Edmund Kesting, Frau G. Kesting, 1930.
Gelatin silver print. Fransisco Museum of Modern Art

Edmund Kesting was born in Dresden, Germany, in 1892. The son of the local police secretary, Kesting attended the Kunstgewerbeschule at the Akademie der bildenden Kunste. Kesting became a professor and eventually founded the art school called "Der Weg," or, "The Way."He was known for his pioneering work in experimental photography, especially his work using a process that produced works known as "Chemigrams"--a kind of painting using photo sensitive paper, developer, and fixer.

This particular photo was taken in 1930, and is well known for a different kind of experimentation; namely, the overlapping of geometric and organic forms, the unusual reflections, and many angles within the frame, all that distort space and create an image of restlessness. The subject's face, moreover, is anxious, and the environment that she sits within only further reflects this. It is innovative in that it uses layered shapes and reflections to reflect a particular emotion.

The subject sits against the very right of the frame, and the car frame creates strong diagonals across the image, effectively dividing up the frame into different planes. The reflection in the window is both distorted itself and obscures part of the frame. Dark lines alternate with bright areas, and the clarity, caused by a small aperture, draws the viewers eye through the maze of diagonals, through the car and out to the house far in back. In the midst of all of these strong diagonals and verticals, there is the implied line created by the gaze of the subject, cutting horizontally across the image.

Like already stated, this image depicts restlessness and anxiety. The woman's expression is tense, and inquiring. The various windows and parts of the car create an abstracted space, blurring some areas, reflecting and distorting light in such a way that geometric shapes are superimposed over the more organic shapes of the person and wheel. There is a sense of unease as our eye seeks a way through the gauntlet of frames to the stark house in the distance.

To make this photo, Kesting got close to his subject, and, using natural lighting, simply took the photo when the reflections and light were most advantageous. In the dark room, he could have perhaps controlled the exposure of the photo in order to create the shapes of light that are so prominent.....

....And like already said, this photo was taken most likely in an attempt to experiment with reflections and light. However, the subject is of Kesting's wife, and so there could be a sentimental reason for the staging of this photo. Kesting does not explicitly state his intention, but the photo does seem quite personal, given the proximity to the subject, and the subject's clear face despite the abstracted surroundings.

What I like most about this photo is the reflections on the car window, and the shapes they create on top of other shapes. The gaze of the subject and the angle of the photo are interesting too. Unfortunately, cars these days don't contain as many straight angles, so the many small frames created by the car are less likely to occur if this photo was taken in a modern setting. The juxtaposition of the geometric and organic shapes is nice though.

In my image, I tried to keep certain compositional elements similar--the angle the photo was taken at, the subject sitting in a car, looking out from the window, etc. The reflection in the car window was also an important element I tried to include. A reflection of myself, incidentally, made it into the photo as well. The subject is framed by the car and window, but, since modern cars are much more curved then cars from the 30's, I had to compensate for the lack of vertical distortion by lowering the window, and making the distortion of light more horizontal. This, of course, changes the mood of the photo considerably, since the horizontal rather than vertical lines dividing the image create a more balanced, calm picture, and indeed, the subject's face seems more contemplative than anxious. So while perspective, emphasis, contrast, and lighting were kept as close to the original as possible, the reinvention of the photo lies within the concept. I've taken a photo embodying the anxiety and restlessness of a woman driver, and created instead an image of calm and confidence, despite the imposition of the outside world seeking to fragment the subject. She gazes serenely above the distortion and chaos, found in several planes, that surround her.

Blog Prompt #7

On this particular day, I saw mainly photographs of people, most of them static, but some dynamic. Landscapes were the other kind of photograph I encountered the most often, in restaurants or hanging in the halls of buildings. Yet the portraits were almost all entirely personal ones, in small frames on my desk, or given to my roommate, tacked above her desk. Portraits were kept close by, where they could be viewed often. The personal photographs found in my room were very much candid, close-ups of friends and family, some of which I appeared in as well. The imperfections of our skin and the usually bad lighting were all very noticeable, unlike the photos I witnessed in magazines, which were all very carefully composed and perfectly lit.

