I love to look back at my photos and think about where I took them and who was with me at the time. Each photo is an instant flash back to (mostly) wonderful memories. This past week on G+ I have been sharing the few Lego photos I took while in Iceland last year. Looking at them today takes me immediately back there and I experience the exhilaration over again.
For me photography has always been a form of documentation; be it my emotions, my family or an unusually viewpoint of a particular place. It may not seem like one, but my photography is a visual journal of my day to day life.
I have always travelled with my Lego mini figures and my photographs represent the places I have been. Since this is on a micro scale a specific place may be difficult to identify. As the colors and textures of places differ, it is interesting to see those differences in the final shots. This can be especially obvious when viewed as a group.
I am curious how you view your photography.
What role does it play in your life? Is it a book in the making? Is it a documentation of your everyday life? Is it reaction to world events around you?
Magic realism or magical realism is a genre where magical or unreal elements play a natural part in an otherwise realistic (often mundane) environment. Although it is most commonly used as a literary genre, magic realism also applies to film and the visual arts.
I recently started reading the latest Murakami novel, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage, and it felt like putting on a my favorite coat. It was a happy comfortable feeling; almost like coming home and naturally it got me thinking.
I understand why in “Steal Like an Artist” the author talks about the importance of side projects. Not only can they give creative inspiration to your work, but they can help you understand what you are doing and why. Connect the dots, so to speak. I am attracted to magical realism across multiple disciplines and it makes sense that I would want to recreate that feeling in my own work. I find it comforting that my artistic insanity is consistent.
In my opinion the Lego mini figure is well suited to this goal of magical realism. For many of us it has an instant connection to childhood memories as well as a place in our present lives. To have a toy that is so imbued with instant emotions, then free it from those boundaries and place it in unexpected location is a powerful tool. I want to help my viewer (and myself) to reclaim that sense of wonder and innocence that we associate with childhood. By placing the mini figure in unusual situations, I hope it will gain an aspect of magical realism that only comes from having a foot in two different worlds at the same time, the past and the present.
It is important to me that my Lego friends inhabit my world, not a world down a rabbit hole or a world created by someone else. I want them to be of my world, just a better, more magical version of my world.
I dislike this quote. It simplifies a very complex equation into a convenient sound bite.
The first problem is the assumption that a creative individual wants money and their passion to be intertwined. It’s a nice thought, but money changes everything. Just ask Michelangelo. Do you think the Sistine Chapel would have been painted if Pope Julius II hadn’t commissioned it? He was a sculptor, not a painter. But that is what happens when money changes hands.
Second it presumes that success and money are synonymous. In an age when the arts and crafts are barely supported by the establishment we need to find a measure of success other than money. In the world of Instagram and Flickr where success is seen in terms of likes, followers and comments is this really enough of a metric? I don’t know, but I doubt it.
I was showing my photography to a new contact the other day and their immediate response was “I hope you’re making money off of those!” I know he meant this as a compliment, but I couldn’t help being annoyed with a world that equates success with money.
So in the absence of a large benefactor like The Church, BigInc or a wealthy patron we need to look for another way to measure an artists success (or failure). In a world that does not value photography or photographers with money, we need to develop new metrics; whether they be rooted in social media or preferably the real world.
I’ve been watching documentaries again, this time it was Cave of Forgotten Dreams. This interesting documentary by Werner Herzog is about the relatively recently discovered Chauvet Cave in southern France that contains some of the oldest human-painted images ever discovered. These rock paintings were created approximately 32,000 years ago. It was a good documentary and considering the subject matter it was actually riveting; I recommend it.
Why do I bring this up now? How is this relevant to our discussions on “Why”? In all our conversations we have never mentioned legacy or more specifically immortality. One day we will all become dust or random particles. Depending on your beliefs you may return as another life form, you will pass on to another plane of existence or simply stop existing. What ever your beliefs, our time on earth is short and mostly inconsequential.
