You know, I read a piece by you a couple weeks ago, John, where you
described your father simply "eyeballing" a scene for exposure and it
really hit home. My dad wasn't into photography, hunting was his thing, and
to cut a long story short I never could develop his dead eye or passion for
stalking animals and eventually (when I was 14 as I recall) I laid down my
rifle and picked up a camera (figuratively--at the time I didn't own one)
instead to "shoot" the deer out there and whatnot with. (Just call me a
softy at heart. <g>)
Anyway, your tale reminded me of my youth and the time I spent watching my
father and hanging on his every word as he patiently tried to explain to me
this or that. It transported me back to my formative years and somehow made
me feel good inside, and I just wanted to say thanks for the memories.
Tris
P.S. By the way, the technical quality of that photograph I presented in my
college photo 101 class was, as you'd expect, substandard. No way an
Instamatic could do better with that silly plastic lens it used. But
compositionally I felt my work was something of a success and at the time I
craved recognition of that, with perhaps an extrapolated nod toward what
the "quality" of the picture I took might have been reasonably expected to
be had I used better equipment. I admit modest disappointment at having not
received this soft treatment from that professor. Having said as much, I
learned a lot from the old coot (he had to have been pushing 65 when I knew
him) in the short time I spent in his class, and no matter how hard line
and snobbish he was when it came to equipment. Indeed, I dare say an artist
(actually, this applies to any field of endeavor) can only hope to learn
best in an atmosphere of ultimate expectation and severe criticism.
Anything less demanding might make a person feel better about himself or
his "art" or whatever the occupation is but will, as it only could, hamper
development. Unfortunately, the latter state (call it "warm and fuzzy") is
what most people want and need, and a causal inspection of life (and the
low standards which mainly go to make up that life) around us should serve
as ample testimony to that. But as the man said, we make our beds and then
must lie in them.
At 18:57 2/4/02, Tris Schuler wrote:
I took my college class with a Kodak Instamatic. The professor took one
look at that equipment and pronounced in no uncertain terms I would
receive no higher grade than a C, and this assumed I would do everything
else perfectly. Sure enough, he gave me a C at the end, which was, by the
way, the lowest grade I ever got in college. My final photograph was
better than okay, though, and this teacher admitted as much--albeit
grudgingly. <g>
There's no explaining judgement and critiques in the Fine Arts, graphic or
performing. If under a teacher or professor, or your the work is being
juried you're at the complete mercy of the individual(s) who pass
judgement. At times it can be blatant egotistical, self-serving
snobbery. Learned many, many years ago in performing arts not to take any
of it personally. Unfortunately in your case it also affected a
GPA. Does sound as if you won a minor moral victory even if it wasn't
enough to change the grade.
Critiques are what they are; sometimes arbitrary and capricious. If
constructive toward achieving perfection in what is "visualized" they're
helpful. If not, especially if they're an imposition of someone else's (a
juror's) "vision" and "style," they should be noted and discarded. The
most famous artists successfully create and communicate their own unique
style. Those that copy them, while they may be excellent in their own
right, remain Art History footnotes.
Other things being equal, superior equipment must count. But first the
photographer needs to get that far through other means.
Equipment provides capabilities, flexibility and alternatives. You're
dead on: the photographer must know how to exploit these to achieve what
is "visualized." Some day I hope to be as good as my father was; he shot
Kodachrome using an Argus C3 "brick." I look back through the archive of
his Kodachromes with amazement at what he was able to do with it.
-- John
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