Thursday, February 17, 2011

In Search of Alchemy

I know I've been talking about the BIG project that Tsirkus is launching in April for quite some time. Since I've seen over and again, the results of poor planning and lack of doing one's homework, I really wanted to get at least ten strong test images made before the launch. Well I've hit that.

It has been a real struggle to not throw the photos up online as they got made. I didn't do it because the 72dpi screen really kills the experience of seeing them. I've been test printing the images as I've worked along and the final output is a real print you can hold in your hand, not a screen shot. Still, at some point, one has to give it up to technology and to the patient people who have so lovingly supported the emergence of the project, often from afar, and post the semi-real deal. So, Voila!

Tech details? They weary me. My sage advice is don't try this at home, but if you must know, they were done via multiple pinhole exposures on high-speed instant film. I combined and manipulated the positives and negatives in Photoshop. I don't even want to know how many hundreds of hours have gone into making the full ten. Lots of getting up early and working, and reworking, experimenting, and test printing. Are they ever done? Probably not. I know I will hang them in a gallery and immediately see something I could have done better.

I'd much rather talk about the volumes of notes and thoughts that working on these have generated. It's been like a kind of plummeting into the roots of what feels like everything. If I could say anything in sum, it's been the feeling like somehow all this was waiting for me. OK, not a bad pay-off for over 25 years of banging one's head against the proverbial and living on macaroni and cheese.

I want to thank the very patient and extraordinary models who worked with me and for taking the leap of faith. Let me also say, the other nine images are not work-safe. The photographic rendering celebrates the forms of the human body, so I won't be posting them on Facebook. The plan is create a small catalog and most likely a .pdf file that project supporters can buy and download for a very nominal feel. This will be part of a Kickstarter project that will also be launched in April where people can buy-in to the project by purchasing items from a the aforementioned file to postcards to a large, archival print.

So now, on to the nuts and bolts of things, like making slides, getting press releases out, going on Lulu and making the catalog and the hundred other things needed to get things in gear. More details to follow about how this technique will dovetail with public shoots.

Photo Title: Hide and Seek
Photographer: RA Friedman, c. 2011

Monday, January 17, 2011

Clothing Optional





OK, I will come clean; the germ of this blog was a Craigslist missive from a novice photographer asking for professional advice on how to get started photographing women nude. I usually resist the temptation to answer such things, primarily because it’s usually just wasted words. Most of the time, I don’t even get a “thank you” for responding. Too, the vast number of people who post queries like this are somehow engaged in a kind of magical thinking; that is, they think that if they just throw their issue out in the world and wish hard enough, someone will provide the easy, pat answer, and all will be well. They don’t want to hear the real truths, which involve uncertainty, a bit of luck and most of all, hard work.

But I had a moment of indiscretion, and every so often I feel expansive with the desire to pass on what little wisdom I may have accumulated related to things that most people don’t care about. Additionally, I’m curious about whether my ideas are received and the dialogue that ensues. I love to teach, I just loathe formal educational environments. The possibility of winning over a young heart and mind to the path of creative anarchy is like putting a sardine in front of a starved alley cat-- I pounced. I sent this person the “five minute version” (no answer as of this post date) and have expanded my ideas below.

First, if you are not the type who takes a self-inventory every now and then and you’re determined to add galleries of flesh to your portfolio, my best advice is: Stop reading now! What I’ve written below will not change your mind and will simply annoy you.

As subject matter, the nude is creatively dangerous. For one, we still live in a country where the human body is seen as something from which people must shield their eyes and thoughts. You are likely to be plagued by questions concerning your own reasons for photographing raw human anatomy and will need to unravel what on earth you are doing, given the glut of nudes, especially of women as photographed by men. Nude photography requires dealing with one’s own complex motivations plus those of a living self-determining and ever-shifting subject who has invested a lot of trust in both you and your creative abilities. By peeling away the physical barrier of clothing, a social and cultural boundary is removed, putting both the subject and the photographer in a new psychological space that can be disquieting. Even after years of drawing and painting from the figure as well as making many photographic images, I still find working with a live model challenging and even a bit nerve wracking. There are occasional moments in the studio where I avert my eyes, feeling my gaze is too intimate and that I’ve transgressed an unspoken boundary. Add to all this the thorny process of attempting to make really excellent photographs, and you can see why things can get difficult and messy.

