Moving through space and time.

Barton Creek.

Self awareness is an interesting proposition. I've been writing this blog for about four years now and it somewhat constitutes a daily journal for me. While most people come along for the ride to read about the equipment, looking backwards, the most valuable function for me is a reflection of my ever changing state of mind and spirit as I move through familiar spaces. My other surprise is the extent to which a written record also shows me how we move through time.

When I started my journey in photography oh so many years ago I was like a guest at a Bacchanalian feast. I was hungry to try everything and I was mesmerized by the songs of many older practitioners who held sway and tried to hand down traditions and myths about the undertaking of photography, and of being an artist.

Having worked with huge lights and eight by ten inch view cameras, shooting an indiscriminate catalog of subjects, I can see over the decades a paring down, not necessarily of the equipment but of the things I like to shoot. The paring down of equipment is a related process of attrition and transformation. Like flowing along with the current in a stream.

So, what does my four years of blogging tell me about equipment? For the most part I would have saved an enormous amount of time and money with no real impact on the quality of my images if I had just kept the original Nikon D2X that I worked with back in 2006 and the collection of lenses I had at that time. I've worked with a number of cameras since then, most with higher megapixel counts and supposedly better performance but my style of shooting followed a different path than what the designers of the newer cameras seemed to envision. 

I keep using all these machines at their lowest ISOs for my serious work because my subjects are rarely moving around frenetically and I like controlling the light. With this in mind the image quality performance of the D2x was always just fine. The camera and sensor designers seemed hell bent on making high ISO performance the sine qua non of camera progress.  Just yesterday I shot some interiors at a salon/spa. While I could have used the Sony a99 at 3200 ISO I was using a tripod (gotta keep that horizon level...) and it was just as easy to use ISO 100. 

My relentless buying and selling of cameras of course unmasks a basic lack of self confidence in my own vision. That's why we all keep running to the store. We hope that someone will come up with a piece of technology that, in itself, will be so profoundly good that it will mask whatever our self-perceived creative weaknesses are. We continually hope that there's a magic lens which we can use to make our images sing in a different way. In the end we've spent $500 or $5,000 for a new magic lens only to come back to the realization that we've been taken once again....by our own psychological frailties. 

When I look back farther I can see that a camera like the Fuji S5 was a wonderful camera and made very pretty files of people's faces.  But I believed the hype about more megapixels and rushed to buy the next dose.  It turned out to be the ten megapixel Nikon D200 which is the worst digital camera I have ever owned. Especially for portraits... But boy how I tried to believe in it. Only to dump it as quick as I could for those two additional megapixels in the D2x. 

Reading through the blog shows me the stop and start nature of my conviction to logic followed by my surrender to advertising fueled desire. I can read the more thoughtful blog entries and see that I knew with extreme clarity that the cameras were largely indifferent to the process at large. They were basically as interchangeable as mid level SUV's or smart phones. But our desire to have them reveal some inner magic seems (at least in my case) to be inescapable.

What else have I learned? How about: Light is light. Whether it's expensive light or cheap light it's still just light. I've been interested in LEDs but I'd say that part of my interest, beyond a curiosity about new technologies, has always been centered around finding a style that I could call my own. The LEDs represented a differentiation from the mainstream. A way of being special. But in the end they are just lights that don't flash. Interchangeable with other lights that don't flash. Yes, there are attributes and detractions to every type of light but the lure of the new in lighting is just like the lure of this year's smart phone compared to the one you bought six months ago. Faster? Sure. Slimmer? Sure. But are your conversations any more interesting? Have your texts turned eloquent? Probably not. Probably no more than buying a D800 made all your photographs interesting and special.

That brings us to personal growth and I don't know how you measure that and whether the kind of growth most people talk about is really any better than the growth of one's waistline or that mole on your shoulder. I think what most people call "spiritual growth" is just a growing acceptance of the inevitable made a little bit more palatable by the idea that there's some grand plan. Surrender? A willingness to accept a convenience premise? Real mystical stuff that I don't get?

Reading through the blog shows me that I've moved from a point in my career where I thought I knew everything to a point where every day seems like a brand new invention of photography. Especially the business side of the whole deal. At some point I realized that I'd gotten really good at producing stuff that people weren't buying anymore. You can be angry or frustrated or fearful about the market or culture shifting away from your own competencies but if you depend on what you shoot to trade for what you eat you need to move past any emotional attachment to the way we used to do stuff and pay attention to what works now.

