10.18.2011

Catching up. It's been a while.

The last time I really posted to the blog we were in the middle of our extreme, full contact, death match, smack down drought.  I labeled this image (above): drought survivors.  We experienced record setting heat this Summer which, in a bizarre twist, coincides with a growing, national disinterest in global warming.  I can imagine the pitch from the Austin Chamber of Commerce five years from now if the weather doesn't change for the better:  Come see the sand dunes of the famous Hill Country Desert.  Move over Dubai..

Then again, it did rain last Sunday and we've got our fingers crossed that it will do so again.  Some day.  Sooner than later.  Hey! What happened to the hurricanes?  Anyway, we got two inches of rain around here and what's left of our lawn seems grateful.  Is it safe to shoot and drive?  I didn't think so but since there isn't a law against it who cares?


Ben ran another cross country race at Decker Lake (that's him in front)  last weekend and did pretty well.  Bettered his previous times by nearly a minute and a half.  I'll chalk up some of the improvement to diligent and disciplined practice and some of it to weather twenty degrees cooler than his previous races....  We're happy and proud.  He's very matter of fact....


At the end of the race the school threw a big picnic.  Open to all.  Brisket, burgers, hot dogs, veggie burgers and a ton of side dishes brought by the families.  I'm a sucker for condiments.  Love shooting them.  The boys and girls all ate like they'd been out running or something.  We had a cloud burst but that didn't slow anyone down.  Some of the younger kids there looked at water falling from the sky like it was some sort of mythical miracle.


No synopsis of the last few weeks would be complete without mentioning that stalwart VSL supporter and quasi-official bored (not mis-spelled) member, Mr. B, snagged himself a Swedish miracle camera and he's been shooting up a storm.  He's getting it dialed in and dangerous.  Taken at Trianon Coffee in Austin.


Speaking of dangerous, I've made a few trips to city hall to take snaps and soak up the ambiance of "Occupy Austin."  This young man (above) came prepared to do art on many levels.  Note the Polaroid Land Camera on his right side.  He'd shot up his supply of Fuji Instant film by the time I caught up with him.

I also appreciate the Holga.  Different cameras/different looks....

The protest was well attended......by the media.  On the morning it started I would estimate that the number of electronic and still news media had achieved parity with the number of protesters.  It was a well covered event and everyone from the police chief to the youngest protester was well behaved. In fact the chief, Art Acevedo, was working the crowd and posing with people who had interesting signs...

Here's the chief in mid-interview.  Serious on camera.  All smiles minutes later.....

It was tough for the media for two reasons:  1.  The well behaved protesters and professional police force gave them little action or real substance to cover, and, 2.  It was tough to find a place to do your make up before an on-camera report....(see just below).


There was a deficit of interesting protesters and agitators so the media spent some quality time interviewing each other.....

The one person diligently riling up the crowd was the woman in the electric blue dress trying to drum up support for  Presidential Candidate, Ron Paul.  Seemed that no one was interested in taking a flyer but everyone wanted to take a turn arguing with her.


Business is good but, of course, when business is down I'm unhappy not to be working and when business is up I'm unhappy not to have the free time to work on my own stuff.....

Hope you've stayed busy and happy

10.17.2011

The Quiet Image.

Many years ago I got a call from a magazine in Harrisburg, PA., called Early American Life.  They needed a photography who could travel to Louisiana with an editor in tow and photograph on beautiful, older plantations.  These were the early days of Kirk Tuck Photography and when I think back now about my packing up to go I smile at how rudimentary my gear was.  I was shooting with a Calumet 4x5 view camera and a Rollei twin lens camera.  For the 4x5 I had a 90mm f8 Super Angulon, a 135 Symmar and a 250mm Zeiss Planar.  Ten double-sided film holders, a Polaroid back and a changing bag.  (We'll do a whole column about changing bags sometime.  The young amongst us will gasp in disbelief...).

