Defining Personal Vision In Photography

Photography is to seeing as poetry is to writing.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about personal vision as it applies to photography. 

I think it was Chuck Close that said photography is the most difficult craft to have a distinct, personal vision (paraphrasing). Few truer words have ever been spoken. Photography is ubiquitous, easy to copy or emulate, and influence is incessant. It’s almost impossible to say that you’re doing something original in photography. However, I believe that you can find your vision to say or ask something new within that framework.

John "Nemo" Nemerovski - Whole Plate Alumitype - August 2012For those of you that have read what I’ve written in the past, or have heard a lecture or a talk about my work, you know that I’m a firm believer in context and intention. In other words, if you have context and intention for your work, you’ve started the journey on defining a personal photographic vision or style. 

There are no hard and fast rules, no gospel, if you will, about all of this. It’s simply opinion. Some opinions ring more true or valid than others for me. I believe that if you begin with context and intention, meaning you’ve done the intellectual work for the images, and you’ve found a deep well to draw from, you are well on your way to articulating what’s important, meaningful or serious about your work. Along with that, you’re defining your personal vision. 

When I started making images for my project, “Portraits from Madison Avenue”, I had already explored a lot of the questions that drove the work. What I didn’t realize is that what I was doing was defining why I make photographs, or defining my personal, distinct vision – both aesthetically and intellectually. My work on that project began many, many years ago (1980s). One of the reasons I never fully articulated what the work was about rested in the aesthetics. It was Wet Collodion that gave me the visual building blocks and metaphors to dig deep in the project and fully bring the ideas and aesthetics to the public in a real way.

I had, from the beginning, wanted to achieve four things with my portraiture work. The first thing was to create portraits that were “temporally confusing”. That means photographs that are timeless, or blur the line between historical and contemporary imagery. I wanted to infuse the idea of memory, or my memories and questions, into the images through the aesthetic. The second thing was to create photographs that were “ghostly”, or disturbing and attractive all at once. I wanted the viewer to feel the presence of the sitter in the photograph. The third requirement was to create photographs that had a unique signature through the use of very shallow depth of field, anathema to the 19th Century aesthetic, and unique lighting – a Caravaggio aesthetic – if you will.  And the last item, but not the least in any sense, was the person I photographed. I only photographed people with a unique (sometimes very subtle) look and an interesting story. All of these elements came together with the Wet Collodion process and I pursued it with everything I had. 

It was somewhere between 2005 and 2006, that I first saw work similar to mine begin to appear online. At that time, I was almost finished with the project. I had the first exhibition of the work in March, 2006. People started asking me if it upset me. It did. It wasn’t because I had a copyright on the look and feel I was using, but because I knew the work I was seeing lacked personal (distinct) vision. They hadn’t done their intellectual work; there was no context or intention. They were simply copying an aesthetic to use to make portraits that looked “cool”. This was the beginning of what has turned into hundreds and hundreds of portraits that look like my style; there’s a plethora of photographers making portraits very similar to mine today. Every once in a while I’ll get an email with an attachment asking me about how I made the portrait (attached in the email) and it’s not my photograph. So now, my work gets in the long line of the “Collodion Mug Shots”. And if you don’t take the time to read about my work (my statements) and how I’ve defined my personal vision, I get lost in the shuffle. 

I completely agree with Chuck Close. It's very difficult to define a personal style or vision in photography. If/When you do, I suggest you defend that vision. Make sure people understand that you have context and intention with the work, and that you’ve done the intellectual work. In other words, stand your ground, be proud of what you’ve done. So few can really do it.

Mt Evans Wet Collodion Workshop

The first Wet Collodion Field Workshop to Mount Evans, Colorado was a great success! We just returned from a 14,000 feet/4.000 meters Collodion extraviganza. 

Studio Q had a small group of newcomers and experienced Collodionists travel to Mt Evans, Colorado for a day of plate making. At that elevation and with that extreme light, it took a plate or two to adjust. But when they did, there were some spectacluar images made. In fact, one of the park rangers was suggesting we have an exhibition up there. Between the landscapes and the bristlecone trees, it would be an amazing show.

The crew getting setup - Mt Evans, Colorado.

Enough said....

 Looking toward Chicago Lakes...

A Kevin Devine joint. Super! This has got William Henry Jackson written all over it!

Mt Evans & Squaw Pass Day Trip

Jeanne and I spent yesterday in the thin air of the Colorado mountains. The temp was 99F/38C in the city (Denver) and 50F/10C at the top of Mt Evans. It is 14,000 feet/4.000m above sea level. It started to sleet/slush/rain when we were at the top. It's the monsoon season, so you have to go early. We'll leave the studio next Saturday morning at 0600. That will give us several good hours of making photographs.

The place is stunning and mind boggling all at once. We drove the longest/highest paved road in North America to get there. The drive was fun! A lot of it looks like what I would imagine some distant planet might resemble. Very few plants or animals can survive at that elevation - no trees - only small plants and grass. It's brutal! Jeanne and I were climbing over over some huge rocks to do some photos and I was instantly winded. There's not much oxygen at 14,000 feet. It freaked me out a little bit. I need to remember to move slower next Saturday.

The Collodion was thicker and dried faster up there. The UV was off of the charts. I was making exposures of one to three seconds with my lens stopped down to f/7 and f/22 respectively. My face got sunburned too. I thought living at 5,200 ft was intense, at 11,000 and 14,000 the sun seems overwhelming. It would be nice to work with f/32 and f/64 that way, you could do several second exposures and make some really nice photographs. One more thing, I was using old Collodion, too. I'm not sure you could get an exposure there with new Collodion unless you had a shutter. Stop action Collodion photography at 14,000 feet! 

