Last weekend we as photo club took pictures for Mud Masters at their Spring Edition. The Mud Masters Obstacle Run is a 6- or 12-kilometer run that is designed by marines and inspired by the most challenging assault courses in the world. As the name already indicates mud plays an important role here, just like mud water by the way, fire and other inconveniences. This edition, spanning two days, had about 8000 participants who not only had a challenging day of fun and mud madness, but also contributed to the charity this event sponsors, the Revalidatiefonds (Revalidation fund).
This time I was posted at the very last obstacle in the course: the Sizzler. This was a kind of gate where people had to run through about 15 meters of electric wires hanging down. This meant quite a challenge for the tormented participants, but also for the photographer – a challenge that was twofold.
In the first place everybody runs here as fast a possible to minimize the pain, preferably bending down of protecting the face against the wires, through the Sizzler passing the photographer towards the finish that is just behind him, where a cool beer and a t-shirt are awaiting. This means that also the photographer must deliver some kind of sportive performance, comparable to skeet-shooting.
A second challenge is to capture in that very short moment of passage – in between all this movement, usually in groups – the emotion. This is where it is all about, and there is plenty of it at this stage of the course. Here people arrive at the very end of the run, often literally, exhausted, covered in mud and soaked, glad to have reached (nearly) the end. And then they face this ‘energizing’ treat. Under these conditions participants go through a number of rapid emotional stages: first the hesitation, then they clench their teeth and run for it, followed by anger and pain when they get their shocks. And once they are through it you see their relief and joy when they realize they made it to the finish.
To capture these emotions you need concentration and (dynamic auto-) focus, empathy and panning your camera, and in post-processing ‘abstraction’: cropping, black & white conversion and playing with contrast. In the end you keep a few gold nuggets, shining in the ... mud.
GeJa-Vu! as a blog documents and shares my photographic experiences and considerations through time. As opposed to my website it is intended as a travel-diary - but also as a meetingpoint with fellow travellers.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Monday, March 11, 2013
Abstraction
Recovering from surgery I have all the time to think about which direction to take in my photography – and I made up my mind. I confess myself to what I call abstracting photography (abstract as a verb).
What abstract means in the context of photography was subject of a discussion we had in our photography club some time ago. And this is how I think about it.
In my opinion abstract painting is a valuable movement in art that was in fact to a large extent ‘released’ so to say as a result of the development of photography in the early 19th century – de facto releasing painting from the care to represent the physical, visible world. The question is, if photography could benefit from a similar departure from representation – and to which extent. My answer would be: ‘yes’ respectively ‘half ways’, and I will explain why.
Though even fully representational photography – the ‘natural’ common ground for photographers - offers a lot of opportunity for the photographer to add personality to his images, and for the viewer to experience curiosity and imagination while enjoying it, I believe there is so much more to gain if we move to the other side of the spectrum: to the abstract. But just copying abstract art from in particular painting is not the way.
There is a fundamental difference between painting and photography in approaching abstraction, which is derived from Latin ‘abstráhere’, meaning ‘to leave out’, the reduction of everything that is not relevant to reveal the more fundamental structures. Well, the modern painter starts fundamentally always with a blank canvas and the abstract essence of what he wants to convey – and then starts to add form and shape to it, which can be abstract too. The photographer, however, by necessity must start at the other end of the spectrum, with the visible world as captured on his sensor/film, making ‘abstraction’ here a verb, an activity that takes effort, led by his personal ideas, intuition and feelings.
This mean that, from my perspective, abstract photography that makes sense (has meaning and personality) cannot be an easy imitation of fully abstract painting. Fully abstract pictures are often enlargements of small parts of visible reality that can no longer be recognized as such. These abstract images don’t relate to any real feelings or ideas of neither the maker nor the viewer, except for experiencing the result as pleasing, surprising and decorative. The maker is de facto fully absent – and there is no place for any empathy or imagination by the viewer either.
