Whenever you begin something new, you tend to learn a lot in a short time. Here are 3 insights I gained in my earliest years of photography:
I learned to expect the unexpected.
Things sometimes happen quickly when we are composing a photo. There can be a lot of activity in the frame (or almost no activity), yet something or somebody new can suddenly become part of it. The photo above is from my second-ever roll of slide film. On the right you can see a man on a bicycle entering the frame. I had no idea he was there when I took the photo, and was so surprised much later to find this ghost-like figure in the photo. Photographer Gary Winogrand once famously said, “I photograph to see what the world looks like in photographs.”
I learned to pay attention to the quality of light.
Often, the quality or beauty of a photo is dependent upon the light. Take the same photo on an overcast day, and it may look drab and uninteresting. This isn’t to say that overcast days are bad for taking photos–good photos can be taken in a wide variety of lighting situations. (Notable, though, is that Lee Friedlander didn’t even take photos on overcast days.) It’s useful to pay attention to the intrinsic qualities of the light in order to optimize it.
And it takes so much time to figure out how various factors affect the final photo: is the light muted, diffuse, intense? Coming from one direction? Fluorescent, LED, neon? Is the sky pink, greenish, bright blue? Is rain or a storm on the way, or is there any haze in the air? All these elements, and more, mean we have to figure out how to compare the final photo with what was going on around us at the time, and observe what effects the quality of light can have. And find some way to remember the lessons the light has taught us.
I learned the value of the documentary photograph.
Looking at a photo many years later, you may not know exactly why you took it but still be glad you did. Among other things, photography has been a visual diary for me. It helps me remember the places I’ve been and things I’ve seen. Photos can also become valuable documents of things and places that no longer exist.
We never know the full significance of the photos we take. They’re a picture of a moment, and that moment is gone as soon as you’ve taken the picture. That place–or that person, or cloud, or animal–is already changing before you’ve even walked away. We don’t know until much later whether those changes will accrue quickly or gradually. We don’t know if we’ll ever be there again, ever talk with that person again. The relentlessness of change is masked by its ordinariness.
This has been so evident to me in hearing people’s responses to my Toronto Flashback series. Taken in the 1980s, they show a city that many feel no longer exists.
Alexis Gerard has been taking photos in the San Francisco Bay area for over 30 years. He has an amazing ability to capture the interplay of light and shadow. His photos have a sense of complexity, yet are easily accessible. They are sometimes humorous, sometimes banal, but almost always reveal something interesting beyond their literal content. For a more in-depth view of his work, check out his Suburban Bliss website, and Flickr.
I asked him eight questions about his work and his current projects.
Can you tell us about the projects you are working on these days?
I usually have several irons in the fire, because I prefer to rotate rather than to focus on a single one for a long time. I continue to document the mid-Peninsula area where I’ve lived for over 30 years – that’s an area half way between San Francisco and San Jose that is fast changing due to the explosion of the tech sector, and the resulting pressures in the economy, the demography, the infrastructure and the culture, that project is on my “Suburban Bliss” website. I’m also a fascinated by islands, and have been traveling to and photographing a number of them – the Hebrides, Easter Island, Malta, Crete, Corsica. And I’m always captivated by the interplay of light and shadow, on which I have an ongoing series of abstract-leaning photos and short videos.
Your photographs are beautiful and complex. At the same time, in some way they strike me as being easy to look at—the play of colour and light seems to combine with the subject matter in ways that allow us access. That’s just my take on your work. Do you have that feeling about it?
I deeply appreciate your saying this, it’s very kind of you. Also, you’re describing something I deliberately strive for, and constantly work at improving. I value beauty and I’m not satisfied with an image unless it achieves it on some level. As for complexity and accessibility; to me a really good image is one you can look at over a period of time and keep finding more and more to appreciate. But a really great image should do more than that, it should also have immediate appeal. I want the viewer to get some pleasure from my images at first glance and then, if they’re willing to invest time and attention, to get a lot more.
