Several photo quotes to ponder

From www.photoquotes.com

"If you are not willing to see more than is visible, you won't see anything."
- Ruth Bernhard

"You can't depend on your eyes if your imagination is out of focus."
- Mark Twain

"Everyone has a photographic memory. Some don't have film."
- Stephen Wright

When asked how he felt about missing photographs while he reloaded his camera with film, Winogrand replied "There are no photographs while I'm reloading"
- Garry Winogrand

"I dislike landscapes. I only like people, and plastic flowers."
- Elliott Erwitt

"One thing I would never photograph is a dog lying in the mud."
- Diane Arbus

"No place is boring, if you've had a good night's sleep and have a pocket full of unexposed film."
- Robert Adams

Geek Post: Quote for Friday

Friday is nigh, Bruce has an opening, my parents are coming into town and get to meet his parents for the first time. Things are hectic, but good. For a happy Friday, I share a quote I came across from an excellent post by a friend we simply call DK.

For all of those wondering the exact words Steve Martin said in the "paddle ball game/lamp" scene in The Jerk--and we all know we have attempted to quote this part many, many times...Oh my, I just got lost in his website. I adore Steve Martin, *love* Pure Drivel, and especially crack up over his art related writings, which you can read here and here and here -- and oh joy, here is one about photography and philosophy! Without further ado, here are the words from that infamous scene in The Jerk, courtesy of this most excellent site, Quote Geek:

Well I'm gonna to go then. And I don't need any of this. I don't need this stuff, and I don't need you. I don't need anything except this. And that's it and that's the only thing I need, is this. I don't need this or this. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle game and that's all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball. And this lamp. The ashtray, this paddle game and the remote control and the lamp and that's all I need. And that's all I need too. I don't need one other thing, not one - I need this. The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches, for sure. And this. And that's all I need. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine and the chair.

Lake Wobegon Philosophy

In honor of the big snow/sleet storm in the Northeast this past week and dedicated in part to my students, I post these aphorisms courtesy of Garrison Keillor. I was trying to give some life advice to one of my students and my eyes were drawn to a page I ripped out of the Tanglewood program on my refrigerator. For the past two Julys, Bruce and I have attended live tapings of "A Prairie Home Companion" in Lenox, MA and enjoyed the experience thoroughly.

It's interesting...when I was young my father used to listen to APHC on the radio and I thought it was the most boring program on earth. Now, in my 30s, I think it's the best. Funny how age changes things. Can I even begin to explain this shift to my students?

A Lake Wobegon Philosophy

1. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Do this before they do unto you what you don’t want them to do. Shame them with goodness. Kill them with kindness. Cut their throats with courtesy.

2. The way to do something is to do it. Persevere. If you want to become the Tallest Boy In The Sixth Grade, stick around, keep at it, and the prize will be yours.

3. Try not to talk about the relationship. And don’t refer to it as a relationship. Either it’s a friendship or a romance or an illicit affair or you’re related.

4. The rules for marriage are the same as the rules for a life raft. No sudden moves. Don’t crowd the other person. Keep all thoughts of disaster to yourself. Almost any marriage can be helped simply by having more fun. If necessary, try taking your clothes off.

5. Put a big dish by the door, next to an electric outlet, and when you come home, put your car keys and your billfold in the dish and plug your mobile phone into the outlet to recharge. Keep an extra pair of glasses in the bowl too. In the time you’ll save not looking for these things every day, you’ll be able to write War and Peace. Or the Mass in B minor.

6. All tragedy is misunderstood comedy. God is a great humorist who is working with a rather slow audience. Lighten up. Whatever you must do, do it wholeheartedly, joyfully. As you get older, you’ll learn how to fake this.

7. The secret of writing is rewriting. The secret of living is to see your mistakes and learn how to either correct them or conceal them.

8. It is nice to dream, but the urge to perform is not in itself an indication of talent.

9. You can’t live life all at once so take it one day at a time, and if you need drama, read Dickens. The lust for world domination does not make for the good life. The urge to be No. 1 is a bad urge. Charisma is an illusion and brilliance depends on who’s writing the test. Go for the bronze.

