Showing posts with label Minor White. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Minor White. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Ten "Epiphanous" Photographs: #1

In Lenswork Issue #63 (March-April, 2006), editor Brooks Jensen has a wonderful essay that begins with the question: "If you were going to demonstrate to a non-photographer the nature of fine art photography and why you are so passionate about it, which ten photographs would you show them?"

What a provocative (and deceptively difficult) question! Naturally, it prompted me to reflect on what my own choices might be at this time and stage of creative life. Of course, I realize that what my 45 year self currently believes are the "epiphanous" photographs that have helped form and shape my photographic I/eye's evolution are likely representative of neither what my I/eye most deeply cherished ten or twenty years ago (though the overlap is large) nor what I may cite as my first inspirational visual stepping stones 20 or 30 years from now.

Having done away with this obvious, but important, caveat, I offer the first of ten photographs that were - each in their own way - epiphanous to me, as an ever-evolving photographer, and my best "explanation" (as per Brooks Jensen's question) to others why I am passionate about fine art photography...

Epiphanous Photograph #1: Minor White's, Capitol Reef, Utah (1962):


Minor White (1908-76), who taught at MIT from 1965 until his death and was one of the founders of Aperture Magazine (in 1952), was arguably one of the most gifted "spiritual" photographers of the 20th century. By that I mean that White's lifelong approach to photography was predicated on the notion that a photograph - in particular, a fine art photograph - must transcend its merely physically manifest form and capture something of the timeless inner presence that defines the soul "taking" it.

White's Capitol Reef (the exact date of my first viewing of which I cannot recall) is the very first photograph I remember seeing that absolutely stunned me, rendering me virtually speechless; all I kept saying for days afterward was "Wow!".

The reason for my reaction was (and still is) how subtly it enfolds objective and subjective realities. What at first site appears to be nothing more than a "mere" beautiful pattern of stone, quietly, almost imperceptively, shifts into an unrecognizable, and - almost paradoxically, even more beautiful - subjective pattern of shapes, textures and tones. Reality, in short, has simply dissapeared, and has been replaced - by what? - anything the viewer's eye/I happens to see at the moment of viewing.

Outer objective reality blended, and enfolded, into subjective, inner truth and vision; and a "mere" representational photograph transformed into a glimpse of a transcendent dynamic reality. It is also the photograph that made me fall in love with fine art photography.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Great book on the "art" of photography


Here is a great book on the art of photography by Nicholas Hlobeczy, called A Presence Behind the Lens: Photography And Reflections. The book is part memoir (including stories of Hlobeczy's friend and mentor Minor White), part meditation on photography, and part philosophy of art and the art of finding oneself through art. It also contains a wonderful selection of quiet, Zen-like B&W photos that simultaneously instill a sense of calm and wonder.

While there are millions of "photographers" in the world (both amateur and professional), and thousands of books on and/or "about" photography, few - very few - actually say anything deeply lasting about the fine art of photography as a meditation on life and meaning. Hlobeczy's book stands apart from the far more conventional offerings by not only sharing his quiet soulful view of the world, but allowing us to glimpse, however briefly, the process by which his soulful vision came to be.

It is truly a small treasure of a book, one to be cherished and reflected upon again and again by all aspiring photographers. Hlobeczy's website contains numerous other samples of his work.