AMP

Charlie Ward is doing a series of interviews with various photographers in an effort to discover which photography books have had the most impact on us. You can read my response below (and also on the Little Brown Mushroom blog):

“The first photo book I can remember having a lasting impact on me would have to be my family’s photo album. I imagine my thrill upon its initial discovery was largely narcissistic, but the album played a major role in how I came to understand my identity, my past, and the formation of my earliest memories. The album itself is as thick as a phone book. The front cover is baby-duck yellow and says ‘Family Album’ in an embellished font, complete with photographs of some generic family enjoying an autumn picnic. Its thick adhesive pages were once a creamy white but have since gone yellowish-brown, a prime example of non-archival storage. The album starts right off with my birth and goes until I am about four or five years old. I think I noticed the album when I was around six, and revisited its contents once a week, experiencing what I can only imagine was a twisted sense of false nostalgia. Yes, I was six, reminiscing about the ‘good ‘ol days’. I kept looking through the album until it was memorized and I still don’t understand why I was so obsessed with it. Any way, no book of photography has affected or moved me in a similar way since. If I was to pick a commercially available photo book: Chronologies by Richard Misrach.”

Since I haven’t seen that photo album for some time, I asked my mother to take a picture of it and send it to me.

Turns out my memory isn’t so good after all. My overall impression was correct, but when I tried to remember specifics, I was wrong several times over. A perfect case of photography ‘correcting’ a memory.

New Year's Eve, 2007

Over the holiday break I went back home to my friends and family in Minneapolis. I’m not sure if it was the holiday spirit or what, but man, we went out A LOT. Like every night. The holiday break also coincided with me purchasing my first digital point-and-shoot, which has become pretty important to my photographic process. For years I would just shoot my old Olympus Stylus point-and-shoot on Tri-X or Astia. So suddenly, photography is back into my life–and in a big way. This makes me re-think some of my earlier thoughts on photography and it’s relationship to the way we experience the world. In the past I’ve argued that it can cause quite an interruption, but I’m ready to argue the other side now.

Photography Studio ~ 1890's

Let me explain. I believe that in photography’s early days (mid 1800’s up until the end of the century), the process of photography was the same as the experience. Many people were photographed just for the experience of being photographed. Thus, I would argue that the interruption of experience through photography was minimal–in most cases the interruption was THE experience. (Terrible Contemporary Analogy = Television is our everyday life experience, and commercials are photography. What I’m saying is that upon the invention/discovery of commercials, people wanted to watch to the commercials just to see what they were like–to experience the watching of a commercial. Only after their newness wore off did commercials become an interruption).

Walker Evans, Subway Passengers, 1938

However, as photography became more and more integrated into modern life, it became more and more of an interruptive pause in experience. Hardly can a family have a group outing without the breaks of posing for the snapshot.

However, my experience with a particular cultural subset (call them Generation Y, Hipsters, or anyone born after 1980) leads me to believe that there is a new contemporary experience of photography that does not treat the technology as an interruption, but rather as a supplement to the experience.

Nan Goldin, Rise and Monty on the lounge chair, NYC, 1988

I believe that this cultural and photographic trend can be traced back to a genre of street photography–’shooting from the hip’. Photography is at it’s most disruptive when your vision is physically interrupted by the camera. A foreign object is placed between you and one of your sensory organs. However, when held to the side, or really anywhere other then in front of your eyes, it simply becomes a supplement–not a replacement.

Lee Friedlander, New York City, 1966

At parties and clubs, I now see cameras and phones being punched upward, attempting to capture a scene that the photographer is unable to see with their own eyes. Due to the fast feedback loop of digital cameras, the rising popularity of DIY documentation, and the omnipresence of cameras, this has quickly become a common sight.

Ryan McGinley, Morrissey 3, 2004

This use of the camera also serves as a supplemental documentation to what may otherwise be a foggy recollection. In fact, if one’s brain-memory fails (which happens more than we’d like it to), the camera-memory can actually supplant itself in the brain memory and serve as THE representation of the original experience.

Underwear Party, 2008

I’m still undecided if this is a good or bad trend. I’m not one to propagate the myth of an ‘original experience’, but I’m also hesitant to trust our memories to consumer electronics.

