A nature’s own mass grave emerges in bright daylight.
This is located at an abandoned fish factory where Menhaden was once processed. The gulls have figured out that if you drop the whelks on the concrete there’s an easy meal to be had.
I love what the back story (your reply to Hans) does for my enjoyment of the photo. You might prefer it to stand on its own and it does, but for me, it’s even more interesting knowing about the gulls and the old fish factory. 🙂
You’ve raised an interesting point with your comment: what one knows about a photograph by just looking at it, and how that can change with background information provided by the photographer (or someone else). For whatever it’s worth, a typical monograph doesn’t come with an explanation under each image. Although there’s often an introduction to those books. I wonder how we’d react to someone like Garry Winogrand’s work had he explained what he was looking at and why he shot it?
I’m actually not sure what I think of this… definitely worth pondering though!
I’m reading a book called Ray K. Metzker: Landscapes now that I think would be considered a monograph. There’s a long essay about him and his work that includes plenty of quotes. I understand the value of looking at photographs without any descriptive information, certainly, but reading about what was going on in someone’s life and/or mind when they were making work enriches it for me. Explanations can really detract from the work’s impact, too. With Winograd it seems that information would lessen the impact from the spontaneous quality of the photographs. Well, there are lots of ways to think about it! 🙂
(A related subject is the need - at least sometimes – to disentangle one’s own memories of the moment one made a photo from one’s perception of it, at least if the idea is to show it to other people. Sometimes there’s so much nostalgia or emotional charge in certain images of vacation places or people, for example, that it’s hard to imagine how someone without that experience might read the image).
All very interesting!
With respect to the shell picture above, I was aiming for a treatment that might transform a mundane picture of shells into something a little different. The fact that gulls dropped them there didn’t seem relevant enough to write about, although it certainly did seem relevant to Hans’ unusual comment.
The point I was trying to make about monographs is that the introductions (generally not written by the photographer) are separate from the content. The experience of looking at the pictures is somewhat analogous to walking through a gallery. The pictures are taken in, typically, without the distraction of background information. I understand that many blogs are focused on discussion, so that does make this a different situation, but as you know, that doesn’t apply to everyone.
My favorite monographs were the ones published by Aperture. I loved the lack of clutter and the gray covers.
You succeeded with that bright light, it does transform the pile into something more. Hans often has interesting things to say! (It’s thanks to his presence here that I’m getting to know him and enjoying following him). I get what you’re saying about the origin of the shells not being relevant to what you were doing.
I see what you’re saying about monographs and gallery shows, too, and even thinking about the book I mentioned, I’m glad there isn’t commentary with the photos. It’s all in the back so you can just progress through the images and take them in, like in a gallery.
Yeah, blogs are all so different. And if I didn’t say so before, the look of this one is beautiful – the large, clean space in an easy-on-the-eyes shade of gray immediately allows me to relax and focus on the image. The font goes well with the layout & color scheme, too. It does have the spacious, uncluttered feeling of walking through a gallery.
Your thoughts about the new look here: thanks so much for saying that, Lynn. Thumbs up for the rest of your comment as well.
JOHN TODARO 
A nature’s own mass grave emerges in bright daylight.
This is located at an abandoned fish factory where Menhaden was once processed. The gulls have figured out that if you drop the whelks on the concrete there’s an easy meal to be had.
I love what the back story (your reply to Hans) does for my enjoyment of the photo. You might prefer it to stand on its own and it does, but for me, it’s even more interesting knowing about the gulls and the old fish factory. 🙂
You’ve raised an interesting point with your comment: what one knows about a photograph by just looking at it, and how that can change with background information provided by the photographer (or someone else). For whatever it’s worth, a typical monograph doesn’t come with an explanation under each image. Although there’s often an introduction to those books. I wonder how we’d react to someone like Garry Winogrand’s work had he explained what he was looking at and why he shot it?
I’m actually not sure what I think of this… definitely worth pondering though!
I’m reading a book called Ray K. Metzker: Landscapes now that I think would be considered a monograph. There’s a long essay about him and his work that includes plenty of quotes. I understand the value of looking at photographs without any descriptive information, certainly, but reading about what was going on in someone’s life and/or mind when they were making work enriches it for me. Explanations can really detract from the work’s impact, too. With Winograd it seems that information would lessen the impact from the spontaneous quality of the photographs. Well, there are lots of ways to think about it! 🙂
(A related subject is the need - at least sometimes – to disentangle one’s own memories of the moment one made a photo from one’s perception of it, at least if the idea is to show it to other people. Sometimes there’s so much nostalgia or emotional charge in certain images of vacation places or people, for example, that it’s hard to imagine how someone without that experience might read the image).
All very interesting!
With respect to the shell picture above, I was aiming for a treatment that might transform a mundane picture of shells into something a little different. The fact that gulls dropped them there didn’t seem relevant enough to write about, although it certainly did seem relevant to Hans’ unusual comment.
The point I was trying to make about monographs is that the introductions (generally not written by the photographer) are separate from the content. The experience of looking at the pictures is somewhat analogous to walking through a gallery. The pictures are taken in, typically, without the distraction of background information. I understand that many blogs are focused on discussion, so that does make this a different situation, but as you know, that doesn’t apply to everyone.
My favorite monographs were the ones published by Aperture. I loved the lack of clutter and the gray covers.
You succeeded with that bright light, it does transform the pile into something more. Hans often has interesting things to say! (It’s thanks to his presence here that I’m getting to know him and enjoying following him). I get what you’re saying about the origin of the shells not being relevant to what you were doing.
I see what you’re saying about monographs and gallery shows, too, and even thinking about the book I mentioned, I’m glad there isn’t commentary with the photos. It’s all in the back so you can just progress through the images and take them in, like in a gallery.
Yeah, blogs are all so different. And if I didn’t say so before, the look of this one is beautiful – the large, clean space in an easy-on-the-eyes shade of gray immediately allows me to relax and focus on the image. The font goes well with the layout & color scheme, too. It does have the spacious, uncluttered feeling of walking through a gallery.
Your thoughts about the new look here: thanks so much for saying that, Lynn. Thumbs up for the rest of your comment as well.