the latest in photographic wear...

from l.a. beehn

what is that saying about any publicity?

don't know how i came about this but blindly roaming the internet i found a blog from the newest province in canada - that as it happens stopped being a republic to-day in 1949.
this was in the column
The magazine has been redesigned, but the look is ho-hum; change for its own sake. The new sans-serif font (Helvetica, I believe) looks cheap and the point size is too large. The image area of each page is contained within a two-point border (even the advertising is contained in the larger box) which prevents photographic bleeds and inhibits creative layouts. As an example, ‘Clarkes Beach’, a new graphic feature by artist Robert Clarke-Davis, has some potential but right now it’s boxed, tiny and looking too much like an advertisement. Let it breathe, please! Alas, this conservative new design looks more like a low-budget newsletter than a provocative magazine.
to read the rest...
http://meekermedia.blogspot.com/2007/03/new-current-is-drifting-out-to-sea.html

it seems...

that the problem that turned my nikon digital into a diana numerique is a known nikon flaw and will be repaired for free.

53545/6/7

For a few days now I haven’t been able to get a decent platinotype – the skies are streaky which I am sure is the paper. It was a new batch but I haven’t had this problem before. For the last few days I have been trying to change everything - except paper - to rectify it and nothing has worked. The frustration and impatience is having me waste more paper and chemicals so I went to Janesville.

I went knowing that the open flatness between Delavan and the Rock River Valley would calm me.

I went to see former monuments and was too late. One where I would make kami-kase runs when I didn’t have to as the object of the runs was in the South Pacific, has become a McMansion and the other - THE JANESVILLE OASIS - will be a Menards. I went to and to photograph a pathetic wooden swan float in Traxler Park that I would pass heading over to see someone who didn’t listen and decided to take the photography position at Beloit College – two years of her life wasted dealing with a milquetoast designer who sees himself as an artist and a tight sphinctered art history teacher who is the queen of political correctness. The swan also disappeared.

Stopping along US 14 at Carver’s Rock Road calmed, I stopped to make a snap of farm equipment for sale.

I had brought the wrong camera.

this should be preserved as a rock river woodhenge

Credit where...

This last year the department has felt like it did when I first entered the wgas back in the 1990’s. One can hardly move without running into a new visiting artist who is willing to not only give a lecture but do studio visits.

When I first arrived we were the beacon department – of course this is before it became faddish to take every other semester off due to the strain of teaching and way before the wgas became a realtor and tried to buy out the Loop.

This last year has been really impressive in the people who have passed through especially in its breadth. I was chair when I had to delete the names of many of the former people who had come through as no one really had been in the department for a decade. This was a manifestation of how the department was disappearing.

When someone was in town we used to hand them some money and they would give a talk at lunch. It happened quite a lot but there was little interaction after that. Of course we had visiting artist positions where faculty would stay for two years and we would rotate people in and out of this to keep the department dynamic and vital.

BDG actually put together a symposium of four artists during a semester that was great. It wasn’t Goldsmiths’ but close to it.

I dare say this is even better. Most of those brought in are having studio visits with the grads, as well as a talk and so many are going through that I am afraid that the grads may take this for granted. I am sorry that I haven’t taken part in this at all.

I am also sorry that the grads are the ones who took this on. They went to the administration for funds, they asked those in the know in the school about honoraria, they even invited and booked the visiting artists - and there have been a slew of them - as it seems that the faculty couldn’t (be bothered to) get it done. We are still trying to fill a position from the loss of a faculty member to another school. I think – know – that the grads did a great job. It is a pity though that they had to take their own education in hand like this when it should be we the faculty who are providing them with these chances freeing them up to make work and have it critiqued in the short time that they are here.

I fear burnout on their part for the magnificent job that they have done and really sheepish that we faculty can only moan about the people chosen rather than supporting them 100% and worrying about the inordinate amount of time it must take to have such a full docket.

It seems instead that we were passive until it was up and running and only now start to complain about minutiae when we couldn’t be bothered to even initiate something that comes close – but be fair how could we be expected to do this amount of work when we are only here one semester in two.

