DRAWING LIFE by fred hatt

2013/03/27

Exploring Together

Still from "Rocks Remember", 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

Still from “Rocks Remember”, 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

I’m interested in the moving body and movement in nature, and I’m always trying to capture the spirit of motion in my drawings, but of course I love actual moving pictures too. I like to make simple, non-narrative films, often working with dancers. A couple of years ago I suggested to my friend, dancer Kristin Hatleberg that if she would like to do some kind of dance film, I’d be up for it. She mentioned a curious landscape she wanted to explore, Ringing Rocks State Park, in Pennsylvania.

Still from "Ringing Rocks", 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

Still from “Ringing Rocks”, 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

Ringing Rocks Park has a large field of boulders that ring like metal bells when struck with a hammer or with another stone. These boulders are called “lithophonic” or “sonorous rocks”. Geologists believe the tones emitted by these stones are the result of “internal elastic stresses”, but the science isn’t settled. It’s a mysterious and enchanting phenomenon.

Still from "Rocks Remember", 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

Still from “Rocks Remember”, 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

So one day Kristin rented a Zipcar and we took a day trip to Bucks County, Pennsylvania. With us were Kristin’s friend Jim Smith, a composer and music producer, and my friend Yuko Takebe, a talented dance filmmaker who’d just gotten a new HD camcorder and was eager to put it to use. I had my camera with me too.

Still from "Ringing Rocks", 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

Still from “Ringing Rocks”, 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

We had almost no plan about how to film at this site, aside from the idea that Jim was going to go around and hammer on the rocks and record sounds, and Kristin was going to dance in the environment, and Yuko and I were going to film Kristin and the landscape. None of us had ever been to Ringing Rocks before, so we didn’t know exactly what we’d encounter. Together we would explore and collect images and sounds, and then we would see what we could make of them. It was a fairly egalitarian collaboration, and the whole process would be a journey without a map.

Still from "Rocks Remember", 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

Still from “Rocks Remember”, 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

There was a large clearing covered with big jagged boulders, a forested area, and a small ravine with a waterfall. It was a late autumn day so our daylight hours would be limited, and the angle of the sun would change quickly through the afternoon.

Still from "Ringing Rocks", 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

Still from “Ringing Rocks”, 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

Dancing on a jumble of sharp and irregular rocks is nothing like dancing in a studio with open space and a nice smooth hardwood floor. In fact, it’s a bit dangerous. I’m not sure if Kristin imagined doing balletic leaps from stone to stone, but when she actually started moving in the boulder field, she found herself hugging the rocks, rolling over them and in and out of the crevices. It looked a little like contact improvisation with very heavy, very hard dance partners.  Kristin took the same grounded, tactile approach to other elements of the landscape as well.

Still from "Rocks Remember", 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

Still from “Rocks Remember”, 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

Since there was no script and almost no plan, we all just sort of went about doing our own explorations in whatever way felt appropriate in the moment. Jim rang the rocks until he got the birds to join in the symphony. Yuko and I looked for aesthetically pleasing compositions and dynamic camera angles. Kristin climbed and stroked and became one with the earth.

Still from "Ringing Rocks", 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

Still from “Ringing Rocks”, 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

We decided that Yuko and I would share all our footage and sound recordings, but each of us would edit our own version of the material. When I started editing, I found it really challenging. It felt like a random collection of shots that just wouldn’t gel. There was no clear beginning, middle, or end, no unifying design, no choreographic continuity. The color and visual quality of the images from the two cameras was way different, and there were lots of technical problems such as sun glare and noisy tourists who were also at the park that day on the sound track. The rapidly changing light meant a shot made at 2:00 would never match with one made at 3:00.

