It’s quiet in my living room right now. An afternoon thunderstorm is brewing, as they do this time of year, and the sky had darkened. The cottonwoods in the yard are swaying in the warm wind, scattered raindrops dot the windows, and the only discernible sound is my dog’s quiet breath as she sleeps at the foot of the couch. This is the first time in days that I can hear no man-made sound.
Beyond other things I love about living in a small rural town, it was this silence that struck me first after a long trip back through crowded airports and hours on cramped airplanes.
The air is rich with the scent of wet earth now, and through the window the red cliffs are beckoning just a short distance away. I may go for a quick drive later. I doubt I’ll see another human out there.
Such are the gifts of this life, and their undeniable effect on the soul. Frustrations, bitterness, cynicism, and anger seem to melt away in such moments and placed in proper perspective. Of the infinite stream of events that make a lifetime, these are the instances that quietly sear themselves in the mind as the most meaningful; the ones we later wish we could go back to.
It seems sometimes as though one’s persona is transformed in relation to number of people within close proximity. While there is little doubt our technology and dominance as a species are owed to our ability to function and collaborate in social units, such interactions tend to bring about those traits most beneficial to survival rather than the ones that set apart and reward the individual. The more crowded the place, the angrier, more cynical, and more violent its culture seems to become. And, after a while, the preoccupation with such matters crowds out the spiritual, the poetic, and the artistic that are in each of us, sometimes forgotten. It takes moments of quiet, solitude, and beauty to be reminded of those things that make life worth living. As social as we are, our most profound emotions are experienced in scarce company.
It is dangerously easy to give up most anything in exchange for comfort, security, and an effortless existence. It is easy to suppress our amazing ability for thought, emotion, knowledge, intuition, and creativity for the ease of pre-packaged ready-to-consume ideas, entertainment, and lifestyle templates. It is easy to have others experience adventure, discovery, and achievement on our behalf and to live vicariously through them, believing that we ourselves are not cut out for the task, or to assume that at some undetermined point in the future we’ll get around to doing something meaningful, after we’ve taken care of some trivial matters. These are also the most dangerous of traps to fall into.
If you’ve ever wondered what it feels like to stand on top of a mountain, go find a mountain now. If you ever wished to know more about this or that or the other, kick your TV and go learn about it now. If you ever wanted to see an epic sunrise, go set your alarm now. And, if you want a life other than the one you’re living today, make a plan now.
Right now I crave the smell of wet sagebrush and the thrill of spotting lightning on the horizon. Turning the computer off… now.
It’s good to be home.
Tags: guy tal, outdoors, photography, solitude, wilderness
I am pleased to announce the addition of twenty four new images to my online collection. A selection of these images will be available as prints at the gallery starting this weekend.
Tags: fine art, gallery, guy tal, landscape, nature, photography, utah
“If there is magic in this world, it is contained in water.” –Loren Eiseley
Things continue to be busy but I did manage a couple of quick outings recently. Stay tuned for more writings and images on these pages in the next couple of weeks.
Early Summer MagicTags: fine art, guy tal, landscape, nature, photography, utah, water
My earlier post, The Art of Copying, generated some eloquent and thought-provoking comments both on the site and via email. Though I could not respond individually to each post, I did want to offer my sincere and heartfelt thanks to those who took the time to consider and comment, whether they agreed with my position or not. As much as the comments themselves, I also appreciated learning that other photographers are as passionate in articulating their deeper thoughts and philosophies on the essence of what we do and why we do it.
I did want to offer a small clarification regarding the context for the post. I was explicitly referring to situations in which a photographer will knowingly and deliberately set out to copy another’s work and claim it as their own, for praise or profit.
As I responded to one person via email, not one of us can claim they are not standing on the shoulders of giants. We all learn and improve by adopting ideas, concepts, and techniques we find interesting in the work of others. Still, there is a moral distinction between such adaptive learning, and outright deliberate copying with the intent of laying claim to the resulting accolades.
While exchanging comments, references to music and to attribution were brought up. Those who have not read the complete thread may be interested in two other related posts: Things Photographers Can Learn from Musicians, and The First Step Towards Personal Style.
I would also like to acknowledge that my own thinking on the subject had evolved over time, and I can see the confusion my new position may have caused (as highlighted by Floris’ comment).
Lastly, I would like to draw your attention to a recent article by Charlie Borland, a man whose work I deeply respect and who offers a professional’s perspective on the topic. Charlie’s site, Pro Nature Photographer, is a wonderful resource to anyone who shares a passion for nature and photography and aims to pursue them professionally.
Tags: borland, charlie, copying, guy tal, landscape, nature, photographer, photography, pro
My article “The ABCs of Composition” is featured in the June, 2010 edition of PopPhoto Magazine.
ABCs of Composition
Tags: article, composition, guy tal, landscape, nature, photography, popphoto, popular photography
I recently read with great interest a Facebook discussion among landscape photographers. The premise was that if a photograph can be closely duplicated by another photographer, then it is not truly an original nor deserving of being considered art.
Though I did not contribute to the exchange, I do feel this is a larger topic than whether a specific image is a work of art. In fact, I think it reflects on a significant flaw in the general appreciation of photography, as opposed to other fine arts.
