. Although the camera didn't move, it managed to capture some bball players twice. On the right side of the frame, a player is about to release the ball. By the time the swinglens catches the shadow in the left of the frame, the ball is in the air. It's not quite a rephotograph but getting there.
As this and Bridges' photos show, there are many many possibilities. It's sort of a tragi-comedy that few people have explored them.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
What To Do #31
92. Jamison Fountain, Portland, 2004
93. Portland Rose Festival, 2004(WTD? is a weekly installment of old unseen b/w photos.)
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