Still from "Rocks Remember", 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

Still from “Rocks Remember”, 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

For my first edit, I decided to use just two parts of our footage, the waterfall scene and the field of boulders. I decided to convert everything to black and white, both to eliminate the color differences between the two cameras and to make Kristin, who was dressed in tones of pink and purple, blend in more with the textures of stone and earth. I pulled out what I thought were the best bits of movement and labeled them according to whether the movement was up or down or rotating or whatever, and then basically assembled those movements into an illusion of continuity. It sort of worked, but it had a monotonous rhythm, and after test-screening it for Kristin and my filmmaker friend David Finkelstein, I ended up making it more fragmented and spare, maybe more about the landscape and less about the dance. For my version of the piece, Jim Smith structured some of the sound recordings from the site into a simple composition.

I think my final version captures something beautiful about experiencing oneself as part of the earth by direct contact with it. Human beings are of the earth just as much as are stones or trees, and we should feel it in our bones and in our skin.

A video piece is something different than the experience by which its source material came to be.  In the end it becomes something in itself, something that is experienced as a moving image, by people who have no knowledge of its making. My struggle to structure this material into a piece helped me to find a new sense of how to assemble moving images, and after editing this piece I found I was finally able to complete several other video pieces I had shot that had lingered unfinished for years.

Still from "Ringing Rocks", 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

Still from “Ringing Rocks”, 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

I don’t know too much about how Yuko approached the task of editing. Her basic impulse is more narrative and less formal than mine, and she has a knack for making good use of “flaws” like camera shake and lens flare. Her version is in color,and I feel it gives more of a sense of Kristin as a person interacting with the landscape, where mine seems more like some kind of elemental ritual.

Still from "Rocks Remember", 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

Still from “Rocks Remember”, 2011, video edited by Yuko Takebe

Here’s what Kristin wrote about the experience:

When Fred asked what I’d like to collaborate on, I thought here’s a rare opportunity to distill a moment. What if every element of this lasting capsule, this film, results completely from its environment? I chose Ringing Rocks State Park because of how literally it could yield all the elements. Our agreement was to focus fully on the park itself, and for me the rocks were a solidity into which I could melt away. I set out to evaporate over them, roll like an ocean wave across their challenging formations. What a metaphorical parallel this act was to dealing with life. I used all my strength to simply be, there.

For me our experience at the Ringing Rocks State Park was a meditative experience, and I think that spills over into the intent of each of the resulting films. It was meditation that arose from necessity, for the sake of harmonious survival. While we were in the park, I was not there to recreate or mimic anything. Instead, my focus was to listen to all the textures. I dove into my senses and I tried to absorb every texture of the place until the most dominant ones seeped back out of me. Because I was approaching it through absorption, I was meditating and accepting. Accepting the jagged contours into my flesh as I rolled over them, softening the harshness of the landscape by joining a wave of air and riding its current over the topography. When each element has its autonomy, it is simpler to find harmony.

All I am doing in my actions is revealing what was revealed to me, simply by being there: there, hanging off the top of that rock upside down; there, perched between three trunks of a tree without a limb on which to sit; there, hearing the beautiful water while feeling the cold, smooth stone slide away from under me. The films that resulted therefore do not give me any answers or pose questions to me. They simply reveal contours, light, textures. Watching them, I can momentarily breathe again a cleaner air.

Still from "Ringing Rocks", 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

Still from “Ringing Rocks”, 2011, video edited by Fred Hatt

Yuko said this about the experience:

I had never known stone that resonates like a bell until Kristin took me to Ringing Rocks Park. The high-pitched tone, but involving the profound sound as hit by a hammer, brought me to feel time immemorial. Kristin danced as if she were swimming, freely and slowly, between big rough rocks. Her movement looked like just a spirit of the rocks to me. The rock has immanent memories since the earth has existed, and its sound tells us the history of our life. The water flows and wind blows on the surface of the rocks. The beautiful golden strings are spun by a spider and gnats are flying between rocks. That moment fulfilled by stillness and serenity only appeared in an early evening glow. I wanted to capture the eternal flow of time and the spiritual harmony between the perpetuity of nature and a mortal life through Kristin’s dance and my lenses.

