A Harry Callahan Kinda Love

The divine Donald Diddams (I am working out his nickname- 3D, Triple D, Divine Double D but am verging on Victoria’s Secrets so have to decide on just one) raised an issue on his blog about the cross pollination of  influences we all have when making “aahrt” in this global, internet age.  We are a click away from someone else’s vision and does it homogenize our view or expand it?

Recently, I went to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston and saw three exhibits that triggered my creativity button.  I’ve already blogged about Luis Melendez and posted some images here and here which I did after seeing his exhibit.   You can view pieces from this exhibit( and two others I’ll talk about) on this website, arttattler.com.

After viewing some of Melendez’s images,  I think you’ll agree that no one would look at my images and say, “Damn, that’s a Luis Melendez’s knock-off!”  (I wish, btw.  I friggin’ wish.)

But, what I took away was being in the presence of an artist with great love of his subject.  A subject, I share in common with him.  Does it sound too goofy to say after viewing his still-lifes, I wanted to love my subject just a bit more passionately?  If this is cribbing, bring me more of it and if some skill comes with it, so much the better.

But, today, it’s Harry Callahan, an American Photographer, whose work was also on display and some of his images I actually have in my own portfolio.  What?  Yes, images taken by me but images he would recognize.  The one posted is exhibit A.  Was it taken by Mr. Callahan. No.  Had I seen Mr. Callahan’s work when I took it?  No.  But when I saw his images, I did a double-take.  I thought he might have been under the same tree in England,  He displayed multiple frames of his tree.  All of them were different angles from this image.   I took this many years ago, so many years ago that it was in slide form and I had to scan it into digital form.

This exhibit would also be affirming to Razzbuffnik as I saw several of his shots in the Callahan exhibit also.  On the arttattler.com, it is the street scene of a woman passing him.  It looked the black and white version of many street scenes Razz has taken, most recently on his recent trip to Europe, Spain and Portugal.  You can view several of Razz’s street images HERE.

I think my Lucy five cents on this topic of cross-pollination is that while we may stand under the same tree, or walk on the same streets, or strand of beach, what we shoot is invariably different.  Our own personalities cannot be “lifted” either consciously or unconsciously.  But, our love of our subject can grow more passionate by viewing other artists’ work..

The image from the Callahan’s exhibit that has caused me the most reflection can be seen HERE.   Those familiar with this blog know I am totally taken with the architecture of Queen Anne’s Lace in all four seasons.  I know I shall be visiting them soon with this image in mind.

And, Divine Triple D, I think that’s a very very good thing, as Martha would say.

Here’s what Harry Callahan said about the subject:

In order to make a statement about one’s photography, there should be some statement about oneself. I started photography as a hobbyist in 1938 at the age of 26.  I had had no formal training.  In 1941, as a member of the Detroit Photo Guild, I saw and recognized for the first time some fine photography by Ansel Adams.  This was a revelation.  It led me to search out my own way of photographing intuitively.  Searching and stumbling revealed to me that my photography would be one of continual change.

That about covers it, 3D, don’t you think?

Let’s raise our glasses for a toast.

(sounds of “tap tap tap” on a crystal glass)

“Here’s to MORE Pollination!.”

(sounds of bees buzzing and/or mouse clicks)

©Pat Coakley 2010.

PHOTOGRAPHY CANNOT BE USED WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION

**Select photographs from this blog and my wider archive can be purchased at www.patcoakley.com

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Have Mercy

Now I lay me down to sleep with Luis Melendez’s still life images in my head.

I came home from this exhibit at the MFA this afternoon  and opened the refrigerator and said, ” Let me at those grapes and bean sprouts and see what I can do!”

This is it and I’m going to use it for my image on Part II of “Fattiness”, started this morning but to be finished in the next couple of days.

But, for now, I post it as an excuse to tell you that I saw painting talent today that made me want to burst into tears or eat his canvas whole.

He died a pauper.

People, there is no justice in this world.  None.

Good night.

