Carrying on the line of questioning I started last week, this
week drool brings you another question that can’t really be
answered. Namely: WHO CARES?

Once again, this bit of the post is pretty much me asking
myself questions, trying to figure out why I feel like I do,
sometimes, when confronted with the mundane imagery
I see. Photos that, presumably, people think others might
be interested in. After all, why am I seeing them on blogs,
websites and in galleries unless someone thinks they are
something?

But I won’t get on my high horse here, in the intro. You’ll
have to scroll down to the bit titled: WHO CARES?. If, that
is, you care.

Rochester, N.Y., 1983

GUERILLA #22

Guerilla is an Ottawa based publication/website edited by
Tony Martins and art directed by Paul (Paulie) Cavanaugh.

Quarterly they pump out stuff about “Ottawa culture at
ground level“, plus throw swell parties to celebrate the
new issue.

December 15th the launch and party is happening at at
hair salon, of all places. Details here. If you’re in Ottawa
that nite, well, there is no other place to be.

WHO CARES?

You take pictures? Who cares?

Who cares about the snaps and cellfone pix you take? Who
cares about the commercial fotos commercial fotografers
take to make a living? Who cares about all those perfectly
acceptable, stand-alone photos taken, photos that fairly
scream: “Hey, look at this picture I took, it turned out”,
but really have nothing more to add?

I suppose that these thoughts are related to last week’s
post, GOT BEEF?, where I wondered what people should
say when they come across bad, meaningless fotos that
are being held up, exhibited and posted for consideration.
After all, if you show your (personal) work in the context
of being a practicing photographer, presumably there is
some kind of thought and reason behind the work.

Think of “The Americans” by Robert Frank or “Sleeping
by the Mississippi” by Alec Soth. Think about the work
of August Sander, Nan Goldin, Helmut Newton, Diane
Arbus, Vanessa Winship, Pieter Hugo and so many more.
Photographers who are compelled, who have a passion,
to impress their take on the world.

Why is their work held and studied? Why does it seem to
resonate and last?

Seems to me it’s because their work defines a deep, complex,
relationship to the world. You can see the intelligence of the
(camera) operator in the breadth of their photo sequences, in
the curious way they perceive and react to their world.

Of course there are photographers who produce and show
work that just makes no sense to me, work that I would
define as, at best, a circle jerk and, at worst, a waste of
(my) time. Presumably these photographers find an
audience, their work even moves people.

So where does that leave us?

Pretty much in the same place GOT BEEF? left off. drool
will not say you should like THIS and to not like THAT;
will not tell you what should move you, what you should
consume.

It’s just that I look around and see so little passion, or, if
there is passion, it seems so often based on sentimentality
(unearned emotion) and cliché Or the search for acceptance
and status. It seems to just be based on what’s expected,
there is no penetration, I perceive no journey.

And I have to admit, I don’t mind admitting, that that bugs
me. I’ve thought for a long time that the only real purpose
to life was to move forward. Photography, how it can show
you markers on this trip, how it can be a tool for movement,
seems so often to be given short shrift, it’s possibilities seem
so often negated by the failure of our imaginations and what
I consider the misplacement of our passion.

So, why do you take pictures? And why should anybody care?

I have no answers.

I’m just asking.

OTTAWA, 1988/2001