In those mythic days of yesteryear I owned two 2,000 watt second Norman Strobe boxes and four flash heads. All of this stuff, a ton of light stands, a giant tripod,  and enough film to last for a week and a half got stuffed into the bed of my Chevrolet three quarter ton pick-up truck.  This was a truck with at least 150,000 miles on it's 350 cubic inch engine.  It had a three speed transmission with a shifter on the steering column.  No air conditioning.  I had a "cap", not a camper, on the back.  The truck got something like negative nine miles to the gallon but what did we care back then?  It was Texas and they gave away gasoline instead of Green stamps at the time.  The truck was oxidized baby blue with white trim.

When I picked up my art director at the Austin airport she was "enchanted" with my "rustic" truck and always excited when I backed out of parking places.  In Texas people stop and wave you out if your vehicle has limited visibility.  Apparently, if you are from Philadelphia, backing out without looking is considered heinous enough to start gun battles.

We made it through torrential rains and flooded highways (thank you, Truck) and we visited many interesting people who, having made fortunes in one industry or another, felt compelled to flee to rural Louisiana and throw their life savings into crumbling monuments to a dark time in our country's past.

I took a lot of photographs but the one that stays with me from the trip is one I took outside with my old, twin lens Rolleiflex.  It's a clump of flowers.  I found them and liked them so I shot them. In my memory my trip through the backroads of Louisiana will always be marked by this image.

It's quiet, serene and captured just before the last light rinsed out in a muggy sky and the darkness crept in.

Loved that truck.  We used to sleep in the back when I travelled through west Texas.  It was always more fun than the hotels....

We're back. Both of us. All of us.

This is a small slice of time in the story of Belinda.  A snapshot view into an arc of stories.


It rained in Austin a week ago and we were all happy that nature nudged some benevolent clouds in our direction.  My trees and flower beds seemed happier than I've seen them in months and the two inches of moisture, wicked into the ground, moderated temperatures for the rest of the week.  We finally have a bit of Autumn.

One of the consequences of the rain, and my inattention to our gutters and French drains, was a little leak into the corner of my studio.  The floor of a closet where I store photo props got wet and one of my favorite grey canvas backgrounds got soaked.  I had elaborate plans to clean the background by hanging it over the fence and scrubbing with a sponge but finally decided, when Belinda wasn't looking, to dump the whole 10 foot by 12 foot hunk of dark grey canvas material into the washing machine and see what happened.

It's the first time I've ever washed a background and it went well.  After the spin dry cycle I hung it up in the middle of the studio, on its background stands, to dry.  And then, yesterday in the late afternoon, just as the sun was setting and the afterglow started to light up the evening sky, I looked over my shoulder from my desk and noticed how beautifully the soft, diffuse light was brushing across the gentle undulations of the background fabric.  The light was directional but without force.  It was almost like of mist of gray light.

I walked into the house and asked Belinda if she would come out to the little studio so I could take a shot.  I put a digital camera on an old wooden tripod and turned Belinda into the light.  The shutter speed was a slow 1/20th of a second and the aperture around f2.5.  The light was low enough to require a sensitivity setting of ISO 400.  I used an electronic cable release to shoot with.  We shot eight or ten images and that was enough.

Belinda went back into the house and I yanked the memory card out of the camera and went to the computer to see what I'd gotten.  From the beginning my intention was to make the final image black and white.  I chose this frame because Belinda seemed bemused.  The other frames were all good but all different.  Some had serious expressions and some were blurred with Belinda's laughter.  This one said it all.  It said, to me,  "I understand your frailties.  I understand your impulsiveness.  I understand your desire to photograph.  I understand your frustrations.  I understand the elation you feel when you get something just right."

I told Belinda all the reasons I stopped writing this blog.  She listened.  I told her all the reasons I wanted to start writing and sharing images again and that "look" up at the top of the page is the answer she gave me.  That's all.