©Pat Coakley 2010

PHOTOGRAPHS CANNOT BE USED WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION

**select photographs from this blog and my wider archive are  available for purchase at www.patcoakley.com

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The Territory of Our In-Between

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I listened to an interview with the writer, Sherman Alexie, the other day and he talked about artists living in the “in-between”.  In his case, he identifies this as the territory of truths inbetween being an indigenous Native American and an immigrant to the colonists’ culture that took power.

Blew me down, this idea.  Not only this explanation of his own “in-between” status but attributing it to the territory of every artist.

So, to conclude my week-long, “The Growing Season Ends, The Series”  on Singular Sensation, my photo blog on all things flowers, plants and often peevish photography tips, the byline of which is “breaking photographic rules lowers your cholesterol”, I got out my wide angle lens and put it on the ground (thank-you, Razz) and shot upward to show the spaces in-between the dessicated Queen Anne’s Lace stems and blossoms along the pond, a territory of truths that is mine for some (as yet) unknown reason.

I began the series to demonstrate through one subject (Queen Anne’s Lace) that when the growing season ends, a photographer’s growth can just begin.

This is a perfect thought to end the series and one that I thought belongs on SFAR as well.

So, one for two, today.  And, do yourself a favor, listen to that interview with Sherman Alexie (linked above) and Eleanor Wachtel of “Writer’s and Company”.

You won’t be sorry.

©Pat Coakley 2009

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Talk, Listen, Sing-AFTER THE MUSEUM, THE SERIES

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Tap. Tap. Tap.

Class?  Attention, please.

Please raise your hand if you pay a deductible on any insurance policy you have?

Can you see me?  I have two hands raised.  One for my car and home insurance policy and the other for my medical insurance (it’s called co-pay).

Ok.  So far so good.

Now, we think once again about “moral hazard”.

We know the term from attempts to manage this colossal f up in the financial global world which surfaced a year ago, September ’08.  We know now it started right here in the US of A with the greedacious creation of financial products sold world wide and immensely profitable to the chain of originators until they became unlimited, incalculable liabilities on world wide books and 11 trillion dollars disappeared from portfolios individual and corporate seemingly overnight.

The price of oil may have plummeted in this crisis, but the price of red ink?  Through the roof.

Anyhoo…moral hazard, according to Wikepedia, lists several scenarios where it can occur.   In the corporate world (with consequences far beyond the boardroom) when “upper management is shielded from the consequences of poor decision making”.  It can also occur to Joe the Plumber–I just had to rework him back into the discussion somehow.

For example, if Joe insures his truck without a deductible (I’m not even sure that’s possible but let’s say it is)  then he might not be so concerned about whether it is stolen or not since the consequences of the stolen vehicle rests primarily with the insurance company.  If he has a deductible expense, however,  then the thinking is he’ll think a little deeper about leaving his car unlocked or parking in unsafe areas.  So, a deductible in our daily insurance lives is actually a real world attempt to control reckless, moral hazardy behavior of  the plain vanilla individual people in pursuit only of  life liberty and the occasional droplet of happiness.

There will be a multiple choice surprise quiz on this sometime this week, class.

So, doesn’t it make total sense to bring the deductible to the boardrooms?  Seriously, what is takin’ them so long to figure this out?

If 500 or 1000 dollars is statistically proven to curb my risky behavior, what might a few hundred mill do to the corporate swashbuckler?

This moral hazard thing for creative thinkers (artists, scientists, inventors NOT bankers or corporate CEO’s) is a distinctly more fun concept.

What does a creative mind shielded from the risks of his or her own creativity get?

It’s called a MacArthur Genius Award.  Each year around this time of year, several folks who have been creative in some way in the past get a call from an unknown person saying they have just received $500,000 and there are no strings attached.  Do with it what you will or not they are told.  The MacArthur award cannot be rescinded or taken back.  They are not coming after you if you produce nothing or you produce the biggest f up in the artistic or scientific community known to man.  They are banking (no pun intended) that this financial windfall freedom will encourage your creativity not endanger it and that encouragement shall lead to contributions to the society as a whole one way or the other.

