I try to walk every day I can for four miles or so.  Probably the best thing I do as I think an awful lot during the hour I’m out there without the cell or other distractions. One of the things I thought about was an excursion to Riegelsville, one of the small towns in Bucks County along the Delaware River.  I hope to do a long-term project that looks at the towns that dot the shoreline of the Delaware River here in Bucks County and those across the many tiny bridges that cross over onto the New Jersey side.  While walking around town on a somewhat cold and increasingly dreary day this last fall, I a saw a sign for a guitar maker with an arrow pointing down the street. That’s like dangling a Bocce pizza from Buffalo (check it out … the best in the world in my humble opinion) under my nose!

Walked into the quaint shop and met the luthier who makes the beautiful stringed instruments. After chatting for a while about the electric and acoustic guitars he builds along with music, being an audiophile and the resurgence of vinyl I asked if I could make a few photographs of him. No problem, so I did!  All and all a pretty good time!  I’ve talked about this before, but one of the things I really enjoy about photography is the people you meet along the way and perhaps get to know.  I think its part of the journey and can be as rewarding as the pictures you create. Sometimes you come up dry, but when you have these experiences it’s time well spent.  That may turn out to be the case for that outing, as I’ve yet to make a print of a particular negative I am still ruminating over.

After I left the guitar shop I saw a woman standing on her front porch …  said hello and asked if I could make a photograph.  The response was “a picture of me smoking a cigarette … no thanks”. Some would have made the picture anyway. I didn’t and think that is the way it should be.

So one great encounter and one only so-so. That doesn’t discourage me at all. Because at least with one I had a wonderful time, learned something … and may end up yet having a photograph worth printing in the bargain.

I’m no expert on paintings and those who have painted them, but I love to go to exhibits.  I’m lucky enough to live a few minutes away from the Michener Museum of Art here in Doylestown and I go there often.  I also have an easy drive to the Philadelphia Museum of Art and have become a frequent visitor.  The reason for all the visits to these wonderful institutions and others to view the work of great painters is simple … as a photographer, I can learn a lot about light and composition from viewing great paintings.

The membership flyer I received in the mail stated “From jazz and the jitterbug to assembly lines and skylines: the early twentieth century was a time of great social, artistic, and technological change. Artists responded with a revolutionary language of shapes and colors. See how Georgia O’Keeffe, Marsden Hartley, Jacob Lawrence, and others challenged convention and forged bold new styles to fit the times.”

As you can imagine I got pretty excited! So the first chance I could get I hopped into my car and zipped downtown to the Philadelphia Museum of Art to see the exhibit Modern Times: American Art 1910 – 1950.  Turned out to be on Friday … a great day to decide art is more important than making a living.  As I walked out of the museum several hours later I realized I had experienced so much more than I could have ever expected!

Many of the greats from this wonderful period of American art were on display. In addition to those mentioned above there were works by Man Ray, Charles Sheeler, Andrew Wyeth, Marcel Duchamp and John Marin to name a few. But there was more; so much more!  The show included 166 paintings, sculptures, design objects, items of clothing, and photographs. That’s right, photographs, and all of them in glorious black and white!  Yes, I know the period for the show was 1910 – 1950, but throw me a bone … OK?

Truly a great surprise!  What wasn’t surprising was how well the smaller photographs (the largest was no more than 11 x14) held their own alongside the large brilliantly colored and vibrant paintings … and how well they proudly took their rightful place as “art” along side the other works on display.

Back to the painters, a couple of things they had to say struck a cord with me and related well tothe best of the paintings … and the wonderful photographs in the show.  From Georgia O’Keeffe: “Nothing is less real than realism. Details are confusing. It is why by selection, by elimination, by emphasis, that we get the real meaning of things”.  And this from Andrew Wyeth describing his paintingCooling Shed: “I was thrilled to find such abstraction in the everyday”.

Think about how these two important statements can impact our own photography. Drilling down to the essence of the subject to make the image as strong as possible.  Looking deep into what we normally pass by everyday to discover surprisingly strong images.

The photographs contained in the exhibit would have made a great show by themselves.  But here with the paintings a nice synergy was created between the two art forms. Some of the highlights included the incredibly important Wall Street, New Yorkby Paul Strand. Then there were a number of Alfred Stieglitz’s wonderful Equivalents, jewel-like in their small size.  Edward Weston’s Bed Panwas exquisite in its simplicity. Berenice Abbott’s New York at Night captured the black and white abstract beauty of high-rise buildings aglow at night. Man Ray’s George Biddle Painting a Portrait of Man Raywas a fascinating self-portrait that included Biddle painting his canvas with Man Ray’s likeness on it and the subject (Man Ray) sitting next to him!  A small photograph by Dorothy Norman called Alfred Stieglitz at an American Place, New Yorkwas a marvelous picture of the man at work. Finally, there were other beauties including urban landscapes and portraits by Weston, as well as some wonderful portraits by Arnold Newman.

