It's All About Color!

MEG member Susan Meyers shares some insights into her new series, It's All About Color, as well as some thoughts on getting out of your comfort zone with your photography. It's All About Color is on view at Multiple Exposures Gallery through May 6, 2013.

Your new show It’s All About Color has been described as a real departure for you. How so?  This work is different for me in two ways. First, it’s intensely colorful, which is something I’ve never presented before. Pre-digital, I worked mostly in black-and-white with some subtle hand coloring. I never did any color darkroom work. Since converting to digital photography, my photographs have been in color, but in most instances, still strongly monochrome with maybe a few pops of color.

Second, the images are much more abstract than anything I have done in the past. My comfort zone has been capturing images of places and things. Moving to the abstract was a big change.

(c) Susan Meyers

(c) Susan Meyers

What sparked this creative shift? During a visit to the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, I saw an exhibition of work by glass artist Dale Chihuly and was taken by the beauty of his work. I knew my two-dimensional camera wasn’t capable of capturing the full complexity of his three-dimensional work, but I still wanted to convey what my mind’s eye was seeing. Rather than simply record the installations, I focused on the color, light, movement, shape and texture of small sections within the larger whole to capture what I was feeling.
Now that you’ve ventured into intense color and abstracts, will you do more work in this area? I hope so.  But this series came as a total surprise to me.  I had no idea that the Chihuly show would have this impact on me when we decided to drive to Richmond for the day.  A friend went to see the show and came back with many positive things to say about it and my sister-in-law has been working in glass for many years.  So the trip to see the show just sort of evolved into a family outing.

Once there, I just went with it.  Some of the installations took up entire rooms. From the start, I knew I’d be focusing on small areas. Because it was a low-light situation, the movement and flow in the pictures just came naturally.  There are additional photographs from that day that I haven’t had time to work with yet, so I still need to go back  and see what other little “treasures” I might have hiding.  This is also the first time I’ve used some of the special effects available in Photoshop in any serious way (only two images in the current show were manipulated).
 
I don’t like to use a tripod, and find that the more equipment I carry and the heavier it is, the fewer photographs I take.  So, this type of work seems like a natural progression for me.

What advice can you give photographers interested in moving out of their comfort zones?  What is the benefit of trying something new?  We’re living in an exciting time in the history of photography.  It has never been easier to experiment or try new ideas.  Once you have a camera and a chip, the sky’s the limit.  

(c) Susan Meyers

I’m especially excited for the kids of today.  Many of us had cameras as children, but in my case, and I’m sure many others, I was dependent on how much my parents were willing and able to support my interest.  We were limited by how many rolls of film our parents would buy and pay to process.  Now, most families have computers and once you have a basic set up, there is no limit to the number of pictures you can make at a very low or no cost.  And, because it costs nothing, there's no reason not to experiment. 

Try some crazy idea.  If it doesn't work you don't have to show it to anyone.  Just as photography emancipated painters and gave us Picasso and Dali and Pollock, I wonder who digital photography will give us. 

Q&A: SQUARE MEALS by Eric Johnson

MEG member Eric Johnson shares some insights into his latest series, Square Meals, as well as some tips for producing outstanding black-and-white photographs. Square Meals is on view at Multiple Exposures Gallery through May 6, 2013.

Is it true that a photograph of a waffle shop led to your latest show, Square Meals? I had walked by the Waffle Shop on many occasions, and planned how I wanted to photograph it in my mind long before I actually took my camera there to make the exposure.  What I was hoping for was early morning twilight, with the lights inside the building balancing the light on the façade, and a sliver of dark sky at the top to balance the

(c) Eric Johnson

well-worn asphalt street.  But on the morning that I went to finally realize this vision, I found that the Waffle Shop was closed.  Permanently.  After over 50 years in that location, they had closed the week before to make way for a planned redevelopment of the block.

While I was still able to capture a different image of the now-closed Waffle Shop, the experience made me think how we sometimes assume that just because a place has been around for a long time, it will always be there in the future.   That is obviously not the case for buildings in a dynamic, urban environment and that realization led me to begin a project that documents similar restaurants and small markets in the various stages of their lifecycles.
 

(c) Eric Johnson

The images often evoke a feeling of nostalgia in individuals when they see them. Did you intend to make a statement about loss? The locations depicted in this body of work vary in their current uses – some have been in continuous daily use for years, some have been adapted to other purposes, and some have been demolished to make way for revitalized neighborhoods.  Despite this disparity, all have retained their unique character that sets them apart from the increasing homogenization of the contemporary landscape.  However, these images are not intended to be an indictment of the inevitable progression of the urban landscape, but rather an acknowledgment of the transitory nature of these everyday places.

The series is a beautiful example of the power of black-and-white photography.   Where did you learn your B&W skills? I started out in photography shooting and processing black and white film.  I did my own developing and darkroom work, and by doing so I developed my love of the medium and an appreciation for the challenges of creating strong images of a world rendered in shades of gray.  Now, when I’m out photographing I can look at a scene and visualize how I want it to look in black and white.  I look for compositions where the colors are not really an essential part of the image; instead I’m more focused on lines, form, light, and shadow to build the image.  

(c) Eric Johnson

What do you think differentiates a great B&W print from merely a good one?
Assuming a strong composition and interesting light, I think that one of the things that differentiates a great black and white print from an average print is that the tonal range and contrast must be appropriate to the subject.  It is particularly important to preserve detail at the extreme ends of the tonal range, particularly in the shadow areas, where it is easy to lose detail if the exposure is not optimized at capture.   I pay a lot of attention to the histograms on both the initial capture and while processing the image on the computer, so I can ensure that there is adequate detail in both the highlight and shadow areas.