My take-away from this:  There is unlimited liability for a creative person only when they fail to take risks rather than the limited liability or “deductible” on any single failed artistic or scientific endeavor.

Suspended hundreds of feet in the air, the window washer in this image, for example, is spelling out my telephone number for the secret MacArthur board in the grime and grit of Boston air molecules.

Do you see it?

No?

Well,  surely, you can hear him whistling?

It’s the theme from “Bridge over the River Kwai”.

You remember…build the damn bridge then blow it up.

Genius.

©Pat Coakley 2009

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EARLIER POSTS IN SERIES:

ONE

TWO

The growing season has not come to an end on Singular Sensation, my photoblog about flower photography.  I just posted Rule #25: “For God’s sake, take the batteries out of your flash.”

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A Suburban in the City

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“Damian Ortega is known for taking things apart and putting them back together again.”

That’s what it says on the website of the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston about his exhibit “Do It Yourself” which opened on Friday with me first in line.

Go look at the slide show provided on the website but I’m not sure anything but seeing it shall convey the wonder and humor (yes, humor, I’m telling you– I laughed out loud) artist.  I don’t believe anyone in recent memory has required presence as much as Mr. Ortega.

All I can tell you is this.

On my walk back to the train station, I stood in the median strip taking shots of Boston from across Fort Point Channel, purposely underexposing and overexposing, and absolutely, positively shaking the camera as I pressed the shutter. If I could jump with any degree of grace, I’d have jumped up and down while pressing the shutter.

Once home, I stole another image of this black Suburban I’d taken on my walk to the museum and put it all  back together again into this image.  I call it “Before and After”.

Ah.

Feels good–this putting things back together thing.

©Pat Coakley 2009

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Winslow Homer, I Wish. Goddammit.

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I labored on Labor Day in the fields of magic lighting and mist.

On a day that my car broke down and had to be towed (again, if anyone is keeping score) right after taking these photos (3 in total) , I realized once again that creativity never breaks down on me totally kaput like an automobile.

It takes me farther than any bag of bolts, too.  I tried to visit Winslow Homer’s series of paintings about his fishing and hunting trips in the Adirondacks ( I bow from the waist to Winslow Homer just so you know) in this image.  So what if I didn’t make it.  I enjoyed the journey.

There’s also no sales tax on creativity.

There’s no hungry looking salesman with furtive eyes.

Just morning mist fisherman and the hint of leaves turning.

Sigh.

Winslow, you make unrequited love exquisite.  Surely, we all would chose it if you would travel with us.

But..for now, sorry to say, we are traveling on foot goddammit to all hell.

©Pat Coakley 2009

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Singular Sensation, my photoblog of Photo Tips for flower and plant lovers, now has 20 rules!  The latest is called, “The Art of Decay”

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The Gifted Eye

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I fight the urge every day between April and November.

Each day I fight it back by taking my lens and focusing on some other subject.

But, ala Brokeback Mountain:  “I can’t quit ya !”

I keep coming back.

Flowers, instead of cowboys, in my case, but it’s all the same: men and these obsessional objects of artists .  They tempt in the early or late hours.  They sway unconsciously or swagger deliberately, leaning on my creative buttons tailored only to their charms.

I grow my own art on my porch (which makes dating my obsession ever so much easier) in window boxes and containers and in a small front garden that surrounds my condo door.  I occasionally wander into a neighbor’s garden or go to the pond for the Queen Anne’s Lace, but the bulk of my subjects are less than 20 feet away from me at all times.

I could post two photos a day easily that I find out of the ordinary.  Not just good photos, mind you, but ones that knock me out for one reason or another.  But, I fight the urge though I swagger a bit, too.

Narrative is part of this blog so my obsession with the inner world of flowers must be reigned in.

Except when the narrative is about artists and obsessions like today.

Artists’ blogs I visit tell me I am not alone.

Chris at smallformat, his sweet spot is architecture and if it has rust on it, all the better.  The boy earns my gifted eye award every time he posts a building, inner or outer.