I hear – it could be a rumour – that now the higher ups at the wgas are upset at the money spent - upset at money spent to provide an excellent education – maybe there is a building whose rent is due who knows - and are also complaining. My guess is they fear that other departments will demand the same of their faculty and school.

the first CB

As the online version of the current isn't up yet - I am guessing this is from too much time atBaird's Cove at the Duke - here is the first instalment.

to-day

38 silver prints
8 books of wander
6 platinotypes
made

the illinois/indiana border - wolf lake

because the only thing missing is control

we head out to madison even though it is st. patrick’s day, as carol has to ger her licence renewed and only madison has an office open on saturday. it is also an excuse. run into danny miller coming out of soleil. a shock of lives converging. a nice day warm enough to walk around. i buy a massey hall cd by neil young – rarely buy cds as i am hooked on the wireless. buy food - stock up on cheese - at williamson street co-op then wander some more.

i am so assured of myself i buy a book – lisa moore’s alligator fattening my canlit shelf. i reckon that since i am only one number behind on the grantas i should be ok.

pushing my luck, we head to milwaukee that sunday. the excuse is to see the francis bacon exhibit at the museum – finally a museum that wastes more space than the rooms, the mam has vast corridors of emptiness. hit the bookshop where they have all these books on remainder.

i have a mastercard. buy three. one book – niagara by alec soth – has no price so they cannot sell it. but $200 later we leave for the real reason for the outing, walking the neighbourhood between oakland and the river, north avenue to uwm.

took ubaldo but for some reason the first camera out of my bag was the leiquinha. the light seemed correct and i had thought about bringing out ubaldo but while i tend to strol and gawk carol has a walk of death –aerobic strolling, if i dare to change cameras she’s out of sight.

didn’t matter i could always return again, this would make me focus the air was clear enough as it was just cool enough to make the air crisp - it was a struggle to go as it was a perfect sky for printing platinotypes.

almost a roll later we are having spicy chais at alterra before heading back.

i am in control.

this was a culmination of feeling in control as i wasn’t trying to over achieve.

instead of trying to make five prints in a day, i was satisfied with one. one neg was a struggle but stuck to it. the printing was going slower than i had anticipated but i wasn’t panicking.

when we arrive back in peasants pissoir there is a message on the ansaphone saying that they found the price of the book and would hold it for five days.

who was i kidding.

headed back up to the museum to by the book with the same cast – ubaldo and the leiquinha. i wanted to photograph the jesus statue shop in national avenue, who cares if there is buddy trying to catch a bus blocking the view if he insists in staying there he will be part of the surrealism. park in the third ward and make more snaps under the bridge – wondering if they would consider this a security risk.

buy the book and coffee at alterra – double stamp day and headed back knowing that i could slow down and make snaps along the frontage roads. there was a self serve hay stand, and the christmas shop with a forlorn santa claus.

i actually stopped then stopped again when i saw a gasbar, stopped again finding blue pipes on where the old porn shops used to be between routes 165 and county c.

made some colour snaps to end the roll. went past 36 but didn’t burn the film there were things around the house i could photograph.

37, 38, 39 check the rewind knob and it looks like it is moving, give it one jerk and…

i had loaded the film incorrectly

digital 1 x film 0.

i try to remember what i made snaps of so that i can repeat them.

everything came apart.

i bid on a minolta cle at ebay thinking that my bid was too low and wouldn’t get it, won. the camera was some sick fantasy of duplicating the leiquinha – this is another sickness i duplicate everything – to fulfil the needs of the next time i am in niterói i can wander with 35mm both black and white and colour.

i do have this project in which i want to work on there. my almost other life but i fall victim to all the hype and from this distance fear going with big cameras – although i did before and only felt threatened by the security guards who were suspicious. the leiquinhas look like point and shoots who cares that i have trouble dealing with 35mm. that i have boxes of unseen 35mm negs – i call it the winogrand triangle.

well, now, i do as i now have a camera i didn’t expect to win in a format that while i think that i should be able to use cannot see it as proper format. it appears that i cannot even load them!

my want to use it is based on logic, i wander, i want things portable, i don’t make big snaps, 35mm is the perfect format. besides i have to replace joãozão. i am doing more colour, they are great for postcards – colour and 35mm that is - i simply scan and print, i can push one out in no time.

