11/15/11 Leica #8 Blow Up
From post #8 on the Leica Blog.
This entry was written by , posted on November 15, 2011 at 1:24 pm, filed under Cinema, Industry, Leica Project, Street and tagged Fetish, Folsom Street Fair, San Francisco, Sex, Street. Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.
10/27/11 Leica #7
“Is photography rewiring my brain, my memory? Is it slowly removing me from reality? As I grow as an artist, I am confronted by the fact that the photographer I am is based on the inability to accept, on the need to immortalize life as I see it and as I wish it to be. So I question, is this the nature of photography or photographer?”
Post #7, Communicating the Incommunicable, Leica Blog
This entry was written by , posted on October 27, 2011 at 10:19 am, filed under Leica Project, Street, Writing and tagged Leica M9, Memory. Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.
7/21/11 Leica: Refreshed and Inspired
This post is the 5th in a series for the Leica Blog:
In late May I drove from San Francisco to Charlottesville to attend the LOOK3 Festival of the Photograph. LOOK3, which is the festival that offered an award that began my relationship with Leica, is probably the most intimate and intense photo festival in America (For example, this year they coordinated the rare event of Sally Mann interviewing Nan Goldin on stage). Prior to the festival, Leica placed me in a five-day workshop with Magnum photographer Christopher Anderson, who has been a long time inspiration to most younger photographers I know, including myself. My time with Chris and the rest of the class turned out to be a wonderful, inspiring experience. I absorbed every idea, detail and feeling I could during the workshop. By the time I left I was mentally and physically exhausted, but creatively rejuvenated. I’m still letting the advice and insights I gathered during the workshop and festival settle where they need, but in short, my time with Chris and all the other talented and inspiring people at the festival restored some of my excitement and faith in the power of photography.
Unexpectedly, on my way to LOOK3, I was asked by Leica if I would be interested in going to Paris to attend the Antoine D’Agata Magnum workshop, Leica M9-P announcement party and Magnum partnership announcement and other Magnum festivities. I thought the email was either a mistake or sent to the wrong person. Lucky for me it wasn’t. I spent eight days in Paris and needless to say, I had a wonderful time and met a lot of photographers that inspired me and helped me rearrange some ideas. And again, my time with Antoine D’Agata, although brief, gave me even more insight on the medium and my place in it.
After the past month I feel really refreshed and inspired about the power of photography and my future with it. Which is an ironic statement considering its contrast with the feelings of my last blog post. I wouldn’t disagree with anything I’ve written in the past, but the clarity and understanding I have on using the role of photography as a personal tool instead of a self-imposed obstacle in my life have greatly improved. I’m still in a state of processing, so a few pictures will have to do for now. I will say though, that I’m incredibly grateful to Leica for the opportunities and experiences I’ve had over the past month. What I’ve realized is likely to shape the next several years of my photographic and filmmaking endeavors.
This entry was written by , posted on July 21, 2011 at 11:50 pm, filed under Industry, Leica Project, Personal, Street, Travels and tagged Antoine D'Agata, Charlottesville, Chris Anderson, Leica M9, LOOK3, Magnum, Paris, Workshops. Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.
5/20/11 SOMA Fire
Earlier in the month, after helping Ross Mantle set-up the gallery show he was in town for, the two of us were walking to dinner when we came across a large 48-unit building fire in SOMA. Ross was a little more reluctant than I about going to the site and taking pictures. Neither of us have any interest in “spot news” but we were both curious about what was happening. So we went to the fire and after a few minutes, standing in a street filled with smoke, we realized it was a serious situation. I had just started shooting when the camera I was using completely malfunctioned. I was pissed. Of all the times to have a camera fail me, why does it have to be when I’m witnessing such a dramatic scenario unravel.
As frustrated as I was, it was a moment of realization that in hindsight, was more valuable than the photos I missed. If I had been alone I would have felt a sense of failure, that I had lost something important. But because Ross was there, photographing (with his $100 P&S), it was okay because the event, the memory, the trauma, the tragedy, the sudden re-arrangement of life – it wasn’t disappearing into the ether, it was being recorded by someone whose vision I trust.
Finally, after deleting all the photos I had on my card and resetting everything, the camera started working and I was able to photograph the later part of our experience. A crowd had formed of a hundred or more people. Some who had lived in the building were in shock as they watched their home and all their possessions burn down. Some were simply curious or fascinated by the spectacle of it. There was even a group of guys playing basketball that seemed completely unaware of the situation. I wondered how I, as a photographer, fit into the drama. Was I like the firemen, trying to help and make things better. Was I a spectator? or was I just some kid playing a game with a camera, disassociated from what was happening?
The whole experience made me, once again, criticize why we do what we do. I know that at times in my life, I have completely exploited situations and people for the advancement of my vision and chronicled perspective. I’ve convinced myself mentally that I really cared for people when all I really wanted was to photograph them and not get too involved. That was what going to college for photojournalism felt like to me, being forced to care on a weekly basis. Perhaps I lack the empathy that others have, or that I’m not meant to be a documentary photographer. Or maybe I just see the big picture differently. Since my foray into social documentary work, I’ve yet to feel comfortable working in the genre again. The only way documentary photography makes sense to me is if I document something that I am living through, something I’m experiencing first hand, or something that I really believe in. This is why I’ve turned most my attention to street photography. I’m allowed to be anonymous or confrontational, honest or slanted, spontaneous or deliberate. I’m allowed to stay inside of my own head and not be discounted for it.
The fire reminded me of these issues and the the ones surrounding voyeurism and the “taking” of photographs. It reminded me of the many roles photography can play in a person’s life. It reminded me that I have a vision and statement to make, and that, really, I am taking pictures for myself. I believe the very act of photography is one of theft. And after a lifetime of stolen pictures, I am hoping I will have something to give back. Something that could make a difference; Or not. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that I am being honest with myself, my vision, my philosophy. Photography gives me the ability to communicate why I’m not losing my sense of wonder and passion for the life that unfolds around me. And the times I do lose my excitement, it helps me find it again. I’ve learned that photography came into my life as a personal necessity, and when it’s not that way, it slowly loses its original value.
“I told her that I was a pervert, voyeur, and flasher all rolled into one photographic monster, but that I felt close to the people in the Subway.”
-Bruce Davidson, Subway
“Tough meant it was an uncompromising image, something that came from your gut, out of instinct, raw, of the moment, something that couldn’t be described in any other way. So it was tough. Tough to like, tough to see, tough to make, tough to understand. The tougher they were the more beautiful they became.”
-Joel Meyerowitz
“Some seem to think my work is drawn from an expression of horror, which has never really concerned me. Pleasure is impossible to define. But I feel horror occupies much the same territory. But you see, I’m optimistic by nature. I’m optimistic about nothing.”
-Francis Bacon, Love is the Devil
This entry was written by , posted on May 20, 2011 at 11:34 am, filed under Leica Project, Personal, Street, Writing. Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.
5/1/11 Libya in SF
This entry was written by , posted on May 1, 2011 at 12:10 pm, filed under Street. Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.
4/29/11 Untitled 106
This entry was written by , posted on April 29, 2011 at 12:07 pm, filed under Street and tagged San Francisco, Street. Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink and follow any comments with the RSS feed for this post.
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