dispatches

The Workshop Report

Workshops are a crucial ingredient for a photographer. They formed my sensibility as as photographer early on, when I was a student at the Sun Valley Center for the Arts in Idaho in the late 70's. I still draw upon the lessons I learned from Sam Abell, over a decade ago, at the Santa Fe Workshops. I thought the pinnacle I would reach as a photographer was when I would start leading workshops myself and join that august company. Little did I realize that I would find that fulfillment at a contra dance camp.

“How To Take Dance Photos That Don't Suck,” was the ambitious title I gave to a workshop I thought to throw into the BACDS American Week schedule, in an effort to boost enrollment (I'm on the planning committee). It seems everyone takes pictures at contra dances now. Most of them are awful.

I have a few ideas on how to make them less awful, to the point that I'm self-publishing my second calendar of contra dance photos. That particular body of work appears destined to become my legacy as a photographer, if I acquire any degree of fame at all before I die. I've been photographing this subculture for over 25 years, which is as long as I've been a dancer.

What I found out is that I really like teaching. I'd never done this before, at this sustained level, meeting every day for a week. And I had a blast. My students had a blast. They grew as photographers, before my eyes. I like sharing what I know, which is apparently a lot. I like supporting these budding documentarians and photographers, regardless of the level they are when they come to the table.

Mostly, I infected them with my bias toward imagery, which is that form is as important, if not significantly more crucial, than content. That you exploit what the technology you have can do, and revel in its limitations. We had two people who shot with iPads. Four shot with their phones. I shot one night of dancing with my iPhone to demonstrate what was possible, as a kind of eat-what-you-kill exercise. There were just two DSLRs in the bunch. Only one person knew what RAW capture meant.

Obviously, this was not a technical workshop. It was a how-to-see workshop. It was a how to be conscious of the moment workshop. It didn't matter what camera you used. It was about finding the photograph. I started each session with a brief talk about an issue, in which I mostly talked extemporaneously based on what my students were coming to grips with, and then we looked at each other's work.

My biggest fear was that people would copy what I did. After the second day I ceased to show my own work. As it turned out, I had no need to worry. What was illustrative for everyone was how individualistic their work was. I believe that every photograph is, in some measure, a self portrait. You respond to what inside yourself is mirrored in the outside world, and the compelling drive for coherence is what drives your growth as a photographer. It certainly showed in the work. Everyone grew as an image maker during the week.

 I couldn't be more proud of my students. Here's what they did:

Bill Fruchterman

Carol Ormand

 

Dan Vilter

 

David Buesch

Dick McGaugh

 

Jim Saxe

Laura Tighe

Mary DeFelice-Bartley

Paul Ievens

Sharyn Peterson

Stewart Hall

Ying-Ying Li

 

 

 

A Costa Rica photo workshop

Join me for a workshop next March in, of all places, Costa Rica.

This came about through my connections with Holbrook Travel, who organize educational tours around the world. They own one of the oldest eco-tourist lodges in Costa Rica, in the north-central lowland rainforest.

This is a week-long exploration to photograph the landscape and people of the area. My instruction will be a mix of technical and attitudinal approaches to photography. I'll cover equipment and technique, which is not unimportant, but it's not the most essential ingredient to finding your voice as a photographer. Much of what we will do together is learn how to attune ourselves to your surroundings so we know how to see the photograph.

A tropical rainforest is one of the more disorienting environments on the planet to do this work. Even though I've photographed in Costa Rica before, I'll be learning too. I expect we will come together as a supportive community of learners as we explore and discover this territory for ourselves. We will come away with a new sense of how to capture place in a meaningful, personal way.

My structure for a workshop is a lot of looking at each other's work as we progress through the week. I'll offer technical information as needed and requested, but mostly we'll be immersed in photography. There are going to be various “field trips” in the region, to different rainforest habitats, to a cacao plantation, and guided wildlife walks. I'll be down there a few days before to scout these situations and rejigger them to meet our needs (we tend to want to linger in places much longer than civilians).

I'll be writing over the next few months about my process of preparation for this workshop. Stay tuned.

Details:

March 25-31, 2010
 Location: Selva Verde Lodge, Costa Rica
 Land cost: $998
 Maximum participants: 14
 More information: http://bit.ly/ZJ1y2 

The Photograph Within--postponed

I'm rescheduling our workshop, The Photograph Within, for early June.

The new version will have more review time, and new performance enhancement techniques from Robin. If you're new to this, The Photograph Within is a workshop on connection and attunement, namely, how to recognize your body's signals and quickly get into the zone of creative flow.

Details as we figure them out.

The Photograph Within, round 2

We're doing it again next month. Here are the particulars of our workshop, The Photograph Within.

Date: Sunday April 13, 2008, 10am to 5pm.
Location: Our house, NE Seattle, details upon registration.
Cost: $75.
Leaders: Doug Plummer and Robin Shapiro
Size: 10 participants.
To register: email me.

Description: Doug Plummer, photographer, and Robin Shapiro, LICSW, psychotherapist, assist photographers to find their optimum creative zone for personal or commercial shooting. Doug brings his experience and the art theory components. Robin brings Focusing, EMDR, and Performance Enhancement techniques. Together, they help photographers find and refine the neural pathways to their internal and external photographs.

We will teach you to be alert to those physical sensations that let you know you are in the “zone”, and to respond to the world from a deep and fast place. We will talk about process and neurobiology, and use exercises to deepen your awareness of your own particular cues. We want you to get deeply familiar with that arrangement of reality in the viewfinder that “you cannot ignore”.