I've been re-reading Susan Sontag's book, On Photography, for the past few days.  I'd read it years ago when I was filled with more hubris and impatience, and I'd dismissed too much.  The one thing that really touched me was her assertion that people in cultures with punishing work ethics (Her list:  Germans, Japanese and Americans) enjoy the hobby of photography because it seems like work and makes us less nervous about taking vacations and leisure time because we are convinced that we are still dutifully at work when we pursue our photographic creations.  It's a disturbing explanation for our desires to photograph.  But one that I believe is somehow mixed into the amalgam of our pursuits.

I prefer to believe my own conceit.  I think human beings, as members of tribes, families and elective groups, are story tellers at heart.  The photographic image is a crystallization of a part of a story that makes the whole of the story tangible.  If I show a photograph of a pretty, young girl at a coffee shop the image becomes part of an instant framework that brings you to the story with a ready supply of clues and facts and background.  You know what the girl looks like,  how she's dressed, her expression and posture, the surroundings, the visual feel of the coffee shop, and more.  You slide into the story with instant exposition.

But there are two ways to look at the individual photo.  One way is to approach it as a fully encapsulated piece of freestanding art and the other way is to look at the photo as a frozen selection in time from the continuum of a story.  I choose the second interpretation because, for me, every image I take cues me to think of the arc of actions and time connected to the image.

Here I'll make a confession.  I believe that I am a photographer without much natural talent.  There is nothing I bring to the table that anyone else cannot bring with the exception of my interpretation of stories.  There are hordes of people more technically adroit than I.   If you've done all of the exercises on Strobist.com and have read hundreds of technical blogs I don't doubt for a second that you can handle the technical aspects of image generation masterfully.  I'm also shaky at the ins and outs of composition.  I'm never quite sure how to handle the stuff that doesn't fit neatly into my frames and I'm generally no more than proficient when it comes to designing with colors.  Interpreting the technical stuff into art is a stretch for me.  When I say "no talent" I don't mean bad, I just mean, "not gifted."  "Not a natural."

I came to photography in an interesting way.  I always enjoyed writing and it came easily to me.  I feel like words are fluid and flow smoothly when I'm in my writing groove.  But all things visual and design are difficult for me and I struggle with them.  I started adult life as a writer but I always had the idea that good writing (story telling) depended partly on having good stories to tell.  When a writer is young they may be facile in the mechanics of a story but the foundation of the story is sometimes missing.  And, the work from younger writers tends to be like a brash wine that could stand aging and breathing.  I always assumed I would write something good but I also assumed I would do it in my 50's and 60's.  You know, after I'd amassed something interesting to say.

So I waded into photography to confront the challenges of my visual illiteracy.  My visual clunkiness. And every step has been like slogging through mud.  But the stories are there.  I've learned enough of the technical work to make the birth of my images reliable and I depend on the implicit and integral stories to bear the weight.  So there's always a conflict.  What is a photograph?  A fixed work of art or the slice of a story transformed to a visual symbology?  And do my own limitations inform my answers?

I come down on the side of narrative.  I secretly wish every photograph had a well written caption.  A way of contextualizing the image and the art.  When other photographers sit and share coffee we talk more now about why we photograph.  The dispirited wonder why they go through the motions and question their motivations.  At the heart I think we all have stories to tell and that the sharing of the stories assures us that there's a certain universality to our existence and experiences but at the same time there are little twists and inflections that make a story uniquely yours.  The storytelling is like a road map.

In Buddhist teachings everyone and everything is interconnected.  Our suffering and joy are interconnected.  And your story is equally important.  All our stories are of equal value in the big scheme of things.  If you tell your story people become newly aware of how things look to you through the filters of your experiences.  It becomes part of the ever changing matrix of their understanding of our existence.

When I question my involvement in photography I come around to the idea that I have a story to tell and, just as importantly,  an audience to tell it to.  The stories exist with or without photographs but become, in some ways, more concretely accessible with them.  When you have doubts about what moves you to take images, when you are frozen by the indecision you might ask yourself, "What is the story I want to tell?  What are the feelings I want to share?  How can I tell you how beautiful this thing in front of me is?  Here, let me show you.  We'll know this one thing together...."

Where do the stories come from?  They come from your own passions.  From your own curiosity.  From the things you love and the things you despise.

