The Original Master of Contrast

     Whether one knows his name or not, it is likely that one has been exposed to one of Caravaggio's paintings at some point or another. Caravaggio painted many years ago, but his works of art are still among the most prominent of today. So what makes his pieces so incredibly noteworthy? Perhaps for his content choices, or perhaps due to his mastery of the usage of light and dark.'

     Caravaggio often painted scenes from ancient Greek mythology, such as the slaying of Medusa. The most striking content choice of his must be the constant decapitations occurring within his paintings. His choice to include such a gruesome scene is extremely polarizing, yet it achieves a level of emotional power that all artists strive to gain.

     Caravaggio is not only well known for his content however, he is also often noted for his clear mastery of the elements of light and dark. He used light in multiple ways: he focused the viewer's attention towards what he intended as the focal point, and also uses light as a symbol. For example, in his painting depicting the taking of christ, all of christ's captors are shadowed and in the dark, representing the darkness and evil behind their intentions.
     Caravaggio gives wonderful examples of how to best use contrast, and photographers can certainly stand to learn something from him. Photography is entirely about the difference between light and dark; without the inherent difference between the two, photography would not exist at all. Thus, for a photographer to thrive, he must acknowledge the immense importance of contrast.

An Open Ended Inspiration: Alternative Techniques

     Ever since I first saw photographs that utilize unique and creative techniques, I longed to try and attempt them myself. Thus, alternative technique has been a huge inspiration in my photography for as long as I can remember. When I speak of these creative stratagems, I am speaking mainly of things such as stop motion, long exposure, and double exposure photography.
     Stop motion photography often entails an event that we do not perceive due to the extreme swfitness with which it occurs, and thus this style of photography was popularized. Stop motion captures everything from a balloon popping to water splashing (which seems to have become quite popular recently). Yet, this type of photography is arguably, the hardest type of photography to do. This is due to the fact that alongside all normal photography rules, there are an entirely new set of rules to follow. For example, a stop motion photographer may have to worry about both exposure time, AND figuring out when to trigger the shutter at the same time.

     
     The appeal of stop motion, in my opinion of course, is that it allows us to see a world unseen. Above, you can see the beauty of water in motion, and perhaps decipher the mystical language it speaks.


     Long exposure photography has become especially popular among aspiring photographers due to the blatantly ethereal effects that may be achieved through its use. This style can be used literally in every picture in one way or another, from fireworks to stars; it all looks nicer with a longer exposure.

    

     Lastly there is double exposure photography, perhaps the most potentially evocative type of photography. With this technique, an artist may make a smooth transition or even juxtapose two disparate things. Perhaps a silhouette of a broken man, covered with an exposure of ashes; maybe an aspiring girl with thoughts of becoming an architect, achieved by comparing the two in a single photograph.

     Artists everywhere ought to at least experiment with this technique due to the amazing effects that can be accomplished with a bit of work. Granted, this is EXTREMELY tough to pull off in film photography due to a need for meticulous planning and many tries. However, the product is well worth the effort.

     The only techniques I've dabbled in thus far are the two exposure techniques, and I have to say, they are frustrating to print, but they turn out so nicely. Now that I have double and long exposures under my belt perhaps I can begin work on stop motion photography.

The Art of Desolation: The Holga

     Upon searching for Holga photography to inspire me, I noticed a pattern within many of the photos. In nearly every other Holga photograph I found, there was an air of loneliness, isolation, and desolation. Yet, it was a beautiful loneliness. This beautiful desolation seems to be the trademark shot of the Holga, but what more can we do with our Holgas? What other emotions can we evoke with that muggy vignette?

     I believe we can create and emit a broad range of emotion through our photography, so why not through our Holga photography? I wondered why this dim and hauntingly beautiful style became so popular among Holga artists, and realized it was definitely the vignette effect. Without the vignette in the above picture, it would be a simple, still a bit ominous, but simple picture of a road. It's an empty road, but with the vignette it feels tightened, restricted, claustrophobic. Without it, it might feel unrestrained: free. Perhaps this vignette is used in this way because it is so easy to fall into the trap of evoking a constricting feeling, leading to an overall tone of isolation.

