To judge from the talks at the opening of a current group exhibit, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a landscape artist working in Montana must deal in some way with the huge volume of imagery and the stereotypical impressions people have of this state. When it comes to notions of what art should be, there may not be much difference between residents and visitors. The standard expectations seem to be of monumental mountainscapes, majestic mammals, or cowboy kitsch.
As a photographer working in black and white–already outside the norm–I am, depending on the photograph, taken to be either just like Ansel Adams or not at all like him. And after that it’s digital or film and do I manipulate the images?
Don’t get me wrong. The questions are not only valid, they’re important ones that I’ve grappled with in my work, as have many others. And I actually enjoy responding to them if I’m talking to someone interested and open-minded. Still, it’s extraordinarily refreshing to discuss with someone free of the usual preconceptions.
Montana and landscape are hardly unique in this regard. What do you have to deal with, either in creating or presenting your art? Is it generally a good or a bad experience for you?
When I was flailing around in regional theater and off-off-off-Broadway as a stage manager, the main questions were “What’s that?” and “Do you know any stars?” The answers were “I co-ordinate things backstage” and “no” (if I felt the questioner was sincerely interested in me or in the craft of backstage) or “yes”(if I wanted to shut down the conversation). When writing, the main question was always “How long did it take you to do that?”
I couldn’t say, though, that I thought or think of it as something to “deal with,” it just goes with the territory. The run-of-the-mill questions about work are much less onerous than some of the imagined-to-to-be-witty things I’m asked because of my red hair.
Having inspected photographs sold in local galleries, I decided to stay away from gorgeous colorful sunsets over Lake Michigan and Ansel Adam type drama.
Steve, what am I looking at in the image here?
Melanie,
I thought the most-asked question for writers was, “Where do you get your ideas?” Any favorite retorts to that one?
Birgit,
The photograph, made with the camera horizontal, shows a snow bank against a rock outcropping I hiked to in the Absaroka mountains. The scalloped depressions on the snow are called sun cups; they form on exposed snow remaining into midsummer.
“here and there”
But the best known thing I’ve written is about death and grieving, so it’s pretty obvious where that idea came from.
Wrongful Death
Yes. It pops up in the most unexpected places.
Steve:
Aside from what you and a small group of others see on e-mail and the internet, I show my work very sparsely. A family friend comes by and can be counted upon to give me good advice.
My t-shirts are another matter as folks wear them out and wear them out.
I feel that all artists are pigeonholed in one way or another. Once you produce something of worth people want to buy into that. I find taht if you enjoy what you are producing you will enjoy the results whatever they may be.
I seem to evoke responses everywhere, even from knowledgeable and sympathetic artists. However, it often isn’t the expected: sometimes it’s “What in god’s name got into you?” And sometimes it’s “the perspective isn’t quite right, is it?”
However, when I’m dealing with textile art, particularly that which is quilted, inevitably the question is “how long did that take you?” I have flip and flipper answers that I try to suppress.
On my last road trip I found a tiny way around the inevitable silences and banalities that occur when people approach me while I”m painting. Kids often come up and watch me paint and say, because they have been well-trained by teachers and parents, “That’s good.” I have sometimes responded, after the “thanks,” with “are you an artist?” Generally they draw back and look abashed. But this time, I went on to explain that generally people who look at my paintings have done some painting or drawing themselves, just as people who fish like to approach fishermen and people who sing, sit close to the jazz singers.
The kid responded to this gambit by opening up and telling me a bit about his own drawing. I was pleased, because I often get shy onlookers who don’t know how to continue the conversation, but love to be asked about their own art endeavors.
I think as a whole, Americans are very shy about visual art and so their responses are either way off the mark or banal — or both. I’ll grant you, though, that when I see some of the work here on A&P I too am rendered either speechless or forced into banalities. Altogether American, I guess.
Thats not a good question. Art is supposed to be about asking good questions, not right ones. Those change with out knowledge of the world and our experiences of it.
But you cannot just create a style. It evolves, as one works and finds what works for you. As you work, the questions will come up, follow them, and more will follow, if you are progessing.