(Tonys?  Oscars?  Nah, The “GE” is what I hereby call it)

Bonnieluria, a painter who lives in St. Croix earns my GE for her paintings of the human figure– not in heroic pose but simply bending down to pick something up or playing an instrument, leaning up against a fence or gathering vegetables or even collapsing in grief.  She is drawn to the unconscious moment in our lives.

In the same locale is Donald Diddams whose GE is earned by his color obsession.  He usually folds it into a form but I think his true calling is abstract forms swirling within color.

Dave at Photos4u2c is a pilot and one might think his aerial photography is his sweet spot as he surely produces some spectacular shots from his co-pilot seat or for his photos of his daughter, Ella.  I think she challenges his creativity and his equipment in ways The Rockies do not.  And, yet, I give the GE to Dave for composition.  I think wherever he goes in the world, he responds to the sum of what is before him, not just each part.   I call it composition for lack of a better term.

Tipota at spacesbetweentrees and most recently viewed here should get the GE for breadth of talent alone.  Video, Photos, Music, Words.  Her latest is called “suffering”.

A GE also goes to epicurienne– when she describes a meal, I reach for my fork.  Of course, she eats things that passeth beyond my understanding, but love her you will.  Her travels, her meals, her words.

A GE goes to planetross in Japan.  (He already received my “Big Meanie” award last year)  He’s a tall Canadian driving a ridiculously narrow van.  The award really should be renamed The Gifted Ear for the cheeseman because he hears words in about as many positions as an Olympian gymnast.

I’m NOT giving a GE to pomeroy because all he does is bring the goofy to Facebook and neglect his blog.  The man has more obsessions than neurons but still the funniest human on the planet.

And, lastly for this post, is Mr. Razzbuffnik who deserves a GE, at least for the times he has been able to defuse a volatile and likely violent situation by sheer cunning and animal instinct of self preservation.  He once sent me a youtube video of a fellow aussie telling the world to “harden the f up”.  I’m still laughing, and still grateful.  I’ll give him the GE for life experience alone.  Now, if he’d just write a screenplay, we’d have him on DVD.

These are just a few of places I visit regularly and make note of how they love their subject into creation.

For unlike obsessions in the clinical setting (and sometimes artists I’m not crazy about as well) which are less about the object itself, and more about the inner needs of the obsessed, the artistic focus that I can celebrate is about the selfless love of a form, a gesture, a streak of light.  It exists outside of the artist first and only after the act of creation does it exist within as well.

After 64 years, I know when someone is more about “I” than “Thou” in my personal life and, in my creative life, I can also tell when an artist is simply 100% besotted with an aspect of their world that only they see.

Their first order of business?

They want to share it.

Uh. Oh.  What’s that noise?

10 Bugles sound.

Attention, world! (Sound of throat clearing)

I am pleased to present…

“I call the photograph (taken this morning) at the beginning of this post, “Zinnia as Palm Tree!”

(She said swaggering slightly as lovers tend to do)

©Pat Coakley 2009

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(If you feel someone worthy of ” The Gifted Eye” award, pass on their websites in an email and I’ll give them the GE ‘look’.)

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My Eyes Can Only Look At You

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I went to the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston yesterday.  At the end of visit, tucked in the smaller gallery, was an exhibit by a photographer who titled her exhibit, “My Eyes Can Only Look at You”.  Without seeing one image, I loved her.

It is what we’ve been discussing in the last post, really.  What is photography? What is reality? What is god forbid “truth”.

We couldn’t be more different as photographers.  She uses film only. Her images have no post processing, analog or digital, whatsoever.  She is a studio photographer on medium or large format.  She uses flash and literally smoke and mirrors (the name of one her series) to create images that appear to have no focal point, no discernible subject.  Yet, she is fascinated with the same thing that I am: (curator’s words)
“The photograph has often been described as a transparent window into a frozen moment.  For Eileen Quinlan it is not a window but a mirror–reflecting our tendency to see even constructed images as truth when delivered by the camera.  Fascinated by this, Quinlan explores her medium’s capacity to be both record of physical fact and deceptive illusion.”

Except I don’t think it’s deceptive. Or, an illusion.