nothing i do, however, is based on logic. wasn’t it the last post where i was risking hernias due camera choice to the klondike? 35mm is superfluous on the rock – except for snaps.

i then also realised that with my subscription of the new yorker, the book bought will sit on the shelf for some time.

and i have overspent my budget until the end of the next billing period.

puxa vida

Because it is only missing a “y”

and it is better than the other "CA"
It is time for the second annual application to the KIAC in Dawson City YT. Stupidly I want to replicate the trip to Gros Morne hernia busting cameras and all - a 3200+ mile outing heading perhaps to a truer north via the cities, Fargo, Winnepeg, the Prairies on the Trans-Canada, bypassing the oilsands – and Newfoundland West of Northern Alberta, Playing Tag with the BC/YT border. The significance of Territorial routes numbered 1 and 2 (the Klondike Highway) stopping just short of The Top of the World Highway and Alaska.

Kerouac who?

Brigus Goes South

I was informed by the ROOMS that I didn’t get the residency at the Rockwell Kent house in Brigus. While it didn’t come as a surprise – my application was a bit scattered. I have to write them in that nanosecond of lucidity when everything comes together. If I miss it the writing becomes gibberish.

I am also sure that what I consider a normal area of exploration would be considered by them a bit excessive as I wanted to explore the entire area between Conception and Trinity Bays – well maybe giving Grates Cove and Bay de Verde a pass using Brigus as a foothold.

I was particularly interested in the “Hearts”.

I also think that I rambled a bit much – sound familiar? As for some reason I have to prove that I am not a typical CFA and know the area well. It also may not have helped that I equated – in a good way – the area around Carbonear with the US Midwest. Places people go through but rarely stop.

I thought that I didn’t have a chance really as there is only two spaces a year in Brigus but when in the infinite wisdom that endears the Rooms Corporation of Newfoundland and Labrador to the arts community, they sent out a blanket e-mail to the applicants not bothering to make it a b.c.c. I knew not only how many applied –ten - but who.

Not upset – while it may seem that when I rail against The Rooms it will be out of bitterness, anyone who has experienced the organisation will know better – as it would have facilitated my exploration of the area in which is found not only Bay Roberts but Clarke’s Beach and Dildo – although Spread Eagle is not in the peninsula but across the bay.

It is obvious that I don’t need a place to stay on the Rock anymore as I can blackmail Jim but it would add much needed lines on the C.v. and some validity to what I do –although it means nothing at the WGAS. Newfoundland isn’t as trendy as South Africa, Cambodia, or Vietnam.

I’ll apply again next year but when the moment of lucidity strikes make sure that I am ready.

Cannot get back to the flow that I had before we enter into finding playmates for our first year grads.

I was proud how I didn’t procrastinate and got down to working for the show this July, that what I had set out for myself was manageable. Fridays since few grads met me at on my official day, I would scan the 10x8 negs. Over the week-end I would work on making them look presentable – spotting, mainly. I would also print the postcards for the week. Mondays and Tuesdays were spent sending off the cards. Wednesday at school I would head over to the Service Bureau turn in my image to be printed. Thursday I would head back over and look at the test strip and wait until the next week to pick up the image and start the process again.

I was up to two images a week this way and even had leeway. If I couldn’t get there by Wednesday, then Thursday would still mean getting the image back by the next Wednesday.

It looked like the show would be printed in the time I had allotted by the end of term.

Then school impinged. Well not school, school’s sundries. The picking of the grads, threw off my advising sessions, which threw off when I could scan and get over to the service bureau. I was turning images in on Friday, which meant I couldn’t see the test strips until Wednesday, which meant not getting the final print until the next Wednesday. Every time I have tried to get back to the old work timetable something has come up which is still a remnant of choosing grads. It has been three weeks since I have picked up anything and all of a sudden I am behind schedule. I have even forgot which images I have already made and fear that I am going to repeat one.

This week won’t help, as it is Spring Break at the WGAS. We call it Spring Break I don’t know what you call the school’s version of leap year where we make a correction for starting classes for the term on a Thursday but still managing to end them on a Monday. The break is three days. I won’t be able to get back on schedule this week.

