Frenetic Activity

Life sometimes seems in a "neutral gear" mode when to all outside appearances nothing of significance is happening.  Then, suddenly, a flurry of activity is upon you and you wonder if you are going to keep up with it all.

As I have mentioned a few times over the previous months I have been visiting a large and special parcel of land in the Hill Country of Texas with the goal of producing at least one work for the "Arts and Conservation" project of the Cibolo Conservancy. Although I have been wondering how it would all turn out, I am pleased with what finally came about through these efforts. The project happens only once every other year so it is wonderful to be a part of this infrequent event.

The work I have chosen for exhibition in the show is titled "BEFORE THE FALL." This panoramic photograph takes in numerous cypress trees along a mostly unvisited stretch of the Guadalupe River between  Comfort and Twin Sisters, Texas. I have produced the image in my special archival process on canvas and framed it appropriately in a fairly rugged, yet elegant, dark wood.  The pallet of soft green and muted orange of the autumnal leaves of the cypress trees plays a counterpoint to the hard, textured surfaces of the trees' trunks.

In an "artist's statement" to appear alongside the exhibited photograph I have written:

"Living things— displaying scars of their battle with the elements, and yet ever new with the soft evidence of recent growth and renewal. These are the venerable cypress of South Texas. The Kilpatricks' conserved parcel on the Guadalupe is an extraordinary space where these botanical giants dance with water, sky, rocks, and deer. Although cousins of the evergreen conifers, these goliaths of the Hill Country are just turning from the green of summer to the amber/orange of autumn and will soon drop their leaves, to be swept away by the river below."

BEFORE THE FALL, © Bill Brockmeier, 2013, all rights reserved by the artist

The other photograph I will exhibit in the show is titled "DARK MIRROR" and is the image which juried me into the show. All of the selected artists' juried works will be displayed along with their current project works. I have displayed this image here in previous articles about the "Art and Conservation" project and show. The image is a panoramic view captured at the Pedernales Falls State Park, just after the sun had set. My artist's statement to appear alongside it reads:

"Water and stone constitute the "warp" and "woof" of this unique landscape textile that the Creator has woven in Pedernales Falls. The organic softness of liquid contrasts with and complements the durable and inert nature of hard rock– but in the end the water has its way and changes the face of the stone through erosion. Most visitors to the Park see it in the bright light of day, but I composed this image just after sunset, when the crepuscular light had tranfigured the landscape into a dark garden of mysterious beauty."

DARK MIRROR, © Bill Brockmeier, 2013, all rights reserved by the artist

Both of these photographs are available in very limited editions of only eight photographs each and were produced, mounted, and framed using exclusive archival, museum-grade processes. The full size of both framed works are 48 inches long by 14 inches high. The initial retail price of each will be $700 and when the editions are sold out, no further images will be produced. You can see both of these images in person (and all of the other wonderful art!) at the "Arts and Conservation" show, "Our Hidden Treasures," at the Cibolo Nature Center, in Boerne, Texas (check out these links for the location and details). The show exhibits art works of diverse media (not only photographs!) and will be open to the public from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. April 12 and 13 (FRI-SAT) and from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. April 14 (SUN).

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As it often seems to happen I have extended lengths of time when no shows are scheduled, and then suddenly multiple things seem to happen at once.  This has been the case over the past few weeks as I have been preparing for two shows which will be happening simultaneously this coming weekend.  The other show, Boerne Professional Artists' "Parade of Artists," will be happening at the same time— more on that later.

From Inanity To Insanity and Back

The modern state of photography– which is digital from end to end– has become a ubiquity, transforming it from the exclusive province of a few dedicated professionals and passionate amateurs to something entirely different. The capture of photographic images is now everywhere, at all times, and for every purpose– sometimes even for no purpose at all. I suspect (though I haven't actually seen credible estimates) that the number of photographic images captured in just the past five years has probably exceeded the total number of photographs recorded in the previous one hundred and eighty years.  Niepce could never have imagined where this technology would go when he gave birth to it at his French country estate in 1827.

We hardly even think about taking photographs anymore, it has become such a natural and almost automatic act. See something that interests you?– just lift your phone from your pocket, touch its screen, and voila– there it is! Touch the screen again, and there it is on Facebook for all the world to see and marvel at (or maybe not, if it's a photographic record of what you are having for lunch).

Want to see that image in some more "artistic" manifestation of itself?  No worry– you no longer need access to an expensive and difficult-to-master chemical/silver darkroom, or even some excessively high-priced photographic software package. You can simply use the freely-downloaded "app" that already exists in the same phone you took the photo with. Simply touch your screen a couple more times and, for absolutely no monetary (or even temporal) cost, you can be an instant Brady or Adams or Cartier-Bresson. Or so you think.

Photo of me taking a photo of me in the mirror
taking another photo of me in another mirror

The democratization of the photographic arts and sciences is, I believe, a very good thing overall. It has (or will soon) put the amazing power of photography within the palm of nearly person on the face of this earth. This is bound to result in some incredible art that never would have existed otherwise. But I am wondering if all of this instant photographic gratification is taking a toll on our ability to really "see" the world around us, on our capacity to truly experience and enjoy this world.