You know the old saying “throw enough mud against the wall and some of it is bound to stick”? Well, 2017 is the 40th year since I bought my first camera (an Olympus OM-2) and started photographing. That said, I think what shaped my “eye” most was my decision to have a camera with me at all times possible. A high-school friend of mine told me an anecdote about Cartier-Bresson: My friend’s parents were artistic, and knew Henri Cartier-Brersson socially. Once, when my friend was still a kid, the great photographer came to their place for afternoon tea. As my friend told it, he never stopped holding his Leica with both hands, poised like a tiger to grab an image if one came about. Without going to such extremes, having a camera with you constantly is what I’d recommend to anyone who wants to develop their eye and style. You take a lot more pictures that way, therefore you learn faster because you’re making so many mistakes you can learn from! And because you’re always alert for images, rather than thinking about what interests you, you actually find out by doing. This is why I’m excited about cameras in phones; I’m hoping they’ll help many people become great photographers.
A scene or an object attracts my attention when it intimates something to me that goes beyond its outward appearance. I know this may sound pretentious, but it’s a sense that what I’m looking at reveals something about the functioning of the universe that goes beyond our everyday understanding. It can’t be expressed in words, but a successful image has a chance to convey it. So, my images can appear to be all over the map if someone goes by their literal subject matter (what they’re “of”), but when one focuses on what they’re trying to convey (what they’re “about”) they have a unity. At least I hope so! That’s kind of serious, so I should add I also photograph things because I find them funny or humorous.
What’s your state of mind when you’re taking good photos? Do you think there’s any connection between your mood or mindset and the results you get?
Yes, there’s definitely a connection. The kinds of images I hope for require being in an open and receptive state. You can’t have preconceptions about what you will photograph and be looking for specific things – if you do you’ll miss everything else. So, you go somewhere that’s related to a project you’re working on (or not). You allow your awareness to be diffuse, rather than focused on anything in particular, and you find out there and then what to photograph. Another way to put it is that you don’t go out to photograph, you go out to enjoy being in a place and time and, if you’re alert, the images come to you. Then, since you have a camera with you, you record them.
Do you like the region or city you live in? Do you like your home? Do these affect your photography?
I’m originally from Switzerland, but I’ve been living in the San Francisco Bay Area for over 30 years. It’s a great area for any photographer because of the region’s unending variety of scenery, and the magnificent light of Northern California. There’s also a wide range of environments from dense urban to suburban to small town. So yes, as a photographer I feel very privileged to live here.
Has your approach to your work changed in recent months or years? If so, how and why?
Pretty early on I decided the SLR thing of carrying around a lot of lenses wasn’t for me, because I don’t like to carry stuff, and more importantly, it gets in the way of spontaneity. I want to always have with me the best camera available that’s small enough to fit in a pocket or a belt holster, so I can take photos quickly and without drawing attention to myself. There were some wonderful film cameras along those lines, like the Contax T, whose image quality was just as good as the SLRs. However, in the digital world the smaller cameras have smaller sensors than those in bulkier cameras, and that impacts their performance. So, in the early years I had to adjust my choices of subject matter to accommodate cameras that had lower definition and narrower dynamic range (I believe you can make a good photo with absolutely any camera, but only if you work within, and make use of, its limitations). Fortunately, since Panasonic came out with the LX line, there have been better and better “pocket” digital alternatives like Sony’s RX 100 series and the Ricoh GR. That’s enabled me to do things that earlier models couldn’t support, like landscapes or interiors where detail is important, and low light.
Many thanks to Alexis for doing this interview. I’m so appreciative of his thoughtful answers that provide insight into his work. Be sure to check out more of his work on Suburban Bliss, and Flickr.
New Zealand photographer Derek Smith has a keen eye for the everyday world. His colour, light, and composition make his photos memorable documents of a changing world. There is a beautiful simplicity about them that seems to echo the joy of the photographer. Some of his photographs resemble the work of painters like Edward Hopper or Alex Colville. For a more in-depth view of his work, check out this wonderful BBC interview with Derek. Also, you can see more of his work on Flickr.
I asked him eight questions about his work and his current projects.
Tell me a little about yourself. Where are you from, and where do you live now?