So like most undergrads, I am hoping to get everything together for the final push. I have revised my schedule, and am ready for some serious cramming.

So I am Daiter’s before the crowd arrives, it is Franco and me and I want to see the work. I forgot what real photograph looked like and there were a lot of them.

While the Clarence John Laughlin were visually interesting they were not all that compelling as artefacts. They simply weren’t seductive.

Meanwhile the Art Shay’s were seductive as artefacts - I kept looking at the paper the tonalities, the gloss, the grain of the film – most of the images didn’t move me content wise. That is not fair more images were good in the show than some tenure tracked faculty produce in a lifetime – ten. The show however felt more like a time piece where we were to recognise people and revel in the past. The ones I preferred didn’t do that there were out of the time frame – sort of a continuous present.

Since I had time to look though I was caught up in the way the technique aided or hurt the images. In the Laughlin they hurt them in the Shays they helped.

Again I was reminded of the all inclusiveness of the medium and how now most of his images wouldn’t be made as the lens wasn’t sharp enough and the film too grainy. They were effective though. I also know that I am speaking from a future with more options but while I like progress – some wise arsed former student wrote me saying that come one we all love technology we just like to choose when we loved it – I want to keep all these options open.

I think my use of plastic cameras was to get back to the wonky les aesthetic that could be seen in some of the images. My use of older technology films and papers is to come to terms with the grain and deal with the quirks that used to be so prevalent and thus personal.

I kept staring so long that Paul came up and we started to chat. I mentioned that I couldn’t put my finger on it but the silver prints were so…( really I couldn’t explain what I was thinking) and while inkjets try to imitate it, there was something about the physicality of the Shay photographs that kept me staring.

His answer was there is something about precious metals that add to the worth – physically and metaphorically to a photograph.

Left it at that as by now the gallery was filling up – people were identifying all the famous people in the pictures.

That idiot savant – if he were a savant – Rich came up to say hello. Rich was the head of Shitty 2000 in which he scammed all this money from the owner of Land’s End to pay for a year long documentation of Chicago which ended up being worse than mediocre - it gave cliché a bad name – and ended up buried in the basement of some building at U.I.C. after he promised first the Historical Society, then the Cultural Centre, then Columbia College and U of C. He tried to shake my hand, while introducing himself. I pulled mine back and walked away.

He was toting a new digital SLR.

bloggers block

Been trying to write about the mini reunion for over a week now but although I had a good time nothing memorable happened.

First Lynne left an e-mail from Montréal saying that she would be in town and could she give a talk. Due to the short notice could we meet up. This was an inkling of the department when I first arrived as people were always passing through and giving talks.

Then I get this phone call at home – one knows how much I love the phone and how I cannot recognise voices over it. After about five minutes it was Franco who was also returning to Chicago for a bit to see his son. HE wanted to get together with Barbara and John. I mentioned that Lynne would also be in town so. We would all see if we could meet up.

Kept getting flashbacks of the former days as Andrew e-mailed informing me that the cricketing world cup was going to start and he was rooting against England – mentioned that one day cricket it worthy of the kits they wear which look like jammies.

The talk was as usual, those who came liked it, those who came to be seen left early. I had to go back to teaching Lynne tried to recall some Proustian memories while wandering the department – that Madeleine was well mouldy by now.

Likewise lunch the next day was nothing special we headed down to the cafeteria in the museum and chatted, she, Andrew and me for three hours. We chatted about everything. The conversation kept coming, the conservation wasn’t the typical self absorbed type of the new ‘tute but well rounded.

Tried for days to figure out how to write about nothing special or the old normal.

Returning from picking the new grads on Sunday there was a message from Lynne – Barbara’s studio to-morrow – Monday 6PM. Wasn’t really up to heading back in the city mainly because this would mean I would be in Chicago ten days straight – three is too much for me.

Everyone was at Barbaras we looked at work, passed on gossip, I tried not to go on a tirade about the school of the Welsh real estate magnate. It was a given that the retirees wouldn’t set up in it anymore. The closest they get is the museum. Couldn’t blame them. But outside of who is still there it didn’t come up.