I realize I’m a little late on the list-train, but I thought I’d chip in my two cents regardless. Here’s what I think are the best albums from the last decade, in chronological order. If you missed out on any of these, you best retrace your steps. For reference, I’m a white male pushing 30.

Grandaddy – The Sophtware Slump (2000)
Badly Drawn Boy – The Hour of Bewilderbeast (2000)
Microphones – The Glow Pt. 2 (2001)
Sparklehorse – It’s a Wonderful Life (2001)
The Postal Service – Give Up (2002)
The Wrens – The Meadowlands (2003)
The Streets – A Grand Don’t Come For Free (2004)
Cut Copy – Bright Like Neon Love (2004)
Vitalic – OK Cowboy (2005)
Junior Boys – So This Is Goodbye (2006)
The Hold Steady – Boys and Girls in America (2006)
Dinosaur Jr. – Beyond (2007)
Of Montreal – Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer? (2007)
LCD Soundsystem – Sound of Silver (2007)
Shocking Pinks – Shocking Pinks (2007)
Nouns – No Age (2008)

I haven’t listened to any new music in the past year I guess, so I’ve got some catching up to do. Recommendations?

T minus one week until the TRG shitstorm hits Minneapolis. We’re celebrating the release of our latest EP – Pop Not Soda – available as a 10″ record + digital download. For those who aren’t in-the-know, Tim Rally Gold is the band I’ve been part of since 2003. I’ve had some fun in the past weeks making posters, screen printing, and coming up with the set lists. If you’re around the Twin Cities this holiday season, there is absolutely no excuse you shouldn’t attend at least one of the following shows…

Buy the album here–t-shirts available at the shows, will add them to the online store soon.

Tim Rally Gold – Winter in Minneapolis Tour 2009
12/20/09 @ The Triple Rock w/Zombie Season, The Brutes, and Kunkel
12/23/09 @ The Nomad – Festivus celebration
12/26/09 @ The Hexagon – RECORD RELEASE SHOW w/Red Pens, Ten Ton Bridge, and At Any Speed
12/30/09 @ The Red Stag – Hump Day w/DJ Millions Billions

An artist living in New York City is like a kid living in the cereal aisle of a grocery store–faced with seemingly unlimited choices, many bright and colorful, and most crap. I’ve tried to do my best filtering, but there is still an overwhelming number of good exhibitions to see.

Josh Brand, Untitled, 2009, Unique C-print, (14 x 11 in)

‘Processed – Considering Recent Photographic Practices’ is an exhibition at Hunter College based around more experimental processes (think more Walead Beshty, less Edward Steichen). Curator Amie Scally has done a pretty good job of highlighting some lesser-known artists (and White Columns alums) along with bigger names like Wolfgang Tillmans and Marco Breuer. Josh Brand’s work is both beautiful and understated, comprised of small photogram experiments. I was also surprised by Jennifer West’s work. Her films were transferred to DVD and digitally projected in the gallery. This was enough to pique my interest in her work, but ultimately left me unsatisfied. For an artist that creates unique 70mm films by painting, scratching, and staining the actual film stock, the DVD transfer was pretty far removed from the actual piece. I imagine it would be analagous to hanging a large photograph of a Rothko in lieu of the actual canvas–sure, the picture is there, but it’s not the real thing, and it’s obviously been compromised. If anyone knows where I can see some actual projects of Jennifer’s work, let me know–I feel like it would be a real pleasure to see.

If you’re a fan of the similar shows currently up at the Met and MoMA, this show is definitely worth a trip. Check it out–it’s up until December 12th. Details here.

Jack Goldstein – “A Suite of Nine 7-inch Records with sound effects,” 1976

I’ve been bouncing back and forth between the roles of artist and musician for some time now, and the bouncing always leads to doubts about unfocused talent, spreading oneself too thin, and simply not having enough energy to commit to such both activities. For me, these anxieties subside when I realize that there are different goals for each activity, and each practice has a different, yet equal, outcome.

Here’s my for-instance:

As an artist, I often begin working cerebrally. I’ll think about an idea or a concept and brainstorm how I would manifest it materially. I then work with those materials, sometimes drunk, sometimes with loud music playing, always enjoying it, until I feel like I’m getting somewhere. I then try to recreate it, refine it, and perfect it. Because the end result of an art object is often the exhibition of it in a sterile gallery setting, my choices and actions must be determined and focused on the success of communicating my message and/or experience. In short, the success of my own art is often how well I can defend the choices and decisions that go into it’s creation. This results in a big difference between the creation of the work and the reception of the work.

