Negative space
It seems I have had nothing to say for awhile, so I hope you appreciate that I did not feel compelled to write something just to fill a blog entry. The term itself reveals its dispensable nature. Blog: A blah log. Take it or leave it, yadda yadda. Yet while nothing much has been happening to me of general interest, babies were being made and born. Great minds and bodies have gone to rest. Wars have been fought. Spectacular sporting events have taken place. Lovers have found one another, or bid one another adieu. All the while, our world spun relentlessly, edging toward its demise. I say our world because there are undoubtedly others out there in the vast reaches of the universe. We are significant, but in miniature.
Too much to contemplate? Then turn inward and start there.
We started in space and as a photographer I pay close attention to it. In the studio, I start every session by setting my camera so that no ambient light encroaches. I then add light to carve out my subject and transmit my vision.
The word photographer means a person who writes with light. The only light I want in a scene is the light I put there, or allow in. Without darkness there is no definition to light; It’s just a blob of energy. Light needs dark to reveal itself.
My photography lately has been workman-like. I made some headshots of three lawyers for a marketing brochure. I made some portraits of an amateur ballroom dancer and her professional partner. I grabbed some snapshots at Argentine tango practices and parties. And I shot some personal photos, seen here, of a friend’s expansive garden. The work was good enough but it’s not the stuff of dreams. There was no Mona Lisa in the bunch; no Monet’s garden. Nor should there have been. It was journalism. In French, Arthur Schopenhauer wrote, the term means day labor. It is the lowest form of writing. And yet, journalism has brought kings to their knees and presidents to ignominy.
Daniel Norton, a New York photographer and educator, suggests making time at the end of commercial photo sessions for some personal experiments. Many will fail. But that is the negative space against which art might emerge.
One of my tango teachers recently showed me a print that another student had given her. It was a simple black and white photo of some leaves. We stood before it for a moment and I realized that the composition is what made the image work. The light traveled along the shadows of the leaves, tracing a golden spiral. I left her home refreshed, eager to get to work.
House detail, south Minneapolis, Minnesota.
