considering pictures | sean justice > open journal

All photos copyright Laurie Lambrecht A terrifically exciting component of any photo festival, aside from the portfolio reviews , is the range of exhibits you'll see. One of my favorites this year at Fotofest was Laurie Lambrecht's project, Inside Roy Lichtenstein's Studio , from her days as Lichtenstein's assistant. Roy in Red Interior , 1992 Laurie worked in Lichtenstein's studio in the early 1990s, assisting in the daily routine, and occasionally making photographs. About the experience: One of my greatest joys was that Roy appreciated the photos I was taking.  He liked the way I used the elements from his work in my compositions.  His work was so often art about art and my photos were reflecting, revisiting and honoring his art.  I remember exactly the day I photographed "Roy in Yellow interior".  It was a very pleasant morning in Southampton.  He arrived in the studio a few minutes after me.  After greeting each other he said " today woul...

On the computer all day. Had to take a break late this afternoon. What does the rain look like? These are regular woods up the hill from my house. I'm crouching in the wet mud and pointing my camera slightly up. In a month the leaves will be thick against the sky.

This month I went to Houston to show my portfolio at Fotofest. This is essential: show your pictures. There are many different photo review events; I wrote about the fun at Photolucida last year ( here ). Previous to Photolucida I'd been to the review in Atlanta, and to several other reviews here in the New York area. Wherever you live, whatever photographic stage you're on, attending a photo review is a valuable goal. The structure of each review is fairly similar: photographers register and pay a review fee; the organizers distribute a list of the curators, critics, and gallerists who will be attending; you research their biographies and decide whom you'd most like to see; a few days before the event your appointment schedule arrives. (Some of the smaller, one-day events don't distribute a list ahead of the event itself; rather, you sign up for appointments when you arrive at the venue.) The day of the event (or days — Fotofest and Photolucida are multi-day ev...

We're over the middle part now and it's time to start digging into something sustained. We're talking projects. Every week I show you pictures from artists who have taken a stand, made a mark, looked carefully. And I ask you to simply drink in their pictures, to trust yourself, and to respond. What do you want to look at? What do you want me to see? Sometimes you answer that question by simply getting up, getting outside, breathing, and getting involved, taking pictures. And sometimes it's more quiet and internal. There's no right answer; it's your choice; it's your response. But you must respond. Even if you're not sure exactly how or why — pick up the camera and make a picture. During the last snowfall a couple weeks ago (dare we hope it was the last?), I was drawn to this backyard basketball hoop across the street. It resonated for me, but I didn't know why. From my window I watched the snow fall through the night. And in the morning...

Walking with Connor. We get to the top of the hill. Saturday. At home on Staten Island. Last week we worked on technology and a lot of different names of stuff. This week we'll do it some more. As always, we'll keep looking at pictures. And as I've said and will say again: right now is not the hardest part. Right now the tech of this stuff feels difficult (there are so any different buttons!), and learning what everything is called takes a lot of time (and it's tough to ask a question if we don't speak the same language!)... ...but soon you'll have crested this learning curve (you'll have memorized the buttons and the names of things), and then the truly difficult part of being a photographer will begin. That's right -- you have to keep taking pictures. Sometimes you have to force yourself, in fact. Even if you're not "in the mood" or if "there's nothing to photograph at home"...take your camera with you and just keep...

Walking in the winter with Diana and Brendan; I'm not going to not see the Callahan trees surrounding me. Automatic. Can't help it. I know it's cliche. Sorry about that. But there's history here too. The contrast, the sequence, the rhythm, the simplicity. Those Callahan pictures from the 1950s resonate for me; they come to back to me from my earliest thoughts of pictures and photography. Do an image google if you're not sure what I'm talking about. And do you remember the conversation that's in the background, especially of the series of weeds in snow? The story as I recall it is around Callahan's introduction to photography at a workshop in Detroit by Ansel Adams. Apparently there was a long discussion about how to expose properly for snow — how to keep the detail in the negative but not underexpose, how to compensate in the developing, how to print it just down enough to make it feel bright but not too bright. Even if you've never done ...

