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.
Category: Camera Reality
Strant is continuing its series titled Pictures Without Words–the idea being the desire for as much intersubjective agreement as possible. Submissions deadline for VOL 001, ISS 002 is 05/31/17. Pictures Without Words VOL 001, ISS 002 will be published July 2017.
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.
“That was really the big prize in my mind. Making photographs and recouping some of your financial losses … meant that you were reaching a big audience and that was the point of being a photographer.”
“[T]here is a momentum that accumulates and feeds movement in a certain direction, it increases in volume and amasses responses or reactions that underscore it. Then there is a period of deflation. During the deflation period the original form is intact and the idea of momentum in present, if only by reference, but the direction slightly changes to accommodate the specific set of circumstances of that time.”