This doesn't necessarily mean a wholesale "walk away" from your style, your point of view or shooting what you enjoy but, it sure means that you might need to change the way you bill, the way you charge, the way you shoot and how you diversify. The thread that should run through everything though should be to honestly have fun with your work. You don't have to love everything but you sure have to like the process. But to fall back in love with the process you have to yield to the idea that everything changes. It's always tough to stomach that change must include me...

How does this work in real life? Work is more fragmented. There are many fewer days of continuous shooting and more small, intense work periods. One CEO portrait done at speed versus a cattle call of the senior staff. The work is looser and less formal. The (self-imposed) technical restrictions on what we have to shoot with have evaporated. Seriously, if you could get the best image of a subject with a cell phone as opposed to a traditional camera I have not doubt that it would be workable and acceptable. Not in every circle but in many.

Everything feels more collaborative now. We're not silo'ed by our expertise as we once were and we're not always driving the train. It's more of a shared perspective. I can see that over time, in my posts. And when I look at my work I see change everywhere. We now light to look unlit. We pose to look un-posed and we post process to make our technical competence yield to a more organic or even photo-primitive look.

It's easy for people who don't make their living through photography to say that they/we don't have to change and we should (moral or ethical imperative) stick to our guns and do what we like but that totally disregards the role that clients play in the commercial dance. They taste wide and far and they taste in the company of their peers. There are trends and there are styles. Just as with food clients get to pick and choose from a rich visual menu. We might personally like pot roast but it might be an increasingly hard sell to a generation of kale eaters.

As I've diversified and re-calibrated my business has recovered from the dark days of 2009 and 2010. Part of the recovery is the reawakening of the national economy but part of the recovery is the re-tooling that I've done to make the product mix work. A re-invention.

But when I look hard and read between all of the thousands of lines I've written I do see one trend that makes me sad. The easier it becomes to take a photograph the harder it becomes to really enjoy photographs. To really like photographs. The ubiquity of images and the lack of friction in their delivery takes away any pleasure of discovery. The instant copying of original work and techniques dilutes the relative value of the originals. We, collectively, have become a giant, automated machine like one of the robotic vacuum cleaners. Our machine rolls through the world at all hours, seconds and minutes snapping disseminating, referencing and feeding back images of everything and everyone without pause and without filtration. We have, in essence, become a million monkeys typing at a million typewriters for a million years. But with a faster feedback loop and more feeder bars (feedback sources) to give us treats for micro-completions.

We've almost gone completely from something that felt handmade to something that reeks of mass production.

There are now only a handful of masters and then there's the rest of us. It's part of the change. I'm not sure 50+ year old artists make big changes in the landscape or even their own landscape. Most ride on their laurels or gracefully retire. It should be interesting to see how the next complete inventory turn of photographers re-invents what they do. I hope we still recognize it as photography.

My goals have changed over the last four years. In the beginning, with the blog, I wanted to comment on the "infidels" of new photography (iPhoners, Instagrammers, etc.) and how wrong they were. Then I commented on the over-share issues wherein people were so enamored of their own buzz or seeing their work somewhere that they were turning the conventional rules of commerce upside down for no discernible gain. Then I wanted to talk about the camera revolution and the working evolution that was driving m4:3 and smaller form factors. In each case I was either identifying and obvious trend or trying to push back against the tide.

Now I'm really only interested in the anthropology and cultural contexts of image making. I'm interested in the idea that there won't be a pervasive style anymore but an incoherent mass of individual threads. Some will be obvious homages or thefts and some will be very banal but some threads will be like variations on core themes that we play over and over again. And it's the variations on essential themes that I'm interested in. Especially as they related to the depiction of beauty.

Oh well, I just had a few minutes and I thought I'd share a few more thoughts. Now it's time to walk the dog and do some laundry. Oh, and to unload the dishwasher. Mindful drudgery.

Why the image of Barton Creek? I've always been publicly derisive about landscape photography. It's a prejudice of mine. But in spite of my critical arrogance I've found myself shooting more and more intentional landscapes. Fodder for a future blog....


Brad Burnham said...

As a long time reader, these are the posts like this are what I enjoy most. Thanks for your honest writing.

Makes me think about what I shoot and why. Although answering that is, like measuring personal growth, difficult.

Kirk Tuck said...

Thanks Brad. Writing about equipment is fun. And it gives me stuff to link to but, this is what I'm usually interested in talking about. How do we change? What does it look like? How do we grow? Where are we headed. "A life unexamined...."