Personal photos are, I believe, much more concerned about the person or subject within the photo, rather than the composition as a whole. Professional photos, found within advertisements, are not spontaneous; thought has been put into the composition before the picture was taken.

In professional photos as well, the photographer's presence is not as readily acknowledged. We are usually simply witnesses of a scene. In personal photographs, the subject almost always has his or her gaze turned toward the one taking the photograph, and often the expression of the subject is heavily influenced by the one taking the picture. The intent of the photographer is to capture the person or the particular moment in time for no other purpose than to preserve a particular memory. The intent of an advertising photographer is to draw emphasis to a particular part of the image, not necessarily the human model. In portraits of famous people, the objective is to portray the subject in the most flattering (or unflattering, for that matter), way possible. A portrait is taken, basically, in order that the viewer will make a certain opinion about the subject, and the angle and lighting are manipulated so that the viewer will create the desired opinion.

Blog Prompt #6

In most cases, I would be against the altering of portrait photographs digitally--I think that the best portraits are ones that truly capture the personality of the subject, and are able to do so without any alterations. I mean, if a portrait is altered, it's not really them, is it? From a professional standpoint, when people ask to have their portraits done, they expect to be portrayed in the best possible way. A lot of people will only pay for photos that are touched up and make them appear better than they actually look. In that case, I don't see an alternative to digitally altering photos.

And of course, in general, I think that it is perfectly fine and acceptable to alter things such as clarity, exposure, and the like, since this is essentially what every photographer from the very beginning up until now has done when developing a photo in a dark room. In cases like these, alterations can't be helped.

I feel that it is ethically wrong when photos are manipulated in a sinister way in order to embarrass people or create publicity. Take tabloids, for instance--photos of celebrities are constantly altered to produce shocking images, and I would consider this an inappropriate use for the art of photography.

Blog Prompt #5

“I just think it's important to be direct and honest with people about why you're photographing them and what you're doing. After all, you are taking some of their soul.” ~Mary Ellen Mark




I agree. Being direct and honest with people is always a good philosophy, in any area of life--not just photography. But photography is an area where this sense of honesty is especially important. A subject puts him or herself in the hands of a photographer, and must trust that photographer--for photos are permanent. A photograph is forever. And in this sense, when a photo is taken of a person, a certain part of that person is preserved. A certain part of that person becomes, in a way, immortal.

And whatever expression, whatever emotion is captured by that photo, is captured by the photographer--it is not yours to keep anymore. The emotion becomes tangible--something that can be observed, studied at length. This small piece of your soul, this moment of your life, becomes something for all to see, for all time.

Project One: Written statements Part Two

Birch Tree photo:

People seemed to be drawn to the contrast and crisp detail, as well as the large depth of field, in this photo. One classmate said that the image reminded her of bronchial tubes, and a kind of connection between nature and the human body. Other students agreed with this sentiment--the photo looked a lot like human anatomy, and reminded people of blood vessels.

Most people seemed to think that the contrast was working well in the photo. The bright white of the tree against the comparatively dark sky was unexpected, and the dark lines on the tree made the image visually stimulating. Only one person suggested that I move the photo a bit off center, and I suppose that a different framing of the photo could be interesting, and possibly improve it.

I really like this tree, and I was actually thinking, before someone suggested the comparison with human anatomy, that a shot of someone in the tree, dressed in similarly patterned clothing, could be really interesting. The person could become a part of the tree.

"Fish" photo:

No one could figure this one out, even when I said what it was, and pointed out the different landmarks in the photo. The general reaction was that this photo was incredibly strange, but had nice contrast. No concrete themes could be applied to the image, it seemed.

The distorting and reflecting of the light, combined with the increased contrast, were definitely the photo's strong points. As a complete abstraction of real life, the class agreed that it was very successful. The only thing that I can think of to improve this photo would be to get maybe one more thing into the frame, to add even more contrasting shapes.

