"While it covers difficult subjects – disability, substance abuse, self-harm – Mortram's work is rarely without hope, and never without dignity. It is also deeply moving, focusing upon the strength and resilience of the people he photographs. " Dave Stelfox, The Guardian
Jim Mortram is a photographer working in Norfolk. According to an interview with The Guardian he only works within a three mile radius. He photographs people who are on the margins of society; people struggling and perhaps living on benefits for a variety of reasons. His work challenges the status quo that suggests people struggling are somehow 'scroungers' or trying to live of the system. His subjects are often vulnerable people who are ill or caring for others, as he does for his mother, and who for one reason or exist on the peripheries of the economic system.
His photographs remind me of Chris Killip's, whom I wrote about earlier in the course, and the writer of The Guardian article also connects them.
The reason I am writing about Jim Mortram's work here in conjunction with A5 is because he portrays intimate and difficult scenes of people in way that is not about vanity, or prettiness, revealing fear, darkness, vulnerability and awkwardness but also strength and immense presence where people might assume it doesn't exist. He works collaboratively and gets to know the people he photographs. He does not see them as objects to be used but by getting to know them and spending time with them, he enables the people in his photographs to have a voice. His photography, as far as I can make out, is not coming from the place of 'the gaze'. He is a positive enabler rather than a metaphorical 'collector of butterfly wings', or specimens of humanity, like so many other photographers far more established or famous than he (although that will change and I suspect his work will be become extremely well known in time.)
I am impressed by his approach and attitude towards the people in his photographs and compare that to how I photographed my mother for A5. (I'll talk about that further in the A5 supporting statement rather than here.)
As well as photographing the people in his town, Jim Mortram cares for his elderly and unwell mother. He fits the work he does around that. Many of the people in his work (I hesitate to use the word 'subjects') are also ill or caring for people who are. There is a great deal of empathy in his work and he puts it down to his caring role. He feels he has learnt a great deal through that.
I feel as I look at Mortram's work and read about it, that his photography is about so much more than 'photography'. He is really using the medium to communicate, and not only his voice. Somehow he manages to make it possible for a whole community to express their frustration, sadness, anger, despair as well as hope and strength.
Jim Mortram's site
Showing posts with label The Guardian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Guardian. Show all posts
Saturday, 27 June 2015
Wednesday, 14 January 2015
Lee Freidlander, (self portraits and predatory street photography)
I have been thinking about Lee Freidlander recently and read a little review of a book of his which came out a couple of years ago compiling all his self portraits. I guess I am interested in this because my A4 is once again turned inwards rather than outwards (I actually do hope that by the time I get to A5 I find a way to look externally!).
I was really struck by the following sentence in Sean O'Hagan's review in The Guardian:
"One of his most famous photographs is of his own shadow falling on the back of a blonde woman in a fur coat, an image that says much about the often predatory nature of street photography. It is, I guess, a self portrait of a kind, albeit a metaphorical one."
I also read in Gerry Badger's The Genius of Photography "the wanderer with an unseen camera, a stalker and a hunter after images, not of exalted images but everyday life in the modern metropolis" referring to early street photographers.
Both these sentences suggest that street photography is somehow an aggressive act. I know in Susan Sontag in On Photography discusses how it is better to be using a camera rather than a gun which is what people (men) would have done in the past. That somehow street photography is fulfilling an innate human need to hunt, to stalk, to capture but that it does it less destructively but the predatory nature of street photography is nevertheless troubling. Lying in wait to take an image of someone unbeknown to them or in defiance of their wishes, or at best with some level of complicity but not requested, simply taken. It's difficult.
Yesterday I took a photograph in the doctor's waiting room because the light was doing what I like at the moment, creating very deep shadows which contrast greatly with bright sunshine and the woman in the frame got quite upset with me - I explained that she couldn't even be seen, that I was actually taking a photo of the light and not of her - but I don't blame her for being cross. There is something unpleasant about candid photography that has been totally uninvited whatsoever by the subjects being photographed.
Lee Freidlander was a prolific, street photographer who recorded "the American social landscape" which, despite my reservations about street photography expressed above, seems an important and worthwhile things for him to have spent his life doing. His work is filled with reflections, odd angles and images of himself taking the photograph within the photograph. His style and content are informed by ideas and concepts making the work not only a rich document of US culture but also an astute lifetime of comments and questions.
Friedlander's work, as with the shadow on the fur coat or with his face in the wing mirror, includes his self portrait fairly frequently, hence the book released a few years back which is all about his self portraiture. In the book Why Does It NOT Have To Be In Focus, Jackie Higgins' discusses Friedlander's self portrait where he places a light bulb between his face and the camera 'debunking the age-old myth of the artist as a hero'. There is an awareness in Friedlander's images which makes them highly intelligent. His style 'defies traditional composition' making them 'metaphors for chaos that is modern life' as described by Lewis Baltz, a photographer quoted in the aforementioned book.
