Jack WelpottSherry (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.)

Jack Welpott – [←] 65 Ave Paris (197X); [→] Elle se lave (1973)

For all I know about photography, I have some enormous lapses. (One of the only lasting + pervasive drawbacks of being an autodidact.)

I had never heard of Welpott until I encountered Elle se lave this morning.

The first thing I noticed was the two mirrors like eyeglass lenses. (It reminded me of one of many breathtaking shots in Raw–specifically the bifurcated bathroom mirror after Justine vomits, where another girl overhears her and assumes she’s purging instead of legitimately ill.)

I popped over to Welpott’s website and immediately took note of the first photo above. It’s interesting because in both images the camera has a noticeable down tilt. I’m normally not fond of this. I prefer interior scenes like my web design: clean and minimal.

As such, I’m inclined to read the camera here as self-conscious. (To my mind, the downward angle eventually draws attention to the camera. Also, angling down when the photographer is made by a cishet male and the subject is a woman are über problematic given you know centuries of entitled patriarchal hegemony and the dependence of such modes of command and control on the subservience of women..)

Yet, the ambiguity between authority and self-doubt actually comes across in these. So there’s that. (Also, I was able to go for a walk this morning and I walked eastward with the sun in my eyes the entire way. I noticed the way I looked at the ground in front of my feet–there are sometimes snakes chilling out on this trail, so you have to watch out; and it feels to me like these images have a similar privileging near as opposed to far–which adds a-whole-nother level of ambiguity to the proceedings.)

But then I read in his bio that Welpott played jazz piano and said of his photography:

When I’m working behind a camera, I feel like I’m trying to achieve something like a jazz musician does.

(This resonates with me because one of the reasons I’m a photographer is because I lack any sort of innate sense of rhythm and that ruins my chances of being a musician. I love music. In fact, I’ve gotten higher off of experiences of sonic immersion than I ever have on drugs. Also, I’ve been actively listening to more music than I have in years–it’s a really great time to be a metal lover, tbh.)

And that makes me wonder if I find these mirrored resonances in other peoples’ work because I’m attempting to feel less alone or if assiduous efforts to understand one’s self actually causes you to see yourself in the other?

Also, I’ve been doing a shit ton of drugs… so it could just all be in my head. (Yep, it’s probably that. But–in the same breath: I do think it’s interesting that the downward angle is paired with landscape oriented frames. I think if I was a little bit more together, I’d actually be able to sharpen this into another reason why there really isn’t a justification for #skinnyframebullshit more often than I am inclined to call #skinnyframebullshit.