Mann, Goldsworthy and Nerds

Revenge of The Nerds (1984) is my favorite film of all time. When that is not on or my copy is lost, we must find other things to watch.

Finally got a chance to see the documentary Rivers and Tides, Working With Time (2001) about artist Andy Goldsworthy last weekend, and then dug into What Remains, The Life And Work Of Sally Mann (2008) this evening. I don't want to get into a big review, but again it is interesting to see what sticks in your brain after watching these things. Goldsworthy comes off as a true whacked-out artist who is shown communing with nature and molding it into his art in such an effortless and organic manner that he seems to be more plant than human. In the land, making his art, he is deep in the flow. He is at peace and delivering the goods...and he knows it. The crew later visits him at home at the kitchen table, surrounded by his children's play full energy while his wife cooks breakfast and he seems to be checked out of the scene: distanced, distracted, physically there but not present. That scene told it all...he just isn't meant for human contact. He can try to play the game amidst us humans. He can get a wife and have some kids, live in a house, etc....but he is meant to be in the land.

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I had heard all sorts of great things about What Remains. Mann became the definitive Mom photographer with the 1992 publication of Immediate Family, her body of work on her kids. Now, 15 years later, I have kids and am trying to address it in my work, so I thought it would be cool to view this. I had always liked Mann's images, though I was always confused by their similarity to the work of photographer Emmet Gowin, whom I believe was her teacher. Gowin's work, no question, defined the genre of photographing family. I learned about his work early and am still moved by it to this day. But...we are here to discuss Sally Mann.

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The documentary is lame: Mann could not be a more well adjusted and a totally grounded human being. Her kids, now grown, seem to have a great relationship with her. Her husband is cool and they love each other and seem to be best buds forever. I'm psyched for her, but all of this harmony makes for a boring documentary. The whole thing climaxes with an exhibition of hers being cancelled by Pace Gallery in NY. We never find out why this happened or what the deal was. Were they afraid it wasn't going to sell? Were they bummed by the subject matter ( dead bodies ) she was working with? Did they have a hot show by David LaChappelle they wanted to show instead?

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The body of work she was trying to exhibit dealt frankly with death and decay, two themes which have always been in Mann's work, so this new body of work wasn't really a left turn...more of an extension of things she has touched on in the past. It looked great to me: it had the darkness of her work, but lacked the physical sensual wonder the children always inserted into the Family images. It was a new body of work for sure that stood confidently on it's own. Seeing this revered artist suddenly overtaken by self doubt, right in front of the film crew was a priceless moment for anyone who has dealt with artistic rejection ...which I'd assume is everyone reading this blog.

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Watching The Mother Project, the documentary about Tierney Gearon a few months back kicked my ass and gave me license of sorts for my Echolilia project. I didn't get that from What Remains, but Mann did have a moment when she was discussing her Immediate Family images. She credits the kids with images totally, explaining the depth of self awareness and control the kids had to put forth to deliver these images to her. She didn't really take any credit for the images herself...and it rang true. Anyone who has shot a kid over and long period of time knows that feeling. The kid is delivering the performance, you are both sharing the experience...but the photographer is really just pushing the button.

Happy Halloween. The high holy day of youth (...and stoners and the gay of heart)

-Thatcher Keats / Rancho Thatchmo

Angry Pumpkin

Q + A With Myself Again

Q: So I was looking at this Echolilia thing you are doing. Do you have a moment?m

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TA: Yes, sure.

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Q: On a bad day it kind of reminds me of the guy William Wegman, you know, with the dogs? It's like he trained these dogs to get into all of these positions for him to photograph, and it's like the training that is the big accomplishment, almost more than the photography. Here you have your son with his face in a funnel. You have him looking fetal in a plastic container. Then this cardboard tube on the arm shot. Is your project trying to be like this Wegman thing?

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TA: Oh, I dunno, that doesn't sound good. I guess I see my son do something that looks interesting to me, that might have two meanings or something, and then I try to set aside time and energy with him to make a photograph together that shows that gesture, but in a more intentional location. A place that looks poetic, good light, foggy day, that type of thing.

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Q: Any response to the work?

