Thematic
Description

The overarching theme for my work is "Contemplate, Meditate" because the images at first appear merely soothing before the viewer discovers the many depths and subtle details. Each viewing brings new revelations — about the image or one's response to it.

From my point of view, it's one time when it's perfectly fine to stare.

The genesis for "Contemplate, Meditate" may have been internal, but it was external input that helped formulate the theme. Like any artist, I have a portfolio that goes with me almost everywhere. Time and again the viewer would settle in with a few favorite images and comment they were "soothing," "meditative," or "calming."

At first I wondered what it was these viewers were missing, because I often see frenetic energy in my images. Maybe that's just a byproduct of the effort that goes into creating them. I don't know whether my immersion with the original image gives me an advantage in this matter, but I honestly think stripping away the strict reality of a photographic image frees that energy to reinforce the essence I find attractive in the final image. (See essay regarding Pictorial Photography, below.)

Technique/
Medium

The images begin as old-fashion, 35mm negatives and slides, taken with a decades-old Minolta X-700. Most often, I shoot from a tripod in available light, set for maximum exposure time with the smallest aperture light conditions allow. Once processed, the negatives or slides are scanned for digital processing in Photoshop.

My objective for the images is to strip/manipulate them to a Contemporary Realism or Impressionist essence before output. This output is currently done using archival pigment-based inks and acid-free Arches and Somerset watercolor papers or canvas. Although the images may be heavily manipulated, each is created from the original exposure. Nothing is inserted to augment existing or add missing elements.

Aside from the steps I use between visualization and the final product, the result is the same as with any other fine art technique or medium — a long-lasting, beautiful work of art.

 Pictorial
Photography

 For many, first exposure to my work brings bafflement. I frequently observe the phases of discovery flash across their faces as they work through the process of figuring out what it is they are viewing. Not the material presented in my images, but the processes. The more sophisticated viewers — even those who use the same tools as I — pause to confirm their suspicions. Often with a knowing nod, equally as often with a quietly mouthed "fantastic," "awesome" or "incredible."

I’m sure many artists have to develop ways to cope with this discovery process, just as each wonders if it will ever turn into a paying proposition. As a self-taught "arriviste" to the art scene, I’m more likely to explain my work with the timeworn "I don’t know if it’s art, but I know what I like" than a rounded discourse on my influences, technique and rationale. The more I have been exposed to the honest, innocent question: "What is it?" the more I have felt uncomfortable about not having a more developed answer than "It’s photography, actually."

Finally, help arrived in the form of a special number of The Photo Review devoted to celebrating "Camera Work," the quarterly publication initiated by Alfred Stieglitz at the turn of the 20th century. An essay by Peter Bunnell explained what made the work of Stieglitz and his contemporaries different. Just as the Impressionists had moved away from strict representational painting, Pictorial Photographers worked to "dissociate their work from the look of applied photographs … and to make photographs that mimic works of art in other media." According to Bunnell, the Pictorial movement "reflected deeper social concerns and aesthetic values and these should be seen as their linkage to the world of art." This would also seem to mirror the Impressionists. And therewith, I feel comfortable my chosen method of visual expression is, legitimately, art.

Of course, I don’t hold myself in the same company as Stieglitz. But I do feel the same need as he to educate the public about the validity of my form of artistic expression. Today, more than a century after Stieglitz began his quest, it is not unusual for the more "traditional" artists to deride or scoff at an artist who uses a shutter release, mouse and monitor rather than a brush, pencil and easel. But my skin is too thick to allow their frustrations to take me down. And with this historical basis for my aesthetic choices, it will be much easier to have ready that important discourse on influences, technique and rationale — at least for those who wish to discuss it more deeply.