Anders C. Madsen said...

"The easier it becomes to take a photograph the harder it becomes to really enjoy photographs."

I'm not sure I agree with this. Well, I understand what you mean about the photography being a much less tangible product and you are right that taking a photograph is in many cases a lot easier - I just don't necessarily think that taking a GOOD photograph has become easier. I'm not talking about the technical aspect, I'm taling about the lighting, the mood, the expression - all the things that stays the same regardless of the medium used to capture the image, and all the things that are still as challenging and tricky to get right as they were in bygone days.

I'm still very much an amateur but I have at least developed so far that I know that all that talk from the pros about equipment that does not matter is actually true. A technically perfect photograph in stunning hi-res of a poorly lit subject with a disinterested expression is easy to make, but that still only counts as a lousy substitute for the real thing, with flattering light and high spirits and an expression that burns through the monitor or paper or however the photograph is displayed. I'm sure that for an experienced photographer achieving this most of the time is easier than it was, but that does not devaluate the impact a good photograph still has on the people looking at it.

I took some pictures at a photo-meetup a couple of weeks ago and shared my results with the models as I finished editing my selects over the previous weekend, and one of the images was of a young model in a red dress and some pretty fancy spiked shoes standing in a hall at the old castle we were shooting at. I was not really sure that it belonged with my selects - the image was a teeny bit unsharp and the composition was slightly off but I still decided to finish it and let the model have it, even though it would rank somewhere at the bottom on the list of images I sent to her.

She sent me a message yesterday and wanted to know if it was OK with me that she had this image made into a poster because she had never had an image taken that she liked so much and she wanted it on her wall.

What I am trying to say is that after a while, being behind the camera makes it easy to get hung up on technical details and forget the actual, real impact that our images may have on others, and while the process of creating those images may seem easier and easier to us, it still requires a way of capturing emotion and memories that is a mystery to many outside the realm of serious photography. Technically , things are easier, yes, but I don't think freezing real emotion and spirit in a moment in time will ever be "easy" to a point where the magic disappears.

Kirk Tuck said...

I'm trying to figure out how to say what I really mean. I guess it would be more like, "once I learned the trick of getting someone to look beautiful and could do it repeatedly the initial magic of striving to get there and sporadically getting close and the thrill of actually nailing the image gets diluted through repetition just as eating a fabulous dessert repeatedly would lose its glamour." More so if you looked around and found many people approaching the same subject in the same manner with nearly the same results. It's never easy to connect but because of the reach of the sheer amount of images we see more of the same all the time. Not just the same bad stuff but the same good stuff as well. And it dilutes itself as surely as anything else. But that is just my opinion and is no more or less valid than yours.

Dave Jenkins said...

"We now light to look unlit. We pose to look un-posed"

I was doing this in the 1970s. My wife says I have spent my career being ahead of my time in my market. This may offer some ego satisfaction, but hasn't done much for my bank balance.

"Having worked with huge lights and eight by ten inch view cameras, shooting an indiscriminate catalog of subjects, I can see over the decades a paring down, not necessarily of the equipment but of the things I like to shoot."

Been there, done that. In fact, I began with hot lights. I couldn't agree more.

"There are now only a handful of masters"

Worse, I don't think we know who the masters are any more. It takes time to sort out things like that. Before 2000, we pretty well knew who the masters were. Now, not so much. Some months ago you wrote that many of the new photographers who rode in on the digital wave were from engineering, computer, and other such technical backgrounds. I find a shocking degree of ignorance of the history of photography and the masters of the art among today's photographers who have only or mostly digital experience.

Patrick Dodds said...

Thanks for this thought provoking post Kirk.

Bold Photography said...

Kirk - a wonderful introspective over time and through the blog's various periods. You wrote a while ago about the 'why' of your portraiture. It may be time to revisit that post (posts?).

I try to learn from your postings, and would like to believe that it's postings like this that are the "why" when I go on photography retreats that focus on the mind and mindset of photography, and not on the equipment.

Kirk Tuck said...

I like the idea of retreats. Just being somewhere and not thinking is a positive exercise. Quite different from workshops which are instructor centric.

Carlo Santin said...

Around Christmas my beloved Nikon D50 finally gave up the ghost (a focusing issue), and I've been scrambling trying to find a replacement, with no luck. I've looked at everything, with the same realization for each and every possibility: that $1500 camera is not going to improve my photographs one little bit, it's just money out of my pocket. 24 megapixels will not give me better photographs than the 6 megapixel ones I've taken for how many years now. Lots of nice cameras out there, just not any that will make me better, and I find that unsettling.

