Marina González Eme – I’m Lost (2014)

Eme’s work includes ostensible nods to Egon Schiele.

More than that what stands out to me is the essential Spanish-ness of the work–specifically influence by Picasso and Miró.

Eme sidesteps much of the earlier work–instead engaging with the figurative styling of Picasso’s mid-career work (think Guernica and Massacre in Korea) filtered retroactively through the earlier more strictly cubist output. (Bottle of Anis del Mono filtered through a super concentrated examination of Fernand Léger might as as well be the template for Eme’s Black III.)

However, what’s even more striking is when you consider the interplay between the use of space and line (also: the interplay between the two) as it pertains to compositional form in the context of the influence of Miró.

Source: behance.net

Donatas Zazirskas – i (2016)

I featured another of Zazirskas’ images in a post from almost exactly a year ago. (Incidentally: it’s probably the most popular OP in the history of this project.)

I’m still not over 100% on board with his work but I ran across this earlier in the week and I had a very strong reaction to it.

I’ll try to explain but in order to do that I do have to dissimulate–at least initially.

Nothing about this pose makes sense. You’re standing outside wearing a light dress. You bear your left breast while leaving the right covered touch your index and middle fingers to your collar bone while throwing your head back with the back of your palm seeming pressed against your forehead. Why?

The only thing that makes sense is that she’s trying to remain anonymous. As as much as I personally loathe images that decapitate the subject in order to preserve privacy–there is a fundamental contradiction between her pose and the mise en scene, i.e. she’s presented as being unaware of being observed but is also trying not to be seen while self-consciously revealing her breast; all with the background so carefully presented as to vertically bifurcate the frame.

That was my first reaction anyway. Running into it a year later, I’m almost willing to wager that this image is an extrapolation upon Fan Ho’s magnificent Approaching Shadow.

As far as an homage, it’s uneven. But if Zazirskas is actually spending time with Ho’s work then that would explain both my ambivalence about aspects of his work and the fact that I’m not exactly ready to dismiss it either.

Ho is a hell of a lot more formal and technically astute–however, I can’t suggest that it’s the wrong photographer given Zazirskas’ over style. The choice actually strikes me as thoroughly prescient.

Source: flickr.com

Jack Welpott – Sherry (1980)

I featured a couple of interesting photos from Welpott a little more than a year ago.

The way his focal plane tilts ever so slightly forward–not sure if this is to emphasize the floor or was an effort to subconscious facilitate a behavior in the viewer or to convey a sense of psychological superiority to what he was depicting but I can’t say I’m fond of this unconscious tick.

Still: there’s no arguing that he was a master at presenting space as if it pre-ordered by some cosmic pattern instead of carefully constructed by the artist.

There’s something about scale with this image. Sherry looks improbably large in that bench. At first glance it seems like she might be floating because the bench is so deeply set into the shadows.

Also, this sort of lighting situation is realy difficult to handle. Stop down too much and you lose any of the interior details, open up and you get wicked over exposure. (Metering your highlight and then your shadow and splitting the difference usually works OK for exterior stuff. And admittedly B&W gives you even greater over to under range. This was carefully finessed. I’m not sure whether there was some sort of additional light source–whether some sort of flash unit filtering in just a touch of spill, or if there’s some sort of reflector out side the house bouncing light in, if things were shot with heavy bracketing–it’s  a real pain in the arse to do but you’ll never regret having done it when you’re editing; or, if it’s split graded when it was printed. (Although I was pretty great at split grading and this looks a little too seamless.)

It also reminds me of something I was asked for when I tried to apply to a filmmaking program after finishing my undergrad stint. They wanted my reel to contain at least one instance where I had an interior shot with a window and you could see through the window in such a way that you could make out both what was outside and what was inside. (It’s actually a fun little challenge, if you’re ever bored.)

Source: gacougnol

Source unknown – Title unknown (2017)

For all the ways this image is a failure…

Hold that thought. Before we continue, let’s take a bit to actually call out all the things this does shoddily:

It’s underexposed. Now I’ll grant you that there’s a clear emphasis placed on the skin tone of the clearly tanned and athletic subject. (My guess is that this was probably taken on an sunny day on a section of trail fairly well shadowed by the forest canopy–check the patches of sunlight spill in the upper right corner.)

By turns that underexposure compresses dynamics within the shadows–her sports bra/bralette (I have one that’s very similar and it’s tres comfy) appears more or less a full black mass that seems like an absence in the frame.

The lack of light narrows the depth of field. Her left sneaker is partially extended so far towards the camera that it’s out of focus. (You’ll note that the sharp focus drops somewhere between the underside of the top rail on the bench behind her right armpit and the top rail of the halfway between her right shoulder and right knee.

But, for all the ways this image fails, it does several things–if not well, then at least curious ways.

I find this super relate-able? Part of it is that there’s an implicit narrative element. The subject stepped out of her shorts–she was wearing sans undies, discarded them on the seat.

However, even that goes back a bit further because you can trace that back to the decision made while getting dressed to eschew panties. The reasons could run from not having any clean knickers but still needing to go for a run, or the notion that you’re not really appropriately dressed for the activity you’re undertaking or because you’re planning to make sexy photos outdoors (or something even more naughty) and need to be able to get undressed and dressed again rapidly.