When I look at Friedlander's later self portraits there is a boldness and total absence of apology to them which I don't expect to see in similar women's work although off the top of my head Tracy Emin and Freida Kahlo break with with expectation. This is interesting for me - I have been busy snapping myself again for A4 and feel a certain level of discomfort, although clearly not enough to change tac for now. Since that is where I am heading I ought to dispense with the girly self depreciation and just get on with it! At least I am involved, entirely aware and give permission - no one is stalking me, I'm not stalking anyone else and the whole predatory nature of candid photography is bypassed altogether.
I find Friedlander's work very interesting and am eager to look at it a but more.
Wikipedia
On Photography, Susan Sontag, Penguin Published 1977, Reissued 2008
Why Does it NOT Have To Be In Focus, Modern Photography Explained, Jackie Higgins, Thames & Hudson, September 2103
The Genius of Photography, Gerry Badger, Quadrille, Edition published 2014, Text copyright 2007
I was really struck by the following sentence in Sean O'Hagan's review in The Guardian:
"One of his most famous photographs is of his own shadow falling on the back of a blonde woman in a fur coat, an image that says much about the often predatory nature of street photography. It is, I guess, a self portrait of a kind, albeit a metaphorical one."
I also read in Gerry Badger's The Genius of Photography "the wanderer with an unseen camera, a stalker and a hunter after images, not of exalted images but everyday life in the modern metropolis" referring to early street photographers.
Both these sentences suggest that street photography is somehow an aggressive act. I know in Susan Sontag in On Photography discusses how it is better to be using a camera rather than a gun which is what people (men) would have done in the past. That somehow street photography is fulfilling an innate human need to hunt, to stalk, to capture but that it does it less destructively but the predatory nature of street photography is nevertheless troubling. Lying in wait to take an image of someone unbeknown to them or in defiance of their wishes, or at best with some level of complicity but not requested, simply taken. It's difficult.
Yesterday I took a photograph in the doctor's waiting room because the light was doing what I like at the moment, creating very deep shadows which contrast greatly with bright sunshine and the woman in the frame got quite upset with me - I explained that she couldn't even be seen, that I was actually taking a photo of the light and not of her - but I don't blame her for being cross. There is something unpleasant about candid photography that has been totally uninvited whatsoever by the subjects being photographed.
Lee Freidlander was a prolific, street photographer who recorded "the American social landscape" which, despite my reservations about street photography expressed above, seems an important and worthwhile things for him to have spent his life doing. His work is filled with reflections, odd angles and images of himself taking the photograph within the photograph. His style and content are informed by ideas and concepts making the work not only a rich document of US culture but also an astute lifetime of comments and questions.
Friedlander's work, as with the shadow on the fur coat or with his face in the wing mirror, includes his self portrait fairly frequently, hence the book released a few years back which is all about his self portraiture. In the book Why Does It NOT Have To Be In Focus, Jackie Higgins' discusses Friedlander's self portrait where he places a light bulb between his face and the camera 'debunking the age-old myth of the artist as a hero'. There is an awareness in Friedlander's images which makes them highly intelligent. His style 'defies traditional composition' making them 'metaphors for chaos that is modern life' as described by Lewis Baltz, a photographer quoted in the aforementioned book.
When I look at Friedlander's later self portraits there is a boldness and total absence of apology to them which I don't expect to see in similar women's work although off the top of my head Tracy Emin and Freida Kahlo break with with expectation. This is interesting for me - I have been busy snapping myself again for A4 and feel a certain level of discomfort, although clearly not enough to change tac for now. Since that is where I am heading I ought to dispense with the girly self depreciation and just get on with it! At least I am involved, entirely aware and give permission - no one is stalking me, I'm not stalking anyone else and the whole predatory nature of candid photography is bypassed altogether.
I find Friedlander's work very interesting and am eager to look at it a but more.
Wikipedia
On Photography, Susan Sontag, Penguin Published 1977, Reissued 2008
Why Does it NOT Have To Be In Focus, Modern Photography Explained, Jackie Higgins, Thames & Hudson, September 2103
The Genius of Photography, Gerry Badger, Quadrille, Edition published 2014, Text copyright 2007
Thursday, 13 November 2014
Elina Brotherus
Yesterday I went to see Elina Brotherus speak about her work. It made me very happy to have been there. Listening to her and seeing her work answered so many questions!
