If what Grounded presents in pencil sketch is important, why not photograph it? Perhaps to say that a photograph can cut short clarity like it can bisect body parts and for better or worse we sometimes have to sketch in what is not there.
Category: Camera Reality
“Changes and experiences that were incredibly difficult for me are, in hindsight, beautiful and full of meaning and rooted in that landscape and with those neighbors. I still mourn that place and question leaving—it has a piece of my heart and always will.”
If Wipe Your Nose Sugar Boy is situated within Southern Gothic themes, Albain wastes no time getting directly to one of its most central themes—religion. […] Vanity plates and discarded signs indicate that Wipe Your Nose Sugar Boy is set at least in part, in Tennessee. A dead bird, tattered things covered in tarps, and overgrown fauna that follow suggest that in Albain’s South, the gospel is less about prosperity and more about the realism of muted gray tones.
“I want to work through the visual problem of not what a photograph is of, but what it is about and how do I, as a viewer and maker, understand, appreciate, and create that meaning from the experience of viewing. Is the photograph a neutral space in which we are being invited in, or is it charged with meaning and we are expected to respond in whatever way we think is appropriate. It can be difficult.”
Each short chapter of Maximum Sunlight is an account of an encounter with a resident of the town—anecdotal stories of drunkenness, lost jobs, skin heads, juke boxes, the government, and resilience. Each chapter is like the edges of a photograph—sometimes abruptly dissecting and at times cutting short what happened outside the frame or the rest of the story.
A place like Ohio leaves enough space for Ohio Country even if unintentionally, to be political—not necessarily about politicians and constituents but rather, regarding public affair. Like the subject matter in the context of the camera frame, Ohio Country exists in the context of political turmoil in America.
Macau 5.0 acts as summative detail of a place and its people as reported with about as much straight forward clear purposed objectivity as a camera can muster.
In “Everything is Going to Be All Right” Jared Ragland reflects on his personal history living in the American South and visually narrates the existential journey of Walker Percy’s character, Binx Bolling from the 1961 novel, The Moviegoer.
“In my work and in my life, I’m interested in how we can choose to live with the things unknown, how we proceed forward anyway even amidst the things that we can’t know yet, or may never know.”
“I sometimes find it seemingly impossible to escape this infiltrative schema of influence/interest/conviction… but it’s a crucial and constant excercise to view from outside of the goggles fashioned by upbringing, systems of belief and a personal everyday sense of doom.”
Photographs are product of seeing—another circle with an ephemeral horizon. McCarty’s instant film images like Emerson’s Romantic perspective, are a collective approximation uncertain of our individual existence whose perspective changes and creates a duality of what was and what is—a doubling back on reason.
Regarding this photography with strong themes of the authentic self—autobiography is hindering photography’s ability to create particular truths understood through metaphor and has been lost to an attempt at authentic personal narrative, especially a narrative of specificity and narrow margins of universality.
I take from [Thoreau] a sharp focus on the near-at-hand, the excitement and adventure that can be had daily in one’s own neighborhood. […] Robert Adams suggested that we should explore the “half-wild” nature that now surrounds us, as “unspoiled nature” no longer exists. The suburb, which is often criticized as a path to destroy nature, is a rich area to explore the intersections between humans and nature.
[E]mpty plastic chairs and the photographs that conflate NYC urban with Texas rural suggest, even if lacking self-awareness, that adversity is universal and a rural to urban relationship has existed for a long while in America. Bleak and self-examining is in many ways, contemporary American photography. Muddy Waters by Jamie Brett wants something more—a good place to begin a journey when it is your own.
As much intersubjective agreement as possible. Pictures Without Words Volume 001, Issue 001 includes work by Michael Adno, Mark Albain, Eddy Leonel Aldana, Rachael Banks, Paulo Batalha, Filip Bojovic, Craig Buchanan, Ashleigh Coleman, Anastasia Davis, Paul Deville, Elicia Epstein, Jen Ervin, Conner Gordon, Natalie Krick, Sven Laurent, Devin Lunsford, Lisa McCarty, Jennifer McClure, Zora J. Murff, Ellie Musgrave, John Sanderson, Tatum Shaw, Arturo Soto, Francesco Taurisano, Adam Thorman, and Marie Wengler.