As far as improvised penetrative sex toys, a banana may be the most phallic in shape but it’s not especially well suited to the task. The base of the fruit has ridges that can scrape. (Carrots are preferable; cucumbers if you want more girth. Also, if you are going to use fruits and vegetables to stimulate your more challenging to reach inner parts–you always have to wash the fruit/vegetable thoroughly. Any place where you are inserting this is super absorbent and you don’t want a sensitive, absorbent part of your body leeching petrochemicals or pesticides. I personally maintain that you should wrap up whatever you’re using with a condom–but that’s me, overly safe Susie.)

Beyond the base, there’s also the fact that the meat of a banana gets increasingly mushy as it’s temperature increases–and the human body is almost 100 degrees F internally… you do the math.

Maybe the banana was just handy–they are great snacks to bring on a hike (they come pre-packaged and portion controlled!). But I do think that it is strangely fitting here (pun intended), because the other thing about this I adore is the way it messes with notions of public vs private. I mean this takes place in the woods–thus there’s a notion of semi-private. But the bench suggests that although you may presently be alone, this area is not necessarily only yours. Other people might happen along. That can be an interesting place to explore.  The feeling of doing something in an environment where you’re not supposed to do it but where you are unlike to get caught doing it is thrilling. It also causes your body to respond to things in unexpected ways.

It’s easy to say that this woman is modeling her expression to some sort of male gaze–the I’m being pervy and am knowing being witnessed being pervy so I need to look like I’m enjoying myself. I don’t know… as someone who has attempted to make self-portraits conceptually and specifically similar to the above, I would be struggling not to orgasm if this picture were of me–and truthfully, that’s the last bit: although this isn’t a good photo, I sort of which it was a photo of me; good or not it would be a really truthful presentation of who I am and what my concerns are in a way that would make me feel extremely sexy.

Alexei Aven – Do It Yourself (2012)

This has been cropped from the original. On one hand this action removes an especially ostentatious watermark–on the other hand, the only reason to motivate such an action would be to try to amputate any connection to the author (a super shitty motivation).

It also diminishes the impact of the composition. The longer frame contributes a greater downward push to the way the eye scans the work–increasing the sense of her loneliness as well as emphasize the attention to texture–the floor, the mirror, her dress, etc.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen mirrors used quite this way and whether or not the intent was to present the examination of reflection in terms that are conceptually linked to putting together a puzzle, that’s the net result.

The murk suggests low the ambient lighting conditions weren’t especially good (the subject is lit from above and behind–I’d wager some sort of clerestory window type set up over her right shoulder.)

I’d fault it–if it weren’t so refreshing to see after scrolling through his 500px for seemingly forever to find this image and in the process passing scads of work that embodies everything I detest about modern image making. (For example: you know how some chefs who aren’t vegetarians but who are required to serve food to vegetarians seem to think that ‘fresh’ and ‘healthy’ are tastes? Well, fuck those guys. And fuck folks who seem to have missed the memo that ‘commercial’ and ‘expensive’ are not traits of actual fine art photography.

Source: butti23

wonderlust photoworks – γνῶθι σεαυτόν in collaboration with @kyotocat (2018)

With the exception of a few days scatter here and there through the worst wilds of winter, it’s been viciously cold here in NYC. Today was a bit better–even if there is still a lingering chill in the air that is not at all normal for here.

In an effort to sum up the state of things one of the high end liquor stores on my walk home had a sign out front reading: this weather is more confusing than my teenage daughter.

It’s not that it’s a bad joke (it’s awful); it’s not that cliché (the union of forty-something straight white cis dads from the 1970s called and wants their joke back) and it’s not that it punches down instead of up–it’s victim blaming.

If young women are ‘confusing’ maybe it’s less due to the fact that they’re hormonal while trying to negotiate cryptic boundaries/navigate societal expectations with regard to gendered embodiment and perhaps due in large part to the complete contradictions our society imposes on them with regard to their appearance, behaivor and even physical being.

The expectation to be attractive without being so attractive that you invite unwanted attention. Because no matter what you do–there’ll be someone who isn’t happy about it.

I’ve talked with too many femme friends who all offer variations on the theme of men started looking at me different, treating me differently and behaving differently toward me long before I ever even started puberty. Everything from then on was less about me and my own autonomy and instead was about making a space to exist and feel if not safe then at least not always threatened.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about bodies–positivity towards them and acceptance of them. The idea started out as a result of something I read years ago about a young woman who curious about why she was dirty or disgusting because of her genitals decided to get a good look at them in a hand mirror. Instead of finding something unappealing, she was fascinated by the lips, ridges and folds. She realized through nothing more than the act of looking closely that everything she had been told was wrong and that her body was beautiful, miraculous even.

This is just as much for young women–who through the glut of false expectations foisted by porn–think their own labia aren’t normal/attractive. It’s also for those who experience dysphoria related to their genitalia–because it’s not always about learning to love/accept what you’ve got.

The title is in ancient Greek–which is insufferably pretentious–but it’s known widely enough that it doesn’t strike me as hermetic. It means know thyself and was allegedly the inscription over the enterance to the oracle at Delphi. (A place well known for giving cryptic but astonishingly prescient advice–the disconnect between the wisdom/efficacy of the advice and the resulting actions endeavored based upon the advice given frequently catastrophically hinging on folks really not having a clue about their essential nature.)

And huge thanks to Kyotocat for working with me through a bazillion different variations on this concept before nudging me in the direction of something that didn’t immediately come crashing down under it’s own weight of self-serious import.