The art historian Kenneth Clarke wrote: “No nude, however abstract, should fail to arouse in the spectator some vestige of erotic feeling, even if it be only the faintest shadow - and if it does not do so it is bad art and false morals.” If you believe this, there is no playing it “safe.” I find so called “figure studies” that just show the beauty of the human body, to be pretty uninteresting since they take a human being, something alive, chaotic and unpredictable and turn it into still life.

There are more practical problems as well. For every potential subject you invite to be photographed, be he or she professional model or amateur, you are automatically suspect until proven otherwise. At worst you are a potential rapist who buries people in the basement, but more likely you will be potentially looked at as being something much more prosaic. With the advent of digital photography, there has been an explosion of “GWC’s” or “Guys With Cameras”—men whose interest in photography doesn’t go much further than whether their pricey new equipment will get a woman to take her clothes off. These poseurs waste the model’s time snapping photos that are mediocre and are often last seen during the shoot on the camera’s lcd screen.

The best solution to the above is to be professional, even formal in how you present yourself, what your project is and what you want to do. These days most modeling gigs are worked out online. What you write in your posts and emails are often all someone responding to your subject search has to go on. Be forthright about the state of your experience, circumstances and budget. Have a project or better yet, specific shots in mind that you want to execute. Explain your purpose and intended use of the images. If the model wants to bring a friend or significant other to the shoot, let them. If a model wants to meet you ahead of time to make sure you are OK, go have a cup of coffee and bring some prints. Having a face-to-face meeting before the shoot helps the work go better in my experience. You have a sense of the person ahead of time.

Minimally, have a page on Model Mayhem or One Model Place where people you’ve worked with can “tag” you and write about their positive experiences working with you. Pay your models, if at all possible, even if it’s just a modest show-up fee. Secure a good space to work in, even if you have to rent an hourly studio. Prepare.

More important than covering the professional bases, as I alluded to previously, consider the model’s perspective. In fact, I’d go as far as to suggest you take a stab at modeling nude to get a feel for the kind of vulnerability it engenders and how difficult it really is. I had the full and somewhat mortifying experience in college. Being very broke, I was a figure model for a weekend drawing group attended by a rather sleazy-looking man who invited me to do a “private session” at his house. Yes, guys get harassed too!

My experience is people model, regardless of whether they are clothed or not, because they are interested in being in collaborations with creative people. They enjoy the process of evolving tableaux for the camera and the surprises that happen when an image reflects them in a totally new and interesting way. As a photographer, you are in a sense, helping them explore who they are. It’s really a give and take and the more the photographer invests in making a great image, the more something primary from the subject comes through in the photos. If I can be a bit lofty for a moment, this is really what the photographer is “returning” to the model and the world. On a more grounded note, make sure you deliver the files and prints you promise. If you do this, my guess is you will have no shortage of people who will want to create the kind of images you envision.

So how to start? Contrary to what all the photography and art schools would like you to believe, nobody really “studies” photography; you just jump in. The first nudes I did, I put an ad on Craigslist looking for volunteers and I found a few as well! The shots were not stellar, but I learned a lot and I got over a lot of the anxiety I had about working with nude subjects one-on-one. From there I made more and just continued on doing them and a lot of other studio work. The operative word being “work.”

Thursday, December 30, 2010

The Zoe Strauss Problem

I've never been a big fan of Zoe Strauss. I've always found it more engaging to criticize Strauss' work than to look to it for what is magical. I have a colleague that is obsessively jealous of Zoe's success. Nary has a conversation gone by about the state of creating work and the market for photography that her name hasn’t come up. Certainly her career has been kind of like the character of Pecker in the eponymous movie by John Waters, where a kid from an eccentric family with no formal training (Does Strauss have a college degree even?) in a gritty working class enclave picks up a cheap 35mm Canonet rangefinder camera (sometimes called a “poor man’s Leica” and one of my favorite cameras) and within months has a show at Cheim and Reid. Art diverges from life in that Strauss' rise to stardom was much slower, taking years (and assuredly much hard work) and built by cultivating a huge following via her public art project--exhibiting her yearly work under the I-95 underpass for a full decade.