I understood that when I photographed people but I didn't understand what pushes me to photograph little details of my city's downtown.  Now I do.  I am trying to understand the story of people's interconnectedness and shared space.  I am trying to understand how we continually change our context to create a new world in each moment, anchored with the only objectivity available = our concrete surroundings.

In effect, it would seem that we capture images to tell long term stories about the past.  "Here is Ben at 2 years old and he was doing this......"  But there's more to the collection of images then the final chapter; which I always imagined would be me sitting on a small bed, in a small room, old and dressed in a worn suit and tie but with nowhere to go and nothing to do, holding small album or book of photos in my hands and remembering a life in the past that had moved on like water in a stream.  And the images in my book would be a last, desperate attempt to hold onto the life line of life and memory.

But stories are now.  Stories are in the present.  We make them now and they become part of an infinite ball of rubber band cosmos....rubber band by rubber band.  We add our stories because they are part of the continuum, part of mankind's story.  And no matter how small the story might seem it also seems to be our destiny to tell it.

And that's why I think we photograph.

Welcome back to my blog.  I appreciated everyone's feedback.  I can't promise you anything but that I'll write about things I think and show images that have some meaning for me.  Everything else is a crap shoot.

It's monday.  It must be time to get back to work.

10.14.2011

We'll be back on Monday. Stay tuned.

When, in a period of frustration, I quit blogging on October 3rd I had no idea that my decision would be met with 260 comments from disappointed readers and over 200 comments directly to my e-mail account asking me to please reconsider my decision.  I talked to my friends and business associates about it and got some really good feedback.  I've decided to resurrect the blog.  I'm making some changes.  If you want to comment you have to be a follower (or use Open ID).  That means you have to click the button on the side and be a public follower of the blog.  What does that get me?  It gets me your feedback and a contact so if I misconstrue your good-hearted jab for vicious character assassination we can work it out off line.  It's also makes it easier for me to block you if you decide to be a real dick.  All the anonymous people are resigned to a hellish existence of non-commentary.

If, for reason of your geography, you are constrained from joining you can send me a personal e-mail and, if I feel your comment has validity or humor I may, at my discretion, post it.  I'm taking most of the advertising totally off the site (I'm leaving links to my own books).  As soon as I can figure out the programming I'm going to add a donation button to the site.  You don't need to donate anything but if you are exuberantly wealthy and the value of the site is proportionate to your wealth I want to create a pathway for you to share your largess.  I reserve the right to put some links in the copy but you never have to buy anything to read my blog.

I change my mind a lot.  You are forewarned.  I may like Nikon next week and hate it the week before Christmas.  Ditto any other brand.  If you came here to kneel in worship with me to some brand of camera or light you have me confused with a church and need to re-read your Google Map.

But here's the bottom line.  If I don't hear from you I'm basically working in a vacuum and it's not very much fun to toss pebbles into a pond without seeing some ripples.  If you like something a little then check a box under the post.  Like it a lot?  Tell me why.  I actually wrote something that changed your life?  Wow.  I'm not sure I can handle that level of responsibility.

As before, I will write what I want and when I want.  One of the reasons I'm not eager to accept sponsorships is my feeling that they'll change, however subtly, my relationship with the site and I'm not into it.  I'm writing because I like to write.  I write about photography because I love photography and I think we have some standards and some points of view to uphold.  I also think the gear affects our vision and I like writing about the connection, the attraction and the frisson.

You are free to drop out at any time.

Finally, I've been hearing an interesting line from about 25% of the people I meet when I do public speeches or photo meetings or walks.  They keep telling me that I seem "joyful, funny and light-hearted" in person.....less so in my writing.  I'll work on being more serious in public...

Just kidding.  Please know that what I write is from my experiences.  It is always meant to be light-hearted and exuberant.  I'm not writing any of this for you.  I'm writing it for me.  And I have come to find out that is what most of you really value.

Thanks for reaching out and giving me a reason to write and share.  This time around could you drop me a line from time to time and tell me how I'm doing?

