Kat Eye Studio

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The Tao of Photography

I’m a bit sad this morning, because I finished a good book, Tao of Photography: Seeing Beyond Seeing. I enjoy my contemplative reading in the morning, with a cup of Hot Cinnamon Spice tea. It’s even better when it’s an inspirational book related to photography like this one. I hated to see it end.

The book equated what the authors call “conscious camerawork” with the principles of the Taoist philosophies of Chuang-Tzu. While I have not studied these principles before, I have found that my approach to photography fits much of what they describe: Photography as a way to be more conscious in the world; a way to be in the moment, even a form of meditation.

I’ve thought of photography as meditation before. I’ve tried traditional meditation once or twice, attempted to sit and clear my mind of thoughts, but did not have much success. Yet when I am in the moment with my camera, my mind is clear. My presence is wholly there. I see things differently. Ordinary can become extraordinary.

Case in point, this image showing the detail of a painted newspaper box contrasted with a tile wall. It took working the scene with my camera to notice the details of the handpainting. To see the contrast of the color, the lines and the textures. A moment of meditation, finding an amazing detail in the every day world. How had I not seen this before? I had walked by here many times.

For me, photography is more about process than end result. I hesitate to admit the number of photos I take and don’t review. Or if I review, I don’t edit. Why? Because I got what I needed from the process at the time of capture. A brief moment of intentional consciousness, provided by the process of photography. That I get some wonderful images out of that process is a huge bonus, but not always the goal.

Tao of Photography talks a little bit about this, near the end:

Shocking as it may sound at first, the art of living and the meaning of life both lie in the sheer experience of beingness, and can be reached by simply allowing oneself to be and to relax into the ceaseless process of life. When a photographer comes to experience the intrinsic existential richness and beauty of life by practicing conscious camerawork, the goals of achieving artistic “perfection” and “immortality” may lose some of their appeal.

Maybe this is part of what I’m looking for with the photo-heart connection. It’s not about the end result, a perfect image, but the way I feel all the way through.

What about you? Is photography about process or end result for you?

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A Visual History Lesson

Where did we get our collective photographic vision? Have you ever thought about that? It comes from the images we see every day. It comes from the photographers who came before us. They paved the way. So many photographers braved the criticism of being different to change and expand the visual language that we all use so easily today.

On Saturday, as part of an “art outing” in Portland, I visited an exhibition of 48 of Robert Frank’s polaroids, from the 1970’s to the present. The polaroids were slightly enlarged prints of polaroids, maybe six inches (15mm) on a side. The subject matter might be considered mundane… a tea cup on a table, a plant in a window, a tree in a parking lot. The type of thing that can be seen on instagram every day. So why is this exhibit important?

Robert Frank’s work is significant because he expanded the accepted view of photography, starting with his groundbreaking work The Americans in 1955. It was much criticized upon its release for it’s casual, snapshot-ish style of photography and the unvarnished view of American life. He view was different than the currently accepted point of view at the time – both what a photograph should look like and how America should be viewed. This polaroid exhibit is no different. He shares a different view on photography, and everyday life, in his images. There’s a great article in the Portland Oregonian on this exhibit and Frank’s influence on photography.

Visiting this exhibit led me to learn more about why this photographer matters. It helped me learn a little bit more about the history of photography, how we came to the visual language of today. I can see the impact of Frank’s vision, in my own work and all around me. His work has influenced us all, and we probably didn’t even know it. This is how I like to learn about art history, a little bit at a time, by seeing the work – in person – and then learning more. The knowledge sticks with me in a stronger, more visceral way than if I read it in a book.

Seeing and studying this exhibit reminded me I had seen another exhibit of Robert Frank’s work at the Tate Modern in London a while back. The exhibit was a selection of contact prints from the 28,000 photographs Frank took on his roadtrip across the US, 83 of which eventually made it into The Americans.

The memory of that exhibit came back to me strongly this week. It was a powerful experience, to be able to see the raw material of another photographer, a groundbreaking photographer. Most of the time, we only see the finished work. We don’t get to see what went into making it, all of the concepts tried and rejected. What resonated with me was how he studied a subject for three or four frames and moved on. A few compositions, different orientations, and then he was on to the next subject. It’s very similar to how I photograph, and that was validating.

