As I was wandering down 10th Avenue a couple of days ago, camera in hand, marveling at the amazing variety of shapes, colors and play of light I thought this is an artist’s guilty pleasure. I felt terribly lazy. I know I have a talented eye, but it is so easy to capture compositions and brilliant visuals in a matter of minutes compared to many 20th and 21st Century painters who struggled amd struggle for hours, days and even months to capture on canvas what an observant photographer can capture in a second.
Is time a factor in great art? And if not, why not? Picasso spit out paintings like a fecund rodent. Van Gogh produced something like 40 paintings in the last five minutes of his life–well–something like that. Other artists labor and struggle for months over one painting. The photographer is almost the Henry Ford Model T production line of work, especially with digital photography. Click. Click. Click. Delete. Click. Delete. Click, I actually find myself feeling guilty. I shouldn’t enjoy it so much and it should take much longer. This morning I was paid $1,000 plus a percentage for agreeing to post an online gallery with narration of 12 of my photographs in the Queer New York at Night series. Easiest and fastest $1,000 I’ve ever made. Guilt. And Jewish guilt which is the most refined vintage and vineyard of guilt, like a Vosne Romanee of guilt.
As I explored the leaks, rust, cracks and crumbling walls of urban decay along 10th Avenue, I imagined a leisurely afternoon in MOMA or the Guggenheim. On the street (without having to pay an admission fee or worry about closing hours or annoying kids) I found magnificent art made by erosion and decay in the walls, broken windows and fragments of otherwise dilapidated and abandoned and neglected warehouses, garages and factories. And of course wondrous grafitti left by “annoying kids” who are my foe in museums and my artists of the street. Context is everything.
Sadly, from an artist’s point of view, this is just another part of Manhattan undergoing gentrification. The warehouses and factories of the Chelsea stretch of 10th Avenue are being converted into homes, clubs, bars, shops, art galleries and restaurants. In a certain way–as I considered this inevitable transformation–I was filled with horror. My God, how much art was being destroyed? How much art was being defaced? It was as if a cleaning crew stormed MOMA and washed the paint off each canvas as if it were dirt rather than paint. I thought that one man’s urban decay is another man’s art gallery.
I was glad I had my camera and glad to be saving atleast some visual memory of what the restorers, renovators and developers were quickly destroying. And why wasn’t I thrilled to see urban decay swept away? Shouldn’t we all love a fresh coat of paint? Life and time leave a trail of beauty. Restorers, renovators, developers, cosmetic surgeons and cosmeticians are Philistines.
Something familiar about this work… Richard, I think we’ve been drinking the same stuff!
Surface color is indeed intoxicating. Judging from our work, we agree that maligned and ravaged surfaces are best. Perhaps because they provide the unexpected, a wild disorder at all scales right down to microscopic.
When you mention the photographer’s rapid capture compared with the painter’s task, were you thinking of representationalists depicting New York street scenes, or the abstract painters with their different agenda? Either way, I think there’s something gained and something lost, though it’s not so easy to pin down. What think ye painters?
In any case, speed is a strength of the photographic medium, and to revel in it is appropriate. We typically consume images at a rapid rate as well. Sometimes I find this satisfying and sometimes not. Can one frame images in a moment that can satisfy for a lifetime? Of course, but what fraction meet that criterion of success? Is that even the goal?
Richard, I’m not sure how long you’ve been making this sort of photograph. At this stage, do you feel you have developed any conscious themes or ideas that are guiding your work, or is it just all glorious?
I was having a conversation with a friend yesterday and he told me about a photographer (he didn’t remember the name) who builds intricate little cities from cardboard and other materials, then photographs them with a large format camera. At first glance, the images look like real cities, but upon closer inspection, it becomes apparent that they are carefully, although simply, constructed models.
I thought wow how amazing is that, but so much work to go into one photograph! And my friend responded with: “That’s why he’s in art galleries…he spends so much time on his work.”
In this photographer’s case, perhaps this is true, and more than likely rightfully so. But it brings up interesting ideas about time vs. the value of art. Is a ‘snap shot’ made on the street (think Henri Cartier-Bresson) worth less than painstakingly constructed scene made over days or weeks then photographed (think Jeff Wall)?
The age of digital has certainly revolutionized the way some photographers work, the materials are slightly different. But from my own experience, the hours spent agonizing over choices (which print, which angle, which subject) are the same. Before I would spend hours choosing a negative, then more hours in the darkroom, printing, adjusting times, re-printing…before I was only even slightly satisfied with the result.
Now that I made the switch to digital, my time spent on an image hasn’t changed much. I shoot more frames, so more images to choose from (lots of time agonizing over files) then there’s the process of post-processing, which is a lovely process which can take hours in the ‘digital darkroom’.
As far as your photographs here, Richard, I think they are lovely, and I’m happy that you are able to preserve these elements of beauty, even as the paint of gentrification washes them away.
Chantal,
Thomas Demand. Staging certainly continues to be a common topic for contemporary art. I saw his work at MOMA several years ago and enjoyed it while I was in the gallery but pretty much immediately forgot about it after I re-entered Richard’s World.
(I also saw his work at the Serpentine Gallery in London though we were distracted from the art because we were listening to the radio and learning that the sirens we were hearing outside were a response to the Terrorism.)
Richard,
Are these fine works hyper-real?