Brotherus told us that she applied towards the end of her MA for a residency at a French Museum. When she arrived she had no French although spoke Finnish, German and English already - imagine being that accomplished before you've even begun. In order to learn French she followed her friend's advice and used Post It Notes everywhere with the words of the objects they were stuck to written in French on them. (Given I'd been reading about object relations in infants only the day before it's difficult not to see this as a moment of startling synchronicity - how this informs my understanding of her work and perhaps ultimately mine will take me a little longer to think about so forgive me for brushing over it for now*.)
Brotherus documented her time there by taking self portraits. One of the most fortuitous images, La Reflet from Suites Françaises 2, was of herself standing by the mirror and placed on the mirror covering her face was the Post It Note for reflection-reflet - without a digital camera there was no way she could have known the yellow sticky paper would be placed so perfectly and she was grateful for such a lucky accident.
She created a series of images of herself with these notes and one of them, Le nez de Monsieur Cheval, is on the cover of photography as contemporary art by Charlotte Cotton. The work was exhibited and Brotherus has since forged a hugely impressive and prolific career, as well as teaching art photography. She talked about using her Self as an example of life in her work, of life guiding the work. And because she is that way inclined she found that even when she left autobiographical work behind for ten years and concentrated on landscapes the self portraits 'pushed through again'. The photographs we were looking at were the ones taken at the beginning of her career as discussed and some later ones linked but taken more recently.
Brotherus was asked to return to do some work at the same institution in 2011 working with young people and she asked if could stay in the same room as she had done before. During her own time she took photographs of herself and the space again with Post It Notes only this time the language, still French, was more fluent as by now she had lived in France, bought a house with someone and then left again (although still owns the house). Brotherus read out and translated some of the sentences she had photographed. The Post It Notes were by now covered in complex, three dimensional contemplations containing positive and negative thoughts.
They were deeply personal and honest comments about where she was emotionally at the time of the work and about her state of happiness. I found it extremely moving as there was no self-pity for her sadness, just a matter of fact honesty. This was quite hard to comprehend I suppose because we are used to more drama (well I am) and perhaps even histrionics when hearing people report sadness and loss. There was emotion but it was contained.
And that is what I get from Brotherus' work. A sense of certain, profound containment; unobtrusive strength and a still, quiet powerfulness. She told us she was happy when she did the first Post It Note series although many of the photographs do not convey a sense of happiness to me. Happy because she was being taken seriously as an artist and able to do the work in the first place.
The second series which is shown in conjunction with the earlier is poignant and brimming with a sense of loss for youth and dreams and hopes. As if she wonders how she arrived at this later place.
In many of the images you can see the cable release and this is important as the viewer is then reminded that the author is also the subject; this is a subjective work about the self. What the viewer takes away in connection with that is really left to her (or even him).
As I mentioned in my last post the idea of working with the self has been on my mind a lot since I have been compelled to photograph myself for the previous two assignments and have really struggled with that.
Brotherus was asked if she could have chosen to use a model for these series'. I knew the answer to be a resolute 'no'. The work is deeply personal - it is about her relationship with her past, present and future and to ask someone else to act it out would be to undermine it. Her work is not a play or a drama. It is the truth, uncluttered and unalloyed, simple and straight forward.
I have looked a lot at quite 'other-worldly' (stylistically) photographs recently - mainly because I have been attracted to and experimenting with a certain style of my own, tricks if you will. But I was so taken with the power of Brotherus and her work. She is like a swan; composed, powerful, beautiful and so is the art. There is no trickery.
Someone asked Brotherus if she works with an assistant or anyone else helping her. Again I felt I knew the answer; this is the sort of work you must do on your own if you can. You cannot have the worry of another - an Other. It's too personal and needs to take as long as it takes, with your own thoughts and space. (I am thinking of something where I might possibly need someone to help and I can only think my best and oldest friend will do under those circumstances so I hope she is up for it if I do decide I need her.)
I was so pleased to have attended, to find out more about another artist photographer, to see what else is possible, to see the seriousness with which Elina Brotherus takes her work, to witness someone sharing herself so gracefully. I read an article about women over-sharing their pain, flagellating themselves, baring their souls in a most painful and self-hating way by Suzanne Moore in The Guardian. It was a really interesting article especially in light of me having been looking at Brotherus' work yesterday, and my own compulsion to explore what ever it is that I am working towards. I thought the article was extremely apt but I do NOT think that Brotherus is doing the sort of anti-feminist-bearing-of-the-soul-in-order-to-be-hurt-further-by-self-and-others that Suzanne Moore is describing. And I'm not yet sure how she avoids that. How she manages to be so graceful. Perhaps it's honesty. Enormous self-awareness. Generosity. I just don't know.
