Night as white space

"Motel MO" from my State Street project

So many photographers have inherited the zone-system anxiety about what constitutes "good" exposure that they begin to treat every photograph as if it were meant to be an Ansel Adams landscape. "Blown-out" highlights are evil! Details in the shadows are good! Have you heard that type of talk? Do you hear it in your head when you look at your own work? If so, it might be time to consider the graphic qualities of photography as opposed to its painterly qualities.

If I were to declare one absolute here, it would be that when people say there is only one right way to make art they are absolutely wrong. If you want to take hauntingly beautiful photos with seamlessly nuanced tones à la Michael Kenna —and who wouldn't? I adore Kenna—then you will definitely want to avoid blown out highlights or darkness with no detail. But if you want to try something more akin to graphic design, you might want to embrace darkness (that's right, come to the dark side!) as a design element: white space.

Another "Motel MO" shot with even more "white space"

An excellent little post about white space in graphic design explains that "white space does not hold content [...] and yet it gives meaning, through context, to both image and text." In its original printing press context, white space represents extravagance, luxury, or squandered space, depending on your attitude. If your top priority is cramming as much information on a page as possible due to the per-page cost of a publication, then white space is just a lost opportunity. If, on the other hand, you want to convey simplicity and elegance, then white space does the talking for you. A corollary in wedding album design is that the most timeless and elegant albums tend to have the fewest photos. But when you think about it, the aesthetic is grounded in economic realities of mass produced printing. Keith Robertson's post notes that clutter has come to represent the working class and that white space is associated with the upper class. "So," he posits, "the quality aesthetic has been hijacked by bourgeois ideology..." Fascinating. When was the last time you thought about the ideological implications of design?

"Copper Vu" from my State Street project

The argument gets more complicated in the domain of photography, however. I suspect that the white space as hi-brow/clutter as low-brow opposition holds true in the original printing context, but gets more complicated in painting, interior design, fashion, and photography. For example, can we say that Jacques Louis-David's neoclassical paintings are more highbrow than the rococo work of Antoine Watteau? Is a home luxuriously overflowing with antiques more low-brow than stark minimalism? Is Calvin Klein more hi-brow than Versace?

It all comes down to your frame of reference (I highly recommend the book Predictably Irrational for many examples of how the frame of reference guides our thinking) Imagine, for example, a painting, a very painterly photograph, and a photograph that looks like something you might see in a newspaper. In that context, people would be more likely to value the painterly photograph as superior. In other words, if tradition has encouraged us to value painting over graphic design, and if we subconsciously assess a photograph in that context, we will may end up thinking that pure black and stark white are inferior to subtle gradients.

I could go on and on, but instead, I will encourage you to think about white space in night photography. Personally, I have a much easier time embracing a black night sky than accepting a blown-out white sky. When I look at a photo like this one, however, I realize that I should play around more with completely white white space in photography.

If you are working on night photography this month, see what happens when you embrace the dark as a design element rather than fear it as a flaw.

Your commute

The reason I chose "seeing the invisible" as the focus this month was to make myself get back to working on a project I started more than a year ago. The project involves looking at Utah through one street (appropriately named "State Street"). I often drive on State on my way to work, and when the freeway is too busy, I use State on my way to Salt Lake City. Other photographers have done projects about Highway 89 (of which State is a part), but those tend to focus on beautiful nature scenes. To my knowledge, nothing has been done on the much less picturesque sections that run through the cities, and yet those are the sights the majority of Utahns see every day.

My personal goal is to turn my project into a book/exhibit within the next year or so. I don't expect people to want my State photos as home décor (well, not most people), but I do think it will be a good way to appreciate the unique identity of Utah. As I stop to look at the things I drive past at 55 mph (um, I mean, 45, officer, and sometimes 30).

Try it. Take a street that is part of your daily commute or a street that defines your city in some way. Try to notice something you would overlook. Try taking a photo that is not conventionally beautiful. See if changes your perspective.

Last Friday, I visited a friend in SLC. I took my camera and I took State instead of I-15. Here are a few of the photos:

"Don't ask"

The patriotic mailboxes first caught my attention, but the sign is what makes the photo:
This is NOT 802. DON'T ASK.

There's a story there.

"Mental Iron"

The stark graphics of a shadow cast by a speed limit sign on this wrecking ball intrigue me.

"Fire Proof"

I know that many people will not find these photos appealing, but keep in mind that I love photographers such as William Eggleston, John Gossage, and Stephen Shore. It's not every day that you see "fire proof" as a primary selling point. Or that you see filing cabinets outside next to a mountainscape.

"American"

An old Rambler for sale outside of a vacant auto repair shop.

"5"

Right off of 45 mph State, this is the visual equivalent of having 4 locks on your door.

"Yard Sale"

Only in Utah.

Saints and Sinners

Penance
My posts have been less frequent than ever this month, so I thought I'd do penance with a triptych called "saints and sinners." The width of the photo is such that I can't post it larger than this, but what you see is a scene from a Salt Lake City street. Let me break it down...

The "Temple City" motel sign caught my eye. The photo at right captures a sort of nostalgia for a very different Salt Lake City than the one that has clubs like the aptly named "Saints and Sinners" one right next door to the motel.


The photo at left better illustrates decay—both in the sign itself (because the close up shows the worn paint much better) and, more obviously, in the juxtaposition of the religious theme and the billboard for a peep show behind the sign.


The bouncers at the "Saint and Sinners" club (incidentally the "A private club for members" subtitle is rife with irony for those who know Utah Mormon culture) were wary of my photo taking. When that happens, I tend to go straight to the person rather than retreat. So I walked up to the bouncers and told them that I thought the best-named club in Utah. They laughed and that was that. My great regret was not getting the picture with the bouncers in front.

Projects
My triptych is not only my ironic penance for a lack of posts recently, it also represents one of the reasons: namely, that I am working on a project about Utah culture that I hope to complete within a year. The other main reason for my lack of posts is that my family and I are getting ready to spend three months in Paris. We leave next week and we still have loads to do before then. I will be teaching a photography class to study abroad students in Paris so I'm sure there will be fun things to share.

A lesson to be learned?
I have a strong attachment to Paris and have had practically no attachment whatsoever to Utah until recently. Working on a Utah-based photo project has helped me appreciate the state on its own terms. This is one of my favorite things about photography. Whenever I have a project, I am forced to pay attention to my surroundings and I come to appreciate them more.

My "Monthly Special" format makes me focus my attention on different things each month. Even when I'm less productive with posts, my in-between moments (like driving to work) are often occupied with thoughts of the month's theme.

And speaking of "Monthly Special" themes....this post is also a hint about next month's project. No, it's not religion (although that would be a good theme). Comments? A guess?