10. Life is short and it’s getting shorter. On the other hand, never buy cheap shoes.

(written by Garrison Keillor, from the Tanglewood program bulletin, July 2006)

Monday Show and Tell

Today's post comes from my blog fishing. (Don't worry I've got a couple good ones brewing.) This is a great site from Paul Schmelzer of the Walker Art Center. It's called Signifier, Signed; it's an offshoot of his regular personal blog Eyeteeth: A Journal of Incisive Ideas.

Here is his explanation of the project and performance artist Annie Sprinkle's fabulous version of his signature:

Many years ago, my then-8-year-old friend Spencer asked a prominent jazz musician for an autograph, but when he was given the usual signature, he scolded, "Not your name... Mine!" Following his lead, I've been asking writers, artists, politicians, and movie stars to sign my John Hancock, er, Paul Schmelzer. So far more than 70 have agreed...

Annie Sprinkle doing her best Paul Schmelzer. From www.signifier-signed.blogspot.com

Monday show and tell

I have been contemplating having a weekly blog feature, much like Alec Soth's "Friday Poem." Last week while sick, I posted a quote. Nothing was jumping out at me today, so I am broadening the offering to be a "show and tell." This might be a picture, a group of thoughts, a quote, etc. - some sage piece of advice, musing, or koan from someone else to kick off the week. Browsing the blogosphere I came across the below amusing and humbling list on Jon Gitelson's blog. Jon found this essay/poem/quotation by Paul Hester in SPOT, the publication from the Houston Center for Photography. This was likely produced on the occasion of HCP's 25th anniversary. I have been in a contemplative mood too as the PRC just turned 30 itself. As I am preparing to elucidate (hopefully) young minds in my impending class, I thought it apropos to meditate upon what we were thinking when just starting out. Since I am 33 years old myself, I wonder if I will look back in the same manner at my current state of being? It's mildy comforting to think so...

(Click on the image for a larger version if you have trouble reading it.)
Paul Hester, HCP SPOT

Monday quote

I am sick, it is raining, I am home from work. Thus, this pithy quote by Robert Adams from photoquotes.com (a super site to browse) is all I can muster.

No place is boring, if you've had a good night's sleep and have a pocket full of unexposed film. - Robert Adams, "Darkroom & Creative Camera Techniques," May 1995, page: 37

Follow the Links

I am realizing that having a blog is akin to joining a gym: you always mean to participate and you run the chance of feeling guilty if you don't. I and my partner Bruce just joined a gym on January 1 and we have not yet gone yet, but mean to when we have the energy (insert irony here). In my own daily blog reading, I was inspired to post on how I came upon to link to a couple of interesting tidbits. Think of this as the ancestry of a link or an insight into my thought process and web habits (interesting, boring, or scary? you decide).

While performing my daily visit to the Boston Globe's artblog, The Exhibitionist, by Geoff Edgers, I found that his blog made it to the top 10 blogs submitted to the Walker Art Center by Tyler Green, who writes another blog, Modern Art Notes. In Green's list, he lists Alec Soth's blog as well as the Walker's own employee blog (a great idea). Poking around the Walker blog, I came across a great post sharing John Szarkowski's thoughts on what makes a "perfect photo." It's worth returning to look for more from Paul Schmelzer and re-quoting the quote:

In a bad photograph, a lot of the time, the frame isn't altogether understood -- there are big areas of unexplained chemicals. It's especially difficult as the picture gets bigger. If it's small, a little piece of black can look like a dark place, right? But as it gets bigger, eventually it just turns into a black shape. And you look at the surface of the picture and it reminds you of the chemical factories on Lake Erie, creating pollution problems by making synthetic materials out of soybeans and petroleum derivatives. And you don't want that. The basic material of photographs is not intrinsically beautiful. It's not like ivory or tapestry or bronze or oil on canvas. You're not supposed to look at the thing, you're supposed to look through it. It's a window. And everything behind it has got to be organized as a space full of stuff, even if it's only air.

Some photographers think the idea is enough. I told a good story in my Getty talk, a beautiful story, to the point: Ducasse says to his friend Mallarmé -- I think this is a true story -- he says, "You know, I've got a lot of good ideas for poems, but the poems are never very good." Mallarmé says, "Of course, you don't make poems out of ideas, you make poems out of words." Really good, huh? Really true. So, photographers who aren't so good think that you make photographs out of ideas. And they generally get only about halfway to the photograph and think that they're done. ....

- JS