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TA: Yeah, kind of. The other day I got a note from an art director who needed to contact me for some invoice question. She had never seen any of my work before. She dealt with business and then really focused in on that Echolilia project right away: it spoke to her in some way, thats all she could really say. I thanked her, then got a note back from her explaining that she had a son and her son was on the autistic spectrum. I couldn't figure out if there was something she was responding to in the work that spoke to that shared experience, did my kid remind her of hers? These days I'm trying to present the work without too much information and see what people make of it.
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Q: Anything else?
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TA: Then there is this other photographer who shared his work with me. He has an older son he had been photographing over the years. He photographed the boy when he was really young, and then a number of objects that related to him and the similarities between our two projects were pretty great I thought. I wanted to write about his work and he wrote a polite note back stating : " Your project is evolving in the shadow of a commercial photography blog and is being used as a tool that is pushing this commercial career. My son isn't a project, he is my little beloved boy and it's important that I protect him". That gave me something to think about.

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Q: Did it make you question your motives here?

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TA: It made me think about them. The one thing I return to is that it really is hard to make my son do something he might not want to do...like brush his teeth or something. But with these photographs he seems to summon up complete concentration, a very intense work ethic and collaboration above and beyond his years. Even if it lasts just 10 minutes.

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Q: Why do you think he can do it so well?

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TA: I think he knows we really need to make these pictures. This stuff is important to work thru and he knows we're not goofing around.

Practice

Hunters Point

Sitting in my mini van in a place called Hunters Point in San Francisco. It's 6:15am, its dark, there aren't even lights in the streets. I wanted to get the early morning light for some landscapes I need to shoot for a project I'm on for ESPN. It's way too early, it's total darkness, and it seems this mini van is just out of place. Halloween ghosts and skulls decorate a house here and there. It doesn't look good to me...it doesn't seem festive. Another white boy, age 40, in the bad neighborhood trying to get "the story".

The days are kind of an emotional blur as we work on this story: meeting these wonderful people that we seem to be able to relate to and hang with and photograph...so we have common ground, right? Almost. They seem to have to deal with Death in a way I never really ever have had to. They have jobs like mine and kids like mine, and then they have the Grim Reaper....who might be around any corner. Their kids are raised with the Grim Reaper. Death is a fundamental part of their life.

During the week we are shooting this story we are also putting together a more produced photograph for another magazine that involves a superstar pro athlete. We need a wardrobe stylist for the shoot, what about the catering, is he Vegan? I dunno....I'd love to dress him in all orange, it would look sweet against the white walls of the place. The contrast of the two shoots was just kind of jarring. I had to finish the Hunter's Point story and close the book in my mind before really addressing the Superstar Athlete shot. I could not multi task on this one.

Tom Friend is a great writer with ESPN whom I worked with once before. His stories are complex and human and family is often at the core of these tales. The story we worked on is HERE.

We Rigged A Strobe In The Roof

L-R: Olivia, Jon Olsson, and Jonathan of Jon Olsson Video Blog

We got the opportunity to shoot Superstar Free Skier Jon Olsson this past weekend for Outside Magazine. What to do? Olsson is a Swedish God incarnate, we knew he'd look great in every shot just by breathing, but the space we were shooting him in was just a bit challenging....and we are so into natural light and reflectors and the simple zen of picture making these days. Ahh....I just don't know what to do.

Trapeze Artist Chris Johnston rigging our light

Poling and Archibald got in on Saturday to try to figure it all out. We are kinda low tech by nature...even these complex photo illustrations we do are all pretty low tech. Today we geek out and do the following: take a Quantum wedding photographer strobe, attach it to an elbow, stick that on a c-stand nuckle, attach that to a large C clamp. Tape a radio slave onto the strobe, set it on " M", and attach the turbo battery to the unit with a fabric loop. Wrap it all in tape. Tie it to a rope and hand it to Trapeze Artist Chris Johnston who pulls it up on the rope as if he were ascending half dome. He clamps it in place. Is this gonna work? Yes! But the light is too harsh, bad shadows everywhere. Poling has him mount a white vinyl control panel 3 feet in front of the strobe. He tapes it to a beam in the ceiling. It works. The gods of photo geekdom have smiled. Still gotta make the shot the next day though. Olsson and crew arrive on Sunday, a gracious swedish mythological figure and his posse.

Olsson has a popular video blog and the next morning, boom, there was our shoot to re-live.
See it HERE.

Johnston and Poling aligning the scrim as we test the strobe