     Seeing all of this desolate photography made me want to break the pattern and try and use the vignette in more innovative ways, not just as a moody platitude. When shooting my role I tried using as much light as possible to avoid the dank feeling seen in so many Holga photos. In addition, I took pictures of nature. I hoped that the combination of lighting and nature might brighten a field of photgrahy that seems to be bogged down in the dark, embracing grasp of the hackneyed.

The Art of Video Games Part 2

      With my previous post I talked about the inspiring aspects of Bioshock and LIMBO and I was going on and on, so I thought I ought to split this topic into two posts to make it manageable (and readable). So, as I was saying: video games are the newest way to make art and express sentiments.

     The first of the two games I want to show you in this part is called Mirror's Edge. Here's the gamefaqs description:

"In a city where information is heavily monitored, agile couriers called runners transport sensitive data away from prying eyes. In this seemingly utopian paradise, a crime has been committed, your sister has been framed and now you are being hunted."

     Mirror's Edge continues the dystopian concept, but in a very different way. Instead of a city meant to further the arts as there was in Bioshock, the city in Mirror's Edge simply wishes to restrict the flow of information (more along the lines of the Orwellian dystopia).

     Mirror's Edge follows one of the aforementioned couriers as they run across rooftops to transport information across the city. While running across these rooftops you can see the stark white city with it's selective color patches throughout. It's an aesthetic that's hard to explain but understandable once seen. Mirror's Edge is beautiful, and looks simple in its own right. This minimalism brings about yet another inspiring art style since it really shows that when something is muted, even something such as color, it can create a wonderful and unique style.

     

     The final game I wanted to show is the extremely recent game, Deus Ex: Human Revolution. As always, here is the gamefaqs description:

"At a time when scientific advancements are routinely turning athletes, soldiers and spies into super-enhanced beings, someone is working very hard to ensure mankind's evolution follows a particular path. You need to discover why - because the decisions you take and the choices you make will be the only things that can determine mankind's future."

     Deus Ex takes place in a world where the popular concept of transhumanism (human enhancement through robotics) takes precedence. In this world there are not only human enhancements, but also enhancements on architecture and art. The artists working on Deus Ex had to anticipate the way in which architecture would evolve if Earth were to enter into a similar situation as the world in Deus Ex, and thus the environments in the game were born. This game brings into play the concept of artistic anticipation, which occurs often when making science fiction art. Sci fi art is some of my favorite to view, thus this concept proved very interesting to me. The game's environs were extremely inspiring to me, especially after thinking about how much time and planning goes into anticipating something as complex and ornate as an entire sci fi city. With this, Deus Ex proves another excellent example of art.

The Art of Video Games Part 1

     Only recently have video games begun to be considered as an art medium, and even so, there remains no paucity of controversy. Video games have been through a roller coaster of acclaim and vituperation; however, for the first time ever, they are being acknowledged by the Smithsonian Institute as a form of art. This has further inspired me to see art within the games that I play, and I wish to share a few of the most artistically valuable games I have experienced.
     The first game I'd like to mention is one in which the vivid atmosphere is only rivaled by the story: Bioshock. Here is a good description from www.gamefaqs.com, 

"After your plane crashes into icy uncharted waters, you discover a rusted bathysphere and descend into Rapture, a city hidden beneath the sea. Constructed as an idealistic society for a hand picked group of scientists, artists and industrialists, the idealism is no more. Now the city is littered with corpses, wildly powerful guardians roam the corridors as little girls loot the dead, and genetically mutated citizens ambush you at every turn...Make meaningful choices and mature decisions, ultimately culminating in the grand question: do you exploit the innocent survivors of Rapture...or save them?"

     Bioshock first introduced me to the dystopian topic, popularized by the likes of Ayn Rand, George Orwell, and Aldous Huxley, which then inspired me to both look into dystopian literature; but Bioshock did not only introduce me to Huxley and Orwell, it also first showed me Art Deco design. Art Deco was first popularized in the 20's, but remains a commonly used architectural design choice as well as interior design choice. Art Deco is one of my favorite style of architecture, but also of art in general. Thus Bioshock introduced me to two of my favorite art styles, one of literature and one of visual arts.

     While the first game was created by a major game publisher, the second game I want to share is a small indie game called LIMBO. Again, here's a quick overview from gamefaqs:

"[LIMBO] puts players in the role of a young boy traveling through an eerie and treacherous world in an attempt to discover the fate of his sister."

