Thursday, September 11, 2008

1000 words worth?

As a follow up to the gasoline picture post, Ben Levine sent me this one by Walker Evans which I was unable to find online

and one by himself, which makes a nice comparison to Elaine Mayes' photo.


Thanks, Ben. (Pitchertaker also linked to an image but the link appears broken)

In response to my recent Mona Lisa Smile post, Nick said, "I don't see what your point is," a valid statement since I didn't include any supporting text. I wanted the photos to just tell their own story at first before I gave them any interpretation. But since you asked...

The Mona Lisa series follows on the heels of Gasoline Pictures which was spurred by a Winogrand quote. Winogrand got me thinking about Frank pioneering the gas station image and I started wondering, well just how many people have explored that idea? I began searching for gas station images and found that I couldn't stop. I think it's quite fascinating to compare how different photographers have approached similar material, some on their own, some with the knowledge in their head of what others have done. And the look of gas stations is very closely connected to specific historical time, so this subject seemed a natural topic.

Putting together the Gasoline Pictures was so fun I decided to repeat it with some other subject. I bumped around a few topics but nothing seemed quite right. It was around then that I saw the current Mark Stienmetz show in Portland, which included the image I posted. I was really taken with the photo. Her pose, her hand, the metal spirals, everything about it was very classical. But it was her face which really sank into my brain. It seemed both expressive and unreadable. What's more it seemed an obvious reference to the Mona Lisa. What was Steinmetz tapping into here which was universal, which perhaps also explained some of the Mona Lisa's power? I started poking around for similar images and that became the next subject.

Looking for Mona Lisa images was like a treasure hunt. Of all the portrait work done over the centuries by photographers, it's amazing how little of it shows anyone smiling. It's as if the smile has been banned from art, relegated to the birthday snapshot, dismissed as unserious out of hand. Finding this particular smile was even more difficult. Pursed lips, the slightest curl at one side, knowing eyes. I looked at a ton of photos and it was always a nice flash of recognition to see these things, to know I'd found one.

Nick's criticism is in some ways accurate. "So far as I can see," he says, "the only Mona Lisa smile here is on the face of the Mona Lisa. The rest may or may not (in some cases) be vague echoes, but all have their own individuality, thank goodness. There are no copies here!" Of course with such a wide range of subjects and photographers this is true. No one is the same and no moment is the same.

But I think the smile does tie together these images. Perhaps it's similar to the Bechers' industrial studies. The fact that every refinery has its own unique character doesn't negate their commonality. In the case of Mona Lisa it's even more interesting because that image is so ubiquitous. There are very few photographers living or dead who don't know that face, and so it must've been there as a reference on some level, either before the act of creation or afterward. Given the history of that smile, I'm really interested in how photographers have reacted to and interpreted similar ones.

Sooo...long story short I plan for this to become a regular series and I'm open to suggestions for future collections. The web has opened up an entire new frontier of personal curation. It would've been impossible to collect or present these images outside of the internet. Acquiring publication rights alone would've killed any such project. Now we are floating in a sea of photographs and one task is to edit them into something coherent and new.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Mona Lisa Smile

Leonardo da Vinci

Southworth and Hawes

Alexander Gardner

August Sander

Mike Disfarmer

Diane Arbus

Peter Hujar

Mary Ellen Mark

Tom Sandberg

Shelby Lee Adams


David Armstrong

Nicolas Nixon

Annie Leibovitz

Richard Avedon

Joel Sternfeld

Martin Schoeller


Tina Barney

Rineke Dijkstra

Mark Steinmetz

There are no accidents

It's that time of year again when political ads saturate the airwaves. I'm probably not the first person to notice this but why is it that many ads divide their portrayals into panchromatic images and monochrome? The politician running the ad is almost always shown in color. This is contrasted with a small grainy image of the opponent, which more often than not is shown in black and white.

I'm curious what's going on here. I know there are no accidents in these ads. They are focus grouped to death before release. So what information is out there that's creating this division? Is there something inherent in b/w that stirs up negative connotations? Is it because many mugshots are b/w, and so an unconscious link to drawn to that? Or is it that b/w is seen as symbolic of the past, while the (presumably rosy if candidate A is elected) future is in color? I'm really not sure, but I think this issue is probably relevant for photographers in their choice between color and b/w.

Any ideas? Anyone?

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Those gasoline pictures

Dorothea Lange

Ansel Adams

Ed Ruscha

Henry Wessel

Robert Adams

William Gedney

George Tice

William Christenberry

Lee Friedlander

William Eggleston

Stephen Shore

Tod Papageorge

Joel Meyerowitz

Elaine Mayes

Martin Parr

Alec Soth

Brian Ulrich

Amy Stein

Zoe Strauss

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

That gasoline picture

"In October 1970 Winogrand was at the Rochester Institute of Technology, New York, showing slides, taking questions from the audience. Someone asked him about Frank's photos of the American flag. Winogrand said that they didn't interest him much. He preferred to talk about the picture of the gas station that Frank had photographed near Santa Fe, New Mexico. It's a picture of five 'Shamrock' gas pumps against a nondescript landscape. Looming over the pumps is a sign with the letters S A V E illuminated and the intervening ones — G A S — barely visible.

That's all there is, but, for Winogrand, the fact that it's 'a photograph of nothing', that 'the subject has no dramatic ability of its own whatsoever', makes it 'one of the most important pictures in the book'. What amazed Winogrand was that Frank could even 'conceive of that being a photograph in the first place'. Quizzed by his audience Winogrand rambled on about other things but then came back to 'that gasoline picture'. The important thing is
'the photographer's understanding of possibilities. When he took that photograph, he couldn't possibly know — he just could not know that it would work, that it would be a photograph. He knew he probably had a chance. In other words, he cannot know what that's going to look like as a photograph. I mean, understanding fully that he's going to render what he sees, he still does not know what it's going to look like as a photograph. Something, the act of photographing something changes it...'"

—excerpted from The Ongoing Moment by Geoff Dyer, Pantheon Books, 2005