Photography Vs. "Photography"

There's a British artist I worked with many years ago who had one of the most delightful ways of viewing objects that I've ever witnessed. Her work generally falls into the category of what I'd call "reconsidered readymades," and she has this wonderful ability to see any object's potential to transcend its ordinariness and present it in such a way as to reveal something else to us about its form. Walking down the street in Williamsburg with her once, she spotted a very simple object lying on the sidewalk. Almost absent-mindedly she picked it up, began turning it this way and that way, and within seconds had presented it in several different unimaginably charming ways in quick succession, and then stuffed it in her bag to take back to her studio and think about it some more, and resumed our conversation. I was enthralled and wished that I could see the world through her eyes...through her mind.

It's that ability, to see the world around you in ways that surprises others that I think Paul Graham was trying to get at in his presentation at MoMA's Photography Forum, 16th February 2010. It's an essay that's apparently stirring up lots of commentary in the photography quarters of the contemporary art world. His essay's thesis is how

[T]here remains a sizeable part of the art world that simply does not get photography. They get artists who use photography to illustrate their ideas, installations, performances and concepts, who deploy the medium as one of a range of artistic strategies to complete their work. But photography for and of itself -photographs taken from the world as it is– are misunderstood as a collection of random observations and lucky moments, or muddled up with photojournalism, or tarred with a semi-derogatory ‘documentary’ tag.

I'm not at all sure the division between photographs taken from the world as it is and photography used as a medium toward other ends (often to record images created for just that purpose) is as important to me as it seems to be to many of the photography-only enthusiasts I know. (In fact, I'm hardly aware of of the division at all until someone brings it up...I'm a pretty medium-neutral sort of guy.) But I know that it's something that feels liked forced segregation to many folks. Paul gets to the heart of why this might be in his piece:

The broader art world has no problems with the work of Jeff Wall, or Cindy Sherman or James Casebere or Thomas Demand partly because the creative process in the work is clear and plain to see, and it can be easily articulated and understood what the artist did: Thomas Demand constructs his elaborate sculptural creations over many weeks before photographing them; Cindy Sherman develops, acts and performs in her self-portraits. In each case the handiwork of the artist is readily apparent: something was synthesized, staged, constructed or performed. The dealer can explain this to the client, the curator to the public, the art writer to their readers, etc. The problem is that whilst you can discuss what Jeff Wall did in an elaborately staged street tableaux, how do you explain what Garry Winogrand did on a real New York street when he ‘just’ took the picture? Or for that matter what Stephen Shore created with his deadpan image of a crossroads in El Paso? Anyone with an ounce of sensitivity knows they did something there, and something utterly remarkable at that, but... what? How do we articulate this uniquely photographic creative act, and express what it amounts to in terms such that the art world, highly attuned to synthetic creation -the making of something by the artist- can appreciate serious photography that engages with the world as it is?

Paul goes on to articulate this "uniquely photographic creative act" in a somewhat mystical way IMO:

perhaps we can agree that through force of vision these artists strive to pierce the opaque threshold of the now, to express something of the thus and so of life at the point they recognised it. They struggle through photography to define these moments and bring them forward in time to us, to the here and now, so that with the clarity of hindsight, we may glimpse something of what it was they perceived. Perhaps here we have stumbled upon a partial, but nonetheless astonishing description of the creative act at the heart of serious photography: nothing less than the measuring and folding of the cloth of time itself.

To my mind, however, it's much simpler. What separates out great photography that presents images "taken from the world as it is" from the sort of holiday snaps I take is that ability I described in my opening. Essentially, it's the ability to "see." And of course have a camera handy at the moment you do and know what to do with it to capture what you see.

But, coming out of a month of listening to similar complaints about the inequalities within the art world (anyone who had been promised that the art world was going to be "fair" should demand their money back), I have to say that the section of Paul's piece that rang my "A-ha!" bell, was :

But... what of those who work today with equal commitment and sincerity, using straight photography in the cacophonous present? I will not name names here, but for these serious photographers the fog of time still obfuscates their efforts, and the blindness j’accuse some of the art world of suffering from, narrows their options. It means their work will almost never be considered for Documenta, or placed alongside other artists in a Biennale, or found for sale in major contemporary art galleries and art fairs.

It always comes back to that: One part of the art world is biased against my kind of painting/sculpture/performance/ceramics/video/photography. Even when it's actually not (Nina Berman at the Whitney Biennial now, and, arguably, Ion Grigorescu at the last Documenta being just two examples). I want more access than I currently have!!

I understand the impulse to imagine it's a conspiracy, but I think you only serve to heighten the biases that might be there by framing them in an "us vs. them" way. As in any medium, it comes down to the work itself. There's a strong mix of nearly all media in just about any of the venues noted. So I don't think that's a valid complaint.

I don't think that's the heart of it anyway. Paul also argues,

[Not being considered for Documenta, a Biennale, or found in major contemporary art galleries and art fairs] does not just deprive the public of the work, and the work of its place, it denies these artists the self-confidence that enables them to grow, to feel appreciation and affirmation, not to mention some modest financial reward allowing them to continue to work.

I've heard similar arguments a lot over the last month, and I have two responses to them.

First, is that NO ONE owes any artist asking to be considered for Documenta or a biennial or a place in a major commercial gallery the breathing space to develop "the self-confidence that enables them to grow, to feel appreciation and affirmation." This is the big leagues, kids. Bring your A-game to those courts, check your insecurities at the door, or step aside. Seriously. It ain't kindergarten we're talking about there, but the winner-takes-all, uber-competitive mega-arenas from which history will be written. There's no room for whining here.

My second response, though, assuming Paul had put the cart before the horse and actually meant that it's by having a nurturing system (without a bias against certain practices within photography) in place that you encourage emerging photographers to reach for those big league brass rings, is to note that if you walk around any art fair these days, you'll see an incredibly wide range of media, including tons of photography (and photography galleries that specialize in the kind of work Paul is describing are right there along side them at most fairs). There are probably more paintings than anything else (because the public still feels more comfortable buying paintings than they do any other medium), but not as much as there used to be.

With broader diversity comes overall less opportunity for each medium. If you add ceramics, quilts, video, audio, installation, etc. etc. to the mix (and the commercial galleries have), then you have to present less painting and you have to present less photography...there's only so much room in those booths. Where I'm going with this is to suggest that the perception of limited opportunities for what I'll term "straight photography" seems more imagined than real to me.

Paul himself notes

[I]t has become apparent just what Robert Frank or Garry Winogrand or Diane Arbus or Robert Adams accomplished back in the 50’s, 60’s or 70’s, and for that we must be grateful. For the great exhibitions at the Met, the Whitney, the Guggenheim, and of course MoMA itself; for the books, the catalogues, the enlightened essays: I thank you.

Getting to the Met, Whitney, Guggenheim, and MoMA is kind of the ultimate goal of those other venues anyway. Having history validate the importance of your work (and your way of working) is the apex, in my opinion. So I'm not sure what the fuss is all about to be quite honest. Unless there are simply too many such photographers and not enough opportunities for them all alongside all the other artists working in all those other media. To which I'll say what I always say: Too bad. Get out there and make better art than anyone else around you and the world WILL notice.