Let me start by saying that my opinion, and the facts, do not support the argument made. Reproduction, and indeed outright forgeries, of art are nothing new and have a history as long as art itself. Still, in other disciplines, a reproduction or forgery are readily dismissed as such and, no matter how expertly produced, would not come close to being valued as the original.
In fine art photography, for some reason, the connection between the artist and the art is readily severed, sometimes even by the artist him/herself!
Those of us in “the trade” can readily rattle off lists of great photographers. The average viewer of art, though, will likely not recognize most of them. Show a random American the image of “Migrant Mother” and they will likely recognize it. Ask them who made it, and you’ll be lucky to find one in a hundred who recalls Dorothea Lange.
It is easy to blame general apathy towards art, lacking education, or any number of reasons outside the photographer’s control, and surely these are all contributing factors, but I contend it is us – photographers – who are the chief contributors to such ignorance.
Most photographers, when presenting their prints, will meekly sign their names on the mat, rather than the work itself, and in pencil! Are they ashamed to put their mark on their own creation like any other artist? Why?
Many photographers also consider it a minor offense, or no offense at all, to knowingly and deliberately make copies of others’ images and pass them as their own, thus blurring or completely erasing the due creative credit to the original artist.
Lastly, the belief stated in the thread referenced above, that if I am capable of making a copy, it means the original was not truly worthy, is misguided at best. It is the kind of perverse thinking that makes some photographers destroy their subject after making an image, or hold secret the location of certain places. They do so because they know other photographers will be the first to disrespect their vision.
Can you think of Gauguin stumbling on the same sunflower field painted by Van Gogh and thinking to himself “hey, I can make the same painting”? Or, how about Hemingway duplicating passages form Melville when writing about the sea?
It’s time we stopped doing it to ourselves! How can we expect the public to treat a photographic artist with the same reverence as great painters or poets or novelists when we so readily dismiss the genius of our own colleagues and devalue the vision of our own kin?
Spring in the Badlands
Tags: art, creativity, forgery, nature, originality, photography, recognition
These were once referred to as “the baddest of the badlands” but every few years, when conditions are just right, they fill with dormant color for just a few days.
A Moment of KindnessTags: badlands, bloom, flower, landscape, nature, photography, spring, utah, wildflower
And his name is: CMYK.
Some of you who follow my posts on Twitter and other forums know I’ve been very skeptical of the iPad. There is, however, one area where I can see tremendous potential for the device: electronic publishing of color photography.
Anyone who ever tried to target color photography to a CMYK process will surely agree it can be an incredibly frustrating endeavor. The color spaces are so narrow and lack critical hues for natural scenes.
If I could ask Apple for an early Christmas present (assuming it’s not already the case): please add colorspace support and some degree of calibration to the iPad OS. With these in place, it will be an even better photo content platform than most desktops and laptops.
I have Seen the EnemyTags: calibration, cmyk, color, colorspace, ipad, management, photography, publishing
In the Depths of the Cave
This place haunted me from the day I first visited, and maybe even prior to that. I’m not a superstitious man, yet I must confess there’s something here that touches me deeply; something in the shards of pottery, the withered husks and cobs of maize strewn about, the fingerprints in the ancient clay, and the sculpted chert tools, that sends an undeniable and tangible current down my body when I touch them.
The early lime-green buds on the cottonwoods seemed almost fluorescent against the red rock when touched by the first light. By then I was already a ways down the canyon, on my own, on a perfect, fragrant, spring morning. The small stream running clear and cold and joyous by the faded trail, awakening new grasses and small purple flowers. A pair of mourning cloak butterflies entwined in an airborne mating dance. The occasional unseen critter scurrying in the brush. Life awakens after a harsh winter in this most beautiful of all deserts.
Kitchen Counter
I arrived at the cave just as the sun lit the opposite canyon wall, reflecting warm light onto the old masonry adorning the entrance to a large alcove. I sat down to absorb the warm rays and listen to the quiet awakening of the world around me before descending into the dark womb hidden in the far recesses of the alcove. Here I dropped my pack and sat in the large silent underground hall that used to be someone’s home hundreds of years ago. All around me, evidence of old fires, metates, and middens of coals, bits of bone, and corn mixed with the soft powdery sand.
I waited for it – the calm quiescence after the effort of the hike had subsided. I was here for a reason – for the chance to think, to look inside myself unencumbered by distraction of any sort. As I have done many times before when in search of answers, I was here to tear myself down and pull the pieces back together again; to make sure I was still honest with myself, and still able to affirm who I am and to justify my life’s path. It is a cleansing experience, a solitary ritual of letting go… of everything. It is a leap of faith that after all is laid out in tiny pieces, raw and exposed, when all the questions and fears and yearnings are allowed to emerge from the depths of memory and denial, a meaningful whole will arise once again.
These moments are always most powerful when in remote, wild, and beautiful surroundings, and this was no different. This was my own world for a short while, just as it was for those who lived here centuries ago, and those who occupied these lands for eons, human and other. This was my place to break down without having to explain.
To truly live, one must always strive to think more clearly, to feel more deliberately, and to create more passionately. Make no excuses.
Tags: cedar mesa, indian, native american, photography, puebloan, ruin, utah