Photography in contrast, should in my experience start with recognizable reality (‘to look’), but should at the same time also grasp beyond at what is meaningful to the photographer (‘to see’). The bridge to that is established by the things that draw attention and that apparently/possibly have meaning. These are ‘signs’ that trigger the imagination, first with the photographer, later with the viewer. The discovery and interpretation of these signs, which largely takes place intuitively, benefits from a process of ‘leaving out’ (abstraction) and distortion (‘transformation’), both expressions of the communication that takes place between the personal imagination and the essence behind the visible world, aimed at surfacing what is really important. Examples of abstraction are the reduction of shape and sharpness, number of elements within the frame (composition), all or selected colors and full specters of light (like in infrared photography). Distortion can for example mean fading (by time, motion and focus), running, discoloration and perspective distortion. This can take place in post-processing but already starts while taking the picture:”framing, choice of filter and lens, depth of field - and even before that, while viewing: by the mental state that is called by Zen-Buddhists as ‘mushin’, no-mind-ness. It means a fully open mind that is extremely alert but not focused on anything particular, capable of detecting unexpected signs and meaning.
The result should be an image that still has visible image elements, but at the same time is abstracted to such an extent that the signs stand out. Signs, which meaning is not obvious but emerges/develops subconsciously in a process of introspection, imagination and decryption. A successful picture is just besides reality, inspiring the viewer to take another view on reality, with different eyes. And to look into himself: what does this mean to me?
How different abstraction in photography is from painting I refer to Saul Leiter. As a painter Saul Leiter is part of the Abstract expressionist movement in art, the American counterpart of what is called in Europe the Lyrical Abstraction. In his paintings, like in most later abstract art, any form and shape has disappeared. However, as a photographer he made pictures that start with everyday reality – but through a process of no-mind-ness and abstraction pictures are captured that are recognizable as well as alienating and puzzling, and as a result keep on stinging and stimulating our imagination.
In summary: real abstract photography that makes sense should seek for the middle ground where there is still enough to recognize (and experience beauty) but where we are also puzzled and feel slightly at unease, making the viewer drift by his own imagination - like a moth, captivated by a fascination for the candle.
What abstract means in the context of photography was subject of a discussion we had in our photography club some time ago. And this is how I think about it.
In my opinion abstract painting is a valuable movement in art that was in fact to a large extent ‘released’ so to say as a result of the development of photography in the early 19th century – de facto releasing painting from the care to represent the physical, visible world. The question is, if photography could benefit from a similar departure from representation – and to which extent. My answer would be: ‘yes’ respectively ‘half ways’, and I will explain why.
Though even fully representational photography – the ‘natural’ common ground for photographers - offers a lot of opportunity for the photographer to add personality to his images, and for the viewer to experience curiosity and imagination while enjoying it, I believe there is so much more to gain if we move to the other side of the spectrum: to the abstract. But just copying abstract art from in particular painting is not the way.
There is a fundamental difference between painting and photography in approaching abstraction, which is derived from Latin ‘abstráhere’, meaning ‘to leave out’, the reduction of everything that is not relevant to reveal the more fundamental structures. Well, the modern painter starts fundamentally always with a blank canvas and the abstract essence of what he wants to convey – and then starts to add form and shape to it, which can be abstract too. The photographer, however, by necessity must start at the other end of the spectrum, with the visible world as captured on his sensor/film, making ‘abstraction’ here a verb, an activity that takes effort, led by his personal ideas, intuition and feelings.
This mean that, from my perspective, abstract photography that makes sense (has meaning and personality) cannot be an easy imitation of fully abstract painting. Fully abstract pictures are often enlargements of small parts of visible reality that can no longer be recognized as such. These abstract images don’t relate to any real feelings or ideas of neither the maker nor the viewer, except for experiencing the result as pleasing, surprising and decorative. The maker is de facto fully absent – and there is no place for any empathy or imagination by the viewer either.
The result should be an image that still has visible image elements, but at the same time is abstracted to such an extent that the signs stand out. Signs, which meaning is not obvious but emerges/develops subconsciously in a process of introspection, imagination and decryption. A successful picture is just besides reality, inspiring the viewer to take another view on reality, with different eyes. And to look into himself: what does this mean to me?
How different abstraction in photography is from painting I refer to Saul Leiter. As a painter Saul Leiter is part of the Abstract expressionist movement in art, the American counterpart of what is called in Europe the Lyrical Abstraction. In his paintings, like in most later abstract art, any form and shape has disappeared. However, as a photographer he made pictures that start with everyday reality – but through a process of no-mind-ness and abstraction pictures are captured that are recognizable as well as alienating and puzzling, and as a result keep on stinging and stimulating our imagination.
In summary: real abstract photography that makes sense should seek for the middle ground where there is still enough to recognize (and experience beauty) but where we are also puzzled and feel slightly at unease, making the viewer drift by his own imagination - like a moth, captivated by a fascination for the candle.
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