At the end of last month, June, I travelled from dry, hot, dusty, and sunny New Mexico to the moist an green land of the Olympic Peninsula north of Seattle, Washington to join a select group of photographers around a table to talk. We were there to explore the place that art – and photography in particular – has in our lives. I was also there to hydrate.
I’ve allowed myself some time to let this meeting and the ensuing conversations, relationships, and new awarenesses sink in to my psyche. I may not be yet giving my experience enough time to percolate, but I feel some need to reflect on my experience in an effort to make some sense of it all. More may come – more will come, I’m sure – for this is the kind of conversational exploration that alters artist’s direction and by its very nature challenges me to look at what I am doing photographically and artistically in a much deeper way. Story of my life, I am told.
The focus of the conversation was “Raising Your Voice”. As I understand it, the conversation was to focus on how, once our artistic vision is identified (as best we can), do we say what we have to say in the best possible way? We had many conversations discussing the difference between vision and voice, we examined others’ submissions of images, we had our own images examined and commented on, we undertook a photographic exercise (just one!) exploring our vision, we ate, drank, joked, laughed, asked questions, challenged beliefs, even argued at times. We also were visited by professional artists who shared their thoughts, reviewed our images, shared their stories, and encouraged us to go into the fog.
That is the narrative of what happened. If you were to choose to attend one of these in the future, I could safely say you would experience these activities as well. But what might actually happen inside of you will be something altogether different and I cannot describe that. I can only attempt to impart to you a bit of what I have discovered, what I have been challenged with, through this process.
I’ll tell you the sequence of events that have brought me to this reflection point so you can have a context for understanding the crossroad at which I now stand.
The first occurred as I was selecting 10-12 images for submission and review at ART. We were asked to provide images that depicted our vision as we currently knew it. Well, I couldn’t say I had a photographic vision. I knew what I was interested in, but a photographic vision? Well, to be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted one. That just sounded all too serious for something serving me as a hobby. But I forged on and was surprised to discover a theme to my body of work, especially to those images that stood out for me. So, in doing the submission, in the act of reviewing my body of work so far, I discovered I was photographing something! Who knew?
The second occurred during a visit to the round table by author and poet Kathryn Hunt. She shared with us her journey through the world of images as well as words and when she mentioned the realm the artist inhabits as the artist explores, questions, and attempts to make meaning or, failing that, some understanding. “An artist stands at the edge of the darkness and peers into its depth”, I think I remember her saying. I can’t be sure, but that is what stuck with me. When we do what is true to us as artists it is as if we stand naked in front of the mirror and look at ourselves without the benefit of our usual defenses. I know this feeling. It arises for many of my clients in my psychotherapy practice; it arises for me as I counsel them. I hadn’t thought it would arise for me in this way in photography. Well, here it is.
The third began simply enough. “Have checked out David Allan Harvey’s books yet?” someone asked me. I had looked at his latest, but not the other book available: “Divided Soul”. Frankly, I didn’t have that much interest in it. Up to that point Harvey’s photographs had been difficult for me to understand. I just didn’t “get” him. But I gave it a go. Have you ever been completely absorbed in a book where the rest of the world disappears, or you wished it did? Well that is the vortex into which I was sucked. Harvey’s book spoke straight to my (pardon the cliché) soul. I think it was how open I was to influence at the moment, or maybe it was the way in which I was being introspective, but I got what the book was about and went in deep. Then someone slid me Larry Towell’s “The Mennonites”. Same effect.
It was then I think I got it.
I am a firm believer of the unconscious mind. Carl Jung, the notable Psychiatrist and former student of Sigmund Freud, often explored and spoke of the unconscious mind as well as the collective unconscious. I am not the least surprised when aspects of my personality and my upbringing make their way, without any conscious effort from me, into my images. The challenge arises when one is made aware of these themes, these influences, these metaphors. It is not just a question of what we make of them but rather “what do we do now?!?” As we look deeply into the core of who we are, of what matters to us deeply, we are naturally challenged to live with some integrity with that core world view, with that core belief. Or not.
But we now choose knowingly, like Neo choosing to take the pill in the Matrix, there is no going back. We look down the rabbit hole and we either jump in or we do not. But we know either way.
So currently I peer into the fog, into the darkness. I am somewhat aware of what awaits me there. It is the stuff lives are made of; it is the stuff art is made of.
This is the precipice that the Artist Round Table can bring you to. Are you ready to make the art that is truly yours to make? Are you ready to dedicate yourself to something that is so true that many might not be able or willing to join you in? Are you willing to discard all measure of notoriety to make something that is so true to your experience?
That is a tough question. That deserves some thought, some consideration.
And that is where I now stand. Do I want to keep making some pretty images, some cool photos, or do I want to explore something deeper, more meaningful, more true to me?
So I hope that you forgive me as I pause to determine if craft is more important to me than a vision that might transcend photography for this photographer.
More to come, of this I am certain. Ray Ketcham, the Artist Round Table leader, promised me some sleepless nights; I owe him one!