Steve: one of themes that drives and inspires me is accidental beauty, finding beauty where other see ruin or decay. I’m fascinated by that. It’s easy to see the beauty in the New York Skyline and Central Park landscapes, but for me the real New York City is in the details of the accidental beauty. Reflections in a dirty puddle of rain water, the footprint of a demolished wall, the trail of rusty water on concrete…
What is “hyper-real”?
Richard,
Enhanced?
I am referring to a pinkish glint.
D.,
This might be an interesting point to reference our discussion over Sunil’s last post about whether the artist should have as goal “to represent what he sees or believes to be real as closely as possible,” and what that means in practice.
In a certain scientific sense, Richard’s colors are all more strongly saturated than “real.” Regardless of how he thinks about that (which, like you, I’m interested in), it’s also true that people constantly claim that their “over”-saturated photos represent just what they saw, or at least just the impression they had at the time. Most cameras are made to produce this result by default because that’s what most people want and expect.
Steve,
I completely agree that Enhanced Realism is a terrific topic.
As a kid watching All In The Family, I remember asking my parents who and why were all of the “people” laughing so much and with such vigor? What was I missing? Perhaps because our Culture has only expanded further to DD or whatever, I find so much relief with a “real” chuckle.
D.,
How about giving us a post on the topic some time? Just a couple paragraphs and examples to start us out…
Steve,
Saturation. “Most cameras are made to produce this result by default because that’s what most people want and expect.” This astounds me!
Do you agree that there is a relevant difference between asking the viewer to appreciate the world around them as it is and appreciate the highly-saturated and cropped world around the artist?
D.,
Absolutely. But when it comes to the colors of the world around them, people are both unaware and reluctant to see “reality” as beautiful. They want even that sunset pumped up. I am generalizing here, but it’s something artists, photographers in particular, have to deal with to a greater or lesser degree, depending on audience. People relate to a photograph according to their own idea of “reality” — of course — rather than the record of a light sensor.
This issue predates digital, by the way; there was always an effort to create films to enhance saturation without giving up too much range in light intensity.
To be fair, looking at a photograph is not the same as looking at the world, and our perceptions are affected by the difference. In a non-trivial way, it may take greater color impact to get a similar perceptual effect from a print as from the real thing.
For whatever it’s worth, some of the photographs I take don’t give me the intensity of what I see and a couple of minutes of computer work corrects that and produces an image and colors that allow me to share with others what it is that I actually sense and enjoy. That gives me pleasure. About 50% of my photographs are “adjusted” and 50% are not.
Ahhh… Pleasure.
Knowing this, I view the work differently.
Man, just say the word “hyper-real” and I start drooling. Great discussion!
Richard,
Hyper-Real is a word (I’m not sure if he made it up or not) used extensively in the theories of French Post-Modern Philosopher Jean Baudrillard (RIP). The basic tenet is that our image saturated world has led to an existence that values the image of an object, event, person over the actual thing. His classic example is 9/11: for weeks and months afterward, we were subjected to the media images of the event, replayed over and over and over again. Those images became the reality for anyone who was not in plain sight on Manhattan. The simulacrum trumps reality.
So, I think that every act of creation is a hyper-real, in some way. We connect to things we will never touch, purely through their images. I myself feel a sort of communion with the streets of New York through these photos, though I’ve never seen it. I construct images and perceptions in my mind based on this visual input and that is my reality.
Photography has been both the bane and the boon for this era. We are stifled by the never-ending flow but we are also exposed to so much. Photography (especially digital) has enabled the replication of our perception in a near instantaneous manner. The question doesn’t seem to be whether or not this is a bad thing but rather, How will this transform our perception?
On the other point: Art has nothing to do with the time spent. It has everything to do with the reaction it garners.
Just my $0.02
Having read more closely, I think D. was referring to a different definition of “Hyper-Real”.
Baudrillard is dead, long live Baudrillard! Seriously, I think those ideas are very relevant here. As for what D. means, look for a post from him on this topic in the next few days.
Geoff and Steve,
You are right: my use of hyper-real is hyper-real.
HDR photography also aims to produce ‘hyper real’ images…
Richard,
The images are very well taken especially given the background writing that you have used to introduce us to the subject. I liked your quote when you say: “Restorers, renovators, developers, cosmetic surgeons and cosmeticians are Philistines”…
Sunil, Richard:
I remain curious about what you perceive as the difference betweeen enhanced photography and the various projects by the above “Philistines”?
The Philistines destroyed where enhanced photography titillates the senses if appropriately done.
Sunil.
I should have been more specific: several of the paintings that I have seen at your site are of models and you comment on their beauty and their form. Certainly much of what we see is the result of cosmetics and even surgery?
D:
I do use images of models for my paintings – and to a large extent I am fascinated by their beauty and form. To a larger extent, I also use them as appropriate vehicles to convey a certain implicit statement. I remember I used the image of a model once to show the pervasiveness of advertising and titled it “Buy Me, Bring Me, Take Me”. Yes, it was a model in a very classic fashion pose, but it did help get my message across.
Yes, I do agree that some of these models owe some of their physical characterizes to cosmetics and surgery and in doing that the surgeon or the make up artist may be destroying some of their ‘natural’ characterizes and thus may labeled Philistines – if that is what you wanted to imply.
But I do not necessarily become ‘Philistinic’ when I use a digitally enhanced photograph of the above model to convey a message (or use the same to create a painting that can titillate my viewers senses).
googled 4 urban decay with hdr and found your site – nice – i am doing spherical hdr of abandoned environments