Elina Brotherus' website
Guardian article by Suzanne Moore
Object relations
Brotherus told us that she applied towards the end of her MA for a residency at a French Museum. When she arrived she had no French although spoke Finnish, German and English already - imagine being that accomplished before you've even begun. In order to learn French she followed her friend's advice and used Post It Notes everywhere with the words of the objects they were stuck to written in French on them. (Given I'd been reading about object relations in infants only the day before it's difficult not to see this as a moment of startling synchronicity - how this informs my understanding of her work and perhaps ultimately mine will take me a little longer to think about so forgive me for brushing over it for now*.)
Brotherus documented her time there by taking self portraits. One of the most fortuitous images, La Reflet from Suites Françaises 2, was of herself standing by the mirror and placed on the mirror covering her face was the Post It Note for reflection-reflet - without a digital camera there was no way she could have known the yellow sticky paper would be placed so perfectly and she was grateful for such a lucky accident.
She created a series of images of herself with these notes and one of them, Le nez de Monsieur Cheval, is on the cover of photography as contemporary art by Charlotte Cotton. The work was exhibited and Brotherus has since forged a hugely impressive and prolific career, as well as teaching art photography. She talked about using her Self as an example of life in her work, of life guiding the work. And because she is that way inclined she found that even when she left autobiographical work behind for ten years and concentrated on landscapes the self portraits 'pushed through again'. The photographs we were looking at were the ones taken at the beginning of her career as discussed and some later ones linked but taken more recently.
Brotherus was asked to return to do some work at the same institution in 2011 working with young people and she asked if could stay in the same room as she had done before. During her own time she took photographs of herself and the space again with Post It Notes only this time the language, still French, was more fluent as by now she had lived in France, bought a house with someone and then left again (although still owns the house). Brotherus read out and translated some of the sentences she had photographed. The Post It Notes were by now covered in complex, three dimensional contemplations containing positive and negative thoughts.
They were deeply personal and honest comments about where she was emotionally at the time of the work and about her state of happiness. I found it extremely moving as there was no self-pity for her sadness, just a matter of fact honesty. This was quite hard to comprehend I suppose because we are used to more drama (well I am) and perhaps even histrionics when hearing people report sadness and loss. There was emotion but it was contained.
And that is what I get from Brotherus' work. A sense of certain, profound containment; unobtrusive strength and a still, quiet powerfulness. She told us she was happy when she did the first Post It Note series although many of the photographs do not convey a sense of happiness to me. Happy because she was being taken seriously as an artist and able to do the work in the first place.
The second series which is shown in conjunction with the earlier is poignant and brimming with a sense of loss for youth and dreams and hopes. As if she wonders how she arrived at this later place.
In many of the images you can see the cable release and this is important as the viewer is then reminded that the author is also the subject; this is a subjective work about the self. What the viewer takes away in connection with that is really left to her (or even him).
As I mentioned in my last post the idea of working with the self has been on my mind a lot since I have been compelled to photograph myself for the previous two assignments and have really struggled with that.
Brotherus was asked if she could have chosen to use a model for these series'. I knew the answer to be a resolute 'no'. The work is deeply personal - it is about her relationship with her past, present and future and to ask someone else to act it out would be to undermine it. Her work is not a play or a drama. It is the truth, uncluttered and unalloyed, simple and straight forward.
I have looked a lot at quite 'other-worldly' (stylistically) photographs recently - mainly because I have been attracted to and experimenting with a certain style of my own, tricks if you will. But I was so taken with the power of Brotherus and her work. She is like a swan; composed, powerful, beautiful and so is the art. There is no trickery.
Someone asked Brotherus if she works with an assistant or anyone else helping her. Again I felt I knew the answer; this is the sort of work you must do on your own if you can. You cannot have the worry of another - an Other. It's too personal and needs to take as long as it takes, with your own thoughts and space. (I am thinking of something where I might possibly need someone to help and I can only think my best and oldest friend will do under those circumstances so I hope she is up for it if I do decide I need her.)
I was so pleased to have attended, to find out more about another artist photographer, to see what else is possible, to see the seriousness with which Elina Brotherus takes her work, to witness someone sharing herself so gracefully. I read an article about women over-sharing their pain, flagellating themselves, baring their souls in a most painful and self-hating way by Suzanne Moore in The Guardian. It was a really interesting article especially in light of me having been looking at Brotherus' work yesterday, and my own compulsion to explore what ever it is that I am working towards. I thought the article was extremely apt but I do NOT think that Brotherus is doing the sort of anti-feminist-bearing-of-the-soul-in-order-to-be-hurt-further-by-self-and-others that Suzanne Moore is describing. And I'm not yet sure how she avoids that. How she manages to be so graceful. Perhaps it's honesty. Enormous self-awareness. Generosity. I just don't know.
Elina Brotherus' website
Guardian article by Suzanne Moore
Object relations
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