How old are you? How long have you been doing photography? I started at 19 and finished at 23, as I found what I was creating was far closer to Modern Art than contemporary photography. I won every college contest I entered, my teachers made me, and was at least an equal of Brett Weston who was my contemporary at the time, I was 23, he 70+, around 1980.
But part of my style evolved because I found the right place to photograph, one that had the layers and tones and timlessness I needed, as photography is not purely creative, we need an actual motif, something to enhance and interpret. I found it, and took two years to get where I needed to be. Then quit, as I wanted to be free of interpretation and ready to create using color.
You need to get out and find places that you feel right in, where it evokes your soul, where the material around you asks you to be discvoered, interpreted, changed, improvised with. As a photographer that is the only way, according to your own inner temperament and skills. Nothing comes from nothing. Keep on shooting, searching, developing, and maybe you will just have to move if Montana is not the place for you. I found my Montana, de Oro.
dfimagery.com
I write at artnewsblog.com
Donald, I particularly love image 5 of 7 of the nature in color series
Glad you like it, thanks, but they are from 26-29 years ago. My paintings are often very large, upto 10′, and look far different in person. Several were not yet completed when I photographed them.
I have sold several paintings shown, usually smaller ones upto 5′, difficult to unload the big ones. And black and white photos, unfortunately, I did not take color photgraphy seriously at the time. All color only 35mm. Scanned all my sheet BW film, and as I work using a Lightjet, the digital printer on Fuji paper is far superior in tonality and detail than my old D2 condensor on Oriental paper. Even Ansel before he died, said digital prints were far more consistent and better detailed and tonality than oldschool. Just wont last as long, but print up to 24 x 30 and is perfect. Just about life size of my rocks and kelp, sometimes larger.
Have found some excellent shots now when I go back to Montana de Oro, I see differently now. Takes training the eye to seeing what you need to create with. No one would have seen the black and white shots, they are small areas in large formations of layers rocks, changing constantly as the seas erodes the land. Hadnt been there in over twenty years, cant even get down the cliffs in two spots I used to go, or jsut may be too old to do what I did as an athletic 20 year old.
Dont have most of my best shots on the site, using it to try and sell so kinda softer than what my best work is. Have a show of BWs at LA Artcore next year, but I am in attack mode for art as a whle, not really photography. Been publishing articles you can see if you google me. Art is out of hand, decadent and irrelevant to people. No one cares, and for a reason. Gotta be absurd to get attention.
Because it asks stupid questions. Ones not relevant to lfie, to come up wiht in sterile art school environments, jokes to us who lead real lives, Was out of art for 12 years raising a family, just now getting back in, and even worse than it had been. Decadent.
Things are changing, and the art world is missing it. Look around, the era of cheap commodoties, food, fuel, toys is over. We must get back to reality. To arts purpose. Gauguins questions. Who are we? Where do we come rom? Where are we going? Art defines us as a people, now with modern art, as a species. It seeks for god, whatever that is to you. Nature photography has that inherantly, what is more godly than waterfalls and mountains? But leaves man out of it, as people photos take out nature. it must reveal what we know of the world, and our place in it.
Life and art are NOT subjective, that is used as a cover for bad art. Prices and current fads are, but what lasts, is quite objective. To discover our purpose in life. That which is truest to this, is the greatest and lasts. That is our job as artists, as others have theres in other fields. How we work to evolved and get there reveals that purpose, to greater or lesser degree.
Donald,
I didn’t think of the question as a basis for art, but it does seem to relate to artistic development, including yours, inasmuch as the relation of your own work to the Westons’ black and white was something you wanted to free yourself from. I quite agree with your thoughts on how one develops a style. Though about your age, I have only photographed “seriously” for three years, and certainly have a ways to go.
Unfortunately, I don’t seem able to view the paintings on your web site (using Firefox on Vista). But I enjoyed the photos.
June,
Nice story about the boy. Yes, people are a bit shy and have a limited number of opening gambits when they meet an artist in the wild. I usually get “Any good birds today?” or “Great day for pictures!” The first is often worth pursuing, as I can learn about birds that way. I was too nonplussed to follow up on “What ISO are you using?”