See you Monday October 17th, 2011.

10.12.2011

Interior with Nikon D100. How did we ever survive?

Kitchen.  The Nokonah Condominiums.  Nikon D100.  17mm Tamron lens.  Some light.

New Career!!!! Teaching people at serious companies how to play air guitar.


Working on a Holiday Card for a client of nearly 10 years.  Putting together the card with a background illustration and 70 individual people photographs sprinkled through.  Someone needed to make the scientists and engineers smile and laugh.  I was showing someone my air guitar technique when "Lightning Reflexes" Amy Smith grabbed a Canon 1dsMk2 and popped a couple shots.  If you can't be silly you really shouldn't be around other people.  Arch seriousness is just annoying.....


Interplay of Dark and Light.

Agfapan APX100.  Leica R8.  90mm Summicron.  Printed on Agfa Portriga Rapid.  The film, paper, camera and lens are no longer made.  This is officially an antiquity.  I can't make the same photograph with a newer camera and newer materials.

10.11.2011

Austin Autumn. Earlier times.

I called Lou up on a cool autumn day and asked her to go with me to Laguna Gloria Museum to make a little art, apropos of nothing. She wore an old courderoy coat and smiled beautifully as she looked down at her feet.
Hasselblad 500 CM, 180mm f4 lens. Agfa film.

10.10.2011

Thank You.


Thank you for all the kind posts that followed my announcement that the VSL would stop or at least radically slow down its output.  I'm re-a-musing myself.  I'm taking portraits and finishing projects.  It's my intention to post images and brief haikus about them here as time goes on.  To share the art instead of the recipe.

10.03.2011

End of the road.

Back in January 26th, 2009 I got side tracked.  I was a book writer and a working photographer.  The economy had just ground to a halt and I had time on my hands so I started writing this blog.  I'm not sure what I intended to say, what the long term goal was or what I thought I would get out of the practice.

To date I've written over 720 entries; some bad and some good.  Some popular (the gear reviews), some contentious (anything about the death of the commercial photo industry), and some largely ignored (the ones about inspiration, art for arts sake, personal growth and inquiries into what propels and sustains us).

I've been lifted up by a dedicated core of readers who like my style and what I've written and I've had days when I wanted reach through the web and throttle the hit-and-run, anonymous posters who can be insulting and belittling.  A fair tradeoff given that no one signed a contract, no one has expectations and people can sign on and off at any time.

I know I could "monetize" the blog and make some money from the content but that's not really what I had in mind when I started.

Yesterday I posted a piece about the Olympus EPM1 camera (which I liked) and, mixed in with genuine responses was a post by someone who liked the photos of an attractive woman but felt that the rest of the blog was of little value.  His/her comment really bothered me.  In the age of free content I guess we need thick skins but it made me step back and really think about how I was spending my time.

I should have been on the phone continuing to make calls to prospective clients.  I should have been working on the two book projects I have in front of me.  I should have been swimming or running.  But instead I was writing a piece about a $499 camera that will be obsolete in a few months and lost to nearly everyone's memory in a year.

Sure, there's an ego reward that goes along with putting out a blog.  On a good day we'll have 12,000 pageviews of the material here.   My name recognition among photographers is currently strong. If I liked doing workshops that would be a good thing.  If I had products to sell to other photographers that would be a good thing.  But the time spent here is time stolen from things that are more important for me.

We had a good run.  Now I'm turning my attention back to where it should have been all along:  How to re-invent what I do to make it fun and sustaining for my family.

I'm done spending time creating content for free.  It's a great way to make friends I never get to meet.  Putting something out to the public is a two edged sword.  Some people love it and some people will argue with anything.

I'm keeping the VSL blog site open because people seem to be coming more and more to also read the older articles I've written.  I intend to drop by from time to time to toss in something I think is important but the era of daily posts, equipment reviews and the wide open embrace of anonymous barbs and arrows has come to an end.

Thanks for reading.  Thanks responding.  Now get up off the damn couch and go shoot.