So what I've done, for now at least, is turn to the gear I already have, and that gear happens to be 35 and 120 film. I haven't taken a digital photograph since about mid-December.

I've noticed two things. One, I am shooting far fewer frames and I find that to be a good thing. I think a whole lot more about what I am doing and why I am shooting, rather than just grabbing the digital camera. Often, perhaps more often than not, the shot isn't there and it isn't worth committing to 120 (I only get 12 per roll with my TLR). Then I think, why isn't the shot there? Is it my own shortcoming as a photographer, my inability to see? Or am I really seeing properly for the first time, whereas in the past I simply would have clicked that digital shutter.

The second thing I've noticed is that I'm working harder to get those fewer images, and that's a good thing as well. I've learned to process my own b/w film, so I'm working the entire process, from trying to see the shot to developing it. A bad shot is a dollar, literally, out of my pocket. I'm paying attention every step of the way. With digital it's easier not to. I learned that it's important to work hard for a good photograph, that good things never come easily, and they shouldn't. Good comes out of effort, from a certain amount of friction, from struggling for it; not from Instagramming it. I think this applies to all creative undertakings. It's not supposed to come easy and there is no machine that can make it so, nor should there be.

I'm not some film snob and I stopped comparing film to digital a long time ago. This is just where I'm at right now. I think there are great gifts the old technology can give us. I really like the results I'm getting at the moment and I feel I've learned something important. Perhaps at some point I'll get fed up with the amount of work involved shooting film and return to the convenience and immediacy of digital, but at the moment I don't miss it.

Tim Auger said...

'The easier it becomes to take a photograph the harder it becomes to really enjoy photographs.'

Maybe 'appreciate' would be a better word than 'enjoy' - with experience your response is less likely to be artless and spontaneous, more likely to be respectful. If you have lost your ability to be uncritical, is this a bad thing?

Jacques said...

I know the feeling... That's why I teach (I'm not in photography though)! While teaching you pass your experience, or knowledge, or whatever you gathered through all those years... And in return you get those weird questions, those surprisingly quick answers, often "not so good", but incredibly fresh. It gives you another viewpoint, it forces you to find new ways, it can even be fun...!

So, how about starting some courses for kids (that's where the true ingenuity is, not with the older "blasé" sort)?

Anonymous said...

The Digital Tsunami is The Kinderdigi Borg. I will not be assimilated!

Let them feed on themselves.


Kirk Tuck said...

I don't enjoy the process of teaching. I do love working on video projects with my son. He's 17 and highly disciplined, understands the mechanics and structure of film and has high standards. In that regard it becomes a two way street. Much more rewarding since I get to learn lots of new stuff. Where we meet is in the arena of standards.

hbernstein said...

Landscapes, huh?

I welcome you to the dark side.

Jim said...

I'm one of those "older" photographers, having been at it for over half a century. Like Anders, I'm not sure good photos have been devalued but there are two lamentable trends; first is that with the avalanche of photos out there the "good" photographs have a tendency to get lost in the glut. The second is that with everyone putting out everything on the Internet and all their "friends" (another word with a changed meaning) gushing superlative compliments, most people never study images long enough to learn what a really good photo looks like even if they stumble across one. Sadly the "Fine Art" community encourages this by promoting work that by any traditional standard is poor if not bad. At least I have the luxury of shooting primarily for myself. You have my sympathy Kirk. I would not enjoy chasing trend while trying to maintain my integrity. FWIW You appear to do it well but I can see why/how it would lead to such bouts of introspection. BTW I shoot landscapes. People enjoy them, they tend to look at them longer, more deeply and the notion of what makes a good landscape photo hasn't changed much compared to the frenetic human world.

Huw Morgan said...

This is a very thought-provoking article. Whenever I get camera envy, I force myself to go into the studio and produce a matted print. Time slows down, I focus on selecting just one image to work on. I spend a fair amount of time in Lightroom and Photoshop getting the exposure and crop just right. This involves several draft prints. Then, I put in the larger sheet and press the print button. After that, comes the matting, with the joy of having to measure precisely, cut the matte accurately and mount the print without screwing anything up. Then comes the magic moment of admiring the matted print in good light and enjoying that blend of technology and artistry that comes together in a good print.

