Exploratory tromping post

When I was a kid I spent a lot of my time exploring. I dug around behind buildings, carved forts in blackberry brambles, tromped through the woods. I spent time in the places that are usually only visited by kids or sometimes the homeless.

Yesterday I spent about half the day out shooting and it was just like being a kid again. I was with George in a hilly part of Portland that sprawls with lots of gravel roads and forest near the interstate. It's the forgotten armpit of the city, kept from development by the natural deafening roar of highway traffic, and with probably the highest concentration of strip clubs in the city. We walked here and there on sidewalks or trails, over fences, down ravines. The whole while we were out I kept thinking, this is just like being a kid. We're visiting places rarely traveled by anyone who doesn't live nearby or maybe the occasional photographer. The sense of exploration is a true creative engine.

Poking around behind some low-rent apartments I was approached by the manager. There'd been reports of people with cameras and what was my story? I launched into a detailed explanation of the Grid project, showed him the map, explained it was harmless. About two minutes into it I could tell he'd softened. He had no idea what my project was about but I realized that it didn't matter what I said. It was the tone, the authority. As long there was some objective reason for my presence and as long as I could explain it, it didn't matter what it was. I could say, "I've been sent by aliens to perform experiments on the dwellers here," and if it sounded like it had passed through the proper channels he would be ok with it. But if I'd said, "I'm exploring your area with fresh eyes like a kid," there might've been trouble.

The number of places one can photograph freely is diminishing. Most private places ban photography, period. Public spaces allow it but the act is viewed with suspicion. Within my lifetime I expect public photography in the U.S. to be severely restricted as it already is in the UK and France. It's ok. I'll continue to photograph in any space public or private in complete disregard for any law, and in fact I encourage everyone to ignore any restrictions on photography. Photograph bridges. Photograph kids. Photograph nuclear facilities. Photograph anything you're not supposed to. Photography is not a crime!

The Jordan Schnitzer Museum makes the right move
All of which serves as backdrop to my recent visit to the Jordan Schnitzer Museum on the U of O campus, where I received a pleasant surprise. Photography in the galleries used to be prohibited. Now the rules have changed and it is allowed anywhere in the museum except for a few specific artworks. This has to be one of the few instances in the country of an institution liberalizing their photography policy! Can anyone out there come up with another recent example?

Paul McDonough

I like Paul McDonough's work quite a bit:








What ever happened to this guy? He popped up briefly in 2007 with a show at Sasha Wolf but beyond that he seems to be off the radar.

Of course one could just as easily ask, What ever happened to 1970s street photography? The photos above, most of which are from the 70s, are wonderful examples of the style which was king back then, concise observations captured in 35 mm b/w. The object wasn't to document anything in particular but go out into real life and come back with photos which worked. Wessel, Papageorge, Levitt, Perkis, Kalvar, Winogrand, Erwitt, Friedlander, Dane, the list goes on... They were all masters of the aesthetic. Perhaps "observational" is a better word than "street"?

4th St., NYC, 1970 by Richard Kalvar
This makes a nice pair with the street musician shot above
This style is over 30 years old but it's still my favorite. I would choose a well-seen 70s style moment over just about any other type of photo. Not only is it my favorite to look at, but shooting 35 mm b/w is the heart of my daily practice.

I know I'm old fashioned. The attention of the photo world is now firmly elsewhere. Now the emphasis is on ideas and anyone who takes photos just for the sake of the photo is wasting their time. Folks like McDonough are left like forgotten detritus along the course of history.

Well, not completely forgotten. More photos and a brief bio can be found here.

XOXO MOMA

I'm very pleased to announce that after months of negotiation, I've finally agreed to terms with The Museum of Modern Art. In April they will be showcasing a one-man retrospective of my work at their Western Oregon Field Gallery located inside Wandering Goat Coffee Co. in Eugene's Whiteaker neighborhood. Due to the Field Gallery's limited wallspace the retrospective will be edited down to 12 to 15 prints. In fact MOMA prefers that I don't refer to it as a retrospective, but instead as a theme-based exhibition with specific subject matter to be decided. Actually MOMA would prefer that I don't use the word MOMA at all in the publicity. Their legal representation was quite adamant on that point. I know, I know, they're being really weird about this. I'd call to ask why but the restraining order specifically prohibits any further attempt to contact them. I guess that's just how things work when you reach the big time. It's ok. I get it. Most of the logistical planning for the show falls on my shoulders, so I can understand the museum's reluctance to take credit. That's all right, MOMA. I still love you.

What To Do? #10

28. SE 50th and Belmont, Portland, 2001

29. Waterfront Park, Portland, 2002

30. Morrison Bridge, Portland, 2003

(What To Do? is a weekly installment of previously unpublished b/w photos from my archives)

Mondovino and The Gift

In the past week I've encountered two titles which have shifted my thoughts on photography, neither one of which mentions the word photography even once. The first is the film Mondovino, a 2004 documentary exploring the winemaking industry in various parts of the world. Although it doesn't ever come out and say so, the film is basically a Marxist critique of globalization. Traditional past-times are assimilated into global industry as big guy swallows little guy. You know the story. Where it relates to photography is in wine's fiercely hierarchical system of aesthetics. There is a small handful of wine critics which decide which wines are good and which aren't. The main one is a man named Robert Parker. There are one or two others. They rank each wine with a number, say 91 out of 100. That ranking generates an entire series of dynamics which effects everything that happens to that wine. It determines the sales price of the wine, the prestige of the vineyard, and the value of all land growing a certain type of grape. What's more it creates a blanket aesthetic for the industry. The critic's personal taste becomes the de facto standard taste. If he likes a certain style of wine, e.g. oaky or with lots of tannin, it creates pressure on the entire industry to shift toward that taste. Individualism suffers. Homogenization triumphs, generally speaking. I could translate the whole thing into photographic terms but I'm sure you can already see where this is going. Powerful tastemakers determine the market, etc etc etc. See the movie for details.

The other title which has stirred up questions for me is Lewis Hyde's classic book The Gift: Imagination and the Erotic Life of Property, an examination of how creative works are treated in the market. I have always wrestled with the issue of selling photographs, how to price them, if to price them. Some photographs sell for thousands. Some better ones sell for $50. For a long while I just gave up and tried to give away photographs for free, but even that didn't work. For some reason that seems still unexplained every photograph out there has a price attached to it. Why is that? Are they just another commodity? Should art be treated differently somehow? Hyde really gets to the heart of the whole issue. He analyzes the gift economy throughout history and examines its relationship to the standard market. For anyone in the creative arts -for which the motivation is usually something beyond money- this is a wonderful universe of ideas. It's the type of thinking that's so fresh and individual that he must've secluded himself for years to come up with it. See the book for details.