I'll start with the snowy river scene. I took several shots from this particular vantage point, experimenting with framing. This was the most effective shot. The scene is framed by the footbridge, the treeline, and the overhanging branches of trees around the edge. The lighting is diffuse, and the low contrast emphasizes the mysterious, magical, "Narnia" feel of the image. Its mood is somber, but also in a way, wondrous.
This particular image is more about a mood than anything else, I think. I wanted it to reflect the awe I felt standing there, surveying the scene in front of me. It was thrilling to be there, and I wanted my image to capture as much of the scene as possible, with the trees reflected softly in the water, and the mist on the river. I wanted it to inspire curiosity, and make the viewer want to travel further in, and follow the path toward the mist in the distance.
To create this image, I basically went on a walk on a very snowy day. I was actually hoping to photograph some rock carvings, but stumbled upon this scene on the way. Grand Ledge has a magical feel to me--this is one of my favorite running routes, and I always get such a feeling of joy running down this trail. I did nothing to make this photo. I just had the great blessing of being there.
Once I started photographing, I knew that I wanted to make a photo that would really capture the beauty of this little, treacherous trail in this surprisingly unique Lansing-area town. I'm always trying to drag people to Grand Ledge to show them how amazing it is, and here was visual proof of this place that fostered so much of my imagination.
There's really not a whole lot that's unique about the concept of this photo, I have to admit. It's very similar to the kinds of scenes depicted on items such as Christmas cards and the like, and as a landscape, I'm sure there are other such snowy scenes around. I think what makes mine different though is that it feels darker, and as a result, more mysterious than photos meant to invoke nostalgia for home, or warm Christmasy feelings. There's something serious about it, and even though there is a foot bridge, it feels ancient....mystical, even. It encompasses not only the present, but evokes the past, and maybe even hearkens back to when Native American tribes used this area as a wintering ground. It's a present day photo that recalls the past, and the entire history of the many people who have found this area beautiful enough to stay.
Part II
A lot of people seemed to like this photo. It reminded them of other snowy scenes they had seen before. Some thought there was something "cute" about it. I personally find it a lot more rugged than cute--the straight, strong lines of the bridge, and the somber mood overall play to this idea of ruggedness, I believe. I'll admit though that snowy scenes can become somewhat stereotypical, because of their associations with Christmastime.
I think that the size of the image, combined with the satin rather than glossy paper really helped this photo. The reflections in the water and framing overall were parts that people thought were especially strong. The mist on the river was a highlight of the photo as well, and the low contrast worked for creating the experience of the photo. Had I figured out how to burn and dodge such small details, I think I would have darkened the framing branches around the edge of the photo, but other than that, I think I would have left it as it is.
This photo could be an interesting jump-off point for a series of photos of places around my hometown that evoke both the past and present in a single scene. Grand Ledge is full of opportunities for this kind of a shot--Grand Ledge is both proud of and closely connected to its past. The Historical Society practically runs the town, and GL strives to maintain so many of its original structures. It's not uncommon to see the past harboring the present in its storefronts.
The Other Photos
I chose these three (it was a hard choice), because all of them were abstract--two literally a man-made, pre-meditated abstraction, and the other abstracted by man over time, with no conscious planning. As an abstract, I wanted to crop out all parts of the photo that would give these photos a context. They are close up, with larger elements off-center. The color photo used natural lighting, but the other two were lit by an overhead lamp. I did my best to show the greatest amount of contrast while still including the most details I could; I didn't want a high contrast to wash out or completely blacken some of the details, which I think help to disorient them even more.
The two black and whites are an abstracted space, obviously. This was the concept I started with. I was thinking about my fish at the time, and thinking about how the small space he lives in is so different from mine-a completely different element--yet it's only separated from my space by a thin layer of glass. I got to wondering about how the world must look from the inside of the bowl, and started taking pictures looking down onto the surface of the water. Water and glass both abstract and manipulate light, and to live out your life in an environment constructed from both must be a very disorienting experience sometimes--but what if it was the only life you had ever known? It's interesting to think about. The rock photo goes with the set because of formal elements, but it's actually a different concept. This photo is meant to show the mark of man on the landscape, and how man has permanently shaped something that you would assume would also be permanent, and as a result, created something that doesn't look like a rock at all.
I had thought about the rock photo idea for a while, but didn't expect to get such a painterly image--I was looking for more obvious signs of human marking, but I couldn't resist the beauty of the gold and bluish-gray rock. I used a large aperture, got close to the rock, looked for some interesting "cuts," and shot. The fish-bowl distortions were both complete accidents--when I took the photos, the focus would switch at the last second, which is why you get such a clear reflection of the underside of a lamp on the surface of one, and just a blurry mess on the other, which focused on the marbles at the bottom. I love these kinds of accidents. I need to let myself make more of them!
I guess I've already covered my goals for the images. The rock one was to show the mark of a human in the landscape, and the others were to get a disorienting, abstract space. They're all dependent on shapes and line more than a definite sense of space. And for that, they are abstracting of a place as well.
These particular photos are definitely inspired by paintings more than other photos. Color, shape, and texture are the defining qualities of these spaces. The B&W photos rely on a sense of layering to create a space--I cite as my inspiration the graduate exhibition at Kresge last year. I don't remember his name, but there was a grad student whose paintings managed to create this amazing sense of space simply by using color layered upon other colors. The B&W photos look to be double exposures, but it is actually water and glass that, by distorting light, create a sense of space. The rock photo takes the idea of the "mark" in painting, and shows the painterly mark as left on nature, unbeknownst, by hundreds of people over many years. It becomes a crossroads for art and science--the process of erosion as an artistic expression. Human marking can utterly destroy nature, but since it is inevitable that mankind must make use of nature in order to survive, we have to find ways to do so unobtrusively. These markings are a testament to an obliging nature in the face of humanity, but it is a humanity that is bothering to come out to nature, to enjoy its beauty and see these magnificent rocks, in the first place. Respect and mutual understanding of limitations (man can't climb the rock without finger and toe holds, and the soft rock easily erodes) can create something harmonious in spite of everything.
Part II
People seemed to agree that the photos, especially the rock one, felt like paintings. The lamp-reflection photo reminded some an eye, and I suppose it does look a little like a very manufactured, symbol of an eye, rather than an actual eye. They thought the colors in the rock one were great, and in general were interested by the B&W ones, but these two were probably overshadowed somewhat by the color photo.
I think the abstractness is definitely working in these photos. People could not figure out what they were, and instead were drawn into the kinds of shapes and colors that could be seen, rather than the objects themselves. Personally, I think that I should have made the B&W ones smaller, since I think they are more effective if seen from a distance, and a smaller photo would force the viewer to see the image as a whole instead of getting into one small area of it.
I could definitely see these photos as the start of a kind of abstract series of painting-like photos. I think a large set of them would get a little overwhelming, but I like playing with water and glass and the distortion it causes, so it would be fun to make more of these. The rock one could be a starting point for a series on natural textures, zoomed in so that all we notice is the pattern on the surface.
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