Here's the beauty of this process. It keeps you focused on what's important - the production of photography as art. AND, it draws your attention to the rather limited role played by the camera and lens. When I troll for a good image to print, I often go back 5 or 6 years. I NEVER look at the camera/lens combo when choosing an image to print. Sometimes, just for fun, I'll select some matted prints from a variety of cameras and then see if I can detect any difference between a print done with an old Canon 20d and a Sony NEX or Fuji X100. For the medium-sized (18x12) prints that I usually produce, I just cannot tell the difference.

When money is burning a hole in your pocket and the lure of the next shiny new thing is niggling at your brain, it is often best to ask the question: will this new thing help me to make better prints? Sometimes, the answer is yes. For example, my Sony Nex-7 makes it easier for me to take a camera along for the ride and I get images that I would have otherwise missed. Most of the time, the answer is no. A Canon 5dmkIII is not going to offer any real advantages over my 5dmkII when it comes to making prints. I can breathe a big sigh of relief and ignore that siren song.

While we are inundated with photos on the Internet (the million monkeys typing), there are still relatively few people who are actually making prints. I sell my work at art shows and fairs and there are usually just two or three photographers selling their wares among the painters and sculptors. This has not changed in five years. Fortunately, people still like to decorate their houses with artwork, so there is a steady market for good quality prints.

Anonymous said...

It's great that you're printing. Web publishing and before it MTV are two big factors driving public taste in art.

"Area Woman Finally Uploads All 12 Million Pictures Of Her Vacation To Europe On Facebook"


Onion = humor


Anonymous said...

Interesting read, a lot to think about. Thanks Kirk. As a simple amateur (but serious lover of photography) I do not think a mew gear will help me to make better photo. And new gear means not only an investment in money but also in time, the new digital cameras have so many menu options and or personalization that you'll take months before having the correct control on it. But when I meet other creative people, not necessary photographer and I can discuss project with them, exchange ideas or verify how they evaluate my work, better what they see in my work than I'm sure I get something. An idea or a challenge but an opportunity to improve the result of my photography. At least try to...

Anonymous said...

More pot roast!

Anders C. Madsen said...

D'oh - sorry for being so dense! I get your point now and while I'm not there yet (probably still too much of a gung-ho, yeehaw amateur in me), I can definitely see where you are coming from. I think I maybe have a better understanding for the desire to go back to film that you have expressed here on the blog on several occasions now - it's really not about going back into the past as much as it is about going back to something that was actually fun at the time, isn't it?

Frank Grygier said...

Not to temp you or anything: http://www.keh.com/camera/Nikon-Digital-Camera-Bodies/1/sku-DN029991100610?r=FE

Anonymous said...

Kirk, WRT 'Moving through space and time', we might all find this article interesting: "The Architecture of a New Landscape" by Eric Meola.


Mark Davidson said...

The real joy is in solving the problem and rejoicing in the result. Once done it does lose its spice.

Mark Davidson said...

Great post.

I have stopped buying cameras for the time being because I just can't make the business case for doing so.
As to your comment about buying a new camera that would somehow magically transform your work....it would, unfortunately, transform everyone else's.

Andreas Fougner said...

Great article!

The charm of novelty is a powerful thing. Once we master something it gets boring, because we strive to know more all the time. This is why I envy children and beginners in different areas. They can still have fun!

I almost feel that my fun in photography goes away from time to time. Because I know how to take a picture and I know about the technical stuff. What I haven't mastered is taking great pictures.

This is what we should focus on, not gear. I am a gear junkie myself and I struggle so hard not to empty my savings account.

Why oh why is it so hard just to be content with what we have and focus on the fun part?

Anonymous said...

“Once we master something it gets boring, because we strive to know more all the time”.

Not in my case:

I use my photo gear to make pictures. I would much rather work with a tool that I’m intimately familiar with that with a piece of newer hardware that might demand more than a normal amount of my attention during the process of image making. I don’t want my equipment “in the way” between my work and me.

When I get a new camera, new lighting hardware or piece of software, this new stuff must be learned – I’m a slow learner. In the film days most cameras were similar enough as to be learned quickly; especially if within a system, like Nikon or Canon. Today with pro digital cameras having 100+ menu options to memorize and with the cost of most pro cameras in the range of $2700 and up (most of us buy 2 copies so $5.4K or more), I don’t switch my camera gear often. I honestly believe that a clean 12 MP file will do for most all I do. I too work between 100-400 iso for 95% of my stuff. I’ll stay at 100 iso when possible. I lived in a Kodachrome 64 world for many years. If I need a bugger file, I rent a camera. A D800 is easily rented and I have lenses that I know well in the (FX) Nikon mount. I also share my lenses between film and digital media – fewer lenses to have to “know well”.