For me the desire to create has many different facets. I am driven by my inner voice to create much the same way my ancestors were driven to create their rock paintings. I want to use my art to connect with other people. This can be as simple as a brief interaction on IG or an in person meeting that has turned into a friendship. I am also arrogant enough to want to leave my mark on this earth; sort of like my initials carved into a tree or a painting in a cave.
As my husband is fond of pointing out, I have met all my current friends through the internet. (Ok, maybe not quite all, I think there are one or two that I actually met in person through some long lost job or my kids school.) But by and large, the majority are people I have collected in my social media journey. They are a large and diverse group and they are all precious to me. This is what drives me.
So I will keep creating, I will keep reaching out to meet new people and I will keep trying to make my mark on this complicated world we live in.
If you are curious about the concept of Immortality I highly recommend a book of the same name by Milan Kundera. An excellent read for the artist and non-artist alike.‘
Challenging myself is a continuing theme in my writing.
Earlier this summer I challenged myself with a rather large project and set Christmas as the deadline. Time (and good weather) is running out and I need to buckle down and get the rest of my photos shot if I am going to make this lofty goal.
Yesterday was one of those wonderful days where I finally nailed a pivotal photo I have been chasing all summer. My earlier frustrations have been a combination of poor planning and lousy locations. But yesterday the weather was good, the kids were gone and I had no good excuses left to avoid this shot. I have learned that pre planning is everything. I have had enough experience with all that has gone wrong that I felt I was ready for success. By building the set before hand all I had to do was drop it into the location and shoot away. This way, all I had to concentrate on was lighting and camera angles, not the subjects floating away.
I thought I would give you a behind the scenes glimpse into what that photographic journey has looked like. Now I have to get going on the rest of the photos…
Lower Snoqualmie Falls, June 2014
Lake Washington, August 2014
Puget Sound, September 2014
Magnuson Park, October 2014
The lesson here is if at first you don’t succeed, try and try again.
I am heading home after a five day adventure in the Moab region of Utah. Four of those days involved photographing lego with decidedly mixed results. I realized I was outside my comfort zone shooting in harsh light, with rocks and sparse vegetation as my only textures. Photographing in the lush Pacific Northwest with its mossy rocks and dappled sunlight seems like a walk in the park by comparison.
I love this area for its grand views, it’s sure subtlety of color and apocalyptic nature. But how in the world do I translate that to the macro world?
Let’s just say I struggled with decidedly mixed results. But isn’t that the nature of growth, to challenge ourselves? To learn from our mistakes? To play outside our comfort zone? I’m very excited by tomorrow’s guest post. He’s an artist that continually challenges himself with different techniques and also challenges the viewer with his message.
Writer Henry James once proposed three questions you could productively put to an artists work. The first two were disarmingly straightforward: What was the artist trying to achieve? Did he/she succeed? The third`s a zinger: Was it worth doing?
excerpt from Art & Fear
And that is the crux of the problem right there. I think I ask myself this question in some way everyday. Art isn’t about making pretty pictures, it’s not about perfect technique…art needs to go behind that.
Certainly by embracing a small plastic toy peddled by one of the largest toy companies in the world makes me suspect my own abilities to move beyond these impediments. How do you challenge the status quo or capture a moment in time when you are essentially free advertising for Big inc.
Would i be willing to exhibit my work in boardroom of an ethically compromise company like Shell Oil? Honestly I don’t know? I’d like to think I have high moral standards, but I’m a realist. Would it move my work to the next level? Could the work be a form of protest? Could I generate controversy and get the work to a larger audience? Or am I just fooling myself and selling myself to the highest bidder?
Right now I know I’m not challenging myself enough in terms of content. I’ve achieved my original technical goals and can confidently capture whatever scene I set up. But it’s time for me to take the next step and challenge both myself and the viewer.
When I look at a finished image I want to be able to answer “Yes” when I ask that third question: “Was it worth doing?”
It is hard to put yourself forward as an artist. It can be an emotional and ego busting experience. You are displaying something that is often intensly personal and you don’t know how it will be perceived. Will it be appreciated, criticized or ignored?
