Your words, not unlike your pictures, nurture my soul with their relentless search for meaning in this increasingly acritical world of ours. All love. Keep on keeping on.
Compelling reflections, Reuben. Much of this rings true. Photography paradoxically seems to have little to say in, to, or about our image-drenched world (though the problem is by no means confined to this medium). On Photography doesn't fare well in this essay (and perhaps it is time to move on), but I think Sontag was onto something when she said that many seek to make themselves feel real by being photographed (or, to modify her point, photographing). What do we do with modernity's loss of the self that isn't simply adopting post-modernist irony or retreating to technophilia and spectacle? Let's talk more about that; as you know, photographs only get more interesting as you think about them.
Wouldn’t an underlying desire for community among photographers also explain why our goals shift from simply making a strong photograph to asking what to do with it? Workshops reflect this impulse—they’re a way to gather, to be seen, and to learn to see. Yet even in these spaces, we remain fragmented, negotiating visibility while still reaching toward connection.
Hey G, I think you make a very valid point about the desire for community, (personally, I've found peers and mentors more helpful) and it should be obvious that I'm not against the idea of making things from the pictures and putting those things in the world. I mean, that would be pretty hypocritical of me, as someone who's published a lot. Wanna make a zine? Please do! It's fun. I just think that too often the idea is a response to "I don't know what these pictures are for," rather than "I want to put a certain distillation of this work into this form." I think some are working from the latter statement and others avoiding the artistic question disguised in the former.
Absolutely — I agree the strength comes from moving past “I don’t know what these are for” into making a deliberate choice about form. Daido’s Farewell Photography is a good example: not just a set of images, but a book where the form itself is the artwork — chaotic, grainy, fragmented — a distillation of his rejection of photographic clarity.
Well said, Reuben. For what it's worth, at least in terms of "modern" writing about photography, I really enjoyed Stephen Shore's Modern Instances. I think it too touches on what you're after in your own writing, at least from an outsider's perspective
Thanks, Nick. I enjoyed big parts of Modern Instances, but much prefer his book The Nature of Photographs. I also think Larry Fink's On Composition and Improvisation, from the Aperture educational series, is a gem.
thanks, I will check out the Larry Fink book. I started reading the Sontag essays but found them rather frustrating, particularly her apparent distaste and misunderstanding of Arbus's work. Though I do wonder how much of that was a reflection of the time period it was written
Unfortunately, people are still attacking Arbus, and just as foolishly as they were 40 years ago. Her brilliant work still provokes all these years later.
Your words, not unlike your pictures, nurture my soul with their relentless search for meaning in this increasingly acritical world of ours. All love. Keep on keeping on.
Compelling reflections, Reuben. Much of this rings true. Photography paradoxically seems to have little to say in, to, or about our image-drenched world (though the problem is by no means confined to this medium). On Photography doesn't fare well in this essay (and perhaps it is time to move on), but I think Sontag was onto something when she said that many seek to make themselves feel real by being photographed (or, to modify her point, photographing). What do we do with modernity's loss of the self that isn't simply adopting post-modernist irony or retreating to technophilia and spectacle? Let's talk more about that; as you know, photographs only get more interesting as you think about them.
Wouldn’t an underlying desire for community among photographers also explain why our goals shift from simply making a strong photograph to asking what to do with it? Workshops reflect this impulse—they’re a way to gather, to be seen, and to learn to see. Yet even in these spaces, we remain fragmented, negotiating visibility while still reaching toward connection.
Hey G, I think you make a very valid point about the desire for community, (personally, I've found peers and mentors more helpful) and it should be obvious that I'm not against the idea of making things from the pictures and putting those things in the world. I mean, that would be pretty hypocritical of me, as someone who's published a lot. Wanna make a zine? Please do! It's fun. I just think that too often the idea is a response to "I don't know what these pictures are for," rather than "I want to put a certain distillation of this work into this form." I think some are working from the latter statement and others avoiding the artistic question disguised in the former.
Absolutely — I agree the strength comes from moving past “I don’t know what these are for” into making a deliberate choice about form. Daido’s Farewell Photography is a good example: not just a set of images, but a book where the form itself is the artwork — chaotic, grainy, fragmented — a distillation of his rejection of photographic clarity.
Well said, Reuben. For what it's worth, at least in terms of "modern" writing about photography, I really enjoyed Stephen Shore's Modern Instances. I think it too touches on what you're after in your own writing, at least from an outsider's perspective
Thanks, Nick. I enjoyed big parts of Modern Instances, but much prefer his book The Nature of Photographs. I also think Larry Fink's On Composition and Improvisation, from the Aperture educational series, is a gem.
thanks, I will check out the Larry Fink book. I started reading the Sontag essays but found them rather frustrating, particularly her apparent distaste and misunderstanding of Arbus's work. Though I do wonder how much of that was a reflection of the time period it was written
Unfortunately, people are still attacking Arbus, and just as foolishly as they were 40 years ago. Her brilliant work still provokes all these years later.