Using what you have

Those who know me know that I am a bit of a gear head; I like to know anything and everything about my cameras, lenses, and software. I try to keep the best of my gear with me at all times, when I can't then I do my best to take the next best thing. Even though a camera is just a tool it is still important to have the best materials you can to capture what your mind perceives. Of course when you don't have your best you use what you have and you make it work.

A few years back I decided to look into the Fujifilm F30 for the times when I did not want to carry a DSLR or any of my film cameras. A great little camera, especially in low light, it has served it's purpose over and over again. In fact it has traveled (not with me, but my brother-in-law) to Afghanistan as well as Williamsburg and Boston. At the moment it is serving as one of my other sibling's main camera. In the meantime I became very aware of the work of Terry Richardson, enthralled by his use of point and shoot cameras for much of his fashion photography. The natural thing for me to do was research his methods and of course his equipment. That lead me to the Yashica T4, my pocketable (just barely) friend that is always with me loaded with various types of film from Kodachrome to super market Fuji 400. In fact my upcoming Exhibition has at least two images that I captured using the T4. As much as I love that camera, many times I do wish it were digital for not only the immediacy but the volume of images you can keep.

This brings me to the image posted, taken on a fine Tuesday morning at Assembly Point in Lake George. As soon as I stepped outside the door I saw in front of me a scene that would have made many of pictorialists jealous. I wanted to take that image in a way that would remain true to the pictorialist spirit. My blackberry has a camera, it is at best mediocre, however it can capture an image. To my delight it has a Sepia mode and when facing the sun the lens flares in much the way some of the old uncoated lenses used by those photographers. The result is soft, dreamy, the rays of the sun are imprinted on the image as well as the shimmering reflection on the water.
So on this day, for this moment, the blackberry captured what my mind had perceived. Does that mean I want to rely on this camera every time I am out? No a Nokia N95 or N85, any of the Sony Ericsson phones would serve me better. However did the blackberry do the job? Absolutely

Textures

Why would anyone want to add texture to a photograph? Besides the texture of the paper that the photo is printed upon or the texture of your subject featured in the photograph, why would there be a need for adding anything to the image? Some would argue that adding additional layers and textures is dishonest; your altering the image as a whole in order to make it something it's not.

The use of blending layers with images of various textures (old paper, fabrics, metals, glass, even negatives, and dusty viewfinders) have become quite the phenomenon for modern photographers. Layering one, two, even three images together to create something more than the original image. It cannot be designated as a montage because your not changing the actual subject matter rather you are editing the nature of it's environment. Almost as if you are viewing an image of an image; in my mind this technique is spawned from photographers wanting to recreate the look of old, withered, deteriorated photographs discovered in an old shoe box. The look, when done correctly, is something hard to describe but is nostalgic and sentimental... it tugs on the right heart strings. Honestly it is a new type of art, very accessible with a little patience and photoshop know-how. Though it can be very difficult to master; I myself have only begun to create respectable pieces.

The first example is a group of horses feeding that I had come across on the side of the road. I actually did not have my camera with me at the time and decided to turn around to capture that scene because of the subject, but also because of the amazing dusk light that was quickly escaping. When processing this image, I knew almost instantly that I would go further and add some sort of texture. The problem with the image was that much of the definition in the sky was lost due to the fact that I was shooting straight into what was left of the sun that evening. The sky was not blown out, however despite some dodging and burning I was still unable to recover the sky. What I lost in the sky I had gained back when adding a grunge texture that I believe was paper with ink unevenly rolled over it. The effect is almost as if someone wiped off a framed photo rescued from an earthly grave. The vignetting created by the texture also forces your eye straight to the curious horse lifting his head from his evening grain while the others contently continue to feed. When printed, the effect does not feel cheap, in fact it even temps you into trying to touch the texture to see if it is as gritty as it looks.

Honestly, it took me a while to convince myself that what I was doing was still photography. My natural tendency is to want an image to look as real as possible, not surreal. Photography for me is often documentation, even if there is extreme emotion it is still creating a document of that event and not so much creating additional emotions for the subject or viewer. Adding textures is a conscious attempt to evoke further reaction out of the viewer, whether it be to simply catch their eye or perhaps to enhance the image to connect with the viewer on various levels, you are purposely changing the image to engage the viewer, as opposed to allowing the subject matter to stand on it's own. For a photographer this is not only a creative decision but it is also an ethical one. This isn't even mixed media since you are blending images together, it is still a photograph, but one that has blurred the lines between photography and mixed media works.