Bring a camera (and a laptop if you shoot digital). The workshop has been revised and improved since the first round in January. Alumni of the first one get in for half price.

Workshop debrief

I had so much worry going into this workshop. The previous night was full of dreams that were only about anxiety: we were meeting in a huge hayfield, and nobody could hear me. Then we were meeting in a rental studio, but the music was loud in the next room and someone was welding, and the owner of the studio wouldn't acknowledge that I had rented the place and had a right to it.

I think I still need to own the role of teacher and mentor.

Nonetheless, the reviews have been stellar. It seems to have been a useful day for everyone. Yet we both see a lot we want to change.

The idea behind our workshop is this: to do deep work as a photographer requires an ability and a means to connect with one's self and one's surroundings. There are performance enhancement tools that can make it possible to do so with intention.

My experience as a workshop participant has been that the strongest ones are those in which the group coheres by deep mutual sharing of their process and their work. Sam Abell is my mentor and model for the best kind of leader. He has a ninjalike way of not appearing to do very much, yet I am still in touch with some of my workshop mates from a decade ago, and I am still working out some of the insights from those sessions.

A one day workshop is not going to present those kind of opportunities. But I want to start modestly, and understand the dynamic of presenting a way of photographic working style that can be quickly assimilated. Here is how the next workshop will be different.

--More shooting. Less time to do it in. We had a long lunch/shooting break, but it broke the focus of the group. The 15 minute session in the morning seemed more successful.

--More me, less Robin. Yes, I think my wife is wonderful and the smartest person I know, but she admits that she's more used to teaching discrete skills to therapists, not artistic process to artists.  What she brings to the table is unique. Yet I need to find my voice, and use it.

--Trusting the group to make the workshop a workshop, and stay out of the way when necessary. We had some really great talent in our group. Anyone deep enough into their own process to be interested in our workshop is already going to know how to get into their groove. We don't need to replace what anyone has that already works, just extend it a little bit and make it easier to access.

The next run of The Photograph Within will be in about six weeks. Alumni get in half price.

Read Robin's take on the day at her blog. And a participant already has us up on his blog.

Help us create a workshop

Robin has another book contract with W.W. Norton. She writes books for therapists, outlining clinical protocols to use for various populations. It means I'll be in charge of dinner, dishes, and computer administration for the next year.

This book is going to cover depression, eating disorders and performance. Really, there's no common thread or sequence there. Under the performance enhancement section she has a chapter titled, “EMDR And The Artistic Zone: A Workshop For Photographers.”

The idea is this: working in the “Zone”, in performance parlance, means being fully immersed in the moment and in the creative process. In photography it means that interval of total connection with your surroundings, and being fully engaged in the act of seeing and capturing. Our premise is that Zone can be intentionally summoned.  We have the power to go there when we want. 

Now, Robin and I have been talking about doing a workshop together for some time. I know the creative and technical side. Robin knows all the brain stuff that's going on, and has the techniques. I'm the right brain—she's the left. We've even written it out. We just haven't actually done a workshop with this material yet.

We need your help writing the chapter. We need to workshop the workshop, run it a few times, then write it up for the book. So, all you Seattle area readers—wanna try out our workshop? Our only prerequisite is a working fluency with your camera.

Write me and tell me if you're interested. I'd like to put something together for late January, probably the 27th.

Opening my eyes

In preparing for next weekend’s workshop (The Photograph Within, at Newspace Photo Center in Portland), I’ve been thinking about process a lot. I’ve been reading about it, I’ve been writing about it, I’ve been obsessing about it. I’ve been cramming for the exam. It’s affecting how I photograph.

We’re on Gabriola Island, off Vancouver Island, visiting a friend. We’re at a rocky beach that has amazing eroded forms in the sandstone. I’m a sucker for these places, even though this is a well trod convention in West Coast landscape photography, and the vein is pretty well played out at this point. One does not easily make an original statement from these environs. Nonetheless, I still get excited at these spots and whack away at them with glee.

But this time, I’m self conscious of my process. Here’s a Weston beach shot, here’s a Wynn Bullock, here’s a little Minor White thing going on. I just need a 4x5 camera and a bunch of film holders (black and white, of course) to complete the image. “Actually, I just need a lithe, nude female body to completely conform to stereotype,” I say to my companions.

“No!” says Robin. April adds, “I wouldn’t want to keep you stuck in a stereotype.”

“OK Doug, let’s do it,” says Robin. Nudity, I think hopefully? “Let’s start the workshop.” Oh, that. “Close your eyes,” she says. “What do you feel?” I’m sensing things. The hot sun on my forehead. The cool ocean breeze. The smell of the salty air. The hum of the distant ferry. “Think of a time when you were in the zone. When everything was flowing. Maybe it’s a beach in California.” I go in my mind to a fog shrouded beach on the Olympic Peninsula, which had the best brushy edge to it. I worked it for an hour. “Are you there? Good. Open your eyes.”

Blue. Everything was blue, the sky, the ocean, the water. The rocks were brown, everything and every sense was heightened in intensity. “Are you here?” Yes, I’m here.

Two full cards later, I join April and Robin in the shade. I feel spent, but I’m still gazing at everything around me, at the back lit blades of grass on the hill, at the rocks beneath my feet, at the tugboat and barge offshore. “Your eyes are on,” Robin says to me.