As a musician, I almost always begin working materially. I’ll get together with friends, talk, drink, and play on our respective instruments. We’ll figure out song structures, cobble together lyrics, and rehearse it until we can play it a couple times in a row, and it still sounds like the same song. Then we’ll commit it to tape. Then we play it live, in front of friends, drinking, and enjoying the company. For some reason the space between the creation and reception of the music seems to be smaller.

A few possible reasons for the difference:

* Some people may argue that with the advent of recording technology, the final reception for music is now the recorded product, and not the live performance. I understand that point, but I still stand to disagree.
* Even still, my music recording experience has never been stressful or serious–I’ve often approached it with a ‘good enough’ attitude.
* This could very well be a material issue. For the musician choosing to work with samples and sequencers, programming can be a very repetitive and focused commitment. Very different from a musician who bleeds ‘feeling’.

Other artist/musicians: thoughts?

‘Mono’. Pigmented ink print, 14″ x 14″, 2009.

Quick Italian lesson: ’studio’ means ‘I study’ (conjugated from ’studiare’). I’ve been trying to study as much as possible lately, but I feel my efforts have born little fruit. But a couple nuggets have emerged–for instance–I created a new site-specific piece at the Camera Club of New York. Parts of it are continually exposing throughout the course of the exhibition. It’s up until October 30th, but if you can’t make it–here’s a quick pic of what it looks like (nicely coupled with Dan Estabrook’s images on the left):

Installation view at the Camera Club of New York’s exhibition ‘First Impression’

I’ve also been working on some new work in my own studio—a new suite of prints titled ‘Ultra Violet‘, as well as a couple one-off’s (continuing my interest in the crossover between sound and vision):

Ultra Violet work prints on the walls of my studio–each print is 20″ x 20″

Are you an artist living and working in New York? Let’s arrange some studio visits!

I’m not sure what angle the ad-execs at J. Crew are trying to play, but for October’s 2009 J. Crew catalog, they’ve enlisted photographer Jason Schmidt to shoot artists modeling J. Crew garb. Included are the ever-fashionable Ryan McGinness, Chris Dorland, Lucien Smith, Vito Acconci, Glenn Ligon, Billy Sullivan, and most hilariously, Stephen Shore. PDN also chips in.

Untitled, 2008 © Michelle Kloehn

Just a heads-up that I’ll have a piece in the upcoming exhibition ‘First Impression’ at the Camera Club of New York. This would make my first public exhibition in New York City, pretty much within a year to-the-day of moving here. I installed my piece over the weekend and just saw the rest of the work today–it’s going to be a conceptually tight and visually stimulating show. Read the press release here.

The opening is this Wednesday, September 16th, from 6-8PM. The Camera Club is located at 336 W 37th Street, 2nd Floor. Come out, show your support, and be part of the art (part of my piece will be exposing throughout the course of the exhibition).

Also, there will be a panel discussion with the artists, the curator Michael Mazzeo, and Russell Lord, a Fellow at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The talk is at the School of Visual Arts Amphitheater on Tuesday, September 22nd, at 7PM. The admission is $10 for the general public (but I’ll buy you a beer afterwards)–otherwise get to work on your fake SVA student ID.

So, to recap, there are two dates you should be aware of:
* Wednesday, September 16th, 6-8PM @ Camera Club of New York (336 W 37th St) – First Impression exhibition opening
* Tuesday, September 22nd, 7PM @ School of Visual Arts Amphitheater (333 W 23rd St) – Panel discussion with artists, curator, and resident smart-guy

The 80’s was not a kind decade for anything besides Cocaine. Rock-stars felt the burn especially bad, the Beatles included. For instance, George Harrison turned in what could be laziest video performance ever:

Ringo’s contributions were far better than the disastrous 70’s, but that’s only because the other Beatles helped write him songs…

Lennon–well, he missed out on a good portion of the 80’s for good reason. But, he still managed to squeak out this stinker (more in terms of the video vs. the song):

And somehow, amid all this mess, Paul McCartney managed to make a pretty rad contribution to the canon of Christmas songs (I would love to hear a group of caroler’s take on this):