The other example I have posted brings to mind the other reason I have gone further into this work: the ability to recreate what is slowly going away. Below is an image of a gumball machine. At first glance you would think this was a polaroid I took with my Model 250 camera loaded with type 669, but no. This again is a digital mash of texture, subject, and in this case a type of frame consisting of a 669 border. Polaroid film is no longer made and anything that is still being sold is just remaining stock. Fujifilm still produces their own version of polaroid peel-apart film: just as competent and almost as expensive. It is very difficult to reproduce the colors, the amazingly smooth tonal transitions of that film, however I like to think I can try. I added a canvas type texture to the image to give it a little more grit and imperfection that can often be found with polaroid film. Character is so much of what I love about film images, each film has a different look, different color pallete, different grain structure, and the various idiosyncracies that cause photographers to fall in love as well as grow mad with frustration. Digital is perfect everytime except when it isn't. The problem with imperfect digital is how ugly it can look and those times are the ones where I go find ways I can save the imperfection or at least give perfection some soul. Textures can enhance an already brilliant looking photo but can also save a mistake and turn it into something beautifully flawed. In the case of the gumball machine my biggest pet peeve of digital is the way cameras convey the color red. Often extremely vibrant: an out-of-control fire engine red with almost no subtlety. My favorite film, Kodachrome, has amazingly deep, saturated, yet mute reds. I have found that unless you nail the exposure perfectly with digital, the only way to control those reds without losing the pop of the photo is to add a layer. Preferably one with a texture that will slightly dampen the colors brightness without killing the saturation. Add the polaroid border for an added touch of nostalgia and you get a very palatable photograph.

I tend to use this technique sparingly as I still prefer my photography to stand on it's own right out of the camera. Photoshop layers can get out of control very easily. Photo montages, especially, can suffer the wrath of over abundant computer sterilization, and worse, pixellation. I still encourage any budding photographer to experiment, if they can, with these techniques. Once you see the various effects that textures can have on your images, you will see not only a change in your vision for your existing photos, but you will also begin to see future images in a different light: full of greater possiblities than the one that you captured on the spot. You will start to understand that photography is still just one medium and within that medium there is room to grow.

New Beginnings Are Relative

This image is on the surface a pile of LPs in a garage and yet they represent much more. On the face of it the collection is a mix of a huge number of albums from numerous people. At least seventy years of vinyl (or shellac for the 78s) bought for the music that is engraved into them. Think of the many reasons that one might want to own an Elton John LP or an older Count Basie 78 or the Star Wars soundtrack (I'm thinking of keeping it). You can imagine the radio being so influential in the distribution of these albums, judging by the scratches and pops, the hundreds or thousands of times the needle had been dropped into the dusty grooves. I am sure that some were purchased with a party in mind (no matter the decade), records are always desired as long as they contain plenty of tracks that will encourage spontaneous dancing. One of the boxes contains a more modern variety, beats and breaks for DJs ready to be mixed into something greater than the sum of its parts. The jazz records, some of my favorites, had to be purchased with freedom of thought in mind. Many of the LPs are from collections, mostly classical, probably purchased by an older couple looking to have all of their favorite pieces together in one small library. It is a pile of history, desire, escape, and love that has been discarded for space, money, contemporary technology. Yet, I was told today that three-quarters of it is worthless and should be thrown into a landfill.

To me, this image represents much more; a burden of gigantic proportions. To sum it up without a long story, I had a chance to get rid of this weight and was denied. Do I blame someone for not wanting to take all these records? No, not really though I am tremendously disappointed that I still have this volume of material. So hopefully in the coming weeks there will be generous record collectors or future record store owners that will gladly take these off my hands.

Why do I bring this up? This image illustrates my point from my last post, that images contain stories on so many levels for both the viewer, the photographer, and the subject. This image has great significance to me, it has hidden meaning to the former owners of the records, and yet it is just an image of stacked LPs.

I end with an image that is more superficial: beauty, color, and my own touch of art. This will lead into my next entry where I will be exploring the use and my love of textures. Where photo-collage can go horribly wrong, a photo with proper layers and textures can be as aesthetically pleasing as a painting. The questions are; Why would you want to give a photo texture? Should a photograph stand up on it's own? How far can you go with this kind of manipulation before you lose your photograph?