When I founded the Monalog Collective with five other photographers we agreed that an important part of our mission would be to work with or mentor young people interested in black and white analog photography, materials and processes. We had been on the lookout for a good opportunity, and a really great one recently presented itself. At the end of January, we will be having a show at the beautiful gallery located on the Penn State Lehigh Valley campus. In my conversations with Ann Lalik, Gallery Director and Arts Coordinator we discussed her relationship with Nazareth Area High School and the strong photography program they have. Well, all right! Now you’re talking!  I was immediately put in touch with Nicole Stager, Photography and Design Teacher who runs the program. Both Ann and Nicole are highly talented dedicated artists and educators.  Their students are very lucky!

Nicki and I quickly agreed that Monalog members would provide some special classes and demonstrations for her students. So, I have now participated in two events at the high school, assisting other Monalog members and providing a little “color commentary” when appropriate. Other events will take place at the end of this month, December and into the new year, and I hope to teach an ongoing course during the spring. I can’t wait!!!

A couple of amazing things … first how dedicated Nicki is. Second how interested the students are in analog and third, how wonderful the photography space at Nazareth is!  I’m sure Nazareth is not a typical public high school; it has three darkrooms, a bunch of enlargers, camera equipment and a very good stock of supplies. How wonderful is that! More high schools need to do what Nazareth is doing. Darkroom equipment can be had for nothing, or for a song if need be.

It’s amazing just how rewarding and enjoyable an experience this has been and will most certainly continue to be.  I feel very lucky to have this chance and look for to other opportunities for Monalog and myself individually.

When I was a teenager, I didn’t have anyone to help me as I was getting started on my photographic journey. There was no high school program, no Internet. I mainly saw copies of Popular Photography and Modern Photography in the drugstore and finally subscribed to them after I realized I couldn’t retain all the information I wanted by just sneaking around and browsing them in the aisles. No wonder my skills weren’t that great for a while! Even though I had a darkroom in my parent’s basement by the time I was fifteen I didn’t get to take my first photography class until freshman year in college. These kids don’t have to wait that long. And here’s the thing … just a few pointers or constructive critiques can from someone(s) that know a thing or two can make a huge difference in a young person’s learning process and interest in analog photography.

So, what’s the point of all this? I feel privileged to be able to help, mentor and encourage students and am grateful for the opportunity to do so. I certainly wish I had someone(s) that had been there for me!

Is there an opportunity for you to be a mentor? Trust me, you will love it and the satisfaction is immense.

And think about this … the more people that take up black and white analog photography, the greater the chance the materials we all rely will continue to exist!  So how about paying what you know forward. You might just be helping a future Ansel Adams or Henri Cartier-Bresson!

Stay well,

Michael

This past week I was contacted by someone that happened across this very website while doing a search regarding enlargers I had discussed.  After several email exchanges and the discovery that we live on opposite sides of the Atlantic … we decided to meet via Zoom on Sunday … and I am happy we did! As I’ve said before, I am convinced that it’s the personal relationships I make along the way that make things so special, and this experience becomes another part of my photographic life journey that keeps on growing.

Turns out we have a tremendous amount in common, from interest in photographic subjects to the choice of camera equipment and enlargers. Almost two and a half hours after we logged-on it was time to say goodbye, but honestly, I could have spent another two and a half hours talking since I was enjoying myself so much and learning a good bit too. We agreed to exchange more information by email and to get together again soon.

So, how good is that! A real high point of my week! And I see the opportunity for a new friendship, albeit a long distance one.  No matter.  Damn, purchasing the yearly Zoom membership just might be one of the best $139 I’ve spent!

Hey, an hour or so outside of London isn’t that far from Doylestown after all!

Stay safe,

Michael

What is the relationship between the for-profit gallery owner and the exhibitor? It’s a question that’s been bugging me for a while and my conclusion is that for most of us the answer is not much. I’ve had several experiences with gallery owners who’ve exhibited my work where things went from enthusiastic conversations prior to and during the shows, to aloofness or not being interested in talking at all shortly after the shows had come and gone.  It’s all right, as my interest in pushing to exhibit my work has been on the wane for some time, although I’ve been in three shows during the past year and am scheduled to be in several more during 2023. All of these have been with the Monalog Collective, and we are now working on a group project that hopefully will find its way into an institution’s holding and get a show.

Nevertheless, my gallery experiences over the last few years have been somewhat discouraging, if not unexpected. Why? Because, gallery owners are not photographers, and in most cases not artists/creatives at all. They’re business people and their biggest concern is to keep the lights on and make a profit. And that’s fine, but the problem is in the end unless you’re seen as someone that will be a revenue stream, then you’re yesterday’s news. And if they don’t “get” your work then you will never get the time of day to begin with.

So, what does this all mean for me at least?  Well, increasingly I’m becoming more and more convinced that the whole gallery thing isn’t very important anymore, unless of course art is your livelihood and you must exhibit. Look, most gallery owners could care less about you or your art and the likelihood of getting your work on their sacred walls is low.

