I’m a sucker for these places. There is nothing like an eroded sandstone beach to bring out the rock-sea-sky photographer in me. I have a grand time in shapely erosion. Yes, I know, there is no original statement I can make from this material. It’s all been done before, and how, especially here. The name of this particular beach: Weston Beach, at Pt. Lobos.
I work so hard to extract form out of complexity, to put myself in a difficult natural environment and try and tease something out of the mess. I finish with a kind of mental exhaustion and spiritual exhilaration. Then I get on this beach, with the layers of color eroded just so to suggest, well, anything you want. I point a camera, anywhere. There’s a composed abstraction. I move two inches. Another. And another. The light is the kindest light of all, fogbound and soft. I might as well be shooting fish in a barrel.
Since I can’t quiet the voice in my head that is yelling, "What are you doing this for?" I just give it license to prattle on, judgmental little art snob twit that it is, while I go have a grand time slumming on the beach making my mini-Weston-Bullock-White masterpieces. I know, of course, that they’re not masterpieces. I’m just having a fun time seeing cool forms and capturing the experience. Robin looks through the take that evening, and says, "You know, they’re not leaving me with anything.I’m used to your pictures having more resonance." Looking at the work, I’d agree. They’re as easy to look at as they were to take.
You can see a batch on my Flickr site.
Not every day has to break new ground artistically. Connecting with your inner Weston is OK too. I like the shots a lot. I especially like the first one on your flickr set.
Jack Nelson
http://flickr.com/photos/mexiculture/
Posted by: | March 16, 2007 at 08:47 PM
Sometimes I wish I had never heard of or seen any other photographer. Now that I have, I seem to be caught up in it, even to the point of surfing the Internet to see other photographers' works.
To me, it seems that once we are exposed, our own work is basically tainted, if not ruined. We are always comparing. Just as you were in your post. The idea expressed in the first comment about "new ground artistically" shows what I mean. Once we know what else is "out there," we become driven to created something "new." And just what is "new"? And why is "new" valuable and important?
I like when you say you "try and tease something out of the mess." Isn't that all any of us can do? That, and try as you did to eliminate that voice in our head that tries its best to ruin our creative efforts.
Posted by: Howard | March 18, 2007 at 06:20 AM
Howard,
I'm going to have to take you to task about your reluctance to expose yourself to other work. There is no other way we can grow as artists except by seeing what shoulders there are to stand on, and what riffs are out there that we can borrow and make our own. I'm a big fan of informed artmaking, and my point in the post is that it need not get in the way of engaging with what is compelling at the moment. If I didn't know the body of California modernist work done in this arena, I would think I was reinventing the best wheel in the universe. As it is, I could be aware of this tradition, but go ahead and do what made me feel good anyway.
Posted by: Doug Plummer | March 18, 2007 at 08:57 AM