The perfect summation of the evening and the psyche of the old department came up and I – despite my inclination – was going to be precise.

Don’t know how it came up but someone mentioned that Ken had a saltshaker sent to him by Joy with Robert’s ashes in it. Barbara produced the same package.

So there we were all passing around a saltshaker with Heinecken’s remains over wine, me thinking the new department would be too self aware to do something like this. With Heinecken there all we needed was Joy and some of Fred’s remains.

Dinner had us going to a hotel restaurant until the Canadians revolted and we made a run for Santorini – their excuse being they rarely have Greek food in Montréal. Lynne had mentioned Jacques Tati in her lecture now we were living it. we park the two cars at the Crown Plaza – a valet comes up gives the drivers a ticket then turns the cars around. We enter the restaurant – now wondering why were are here – announce that there are six of us and while the hostess is finding us a table we make a run for Greek Town, Lynne stating that we had the wrong restaurant as we try to get the cars back and we take turns entering and leaving the hotel via various revolving doors.

Again nothing spectacular about the evening, simple quiet conversation, everyone acting as if it hadn’t been up to a decade since some of us had seen each other. There was no trying to impress each other with our endeavours but quiet passing of the evening.

As I said I was going to have the ashes stand for the unofficial reunion but that Friday at Stephen Daiter Gallery. While looking at the work Franco asked if any other people from the department would be there.

- No. This is too photographic for them. Was my answer.

Sure enough while Ken and Suzanne, Barbara and John, Franco and Jim Zanzi from sculpture were there no new photo faculty showed up. My guess was they were too busy earning brownie points at Schneider the week before.

Now while the department of photography is supposedly dealing with the medium we don’t want to deal with the uncool parts, the parts which makes photography different than other visual media. Well unless we can talk about how influential it is as an arbitrator of taste and bender of wills. We can talk about them a great deal we simply don’t make them.

Left for the train taking out Joãozão and trying to make snaps - it was dark no one would see me.

Up

A bit.

So no need to panic, it was a nice day – maybe too nice as the sun is trying to appear meaning that my angles will be limited - I can head back to Lake Geneva this time dropping my post off at the Powers Lake post office thinking that it was on the lake. It had moved.

This time it was Ubaldo along with Joãozão who came along for the ride as the underlining plan was to now designate Joãozão as the cheap film camera, it would – for the time being – be the camera that will use the Arista.edu in an attempt to economise. it will the notation camera.

Retrace my steps hoping to find a yellow box along the way. Park more or less in the same space at Lake Geneva but enter the lake where I exited the day before.

It was thankfully over cast but 3C and no snow meaning that the urban area was populated. I was trying to remember and re photograph what I had seen the day before but I knew that would be impossible with all those people about.

Well not all those people. I was thinking the myth of the upper Midwest where we are supposed to relish winter and the cold, skidoo-ing, ice fishing, cross country skiing. So where was everybody? My guess was that there were 30 people on the ice. I realise that Lake Geneva is where the FIBS come to play but again this is the time that the locals relish – no nasal whining, no Land of Lincoln number plates this time of year is almost perfect.

Nevertheless, there were too many people to keep out of the image frame. People comparing holes, looking at portable shelters, lugging things back and forth, Due to the warmth fishers even abandoning their huts to fish en plein aire.

I wandered to the remote unibomber huts really in the middle of the lake out where there were no tracks where the huts – two – seemed to have been since the lake froze over. It seemed that I was closer to Williams Bay than Lake Geneva.

Today I was out longer I kept doubling back to the chalet city when it looked like it was depopulating or at least people were shifting areas allowing me to attempt a photograph or two.

Forgot to stay away from the drilled holes and got a foot wet as it broke through one that was barely frozen over.

Photograph a man who made the mistake of talking to me. He also told me why there was this “built up area” – shallow water more fish come to feed.

Then found out that I was running out of film.

In running out of the house I thought that I had taken more good film but I had taken equal amounts of good and artista.edu. I was out of the good. I had to ration the film meaning that I was seeing more potential images, and deviating more – a stroll through the alleys close to the lake. I also wanted to head out on Powers Lake.