It costs $10 to enter - well worth every penny!

Quinn stunned at the beauty of Squaw Pass - 11,500 ft. photo by Jeanne Jacobson.

 Looking over Squaw Pass - 11,500 ft - unbelievably beautiful.

On the other side - Squaw Pass, 11,500 ft.

If you look close, you can see the mountain sheep eating at the patches of grass and relaxing as an (almost) snow/sleet storm comes in - it feels like Mars at the top.

Quinn and Jeanne at the top of Mount Evans!! Quick, get us some oxygen!!
Colorado has some Bristlecones that are almost 2000 years old! The Bristlecone pine tree is the oldest single living organism on earth. It has the ability to live up to 5000 years. This is in Goliath Park.

Publications Summer 2012

I have work that's going to be published in the following magazines this summer:

View Camera (US/Global)

Eyemazing (Europe)

5280 Magazine (Denver, Colorado)

Where Colorado (Western US)

Please keep your eye out for them - I'm not sure what issues, etc. They are all great publications. If you can, please support them and pick up a copy! 

Returning From Paris and Reflecting

Paris, France
It’s five o’clock in the morning. I woke up at four o’clock this morning. I flew into Denver late last night from Paris. I’ll be on this “adjustment rollercoaster” (up early and tired early) for a few days. It’s also known as jet-lag. Fun.

Télérama spot - this brought people in for portraits - full days!

It was a good trip. This was our second one in less than sixty days! Taxing and tiring to say the least. It was a lot of work and a lot of fun. It is bitter-sweet when these exhibitions end. I’m glad it’s over but it’s sad at the same time.

Wet Plate Collodion: The Past, Present & Future
As I sit here in the quiet this morning and see the Facebook posts and read my email, I find myself thinking how fortunate I was to start working in Wet Plate Collodion when I did. It’s a madhouse out there now. Truly a head-spinning environment - so many people posting “their first plate” and “look how big” etc.  – it’s emotionally draining to me. The competition grows everyday for a place at the Collodion table and there’s simply not enough room.

At some point, it will melt down and everything will even out again. Let’s talk in ten years and see who’s doing what. Most will fade away, I’ve seen it before and it will happen again. There will be less than a handful that make serious work with the process or accomplish anything significant with it. That’s how it unfolds.

My Wet Collodion CV
Over the past 10 years, I’ve accomplished a lot in this small, niche world of historic processes. My biggest accomplishment, and the one I’m most proud of, is that I created three bodies of work that were all exhibited in Paris and all received high marks from the viewing audience there.

2003 – 2006: “Portraits from Madison Avenue” (America)
2006 – 2010: “Vergangenheitsbewältigung” (Europe)
2011 – 2012: “The American West Portraits” (America)

Most artist/photographers would give their left eye to simply visit Paris let alone have a gallery, exhibitions and good representation there. I was told by the gallery owner on Saturday that my show, “The American West Portraits” ranked number one for seven weeks in the photography shows of Paris (Télérama). That’s amazing, I’m proud and honored. How can you feel “unaccomplished” with those kinds of things in your life? Not only did I exhibit there, I also made hundreds of commissioned portraits and taught several workshops; including Collodion negatives and printing (Albumen, Salt and Collodion Chloride).

I’m also very proud of the fact that I was instrumental in reviving the Wet Collodion Process in Europe. My five years (2006 – 2011) of traveling and teaching has spurred on a resurgence of the process that would have not happened without my efforts. My wife, Jeanne, and daughter, Summer made all of that possible. We worked hard and had a lot of fun, but we also changed the direction of photography there (in this context) by doing what we did. As with all educators, you get lost and replaced over time. In other words, the people you teach will teach and so on and so forth. That’s okay, it’s the natural evolution of things. The important thing is to remember the contributions, not simply the teaching of the process. That’s what I’m referring to here. My influence not only taught people the process, but it built community. You would have never seen Wet Collodion at Foire de Bievres (nor even heard of it) or had the Collodion parties and community assemblies without my years there.

Over the years, I’ve written three books about the process, too.

2006: The Contemporary Wet Plate Collodion Experience
2007: Conferring Importance; Thoughts on Identity, Memory and Difference
2009: Chemical Pictures (revised in 2010 and 2011) with DVD and Online Video Workshop

And the final entry in my Collodion CV would be The Archer Project (2010). I spent fourteen months and a lot of money to honor Frederick Scott Archer with a custom plaque citing his invention of the Wet Plate Collodion process. If you ever visit his grave in the Kensal Green Cemetery in London, you’ll see the fruits of that labor. The Collodion Collective that I put together was made up of a couple of British blokes; Carl Radford and John Brewer, but the bigger body consisted of 51 Collodionists from around the world contributing a plate to honor Archer.  Although I had to take on the majority of the financial burden, I have no regrets and wear the effort as a badge of honor to Archer and to this wonderful process.

Reflection & The Future
When endings come in your life, like this show ending for me, you tend to reflect on what you’ve done and ask questions. And you end up in a state of melancholy – you go as low as your highest point was high – it’s tough.

I’m unsure of what’s next. Or if there will even be a next. That’s where I am now. Time will tell. I’ll take some time to rest and think it all through. However, should it end tomorrow, I’m very pleased and very proud of what I’ve done over the last decade. Thanks to all the people in my life that make it possible for me to do what I do. I love you and am eternally grateful for your presence in my life, these are your accomplishments, too.