I think this would be a good jumping-off photo for a series of abstracts dealing with light distortion through glass and water. Different angles and views of my fish bowl, or other glass containers containing liquid for that matter, could produce some interesting results.

Doorknob photo:

When my classmates took a look at this photo, they sensed movement, and were drawn to the unique portrayal of this every-day object. Some mentioned that it almost seemed sinister, and this was close to the feeling I was hoping to get across. The image made them think of a horror movie, as if something was about to jump out from behind the door.

Most people agreed that the sense of movement, as well as the unusual composition, worked well in this photo. It came across as being a little unsettling, and so I think it was successful in that respect. I personally think that if there was a way to up the contrast of the shadows on the door more, without disturbing the door knob, the image would have a stronger impact.

Going with the noire theme, this photo could be a jumping off point for a series of photos in dark, dramatic, indoor settings.....kind of like movie stills. Shadows could be fun to play with as well. I could make a series of photos entitled "haunted house", that would take the mundane features of my apartment and make them a little more exciting.

Project One: Written Statements

This photo was taken while standing at the base of a birch tree on campus, leaning against the trunk and looking straight up at the branches. There's not a frame, per se, but this was intentional--I wanted to emphasize the wildness of the tree branches, going out of the frame in all directions. The nature of the birch tree, with its already natural variations of light and dark within the bark itself, lent itself well to an image emphasizing contrast, both in texture and in shade. Smooth, papery bark juxtaposed with the nearly black, knobby protrusions created a surprisingly dynamic picture for being such a static object. In camera raw, I was able to up the contrast even more, drawing attention to the lines and patterns created by the branches. The photo was taken on a very bright winter day, and perhaps the added intensity of the light, reflected on the bark, helped to further brighten the lighter areas of the image. I left the blacks of the image fairly intense as well, instead of balancing the tones evenly, but this only worked to further emphasize the contrast.

The main concept of this image was, quite simply, to find pattern and contrast in my observed environment. The birch tree has a wildness about it, due to the directional quality of its branches, combined with its already stunning natural variation in lights and darks. The unusual angle the image was taken at further adds to the disorienting nature of the photo, as something recognizable, yet somehow foreign at this new perspective. By emphasizing the contrast, the tree is abstracted into lines and shapes, rather than being viewed as simply a tree.

To make this photo, I spent the good part of a very cold winter day wandering about the campus, observing my surroundings. I came upon the birch tree by accident actually, since I wasn't intending to go that direction, but the friend I had been walking with wanted me to walk her back to her dorm. Right outside her dorm, this birch tree stood in the middle of what looked like a small garden, and, climbing over the short barrier and tromping through what must have been decorative groundcover in the summer, made my way over to the tree. To avoid destroying the garden anymore than I already had, I was forced to get as close to the tree as possible, and the only option to take a photo at that point was to look straight up. The view turned out to be much more interesting than I had expected. I tried taking the photo with both a large and small aperture, making the bark closest to me clearest with a blurrier background, and then bringing the whole tree into focus. Somewhere between these two extremes, I found the best shot, that allowed for the most intricate detail to come through.

I suppose that my intention was to draw attention to the incredibly detailed directional patterns that can be found in nature. I wanted to take a good, natural photo whose focus would be on my subject (the tree), without any distractions in the background. A vignette of sorts. I was hoping that the image would come out somewhat abstract as well, since the pattern of the branches themselves, besides the patterns of the bark, were so interesting. I was also so frustrated about my lack of success with shutter speed and my elementary skills with the camera that I was hoping for at least one successful image after an afternoon of wandering around with frozen fingers. I saw the birch tree from afar and got so excited by it that I made a straight line to it, my friend exasperatedly trudging after me.