Holding a camera and intentionally aiming it at something in the world forces us to see in a different way. It is this alternate vision that is the basis for the art of photography. But it is possible to have too much of this good thing. A few years back I realized that I almost always had a camera at the ready– I just didn't want to leave open the possibility of missing that once-in-a-lifetime shot. Those unusual moments when I didn't have my camera with me I would look around me and be thinking– "Oh no!... just look at that!...if only I had my camera, what a shot that would make!"  I found myself elevating the art (or potential art) over the reality from which it was derived.

Since that time I have resolved to take periods of time away from the camera– and away from the desire and compulsion to produce art– and to come back into direct and intimate contact with the real and vibrant world around me. These are times I seek to lay aside my drive to create in order to simply relax and enjoy the real Creation. These usually prove to be times of refreshment and preparation for a whole new (and unexpected) direction in my creative pursuit.

If you happen to find yourself taking photographs too frequently, too casually, or maybe too compulsively, think about taking a break from it all. Lay your camera aside for a while, or hey, you might even lay your phone aside, and find yourself rediscovering an older and deeper way of experiencing the world.  Try it, you'll like it!

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A note to my readers— you may have noticed that my fairly regular (weekly?) blogs have been missing for a couple, no, a few months. Multiple factors (extended business travel, and a physical injury making typing difficult) conspired to knock me off my routine.  Putting the blog off for over a month soon became habit. But I am "back in the saddle" now and ready to ride again.

Finding the View

Front of an optical viewfinder system
(subject side)

The groundglass was an early and major innovation in composing the photograph and it was soon followed by the viewfinder. While the groundglass was a "focal" (image producing) type of system, the viewfinder is a distinctly "afocal" (non-imaging) scheme. The point of this particular compositional aid is not to produce a duplicate, or surrogate, of the photographic image, but to allow the photographer to continue looking "out into the world"– with the additional assistance of a synthetic framing boundary overlaying the visual scene. This artificial frame represents and marks the region of the scene that will be captured by the actual photograph.

Rear of optical viewfinder system
(eye side)

The first (and most rudimentary) viewfinder was a simple set of wire frames through which the photographer viewed the scene directly with his eyes, with no intervening lenses or other optical components. This simple metal framing device was something akin to the aiming sight on a rifle or gun. It allowed the photographer to retain a fairly intimate connection to the real world while, at the same time, having some objective means of properly aiming the camera and understanding what the photograph's ultimate composition would be. The photographer simply lined up the two metal frames with each other and then observed what part of the scene appeared within the frame. It was simple, quick, cheap, and effective– a very attractive combination of attributes.

As photographic hardware developed over the decades optical technology became not only more sophisticated but less expensive and, therefore, more available. This made it possible for the viewfinder to advance from a simple pair of geometric framing devices to a true optical system comprised of multiple optical components. The optical viewfinder system would allow placement of the camera close to the photographer's eye, and through which the photographer would be able to view the scene, with the ultimate image conveniently framed. The effect of this was something like viewing the world through a telescope or binoculars, albeit with a rectangular rather than circular framed field of view.

Looking into viewfinder

The optical nature of this viewfinder system also allowed many new additions to what this device was capable of. Precision reticles could be inserted into the interior of the viewfinders that would allow changing the field of view to match whatever lens (for example, wide angle or normal) happened to be placed on the camera. The optical components of the viewfinder could also be mechanically coupled to the focusing system of the camera's main lens to help the photographer know when the camera was properly focused without moving his eye from the viewfinder. As practical zoom lenses were eventually invented and added to the photographer's bag of tricks, the viewfinder became a zoomable device as well, with its zooming capability coupled to the main lens's zoom state, thus providing the photographer with an accurate view of the photograph's composition.

As cameras became more and more electronically instrumented, the display of the camera's exposure state (shutter time, lens aperture, and film speed) was ultimately incorporated into what could be seen within the viewfinder. At this point the photographer no longer had to take his eye away from the viewfinder to adjust the camera settings. He could remain looking at the composition of the photograph while simultaneously and actively manipulating the exposure state, lens focus, and zoom of the camera. This was a powerfully attractive capability, but as with most powerful technologies there was a price to be paid.

Scene framed in viewfinder

Just as the groundglass caused earlier generations of photographers to retreat from the real world under the isolation of their blackout cloth, this new generation would be isolated behind the camera body, with their open eye pressed up close to the rear of the optical viewfinder. The world beyond the photographer (the subject) could not now maintain true eye contact with the photographer, who began to appear as something of a mechanical man– his head and face replaced by a black rectangular box and a glass lens as his Cyclopean eye, staring coldly out into the world.

It would seem that regardless of the technology involved, there is always a tendency for the photographic artist to be removed from their immersion in the real world and be inserted into an isolated, artificial world. And perhaps that is the bain of all artists– that their art would attempt to dominate and replace the real, objective universe and the real human lives within it with a world of their own making. The power and beauty of artful creation can be seductive– for the creator as well as the beholder.