The question comes up: what is white balance? Two responses: First: White is the wrong word. "White balance" as a term of digital photography refers to the color feeling, color emotion, color balance in the photo.

A note, a reminder: do not delete. In class yesterday this idea caught some folks by surprise. I don't know what makes an idea resonate, or when. Here it is again: do not delete pictures from your digital camera when you're taking pictures. Instead, after the pictures have been downloaded to the computer, reformat the card with the camera's "format" menu. There are two reasons for this:

No matter where you are when you begin or get up to go again, whether this is your first class in photography or your fifteenth, whether you're continuing from last term or going back to school for the first time after a long break — we have to start at the picture itself. What I mean is, learning photography begins with paying attention to pictures.

Long walks in winter break the malaise and settle the soul. With my son the other week, sub-freezing, sun low, we talked about the coming year. Classes begin this week. I'm looking forward to starting up again. As you know (I think), education is my passion. Next to actually making pictures, it's what I think about the most. Ken Robinson: Children starting school this year will be retiring in 2065. Nobody has a clue, despite all the expertise,...what the world will look like in five years time, and yet we're meant to be educating them for it. What I find moving and of most immediacy is this conversation about how we learn what we learn. And the purpose of learning itself. Working with you this spring I hope we'll scratch the surface on this topic. When we talk about photography — apertures, ISO, shutter speeds, cameras, papers, computers — I think, at root, we're also talking about paying attention to ourselves and to others, and exploring the way we learn. That...

In the morning at St George the sun skids into the terminal and skews the grid of the day, reminding us of our shadows and our momentary passing. An open letter to everyone who worked with me these last four months: Congratulations on finishing (and beginning) your study of photography! I know the learning curve can be stressful and perhaps even overwhelming at times. But you’re on the way now… In closing the year on our work together I’d like to briefly repeat something I’ve said several times, beginning from the first day we met: these are exciting times to be working in the visual arts. We’re entering an uncharted world of picture-making, and you are at the threshold of these new days. From my perspective, having watched these changes over these last twenty years, from the pre-digital, non-digital, what-is-digital??, into the current thrill-ride rollercoaster of new possibilities and challenges, it feels momentous and extraordinary. Last week at a holiday party with photographers an...

This is my favorite time of year. In class you're making pictures that couldn't have been predicted even a few short weeks ago. I'm enthralled by the process, this convergence, this transmutation of one thing into another thing, idea into material, image into body. I don't know how it happens, even as it unfolds right in front of me. Last Sunday afternoon at the Brooklyn Central Library we heard Trio Solisti perform chamber music from several different eras. As always, the comfortable elegance of the Dweck Center was the perfect setting for a quiet reprieve from the rush of the end of the term. (I've written about the Library's concert program here , and I still recommend it strongly.) The end of the afternoon brought Modest Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition . You've probably heard it before; I'd heard it many times but never knew what it was called. (Click the 'play' button to hear the Promenade opening.) The story behind this comp...

On the ferry, end of day, low light across the harbor: a woman steps up to snap a photo for Penelope. Later, I'm sure, another sun will set on flickr, where Penelope will find it. Another sun among the millions. Centuries past Galileo we prove him wrong — we're at the center, finally. See Penelope Umbrico's take on it: a glimpse of agreement we barely understand.

With a photo project, the more you push into it, the more it starts to feel inevitable. That's when you let go a little and allow your intuition take some of the weight. That's when I switch on automatic pilot and start to feel a kind of lightness. I've been noticing the flower pictures around me for years now, and have started to make notes and reportage pictures of those pictures more seriously. I feel it gathering gravity. In fact, my awareness feels tweaked and tense: I find myself pulled into environments that resonate...and I smack into flower pictures. On Third Ave near 12th St I got a bagel after teaching. Toasted poppy seed with garlic herb cream cheese, and a side of Black-eyed Susans. Speaking of asides--a friend called over the weekend to say that she's buried in flowers too. Her daughters bring home flowers made of clay, paper, papier-mache, in crayon and paint, made from pipe cleaners and Popsicle sticks, and pulled from the gardens of neighbors as they wa...