I also love that he culled his images down from 28,000 to 83 for the book. To do that, he had to be relentless in defining and refining his vision for the project. I believe we can learn from this too. We can improve our photography by whittling down to our very best.

As I learned more about Frank this week, I’m reminded that there is so much to learn from the photographers who have come before us. I don’t think I’ll embark on a big project of studying photographic history, that’s not my style. But I’ll keep learning – one article, one exhibit, one experience at a time.

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Scooter Sightings: Pink 50 Special

This scooter sighting digs back into my archives, from a little town of Vigevano, outside of Milan. I think this may be the only pink scooter I captured during my time in Italy! Isn’t it a great color?

As I was looking at it with my son yesterday morning, we remembered another story that involved pink from Vigevano. After exploring the town, we stopped for gelato on our walk back to the car. Patrick was enticed by the delightful pink color of a certain gelato, Pompelmo Rosa. Not knowing much Italian at the time, we had no idea that “pompelmo rosa” means “pink grapefruit.” It was the most horrible tasting gelato ever. We all had to try it, just to see what he was complaining about. He learned his lesson – you don’t pick gelato by color alone!

Picking scooters by color, however, is an entirely different story.

Here’s another scooter sighting, shared with me from Kim in Australia. She saw this cute Vespa in a store in Akaora, New Zealand, and thought of me. Thanks Kim!!

If you have a scooter sighting, take a pic and email it to me! I’d love to share your scooter sighting here.

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Putting Myself In The Picture

While I love capturing the world around me, I hate being in front of the camera. Hate it. That’s why it’s with some tredipation and fear that I join in with Urban Muser’s In The Picture project this year, gently exploring self portraiture.

I have noticed I carry a lot of biases about self-portraiture. I could list many reasons that I have kept myself out of the picture in the past. But they are all just a protective facade, designed to keep me safely away from images of myself. What am I trying to avoid?

I guess this year, I’ll find out. One image at a time.

A self-portrait opportunity presented itself to me on Saturday, while at the Portland Art Museum. I was in the Contemporary Art Gallery when I noticed the light. The sun had come out, after a rainy morning, and I loved the interplay between the light and the art. I started to capture this painting, Green One by Pat Steir, when I realized the gallery was empty, and there was plenty of space to work. I set up my camera, grabbed my remote and captured a few frames.

It’s a safe start, I must admit. I’m abstracted, a silhouette. To an outside observer, the image is not about me as much as it is about a person interacting with art, with the light. I could have taken this of anyone.

But it is about me, to me. About my love of art and painting, about being in an environment that allows me to enjoy it. The image becomes more personal, more meaningful.

Maybe that’s the point of self-portraiture? I’m not sure. It’s going to take a while to work through my biases and figure out this whole genre of photography, and how it fits for me. This is the start.

In The Picture

PS – A word about this gorgeous painting! It was so full of texture and subtle color, it is no wonder it caught my eye in the light. You can find out more about Pat Steir and her work here.

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Boy in the Morning

My boy, early in the morning.

As we snuggled on the couch this morning to keep warm, the soft light and shadows inspired me to grab my camera and convince him to sit still for a moment or two. This doesn’t happen often these days. When he was little, he was my main subject but at some point he got tired of the mamarazzi and put his foot down. He was done having his picture taken. That’s when I began to explore other subjects to improve my photography skills, opening up a new and different world. The world you see most of the time around here.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to capture him. His growth, who he is. He’s at the cusp of teenager-hood, making his own choices. Listening obsessively to pop music, growing his hair out (my one condition: he must keep it clean) and playing computer games.

But… he’s still my boy, for this brief moment, early in the morning.

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Come Visit!

I’m over at Shutter Sisters today, with a guest post sharing the Photo-Heart Connection. I’m excited to have the chance to guest post there, and to share this project with more photographers. I would love to have you come visit.

Have you been thinking about your Photo-Heart Connection more this month, since I announced the project? I have. I’m looking more closely, more critically at each photo. Not to see what is technically right or wrong, but to notice how I feel. That’s a very good thing.

Today’s photo is from our recent snowstorm. I don’t know what it is, but there is always something about a lone tree image that gets me, right in the heart.