I don't know many photographers yet (if anyone has a good suggestion for some sort of encyclopedic book on photographers and their works, that's easy to use, please suggest away!), but there are some comparisons to Imogen Cunningham's work on botanical specimens, in that I've emphasized the patterns and shapes found in nature, and the photo has an analytical quality and realism in its heightening of the detailed surface of the tree. My photo may come across as being more abstract, given its larger depth of field, and I also do nothing to control the lighting. My work embraces realism, but shows that realism is perhaps dependent on perspective. Even a highly detailed image can come across as something different, and details themselves, rather than clarifying, can disorient. The disorienting, overwhelming effect of too much information, perhaps--a theme that readily applies itself to our society today, bombarded as it is on all sides by information, oftentimes making the simple complex, rather than vice versa.



This second photo was truly a surprise. This photo is actually of my fish, but the result was something very abstract and quite interesting. There are distinct lines and both dark and light shapes that lead the eye across the image, extending off the boundaries of the photo. The angle the photo was taken at is slightly tilted, but appears to have been taken straight on. The lighting came from an overhead lamp that cast a soft white light down on the scene. Contrast was increased digitally using camera raw to bring out both the dark and lighter shapes.

This photo originally started as a close-up of my pet fish. I was hoping to catch a graceful image of serenity, but two things worked against the image I had originally planned. One, my fish turned just at the moment I pressed the shutter, and two, the camera auto-focused at the last moment not on the fish, but on the glass of his bowl behind him. I was not exactly pleased with the blurry image, but putting the photo into black and white drastically improved it--although it may not exactly evoke serenity, it still recalls a dream-like state, or the haziness of a barely-remembered dream. Most people couldn't figure out what the image was, but responded positively to it. Both the water surface and the edge of the glass fish bowl distort light and create odd reflections, adding to the disorienting experience, yet it's not necessarily an uncomfortable one.

To create this image, I used a large aperture, and got very close to my subject. I've always found fish fascinating creatures, and my fish, suspended in virtually motionless water, almost seems to float around the confines of the bowl. I love getting close up to fish--I'm always amazed by their beautiful fragility, and I feel that they convey the serene especially well. The bowl was lit by a soft overhead lamp, that cast a diffuse light over the counter. The original focus was, obviously, the fish, but the camera focused itself on the bowl behind it, the glass encrusted with calcium. This "mistake" actually turned out to be fairly good technique for getting a more abstract image.

Like I've previously said, the goal was to get a clear, yet serene photo of my fish, suspended in its element. After putting the image into black and white however, the goal became to enhance the contrast and heighten the abstractness of the photo, to create a surreal image.

For this photo, I didn't really take inspiration from any one specific artist. If anything, I was hoping to take inspiration from many naturalist photos that I've seen, but obviously, things didn't turn out that way. I could cite Imogen Cunningham again, as she is the only photographer besides Weegee that I know anything about at this point--both of our photos look at nature, although mine abstracts it perhaps a bit more. In this instance, what one would assume to be the focal point is blurred, and the focus is on details, such as the calcium deposits, that might not usually have attention drawn to them. It's amazing that, even in this culture where so much can be explained away by science, that dreams, and the mind in general, still remain so mysterious to us. This photo, like a dream, doesn't quite make sense.....yet it still makes an impression, and that is what we remember, and what affects us.

Of the remaining three photos that I haven't yet talked about, I think I'll address the doorknob
one. I got a lot of comments on it surprisingly--it was another photo that I thought would be a flop, but turned out to be interesting once it made it to black and white. Thank goodness I didn't delete any of my photos--I'd have nothing to show for this assignment! The focal point of this photo, the doorknob, rests in the lower right-hand corner, just barely touching the photo frame, while shadows enter the frame from the left, streaking towards the knob. The photo was taken looking down at the subject, and close to it. The original photo did not have much contrast in it, but I manually increased the contrast in camera raw to bring out the shadows a bit more. The lighting was very dim; the knob was only lit by the light escaping through a crack in the door behind me. The knob, which has a greater variation of shades within it, becomes emphasized in the overall image, against the less contrasting shadows and wood.

To me, this image is one of mystery. Doors always mark the boundary between one room and the next, one experience and another; and it is behind doors that secrets are kept. Many elements add to this sense of mystery. The photo is eerily dark and indistinct. We see the door knob and recognize it as such, but not the door edge. The shadows reaching toward the knob are unidentifiable, and there is a feeling of foreboding and dread that accompany the image.