I left the exhibit thinking how lucky I was to see these fine photographs together with so many wonderful paintings and other pieces of art … and how lucky to learn from all that I saw.

Modern Times: American Art 1910 – 1950 continues through September 3^rd.  If you are near Philadelphia or plan to visit the city during the next several months do make a stop at the Museum of Art. I’m pretty certain you will be happy you did!

I know … have I turned into a hypocrite or what? I’ve discussed GAS and my previous bouts with it before. And I have talked about problems associated with too many choices. In fact I have done much over the past few years to simplify my gear, but I now have a project idea I am interested in that involves some urban landscape, including murals.

I think you can always try to make a good picture with whatever lens you have, especially if you are using a 50mm or 35mm or their equivalents for larger formats. The question is whether there are specific pictures that just cannot be made without the requisite lens? The worst thing you can do is to settle. Not having the right tool for the intended job. The problem I have is that I use Leica gear and it’s … well … somewhat expensive. Even Leica R lenses designed for SLR use can be pricy, although generally much less so then their M mount counterparts. This is due in large part because Leica’s R line of cameras just doesn’t get the love that is heaped onto M rangefinders. And of course the R is an extinct species. That having been said there are some really expensive R lenses … some of which I am fortunate to own. I lucked into them for some really great prices, so I happen to have them. But those opportunities come along only so often. Just walking in to right place at the right time. Same thing happened to me recently when I snagged a pair of rebuilt Quad 57s for a song … sorry, wrong passion!

So in this case, rather than wait around for an unlikely opportunity to materialize, I decided that I would search for low cost (by Leica standards), lightweight, quality 28mm and 180mm focal length lenses to use with Frank, my modified Leica SL (see my earlier posting on the FrankenLeica project). My research led me to the so-called Version 1 28mm Elmarit R and the 180mm f/4.0 Elmar. The game plan was to try to find late serial number examples that would presumably have Leica’s latest lens coatings of the time. I was lucky to snag two late copies. One I found in Germany, the other in Italy, both in mint condition.

Like any Leica lens it’s about the glass, but also the incredible build quality and pleasure of use. So have I lost it and succumbed to the Leica siren song and a sneak GAS attack? I don’t think so.

The new additions haven’t seen any action yet and don’t always travel with me, but I hope their time is coming soon. That would mean my plan succeeded and the project idea turned out to be a good one. If not, all the Leica mystic, tactile pleasure, and precision work of art won’t matter. They will be sold to someone that hopefully will use them as they deserve!

Awhile back I did a write-up on Robert Frank’s seminal book The Americans. You can take a look at it On My Bookshelf. I discussed why the book was such a landmark and how it belonged in every photographic library. Haven’t changed my mind on that!

Anyway, the other day I happened to be on the Internet and stumbled across a quote I hadn’t seen before.

“Black and white are the colors of photography. To me they symbolize the alternatives of hope and despair to which mankind is forever subjected.” – Robert Frank

Just think about that for a moment. You could say that’s a pretty “black and white” kind of description of photographic reality! But the fact of the matter is that there is something very real in the translation of a scene and whatever it happens to contain into a black and white photograph – especially if it has been made with film and printed on an emulsive paper. That’s my opinion and all the recent (and past) shows I’ve seen have done nothing to dissuade me from that thinking. Believe it or not, when I was a teenager I tried my hand at color for an entire summer. Shot Kodachrome 25 and Agfachrome. I even bought a second hand Agnecolor processer and made some Cibachrome prints in the tiny darkroom I built in my parent’s basement. The thrill wore off pretty fast though as the results reminded me of post cards.

I really have tried to improve myself over the years and be more open minded, but I still pretty much feel the same way. Extra large color prints really don’t help me either.

Some of the most beautiful photographs I have ever seen were 4×5 contact prints of portraits made by Minor White. And all I have to do is look at a few of the many great books I own … Henri Cartier Bresson, Ragnar Axelsson, Aaron Siskind, Paul Strand, Ansel Adams, William Clift, Manual Alvarez Bravo, Edward Weston, Brett Weston, Lee Freidlander, Ralph Gibson, Andre Kertesz, Morley Baer, Harry Callahan, Pennti Sammallahti, Paul Caponigro … and yes, Robert Frank.

The other day I went out and shot a roll of Tri-X. It felt really good as it always does. I’m looking forward to developing it and the other two rolls patiently sitting on my enlarger baseboard. Hopefully they will serve up a keeper or two and I will have the opportunity to print something special.