I am 60 years old and was born in Newcastle, UK, but have lived in NZ since 1963– originally in Auckland but have travelled and lived extensively around the country since 1988. I married Maclean Barker (another obsessive photographer, luckily) in 1994 and have a son, Oscar, who is now 21. We are now finally settled in a small seaside village, Kakanui, on the east coast of the South Island.
I really enjoy composing pictures and that leaves the content fairly open but because I prefer them to also have a documentary value, I tend to focus on the social landscape. I love colour, light and form and arranging these elements to have aesthetic meaning to me in a rectangular composition. As children, we respond to these elements in a purely primal sense before we identify them as learned objects (tree, house, car, etc.) so I try and retain that simple sensory joy when observing things rather than attaching cultural, social or political meaning to what I observe (all learned rather than sensory.) I believe that everything is natural so I view myself as a nature photographer.
Your social documentary photos of New Zealand are stunning in their lighting, colour, and composition. (They certainly make me want to visit New Zealand.) And you have been at it for thirty years. Have you pretty much covered the entire country?
I am the “fill in guy” for a nationwide meter reading company so I get sent to every corner of the country often for weeks at a time when required. Due to the nature of my job, I have familiarised myself with my country very intimately. It is a relatively young country with a limited degree of diversity but I have gotten to know the different social and physical characteristics of each region really well. This has given me a great opportunity to chat with a huge range of people and photograph the country I love. The pay is crap but thanks to digital I am cheap to run.
Can you tell us about the projects you are working on these days?
Photographically, I am on an ongoing lifetime project that began almost 40 years ago. I carry my camera everywhere and always seem to find something to point it at. I did have a book published a few years ago but the publisher packaged and marketed it more as a Kiwiana collection for the local market. It sold quite well. I would like to self publish a book or two with a more specifically photographic feel but I know that would limit its market, particularly here in NZ. The bookstores here are filled with magnificent landscape works that I don’t feel compelled to add to. The social landscape is the broad theme that I seem to be most attracted to and the passage of time always adds a fresh dimension to the pictures.
You have probably the best day job I’ve ever heard of for the kind of photographs you take: You’re a meter reader. This was a genius move in choosing a job path. What are some elements that you think make a work environment potentially rich for photography?
Yes, I have been very lucky integrating my passion with my work life. Could not have been better, actually. I suspect many other outside jobs would offer similar opportunities but with the nature of work changing radically lately (my job will soon be obsolete), work time being so vigorously monitored, and many manual jobs becoming automated, these opportunities will be far more limited. I would encourage anyone to document their workplace, especially in this era of phenomenal change.
What’s your state of mind when you’re taking good photos? Do you think there’s any connection between your mood or mindset and the results you get?
My mood doesn’t change much, I don’t think there is a great range of emotional content in my work. I am not disturbed or creative enough to be an artist. I am a happy chap with a love for colour and a passion for New Zealand. Some pictures work on an aesthetic level, most miss the mark but at least they may possibly have a documentary function. If others find the pictures enjoyable, that’s great but I generally photograph to please myself and the great thing about photography is that the possibilities are endless. There is that famous saying, not sure who originated it “I photograph to see what things look like, photographed” Always surprising!
Do you find these days that you’re inspired by the same people, places, or events that inspired you in the past? Or has this changed for you over time?
I still do what I have always done because the contemporary social landscape is in a constant state of flux and the light is ever changing so the opportunities are endless. I have found my language. I will revisit certain subject matter and re-photograph it to illustrate the wonderful effects of time. As with much of your wonderful work, the passage of time gives another dimension to the images that can often present a strong social pointer.
One final question: Can you tell me briefly about a couple of photographers I may not be familiar with yet but you would recommend checking out?
There are many photographers that have influenced me. Walker Evans, Eggleston, Shore, Friedlander. All are great renderers of the utterly ordinary. Here in New Zealand, I have huge respect for Bruce Foster, in my opinion our most astute observer, and the wonderful Ans Westra, a national treasure who has documented the lives of Maori in New Zealand since the sixties, Always with her beloved Rollieflex for beautifully candid images. (she now has a permanent Rollieflex stoop!) Well worth a look.
Many thanks to Derek for doing this interview. I’m so appreciative of his thoughtful answers that provide insight into his work. Be sure to check out his BBC interview, and his work on Flickr.