Those unfamiliar with her work can find it here: http://zoestrauss.blogspot.com/

My obsessed colleague is a fine black and white printer and his work is crisp, precisely composed; the images pop and jump; they are labors of loving perfection in the service of visual beauty, much like abstract paintings that one enjoys simply for what they do for your retinas and soul. Viewing the pieces is akin to walking into a grand cathedral even if you are not religious; you are uplifted by the grandeur. What is primarily captured is the photographer’s affection and dedication to working in the medium: photography about photography. The subject matter and the artist largely disappear. Such work inhabits the realm of the connoisseur. It's a very hard sell, especially in Philadelphia, perhaps anywhere, and requires a kind of appreciation that has to be sought out in the way one searches for four-leafed clovers. Strauss, on the other hand could have her work printed at the Walgreens down the block and people would still be clambering for it. She is not what you would call a "photographer's photographer." It's not the honing of the photographic qualities of her work that "make" the shots. She uses a DSLR set on "full-auto"-basically point-and-shoot. I don't believe she does anything but relatively basic editing and corrections in Photoshop and is not an obsessive perfectionist when it comes to the printmaking; the photos verge on snapshots.

David Shields coined the phrase "reality hunger" to describe the state of modern society. That is, we experience very little reality in our daily lives; therefore artists are consistently trying to sneak more and more reality or the impression of it into their oeuvre. In photography, the world hankers for images that take the viewer into places wherein only a solitary soul has been able to gain access, be this physical, temporal, spiritual or emotional. If the work fails, it's because it fits the ever-heard exclamation: "Been there, done that!" The ingenuity, the artfulness of Strauss's work is that she knows how to squeeze her self and her lens into that impossibly tight cranny or, more likely, give the impression that she has. By doing this she cuts to the chase concerning the core underpinnings of much contemporary photography. Journalists love to talk about her South Philly neighborhood, the characters, etc, but the truth is, everyone lives some place weird. The world is utterly surreal. It's Strauss's ability to throw her self into that bizarre world and still come up for air that makes it all tick. The mystery, and the thing to be envied as someone who too wants to succeed and navigate the snark-infested waters of the art world, is not her popular appeal but her uncanny ability, to do a kind of voodoo-like magic: the combination of internal and outward transformations necessary to make her striking images, and to do it smack in the middle of rough streets.

I've been thinking about this, of course, because of my own work much of which is more synthetic and connected to the process of photographic printmaking. As I sit at my part-time job, I have visions of hitting the streets, maybe with a Leica a la Cartier-Bresson or Gary Winogrand. I feel pulled to the work of the great street photographers and can't help but think "Yeh, this is what IT is about." Yet as I move away from daydreams and take stock of who I am, I've come to realize that a great deal of the work I’ve done up to now succeeds (I hope) because I've been able to gain access to a unique interior space within myself. As my work has progressed over the years, I'd like to believe I've become more frank and open about letting people view that landscape, as well as becoming more adept at making what is essentially invisible, visible, and therefore "real." I thrive on solitude and working with models in intimate, controlled settings, or trekking the urban landscape with a camera. So, a dilemma has arisen for me, certainly a good one and to be considered as well as acted upon. "I should grab my camera, get an unlimited pass on Greyhound, land where I may and just jump around the country taking photos," my aforementioned colleague said to me a few summers ago. I thought it was a great idea and being one that knows the future is always uncertain, encouraged him to do it NOW, to just go and ramble; take the chance. His instincts had figured out something primary long before his conscious mind had.

Photo: RA Friedman, "Broad and Tasker"

Thursday, December 16, 2010

In the footsteps of the magic lantern show:

15 December 2010

Figurative artist RA Friedman is once again bringing his unique craft directly to his audience with a series of old school 35mm slide shows planned for 2011 to be presented in Philadelphia and New York City. Friedman, who is often seen behind a lumbering, antique reflex camera, has been shooting vintage-style portraits at various events since 2005. The project became Tsirkus Fotografika in 2008 and currently shuttles between Philadelphia and New York city shooting at everything from animal shelter fundraisers to jazz-age events, to all-night warehouse parties.