To create this photo, I used only what light was coming through the crack in the doorway behind me, and I got very close to my subject. I was thinking about the idea of "dread", and one of the scariest images I could think of was a closed door in a dark home, with something unknown behind it, or opening it. Shadows with no recognizable source can also cause "dread", especially at night, so I created the shadow using my own hand, taking the photo with just one hand, resulting in the strange, almost putty-like texture of the knob. The camera shudder actually worked quite effectively, I believe, in creating an atmosphere of dread, since it almost seems as if the photographer is shaking, and distracted by the surroundings.

My goal was to create an image of dread, through the manipulation of light and shadow in an indoor setting. This was among my first photographs taken, and so was fairly experimental, but the off-center focal point, shadow, dim light, and even my own unsteady hands created an image that makes the knob worthy of a second look, and hopefully unsettling as well.

I took my inspiration for this photo not from any single artist, but from a genre, particularly a film genre. The dark lighting and heavy use of shadows of the noire films of the 30's and 40's were my main inspiration. Directors such as Fritz Lang made heavy use of shadow to evoke an atmosphere of anxiety, and I try to use shadow in a similar way. Due to the shake of my hand however, my image relies just as heavily on the blurring of object boundary lines to get across a feeling of unease. For however advanced mankind seems to be, the fear of the unknown is a fear that continues to remain with us, and I hope that my image evokes that primordial dread.

Blog Prompt #4

"If I could tell the story in words, I wouldn't need to lug around a camera.” ~Lewis Hine.

As more of a writer than a photographer (and a speaker, for that matter), I have to say that I might personally be able to tell a story better in words than with a camera. But, as the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words, right? Images are what people remember--images are what stick around for the most part, and continue to impact the psyche when words alone cannot.

It's true that there are instances where words are needed--when words say more than an image. For instance, I don't think anyone will argue with me that Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I have a dream" speech makes a far greater impact than a picture of King delivering that speech. But more often than not, a picture can convey, in a single experience, those complicated emotions that leave us at a loss for words--the expression on a woman's face when her husband returns from a war.....the grief in the eyes of a man, uncertain of the future, staring out at his barren farm. An image transports a viewer into an experience, allowing them to be there, to be immersed in that indescribable moment. And in this way, a story is told in an instant.

Blog Prompt #3

“Photography deals exquisitely with appearances, but nothing is what it appears to be.”~Duane Michals

I've only been a photographer for two weeks, but I can already say that this quote is quite applicable to my experience so far. It's interesting that it is always the photos that I don't think will be very effective as an image that turn out to be the most effective. And along the same line, what I think I'm taking a picture of may appear as something completely different when I see the image later, or in black and white. For instance, a clear image of my fish, when focused incorrectly, becomes an impressionistic abstract, evoking more emotion than the original intent.

And I suppose this extends to the purposeful manipulation of images--an image from a camera is always taken from something real, something observed in the world, but the photographer, through the manipulation of light, angle, focus, shutter speed, and aperture, can abstract the image, and make it entirely different. Nothing is what it appears to be, when in the hands of a photographer. This is where the "art" comes in in the art of photography--not merely recording an image, but abstracting that image to a certain end.

Blog Prompt #2

Literally speaking, the word "photograph" means what it says--a light picture or recording. And I suppose that is what it is; the reflections of light off of a surface, recorded on light sensitive film. Yet, the concept of the photograph is more than just this scientific phenomenon; I know I've said it before, but a photograph is the record of an actual occurrence--a moment in time. As technologies have developed, photos have become more easily manipulated, blurring the lines between what is real and what is not, but the fact still remains that, even if images are superimposed over another or combined to create an unreal image, each component was still recorded somehow. Photos can be retouched these days, but at their base, they still record our world and the light that allows us to see it.

Blog Prompt #1

A world without photographs.....