Staying current with the all the new camera gear that I might use in my work is important. But, rather than spend my time and money on the newest hardware every 18 months, I use that time and money to fund personal photo projects.

Different strokes..


Anonymous said...

Kirk, I love your article and it is most helpful. However, you missed a point improtant to me. I was very reluctant to give up film for digital. I owned my film camera for a long time, and it functioned as a part of me. I was free to concentrate on my subject, how the light strikes, on angle of view and perspective. When everything was right the shutter clicked without me thinking about it. This familiarity takes lots of use, and with a new camera I faced a learning curve that is longer than I wanted to climb. I have owned my Canon 5D for a long time and see no reason to buy a Mark 3 or a 6D. The 5D does everything I need to take the pictures I want to take. A carpenter does not think about his hammer, he concentrates on the nail, where he wants it to go into the wood and the hammer strikes without much thought. So it is with cameras. At least for me.

Carlo Santin said...

True enough, but at some point every working carpenter out there, the ones who had to feed themselves with their trade, dropped their hammers and picked up nail guns...and haven't looked back, and probably wondered why they didn't pick up that nail gun sooner.

jason gold said...

A superb discussion and might say confession. Well done Kirk. The truth ,for me, is that we are sinking in a morass of technology.It is continually updating, upgrading and obsoleting, perfectly good tools. This mania cannot be sustained indefinitely. Even the "everybody with nose pressed into phone screen" too, will one morning become redundant. You can only force so much..
Masters of photography is a hard one to see. i've heard friends compare their shots of the Sierras and Yosemite, to Ansel Adams. There is no comparison! Ansel trekked to many places with mules/donkeys, camping out in the wild. Getting there in an air-conditioned bus is not same! The difficulties that Ansel faced should not be overlooked.My first sight of America and my first American, when my plane from South Africa hurled across the sea and suddenly we banked and began to touch down. It was about 6:00AM. A man in orange overalls was striding somewhere near the runway. Can i compare my snaps to what passengers saw from the Mayflower. Times change but not good art. We know when we see! To see without a sense of the history of man and art, is to re-invent the wheel.
All the hoo hah and smoking mirrors do not art make. I see very little that is really good.
Landscape? Well a famous photojournalist who devoted his life to recoding, in a masterful manner, the Apartheid Era of South Africa. He said to me,something like this, "Once Apartheid was gone, NOBODY wanted my images. If i had shot landscapes and nature, they would be selling."

Anonymous said...

Just for perspective:

Not to take much away from the big AA, but Adams followed in the footsteps of Eadweard Muybridge, who followed, often just days behind, Carlton Watkins. This was in the 1860s and both men used glass plate cameras. Muybridge, it turns out was the better photographer favoring cloudy sky’s in his pictures. Both of these photographers were famous for their large (contact prints) prints of Yosemite Valley made with Mammoth-Plate cameras. A Mammoth-Plate was 20”x 24”. This is a wet plate prepared just before exposure and processed just after exposure. Both worked out of wagons and Tents. Think about Adams packing his 8x10 and later, a 5x7 or 4x5 for most of his work, and going “home” to “Best Studio” to process his images, his wife Virginia helping much of the time vs. Muybridge and Watkins packing 20x24 glass plate cameras around the Valley in the 1860-1870s. Both these men did well with their work, Watkins exhibiting at the Yosemite Gallery and Muybridge at The Thomas Houseworth Gallery; both galleries were located in San Francisco.


Richard said...

I see a lot of really great photographers on Flickr. Real masters. The problem is the venues (i.e. galleries) for them are so few and most of those are relatively unknown (not in NYC)and you really have to seek them out. Then there is this great, ongoing conflict with the art world, which dictates that somehow great photographers had to be painters first. Don't believe me? Follow the photo art blogs. Good art/crappy photography?

Great, wonderful "photographers" are out there, but you have to look for them.

Anonymous said...

"Real masters" ya baby.. show me the next Irving Penn..


Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anonymous said...

Looking for Bobby Fisher..


jason gold said...

well said! mine was a quick reply..sadly guilty of ALSO ignoring the pioneers.
the main thing of my reply, Photography has taken a downhill ride since digital.
looked at a book, on magazines and print advertising, printed before digital, 1998,
see the mastery of the medium. not masters of Photography.
simply photographers doing their thing, so well. like Kirk..

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