Photographs and thoughts on photography and camera collecting
Louis-Jacques-Mandé Daguerre was born on 18 November 1787 in Cormeilles-en-Parisis, Val-d’Oise, France. Best known as one of the first pioneers of photography he was also an accomplished painter, businessman and advocate of the diorama.
His positive daguerrotype process for a while dominated photography until ultimately supplanted by William Henry Fox Talbot‘s, negative calotype process.
Above: Untitled from The Democratic Forest, c. 1983-1986. Pigment print, 44 x 60 inches (111.8 x 152.4 cm)
At the David Zwirner gallery:
Over the course of nearly six decades, William Eggleston—often referred to as the “father of color photography”—has established a singular pictorial style that deftly combines vernacular subject matter with an innate and sophisticated understanding of color, form, and composition.
Eggleston has said, “I am at war with the obvious.” His photographs transform the ordinary into distinctive, poetic images that eschew fixed meaning. Though criticized at the time, his now legendary 1976 solo exhibition, organized by the visionary curator John Szarkowski at The Museum of Modern Art, New York—the first presentation of color photography at the museum—heralded an important moment in the medium’s acceptance within the art-historical canon and solidified Eggleston’s position in the pantheon of the greats alongside Henri Cartier-Bresson, Robert Frank, and Walker Evans.
Published on the occasion of David Zwirner’s New York exhibition of selections from The Democratic Forest in the fall of 2016, this new catalogue highlights over sixty exceptional images from Eggleston’s epic project. His photography is “democratic” in its resistance to hierarchy where, as noted by the artist, “no particular subject is more or less important than another.”
Featuring original scholarship by Alexander Nemerov, this notable presentation of The Democratic Forest provides historical context for a monumental body of work, while offering newcomers a foothold in Eggleston’s photographic practice.
Source: The Democratic Forest » David Zwirner
There’s also an accompanying book: William Eggleston: The Democratic Forest, Selected Works.
Spirit photograph of Arthur Conan Doyle taken by the ‘spirit photographer’ Ada Deane in 1922, the same year in which Conan Doyle’s The Coming of the Fairies was published via The Public Domain Review
In the winter of 1920, readers of the popular British magazine the Strand found a curious headline on the cover of their Christmas issues. “FAIRIES PHOTOGRAPHED,” it said. “AN EPOCH-MAKING EVENT DESCRIBED BY A. CONAN DOYLE.” The Strand’s readership was well acquainted with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; most of his wildly popular Sherlock Holmes stories had appeared for the first time in its pages. The great man’s claim that fairies –real fairies – had been photographed in the north of England by two young girls wa
Source: Sir Arthur and the Fairies | The Public Domain Review
The first fairy photograph, featured in Conan Doyle’s The Coming of the Fairies (1922) Via The Public Domain Review
The fairy pictures seem to me to be obvious fakes, but perhaps when photography was young this was not quite so obvious. Maybe in those days people we more willing to accept the veracity of photographs than they are today when we all know how easy it is to manipulate a photograph. Although he doesn’t seem to have been a very active photographer himself, Doyle had 13 articles on photography published by the British Journal of Photography. He also wrote a book called “The Case for Spirit Photography”.
And now to the real reason for this post. I’m feeling quite pleased with myself at the moment. Of course I’ve seen Sherlock Holmes movies and the various TV series. And I have a vague memory of having to read some Holmes in High School (as I recall I didn’t enjoy it much at the time). I can’t remember ever reading Sherlock Holmes just for the fun of it. So I’ve just worked myself through the complete Sherlock Holmes: 4 novels and 56 short stories. Phew!! For the most part I enjoyed the experience even though some of the stories were fairly ordinary.
© William Eggleston / Steidl. Source: 10 Lessons William Eggleston Has Taught Me About Street Photography
A couple of recent articles related to William Eggleston.
The first is from the New York Times: William Eggleston,the Pioneer of Color Photography
The second is from Eric Kim. I share his initial thinking about Eggleston:
I didn’t “get” the photographs. What was Eggleston photographing a bunch of random stuff for? His photos seemed to be like a bunch of random snapshots, photographed without much thought or conviction. Just the ordinary and banal things of everyday life. I wanted to punch myself in the gut for spending 300 USD for a photographic book collection that I had no interest in.I then sent Charlie a message and asked him why he enjoyed Chromes, and that I was a bit disappointed. I remember him telling me simply, “The colors are just lovely.” He didn’t say much after that. Source: 10 Lessons William Eggleston Has Taught Me About Street Photography
.
I’ve not quite come to terms with Eggleston yet. I bought a copy of William Eggleston’s Guide to see if that would help. It did to a certain extent. There’s certainly something about his photographs that makes me want to look at them again, even though I’m not entirely sure why. I’m not yet a fan, but I’m starting to warm to his work.
Source: “One Lucky, Very Lucky Shot” | THEME. Usain Bolt @ Rio Olympics 100-meter semi-final | Kai Pfaffenbach / Reuters
And no I didn’t take it! Although I’ve been to Rio a few times I wasn’t there for the Olympics. Incredibly the photographer, Kai Pfaffenbach had this to say (in a Reuters video) about his iconic picture:
The German photographer is humble about his work. In this Reuters interview he says he was “just playing around and had a bit of fun.”
See, you dead serious photographers? Start playing around and have some fun!
Let’s loosen up a bit, experiment, as the best things in life are hardly ever planned.
Pfaffenbach went for a 1/50th panning shutter speed, “trying to do some arty shot.” Framing, composition, detail and out-of-focus areas, all just perfect.
“One lucky, very lucky shot,” says Pfaffenbach.
I should be so lucky. I’m sure this photograph will go down as one of the greatest sports photographs of all time.
Grinning Usain Bolt, winning the semi-final to his third 100-meter gold medal at three consecutive Olympics (a first!), and still having ample time to smile back at his drudging, smaller-than-Bolt pursuers, captured by Pfaffenbach — simply iconic