On the one hand, so much more would be left up to the imagination--without the constant bombardment of images that we get these days, our imaginations would have to be stretched. Illustrators would be able to find good work, and might actually be able to make a living solely by their art. There would be no movies, except for, perhaps, cartoons.

However, forensic and crime scene investigation would be extremely limited. Our understanding of history would probably be slightly skewed, since no artist can be completely objective when creating an image describing a historical event. Our sense of the world would be romanticized, and different cultures would be far more foreign to us, since we couldn't witness for ourselves, but must instead rely upon another's depiction. We would have no film history, no pop icons, and our country would probably be less united because the images we encountered would not be seen en mass. Our concept of famous people would come from artist's sketches. Drawing might have even separated into two distinct fields: art drawing, and scientific, observational drawing. Photography has become such an integral part of our lives--everyone owns photos of family members and friends, and they don't have to hire a portraitist to record their family history. Candid moments are frozen in time, and preserved.

In fact, without photography, many of us wouldn't even have a past. Photos are proof that an event really did happen, and that certain people really were in our lives.

Imogen Cunningham. Two Callus, 1929. Gelatin Silver print.

And here is the original, the inspiration.

Imogen Cunningham was born in 1873 in Portland, Oregon. She was born into a wealthy family and was able to afford formal education. She attended the American School of Art in Scranton, Pennsylvania to study photography, but then left the school to return west and attend the University of Washington. There her love of photography was rekindled and she worked with a chemistry professor studying the photographic process. She then attended the Technische Hochschule in Dresden, Germany, where she developed a new process for creating sepia tones.

During her years of study, she worked as a photographer of botanical specimens for her professors, and this eventually turned into a fascination. Cunningham was a part of the Precisionists--a group of photographers that strove to move away from the "dreamy romanticism" of the art photography at the time. She emphasized details and patterns in her photos, rather than subject matter alone.

This image is among one of her many botanical prints. The two white Callus are framed by a nearly black background, given the heavy shadows of the piece. A high contrast was used, yet the piece remains balanced due to the nearly equal amounts of white and black areas. The white lilies were captured close-up and straight on. The light, coming from somewhere to the right, highlights the crisp edges of the lilies' petals and leaf edges, helping it to emerge from the darkness.

For Cunningham, this photo was mainly about patterns and details found in nature, and tied in with her Precisionist philosophy as an example of the kind of crisp, un-romanticized images they strove to create. Probably created for art's sake, the photo nevertheless shows her curiosity for natural details.

Cunningham used the Gelatin silver print method, which allowed for shorter exposures and subsequently sittings. It was a fairly popular process at the time, and a step up from the Collodion wet-plate process. Cunningham got close to her subject when photographing as well.

While her photos are aesthetically pleasing, there's also a degree of documentation, probably stemming from her background in chemistry and science, that appeals to me--while the photo may actually be staged somewhat, it doesn't appear to be. She seems just as much a naturalist as an artist.

This is the first photo I've taken for this class. It is a recreation of Imogen Cunningham's 1929 photo entitled Two Callus, a Gelatin silver print. My recreation uses socks.

To create this photo, I chose to keep similar composition, with a lighter subject surrounded by a more starkly contrasting, dark frame. The image is close up, and, since Cunningham emphasized and was drawn to texture in nature, I similarly chose to let the light fall where it may upon the socks, creating the areas of dark and light. I attempted to keep the image as balanced as the original, with roughly equal areas of dark and light, since there is so much contrast in the original; yet, due to the nature of the socks, less light reflected, and the image is still a tad darker than its inspiration.

Cunningham was fascinated by texture and patterns in nature--she looked to her surroundings and found beauty in the play of light off of the smallest of details. Given her background in chemistry and science, her photos seem to have an analytical quality in their clarity, and a great degree of realism--beauty as found not in the romantic notions and staged portrayals of her time, but in the reality of her surroundings. There is nothing more natural, more everyday to me than piles of laundry on my floor, so I strove to record a piece of my own reality through the manipulation of light across such a pile, this small detail of my own reality, examined and exposed.