What do you do then?

Keep making photographs that are meaningful to you and become the best you can be!  Improve your vision and your craft. What else? Get a website up and running and maybe write a blog. How about self-publishing your work? That’s the direction I think I’m eventually going to be headed. But even if I don’t, the older I get and the more I do, I really care more about self-directed projects and just being out there as part of living my photographic life.

The friends I’ve made are not the for-profit gallery owners, but other like-minded photographers, students I’ve taught and those I’ve met along the way when photographing. These are the relationships that truly matter.

Maybe I just haven’t met the right ones, but time is too short and I guess certain things don’t seem as important anymore compared to those that really matter.

Stay safe,

Michael

At the end of my list in a recent entry entitled To Become What We Can Be I wrote “Identifying and removing what is distracting and preventing me from becoming what I can be”. Just so you know I’m not saying that I plan to quit my day job … not yet anyway … and I am not suggesting you do either.

So, what can we do to address what I believe is a major problem we all face from time to time? News flash: 1) While getting that new camera or lens may make things a little more pleasant or even easier, they will not make you become a better photographer; and 2) Obsessing over this is one of the greatest distractions and time wasters there is. Trust me, I know of what I speak!

Here’s what to do. Sit down and think hard about what really is preventing and/or distracting you from becoming what you could be in your photographic life. I’ll bet items 1 and 2 above are major contributors for many of you. Hell, they consumed a lot of my time and money over the years.

So, what about all the underbrush in your life that’s been getting in the way but can be cleared out by simply identifying what it is and dedicating yourself to getting rid of it?

I’m sure it will be different for everyone but do take the time to think about this. Get a pad of paper and start writing things down. The answer may be more complicated than you think and not be as easy to solve as you’d like.  It may also take a little bit of time. After you have jotted down your thoughts let things percolate for a while. Don’t stress it, and be prepared for an epiphany or two if you’re patient!

So. while I can’t figure out what is preventing and distracting you from becoming what you could be I am confident if you commit yourself to identifying the problem(s) and doing all you can within reason to solve it/them you will be well on your way to fulfilling your photographic dreams.

Oh, and one other thing … don’t think too much about when and how to do what I suggest. Just go ahead and do it. It will take a lot less time than scouring the forums and YouTube for true the answer, and cost a lot less money than paying for an expensive workshop to try to discover yourself.

Good luck and stay safe,

Michael

Last week I celebrated my 68^th birthday. Not a major milestone in the cosmic scheme of things but it was important to me for reasons that became more important with each passing year.  It’s hard when you lose your Dad at a young age and it was hard on me because despite my best efforts I was not there at the end. Not being there has always bothered me and even though it wasn’t my fault it will always be a sore point in my life. Dad passed away of prostate cancer when he was 67 and I’ve been biopsied three times, thankfully without any issues. But I have suffered with a nagging fear all these years that I might not get to 68 and make it to the beginning of the rest of my life.

Coincidentally, this past week I also went back home to Buffalo to visit my parents at the cemetery and do some other things, including making some photographs of at the Tops grocery market where a horrible mass shooting occurred earlier this year. I never put my self-imposed birthday milestone and communing with my dad several days apart together. It wasn’t planned and just sort of happened. All of this has made me think about how important Dad (and Mom) were in getting me off to a great start in life and my photographic journey.

Dad took me on my first visit to Delaware Camera Mart and helped me buy my first serious camera (Mom and Dad had previously bought me a Kodak Brownie and an Instamatic), an Argus C-3, and finally a Konica rangefinder.  I still remember what it was like being there. All those wonderful mechanical cameras and lenses in the glass cases, not to mention the mystery of what was in all those boxes on the shelves behind. After that my Dad would take me to camera stores to buy film and to sometimes just to just hang out and look around. I miss those times.  Most camera stores aren’t what they were all those years ago, but whenever I’m in one I check to see if there are any used film cameras to look at.

I remember when I asked Dad if it was all right to build a makeshift darkroom in our basement when I was fifteen. Both he and my Mom thought it was a fine idea and I was soon off to the races. Equipped first with a rickety second-hand Omega B-22, and then and old Omega D2V, it served me well through college until I went off to grad school and marriage.

I miss my Dad and all we could have shared together if the doctors knew then what they know now. Sometimes it takes a while to realize just how important someone in your life is, and even when you do it sometimes takes even longer to understand the full extent of that importance.  Dad thought I should be a writer and it turns out I’ve done a fair bit of writing during my career, not to mention a little blog entry every week for nearly the last seven years.  Great parents can make all the difference in your life and I was lucky enough to have two of them! I appreciate what my dad did for me, and how much he believed in me. Like a lot of things though, I didn’t recognize the fullness of it until much later.

Thanks, Dad, for everything. I’ve had a great life and now I’ve made it to the beginning of the rest of my life. I’m sure you knew I would!