To drive in New England during the early spring is to know that “My eyes can only look at you” is true almost to point of weeping.

©Pat Coakley 2009

PHOTOGRAPHY CANNOT BE USED WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION.

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Art and Commerce #2

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Notoriety suits this museum.  It was as crowded as I’ve ever seen it.  Still friendly to explore but you were not alone with the Picasso, the Kandinskys, the Warhol.

Speaking of Warhol:  one of them appears to be  a silk screen of a news photo from the Civil Rights clashes in the 60′s.  Could it have been an AP photo like the one of Barack Obama that is now centerpiece of a law suit?

How did Warhol deal with the clear ‘copyright” issues he had?  I looked it up.  It appears that after he died his estate made licensing agreements with Campbell soup; but not before his death.

The timeliness of this museum hit me in another way.  The Shaprio foundation is named as a benefactor and I believe has a gallery in their name.  The Shapiro charitable foundation was one of the victims of Bernie Madoff’s Ponzi scheme and this foundation has had to send letters to many recipients that they can no longer honor their commitments due to financial losses.

The museum,  according to the latest from the President of Brandeis, shall be incorporated into the college arts program with some access to the public, but, and here’s the most important part,  the holdings shall be sold “if needed”.

Safe to say, it’s needed.

The protest signs were posted all over the front glass wall.  When you walked in, the girl at the desk said, “There’s no charge today. It’s free to everyone.”

I heard a lady say to her friend, “For God’s sake, they are on the brink of extinction…You’d think they be charging something.”

When Commerce fails Art in the worst financial downturn in a century, in it’s final moments of public viewing, art is free.

©PAT COAKLEY 2009

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Stranger on the Train

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This image is my third in “Trucks and Trains, The Series” which started on Monday, January 26th and could also fit into the  “Before the Storm”  series that started way back in early December when the first snow storm was predicted.  The sun always tips its blurry hat to the storm gods just before all hell breaks loose.  As I write this, the snow is falling.

For anyone interested, here are the links to the series mentioned:

Trucks & Trains, the Series:

Day One

Day Two

Before the Storm, The Series

First Storm

Second Storm

This image is also for the SAPCC challenge this week, “Stranger”.

I made this image as one would paint a canvas.  The initial photograph was like a sketch.  Some photographs from long ago were dipped into for bits of color or texture as if a different brushstroke was needed to properly convey the emotion behind what “stranger” as well as trains evoke in me. I think my Edward Hopper gene was clicking in as well.

In my head or heart or wherever creativity resides, I simple began working, almost whistling whilst moving from image to keystroke back to image, trying so many things,  seemingly surefooted.  A color at a time.  A piece of the canvas at a time. Blending this, blending that.  Erasing. Squinting like Bonnie told me she does when working on a painting.  I was aware of an energy insisting and confident: a freedom of gesture that seemed to know that my image wanted to be of the wider complicated world surrounding the stranger–solitary, on the move, whether coming or going it’s not clear, but, definitely–oh, most definitely–NOT waving.  I know this world very well.    They’d be no one waving in a Edward Hopper painting, either.

As I finished working on it, I turned on the news and watched President Obama being interviewed for a broadcast for the Muslim world.   It’s been just a week since the inaugural–and, then, I smiled.

I think if President Obama was my train conductor– or the even the photographer– he would have waved.

The world is changing for all us melancholics whether we are ready or not.  I’m gonna get on this friggin’ train despite all my Celtic DNA baggage weighing me down.  I gotta run, though, like those old movies of people hopping freight trains…throwing their satchel onto the moving train first and then catching a railing or an outstretched hand to scramble up into the open door.

Hey, Mr. Conductor!  Help me, would you?  Don’t just stand there saying, “ALL ABOARD!!”  Here!  Take my camera and be careful for heaven’s sake!  Don’t drop it!

I’ll need it for the journey.

Pat Coakley 2009

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(This actually could be the final image of the “Driving to the Inaugural” Series but there’s no way I’m linking to the fifteen entries that went into that!)

Click Here to see who has contributed to SAPCC this week.

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