Do you have any advice for someone interested in developing their digital black-and-white photography skills?  I think that someone who is new to black and white should first try to get a feel for what a great black and white image looks like.  Pick up a book with high quality reproductions of photographs by, for instance, George Tice, Brett Weston, or Ansel Adams.  Or look at a copy of Lenswork magazine, which publishes several portfolios of exquisite black and white photography each month.  Take note of how the photographers handle lighting, tone, and contrast, and also the types of subject matter that are amenable to rendering in black and white.
After you have an idea of what type of image you are aiming for in terms of tonal range and contrast, experiment with some of the many software applications of plug-ins that enable conversion of black and white images to color.  Entire books have been written on the topic of converting black and white digital images to color, but you don’t need to have that type of encyclopedic knowledge to begin.  Instead of trying every different conversion technique, I would recommend focusing on one method until you are proficient and feel comfortable with the results. 

Editioned Prints: How Many Is Too Many?

MEG member and fine art photography collector Tim Hyde continues to share his knowledge and perspective on the role editioning plays in collecting fine art photography.

“Editioning” is really a shortened way of describing a “limited edition,” and means the same thing in offering photographic prints as in books:  a set number of copies produced, usually with each copy numbered and signed.    It denotes that the print will NOT be produced in mass quantities and always implies a degree of rarity.

Beneath the Roses (Woman at the Vanity) - Gregory Crewdson

Sometimes a photographer will offer a “limited edition” with an edition size of several hundred.  Editions this size are usually a marketing gimmick and often reveal either naiveté or amateurishness on the part of the seller (and buyer too, for that matter).   When, rarely, practiced by an established photographer, it comes off as a bit of an insult—at least to most collectors. Mary Ellen Carter, for example, editions her classic black and white prints in the hundreds.  She is a fine photographer, but not very “collector friendly” because of this.

I would argue that, with rare exceptions, editions of more than 25 are really the same as an un-editioned print, at least as an investment.  Keith Carter, another fine photographer, produces beautiful silver gelatins that sell at retail for $1000-1500 in editions ranging from 35 to 50.  With one exception (“fireflies,” which is sold out in silver) his prints can be picked up at auction—for several hundred dollars, tops.  In other words, collectors simply do not consider them “rare”.  He and his galleries set the retail price, but the secondary market sets the auction prices.
 
There are several methods of editioning photographic prints.  One method, which is efficient for both the photographer and the collector, is to have different edition sizes for different prints sizes.  So, for example, Gregory Crewdson offers prints from his series “Beneath the Roses” prints in two sizes and editions:   18x24 in editions of 20, and  55x88 in editions of 6.   Sometimes a photographer will limit the sizes to two, sometimes there are three or four different sizes, edition sizes, and prices.

Another common method for deploying editions is to use “step editions.”   A photographer might set an edition size of 10, for example, but different numbers in the edition would have different prices.  So, prints 1-3 might go for one price, prints 4-6 for a bit higher,  7-9 higher still, and the last print in the edition would go for a lot more than the others.  Once the print is sold out, all ten will presumably be more valuable on the secondary market.  As with many other market-based transactions, the early buyers take the most risk but reap the most rewards.

One final word about edition sizes.  Usually a photographer reserves two or three “artists proofs” (“a/p”) for him or herself.  You can often buy these along with the number prints from the gallery, but more often they are held in reserve by the photographer for museum or special collection acquisitions.  

Q&A With Soomin Ham

(c) Soomin Ham

Multiple Exposure Gallery (MEG) is featuring the work of its newest members -- Soomin Ham, Tim Hyde and Fred Zafran -- through March 24th. The show's images reflect the three photographers’ very different ways of seeing and interpreting the world around us.

In the show, Soomin offers a selection of intensely personal, yet still universal, images from three series: Unseen, Dreamscape, and Sound of Butterfly. She shares some thoughts on her work below:

Your work in this show has a very personal origin. Would you tell us about it?  I lost my mother three years ago and it was sudden and unpredicted. In my grief, I began collecting the scattered memories that I shared with her. It was painful to see them in the family footage, but I began to feel gratitude for her love, her passions, her dreams, and the many things that she shared with me. I wanted to bring them to life through my photographic series, Unseen, Dreamscape and Sound of Butterfly.

Please tell us more about the series and your creative process.  Over the years, I developed an idea of combining images using old photographs and movies made by my father in the 1970s. Unseen is created from old negatives from my childhood that were never printed.  It is a photographic collage made of 20 digital enlargements of over- or under-exposed first-frame negatives, cropped and printed.  Based on the relative time frame and visual appeal, the selected images are torn by hand, and randomly arranged to form a quilt-like pattern.
Dreamscape is a series of photographic landscapes created from family portraits that are combined with still images from a family movie.  The projected movie was photographed and layered with ephemeral images to transform the work into an abstract image.
Sound of Butterfly is a portrait of still lifes composed with soft, blurry, and close up images.  I see it as a poetic metaphor of my mother’s journey through life.  Butterflies were favorites of hers, and for me, they are a symbol of rebirth.

(c) Soomin Ham

 What influences inspire your work?  My background in classical music and my Eastern culture have inspired my work. The common elements and correlation between music and visual arts fascinate me and they have helped expand my artistic vision. Both reward simplicity and balance and their influence helps add meaning to my compositions.

(c) Soomin Ham

Your work in this show is intensely personal, yet universal at the same time. How do you account for this? I believe the work itself should be able to tell the story behind the image.  I hope the viewers can find and relate to similar moments in their own lives and experiences when they observe these works.