Stay well,

Michael

Last week my wife and I sat in Yom Kippur services for the first time in three years due to the pandemic. During that time, we like many others were restricted to live streaming and now it was good to be back. There were many things that struck me, but thinking back upon it there was a particular verse in one of the most important prayers that asked for forgiveness for not becoming what we could be.

I’ve thought about that quite a bit; it’s that important. In a broader sense we could ponder the thought with respect to the entirety of our lives and we should, but for now I would like to talk about the portion of our lives we spend or should spend on the art and craft of our photography. Are we doing all we can to become what we can be?

I know there is much more I can and should be doing to become better. Why? Because it is important to me and my life!  And when it really comes down to it, other than my family, there is nothing I love more.  The problem is that things get in the way that are not really important at all, or I decide to do something else that is easier or a waste of precious time. While I’m fortunate to work for myself and my time is more flexible than most others I know, my non-working time is precious and there are important competing requirements for it beyond my dear wife and family.

So, what can I do to become what I can be in my photographic life? First of all, use my available time better to become better, be it in the field or in the darkroom. That means taking a long look at what free time I have available and become determined not to waste it. But what else can I do to become what I can be? Be ever mindful that I will never be like all the greats I admire so much, and that I should never want to. Instead, I should strive to become the best of what I can be as me. Why? Because me is who I am!

What else? I need to reaffirm my love for what I get out of photography beyond the act of making the photograph itself. There is so much more. It’s the entire experience … the journey itself.  Even if you don’t get any keepers when you’re out there, or don’t even make a single exposure. Finally, there is the aspect of Living a Photographic Life and all that entails for me. I’ve written about this many times before, about maintaining the important personal relationships we make during the course of our photographic lives, as well as all the many other things we can should be doing to keep our heads in the game and keep learning, even when not in the field or darkroom. To me this is just as important as the making of photographs and we must not squander the time we have been given to do this. So, moving forward, some of things I will be doing more of include:

1. Carefully examining my proof sheets and making prints of only the best images.
2. Going through my old proof sheets and making images of keepers I somehow missed.
3. Reading books about photographers.
4. Studying monographs I own.
5. Learning about photographers I’m not familiar with and obtaing their monographs.
6. Utilizing the Internet for good ideas.
7. Visiting museums and galleries in person and online for photographic and other art exhibits.
8. Identifying and removing what is distracting and preventing me from becoming what I can be.

I intend to keep trying to learn, be productive and to continue living a photographic life. I also intend to do my best to do whatever it takes to keep my photographic spark alive and not to squander the opportunity I’ve been given! In short, I going to rededicate myself to do everything I can to become what I can be.

I hope you will think about doing everything you can do become what you can be in your photography and photographic life!

Stay safe,

Michael

Unbelievable …two train rides up to New York for two landmark photography shows in two weeks!!  Is this the good life or what!  This type of opportunity doesn’t come up that often, but when it does you have to jump on it, otherwise you’ll cry later. And next week is the annual Zombie Walk in Asbury Park that I will photograph again. Damn!

I was a little on the fence about talking the time off to go back to New York so soon when I heard about the Arbus show called Cataclysm – The 1972 Diane Arbus Retrospective Revisited. I had the well-known Aperture monograph derived from the original blockbuster show and to be honest it wasn’t in my power rotation. Nevertheless, something inside me said go. There might not be another chance in my lifetime to see what this promised to be – a complete reproduction of the MoMA show organized by John Szarkowski fifty years ago – down the exact number of prints show – 113! And if the recent Klein show taught me anything, it’s that sometimes standing in front of the real thing can be an experience you simply can’t be prepared for that can have a dramatic impact on your photographic thinking and seeing.

The show is on view until October 22nd at The David Zwirner Gallery at 537 West 20th Street, conveniently about 15 minutes of brisk walking from Penn Station. I need to take a moment here to mention that the West 20^th Street location (he has more than one gallery in New York and others in London, Paris, and Hong Kong), may be one of the most impressive private galleries I’ve ever been in … more like a museum than a gallery. Very large with a number of rooms on two floors.  This allowed the photos to be given ample space between each other to breath.  The black and white images were beautifully seen and printed, framed in simple white metal and hung on matching white painted walls. Simply exquisite.

So, what about those prints? Fifty years ago, these pictures turned the photographic world upside down; they mostly depict people viewed by the mainstream as different or in other ways odd. Transvestites, nudists, stripers, dwarfs, giants, tattooed, twins, triplets, socially awkward teenage Viet Nam War supporters, children with downs syndrome, aging women trying to hang on to what was and people hiding behind costumes and masks. Most of the pictures were what I think of as environmental portraits, as well as some very compelling close-ups made with both 35mm and medium format twin lens reflex cameras. Two pictures, though not next two each other seem to form a compelling pair. A head and shoulders portrait of a newborn and the same type of photo of an aging socialite … what once was and what now had become?

All the famous images are there, and yes that picture of the little boy holding the plastic hand grenade and glaring at the camera is still frightening – all the more in person! In short, the show is as fresh and important today as it was fifty years ago.

If you’re nearby or even not you need to see it!

Stay safe,

Michael