     The concept is extremely simple, but there is a strong emphasis on treacherous in that description. The alluring part of LIMBO, however, is the art style that went into making it. The game is in all black and white with a sort of misty, enigmatic air to it. This art style greatly contributes to the feeling of the game, which is easily one of some degree of fear, and indefinitely one of dread.

    Another interesting aspect of LIMBO is trying to figure out the story. There is no voice acting, no words, no nothing, except for the boy and his journey through this land. Some believe it's representative of the afterlife, or perhaps even life itself, while others believe it to be a metaphor that spans the width of everything we know. This is interesting to note as this is characteristic of fine art: it sets you on a track with what it presents and then you must interpret it for not what it is, but for what it represents and ultimately what it means. 

      This game is yet another case promoting the view of video games as art.

Thomas Hudson Reeve: Experimental-Experimental Photography

     Pinhole camera photography is often considered a sort of unusual or experimental type of photography now that film and digital are so prevalent, but Thomas Hudson Reeve takes this experiment a step further. 
     Reeve is an experimental pinhole photographer, meaning, he essentially experiments with an experiment. In order to get the pictures he does, Reeve folds photographic paper into intricate, or even simple shapes and then places it into the pinhole camera to see what happens. The result is an extremely interesting effect where there are clear lines at the bent parts, but each divided section also has its own sort of style or flair to it. Though it is all the same "picture" it features different perspectives and different lighting and different shadows in each part.
    
     His pictures are not available for download; however, they may be seen in an online gallery here:           http://www.papercams.com/gallery/photos.html


     My particular favorites are the pictures he calls "Big Rock 1" and "Riverside Park". Each picture has its own unique fold and the lighting in each division proves to be quite protean as it never remains the same in any one picture. Reeve has inspired me to look into experimental ways to go about using my pinhole camera, perhaps not through folding, but maybe some other technique, perhaps putting another transparent object within the box to add shapes and/or dimensions. Regardless, I'm glad I stumbled upon Reeve as, now, I feel ready to take on the onus of pinhole camera work.


     Big Rock 1: http://www.papercams.com/gallery/photo8.html


     Riverside Park: http://www.papercams.com/gallery/photo6.html

Twelve Queries for The Aspiring Imagemaker

     The title refers to an article I recently read in which Robert Hirsch explains and answers some common questions that up and coming photographers may have. He goes into abstractions regarding each question and gets a bit redundant; however, he makes some great points about certain topics in photography. There were three "queries" in particular that spoke to me: "Why is it important to be proficient in your medium?", "Why is it important to make your own images?", and "Is it necessary to explain my images?".
     The topic of being proficient in the medium one is working in is inevitable, as one must try again and again in order to suceed in it. Hirsch brings up the point that a photographer's initial print is like a first draft, essentially a rough scribble of ideas. Upon developing and refining this cloud of ideas, the photographer will end up with a well thought out piece of art. This idea especially spoke to me because of how many prints I need to make in order to get just the right one. I start out cropping it one way and later decide it would look nicer another way; I start out at a 5.6 f stop and move to an 11 f stop for a different contrast; and not to mention filters (which I switch at least 3 times per print).

This print took me about 7 or 8 tries to get just right.

     While being proficient is important, the concept of making your own images is significant in that it allows one to see the world differently. Making one's own prints, Hirsch argues, changes the way one sees the world in sense of appreciation and discovery. This idea was very interesting to me as I have always had a relatively keen eye for detail, and it has only grown since I began to envelop myself in my photography. I have since begun to see nature even more appreciatively and with a reverent eye. There is a down side to this as, occasionally, there will be a time in which I have to sacrifce being able to capture a moment for simply experiencing it. And experience in itself is wholly important.

To get this picture I awkwardly placed my camera at the edge of a mosaic bowl, essentially warping the way reality appears.

     The final idea, whether it is necessary to explain your images, is especially striking to me. I have always pondered this question. Do my images need to speak for themselves? Is photography actually about creating imagery that speaks for itself, or about creating imagery that's fully interperative and subjective? Hirsch argues that viewers need some sort of toe-hold when viewing work, but the photo should then speak for itself from then on. I think this is a wonderful way to look at things since it allows the artist to set the viewer in the direction they intended, but then allow interperatation to take over. Perhaps a title will tell enough.

     Majesty