Not to worry I’ll use the cheap film - $1.40/roll versus $2.80/roll – on Powers Lake.

Powers Lake was deserted. There was a Verizon telephone van on the loading ramp with someone having lunch – a Wisconsin version of the Newfoundland nod when I pass. No tracks were leading to any of the chalets. They were arranged pretty much in a shallow crescent shape. It is powers Lake that we always hear about someone falling through.

I was going to take the 10x8 Hobo out to use up the film as I reckoned that none of what I was photographing would move that quickly, in the end I am glad I talked myself out of it due to the amount of images I made.

Then Joãozão started to act up. the shutter started to sound strange. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the change in sound came but once on land walking to photograph a tavern I looked into the shutter to see if it was opening.

It wasn’t. I would develop the film to see if it was mistaken but if this was the case, it would be the end of this camera, and I have pretty much decided not replace it with one of the three that I have found on the internet. This is not counting the one “Y” found as it is not a 67W which is important as I wanted that wide angle lens but a mere 67.I would simply rely on Ubaldo and Ziquinho.

A man parked his truck, got out his gear and headed out on the lake.

A car turned into the boat launch had a look at the lake and left.

The man from Verizon turned on the motor and drove off

I photographed a chalet stored in a parking space at the boat ramp.

I photographed the tavern, its sign across County Trunk F, some resort formalism before heading, holding the packs in my hand until I was safely in the car.

for AMM now P of 53545

Flânerie sur glace

Up…and down.


It is about this time of year when I remember that it is winter and I should be out experiencing things winter like.

So I pack Joãozão and a box of film into the Saturn that seems to be ok now head out to the lake country with little errands along the way – drop off the colour film at Woodman’s, head over to the post office.

The lakes because this time of year there is all this extra real estate with them freezing over and while it has been done before, I wanted to continue to photograph the ice fishing chalets as a social experience rather than a cataloguing.

Starting out my goal was Powers Lake as it is always secluded and pretty empty, I was imagining a ghost town of chalets. I became more ambitious and far ranging thinking Lake Geneva for its vastness then the Williams Bay section of the lake and finally – why not – Delavan Lake.

Settled on Lake Geneva parking downtown which always remided me a of down and out British sea coast resort, Most shops were closed, there was a melting snow sculpture exhibit at the Riviera pier where one tried to picture what they were before they started to disintegrate. I was helped along by the placards which weathered the environment better than the sculptures.

By the public beach warnings of thin ice but further out the chalets, the ATVs and at time full size pick-ups. Wandered up the road until I found the place where the tyre tracks lead out and ventured onto the ice.

Ah that first step, with the snow I couldn’t tell were land ended and water began. The area with it shades of whiteness looked more pristine than the corn stubbled fields I had passed.

Grey day tricky lighting due to all the white, I for some reason brought a light meter then proceeded to ignore it, mimicking my working method of the time I was wandering the British seacoast.

It was trying to snow with varying degrees of success. I was in an ice prairie theme park that was nearly deserted.

Great time photographing the chalets, the tracks the cleared spots on the ice where there was once a hut, the ice fishing flags making sure that I used the length of the lake as a near infinity setting.

Started at the “outskirts” - individual chalets with considerable space between them toward the middle of the lake – then headed into a more “urban area”. Here there were the trucks, some temporary tents, one gent sitting out in the open on a bucket and less of the constructed buildings in the more isolated area at times it flet like the ice version of cottage country. One person had built a snow man family outside their building.

Feeling pretty pleased with myself as I was out making snaps again and for once I didn’t forget to get out on the lakes.


With my feet finally waterlogged, headed back, picked up the film, and went home to prepare for the week. Threw the my courier bag down leaving the numbering of the film until later.

Later came, I went to the bag to retrieve the box of film and couldn’t find it. Thinking this a product of my week-day multitasking, I search the house, the car, the garage. I turn the bag inside out pretending that I am a TSA agent looking for airplane contraband. I clean my room.

I cannot find the box of film. I try to mentally retrace my steps thinking of where I saw the film last, where I changed rolls, could it have hit the snow and me not hear it?

Didn’t sleep.