The half-hour presentation, containing some of Tsirkus’s most memorable and intriguing images from an archive of nearly five-hundred portraits, will trace the evolution of the project and its vision from humble and accidental beginnings to its current position: that of maintaining a very busy shooting schedule, an archive website, plus planning a launch of a new public arts project in 2011 RA will also discuss his highly unorthodox photo methodology informed by his fine arts background, which involves creating mysterious, and often haunting images from the usually thrown-away instant film negatives.

RA Friedman's work was recently featured in New York Magazine. He is currently working on an artist's fellowship with The City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Project. He lives and works in his studio in the South Square neighborhood of Philadelphia.

Photo by Frank Siciliano of Steamed Punk Labs

Monday, December 13, 2010

2011 Plans

Tsirkus is now going into it's third year. The project first flew the banner as a sponsored non-profit project in October 2008 at The Brooklyn Indie Market. 2011 promises to be an exciting year with some big plans in the works.

I've been experimenting with pinhole imaging and painting with light to create complex multi-figure works in fairly large interior spaces.I haven't posted these in any official place as yet, mostly because I want to hold off until the project is really underway and possibly offer a "secret link."

I'm gratified that people have actually found this blog up to now without any prompting. My plan is to do a fundraiser on Kickstarter, an online resource for raising money for creative projects. Currently I have 162 "fans" on the Tsirkus Facebook page. When we reach the tentative goal of 500, I'll launch the fundraiser.

The Internet is not magic. Money does not just fall into one's lap, which is why I'm doing the homework--networking, talking to people, bringing them the test prints to look at (if you're in Philly or get to NYC, I'm happy to do so), but most of all working hard in the studio to make images that are unique and worth the viewer's time.

With that being said, tell your friends!

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer







Thursday, November 25, 2010

Richard Avedon


I believe in maniacs. I believe in type As. I believe that you’ve got to love your work so much that it is all you want to do. I believe you must betray your mistress for your work, you betray your wife for your work; I believe that she must betray you for her work. I believe that work is the one thing in the world that never betrays you, that lasts. If I were going to be a politician, if I were going to be a scientist, I would do it every day. I wouldn’t wait for Monday. I don’t believe in weekends. If you’re headed for a life that’s only involved with making money and that you hope for satisfaction somewhere else, you’re headed for a lot of trouble. And whatever replaces vodka when you’re 45 is what you’re going to be doing. - Richard Avedon - 1988

Friday, October 29, 2010

"Aha" Moments


(Painting: RA Friedman, 1994 "Little Girl Lost," acrylic on canvas paper, approx 14" x 11", whereabouts unknown.)

Recently, Brainard Carey, an artist who also does career development asked the question about peoples' "Aha" moments for a book on which he is working. I was thinking about this question and also a statement that I've seen at least from a few well-known artists: "When I first saw a work by "X," it was like coming home"--an immediate sense of visual recognition that seems to run through the history of modern painting.

I never had that. Instead, I perceived, or more likely, felt there was something about the lives of creative people that I yearned to have for myself. I believed they were on to and tuned into something. I wanted to belong to "the club." In large measure my conception was highly romanticized and in many ways untrue. I saw only the gemutlichkeit and not the struggles and pains. The greatest internal pull was exercised by my undergraduate drawing teacher, Charles Eldred, which almost anyone who studied with him will attest to. When I entered both his physical and psychological space, I knew "This is what I want to do."

The odd part is (and perhaps this is my "aha" moment for today) is I was not particularly skilled and though I looked at a lot of visual art, did not "get it" either visually or conceptually. Drawing was a kind of therapy for me. My ideas did not translate well into pencil and paint but rather came forth in small, fortuitous moments which were enough to muddle me through via sheer hard work. I never really figured out how to evolve a powerful overall statement that was hand-made. Ironically, within the last year or so, now that I'm working in another media (photography), I can approach a piece of paper as an overall visual field, rather than starting with atomized pieces or ideas that I then struggle (and fail to) unite. I might even make some paintings this year.