But that is not the only risk in our newly minted uber connected world. Information flows quickly on the internet, copyright has very little meaning and appropriation is the order of the day. As an artist it can be disheartening to see your work end up in the wrong place with no attribution. Another all too real risk is the overly enthusiastic fan or even worse the outright thief.
What do you do if you are the Jedi with a Padawan walking too closely in your footsteps? I was reading through “Steal Like an Artist” (again) and came across a great quote that in my mind deals with this beautifully:
Complain about the way other people make software by making software.
Andre Torrez
In short…get busy. The truly creative artists who have the perseverance to stay in the game for the long haul will always be one step ahead of the Padawans. There is really no reason to dwell on what can’t be changed, the Padawans will always be there. But how you move forward with your own work will separate you as the true Jedi.
I have a hard time separating my artistic life from my every day life. The overlap is so great it can be hard to differentiate. I don’t need to be a good artist to be an engaged mother or visa versa. But sometimes my two selves come together in unexpected ways.
A few weeks ago my kids and I took a road trip to Portland, Oregon to visit my brother-in-law who is working there for a couple of months. We decided to meet at the Portland Japanese Garden a place none of us had been before. My son and I were awe struck the instant we arrived.
We were the worst guests possible as we excitedly pointed out that cool bamboo fence, were awe struck by the amazing water features, admired the use of white crushed rocks, checked out the incredibly pruned Japanese maple trees or exclaimed at the reflections on the water. You get the idea.
Did I tell you about the moss? OMG, the moss! Entire carpets of the lovely stuff…under trees, growing on rocks, growing everywhere! The garden is a beautiful, serene and wonderfully spiritual place. It is one that both Noah and I want to go back to and view during the different seasons. There is much to explore in this truly special place and we babbled about it all the way home.
The next day Noah and I started transforming our own backyard into a mini Japanese garden. We trimmed trees, pruned shrubs, hacked at vines and created a nearly blank slate to work from. We also hauled bags and bags of debris out of our yard. Then we scampered off to the nursery for moss and shade plants to help us realize our vision.
We still have to add a few rocks for accent, build bamboo fencing (harvested from our own bamboo) and create paths to protect our existing moss. But we are on our way. Of course we will need to be patient, it is going to take a few years for this project to start taking shape. But we are the patient types.
You are probably wondering what this has to do with my photography. In addition to exploring my city through macro photography I also take many of my Lego photos in my own yard. I consider our hard efforts in the last few weeks as an investment in my own personal outdoor photo studio. Maybe a little more curated than it once was, but there will still be plenty of lovely moss and rocks to create interesting set ups.
And like all art projects, we are taking the long view.
A little souvenir we picked up at the gift shop nestled in some freshly planted moss.
What was your favorite photographic related memory from this summer?
Do you plan your photos hours, days or years in advance?
The other day I was feeling my usual bout of anxiety and doubt… Why am I doing this? My work is crap! You know, that kind of stuff. So I turned to my trusty copy of “Art and Fear” to find some words of consolation. I found words of encouragement and so much more.
In particular this passage really struck a cord:
That’s also to say that usually – but not always – the piece you produce tomorrow will be shaped, purely and simply, by the tools you hold in your hand today.
Art and Fear
Of course the author was thinking more along the lines of painting materials like egg tempera, oils and acrylics. But can’t the same analogy be made for the rise of toy photography?
We are surrounded by plastic toys in the form of cheap imports from China, give aways at restaurants, movie tie ins and of course whatever we might have saved from our own childhoods. It seems that with all of these toys clambering for our attention something was bound to happen.
When the ubiquitous camera phone was combined with social media (especially Instagram), a movement was born. I know we are a niche group, and a small one at that, but the creativity exhibited by some of these photographers is awe inspiring. There is craftsmanship, social awareness and special effects being employed to create some very memorable images.
Are there other influences that have created and shaped this toy photography movement?