Check it out. I found another picture tonight. At TC my colleague Cathy slapped down large rolls for a demo, and before we could get to tearing and folding I saw what was actually happening...a wonderland of texture material and edge. Love it. Ion saw it first. I was in his world for a moment. See his work on his website or at his gallery . Nice.

Teachers College, Columbia, after Shannon Fagan As we cross the half-way mark in the semester an old question appears again: what is a project in photography? In class the topic seems part of school, an assignment on the syllabus. But the word we use — project — applies to many endeavors (working an election, painting a kitchen, helping a friend move) and isn't rooted in this institution. Instead, working with photographs is part of life, a motivation for further learning. This is what I hope you'll take away from our time together. In our discussions I've asked you to think about what connects you to your life, what wakes you up in the morning. To begin, let your curiosity guide you — what do you want to know about? What do you want to learn about? There's no right or wrong answer to this question. Shanghai dish, apple, on the windowsill At root, though, is just that: a question. Whether your project is short-term (through the end of the semester) or follows a longer a...

Out the door but not quite I'm drawn to an iridescent whisper from the corner. Refraction reflecting my prismatic messenger. My god it's Iris. What color space is this? Below, my friends at the DOT manage the signs of good counsel to insure we pass quietly and don't collide. These are the days of peace and tranquility. The sun wheels across the heavens and brightness reigns, momentarily. Inspired I breathe and take a photograph, and then leave for the ferry to Manhattan. In the basement at ICP we'll dream of rainbows refracting past our screens.

NYSAT this morning: Voice for the future of our city. Before: After: Before: After: Before: Before: After: After each whitewashing we posted a notice of our intent: From the Metropolitan Landscape Control Committee: The MLCC has recently become aware of the fact that NPA City Outdoor is operating over 500 illegal street level billboards in NYC, as well as many illegal wildposting locations. Despite private contracts, and other previous arrangements made between NPA City Outdoor and building owners, the above-mentioned advertising locations have been found to be illegal due to lack of permitting and failure to adhere to New York City zoning regulations. Under the Department of Buildings sign code § 26-256 these advertisements are subject to civil penalties and violations of up to $15,000. The Municipal Landscape Control Committee has organized the whitewashing of all NPA City Outdoor street level advertising locations until further structural removal can be implemented. The continued po...

Please join me in a refreshing, free-form photo-share event. Sign up at the flickr group PhotoGroupFSJ to participate. The idea is to have a casual and inspirational conversation about photography and learning photography. I'm launching this flickr space in the hope that students and teachers can keep an outer-classroom discussion percolating, share random photo favorites, and talk about the experience of being photographers today. There aren't any restrictions! Anyone can join...teachers, students, student-teachers — after all, we're all embedded in the culture of the photo-world. One goal of the group is to mix it up, swap places — we can learn from each other. For instance, I learn a ton by talking with friends, students, other teachers, and even with people who don't even consider themselves 'photographers.' (And vice versa: you learn more about what you do when you gear up to teach about it.) I hope you'll come aboard for a while and share some thought...

Where do ideas come from? This is the question that takes a lifetime. You know how to use the camera; you're learning the computer; and printing just takes time and practice (lots of practice). The hard stuff is more diffuse than that, more difficult to touch: where do you point your camera? what do you want me to see? what are you learning? Here's where we fight with each other. Some of my best friends and most valued colleagues believe it's impossible to teach artists to be artists, that you can't teach curiosity. I don't want to agree: if that's true, then what have I been doing all this time? The model I've proposed in the classroom is pretty simple: pay attention and respond. That's the core, I think. The essays and the photo prompts are all directed at it. So are the emails back-and-forth and the walking tours and the invitations to post on flickr. Then we close the loop with conversations about the pictures and about the process itself. At root is...