So now I have told you my story. My collaborators have offered their beautiful perspectives on this joint exploration of the land in movement and film. There is nothing left but for you to watch the two films, first, “Rocks Remember”, Yuko’s edit, and then “Ringing Rocks”, my version.

Rocks Remember from Yuko Takebe on Vimeo.

Ringing Rocks from Fred Hatt on Vimeo.

Both of these films will be projected outdoors as part of the SB-ADaPT Festival of Dance and Physical Theater in Santa Barbara, California, this summer. I’ll add the dates and more info here when I have it. 

2012/11/21

Fluidity

Filed under: Photography: Elemental Forces — Tags: , , , , , — fred @ 23:48

Liquid Topology, 2007, photo by Fred Hatt

Here in the States we’re celebrating Thanksgiving, a time to honor family, food and fellowship, and to contemplate gratitude.  Superstorm Sandy recently reminded those of us who live on America’s Mid-Atlantic coast of the destructive potential of water, but as I think of what I have to be grateful for, I am thinking of the water of life, the cyclical element that falls and flows, permeates and dissolves, irrigates and cleanses, rises and expands.  Water is the blood of the living Earth.  We New Yorkers are lucky to have plenty of rain that keeps our vegetation lush.  We have a great water system with remarkably clean tap water from upstate reservoirs.  In recent decades sewage treatment has made our coastal waters much cleaner than they used to be.  We need to love and protect our precious water!

My most basic artistic motivation is just to revel in the beauty that is all around us, and to share my perceptions with others, “Look, isn’t this amazing?”  I’m sure the sophisticates of the Art World find it as silly as the raptures of the “double rainbow” guy, but this way of looking at the world is not sentimental or delusional.   The world is a complex phenomenon of interacting forces, and the harmonies and tensions that emerge therefrom are myriad.  Aesthetic experience is fundamental to insight in science, philosophy, and the arts.

I’ve made a couple of posts of my photographs of fire (here and here), and one of my commenters, Heart_in_Water, suggested I do a post on water, the dynamic flow that complements fire in the ancient conception of elemental forces.  Herewith, a collection of my water shots.

People are instinctively attracted to water, seek it out and gather in its cooling presence.  Here’s a scene I came upon in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park, looking down from the top of a stream and waterfall.  A painter had set up an easel to make a study of the landscape, and a family took turns posing on the rocks and taking pictures of each other with their phones.  In the background you can see my friend Peter bending over to take off his shoes, compelled to dance in the stream.

Painter and Photographers, Prospect Park, 2011, photo by Fred Hatt

Even water in a city gutter can provide a glimpse of visual magic.  This standing water becomes a gap opening into a looking-glass city beneath the streets.

View of the Undercity, 2001, photo by Fred Hatt

The mirrorlike quality of still water is often used architecturally for this quality of opening up space.  Henry Moore’s monumental abstract bronze at Lincoln Center expands to twice its size in a reflecting pool.

Reclining Figure, 1965 sculpture by Henry Moore at Lincoln Center, 2012 photo by Fred Hatt

Emerald Mirror, Prospect Park, 2011, photo by Fred Hatt

Even still water moves on its surface.  The bronze angel does not move, but the reflected angel quivers in the wind like the leaves of a tree.

Angel of the Turbulent Surface (Angel of the Waters, 1868 sculpture by Emma Stebbins, at Bethesda Fountain, Central Park), 2008 photo by Fred Hatt

Macy’s in a Puddle, 2001, photo by Fred Hatt

Taxi’s Wake, 2005, photo by Fred Hatt

At night, reflected light does its shimmery shimmy on the surface of water.

Gold Under the Bridge, 2009, photo by Fred Hatt

Water on a Tar Roof, 2006, photo by Fred Hatt

The multiple image below shows the computer-controlled dancing water jets at the Brooklyn Museum, created by WET Design.  You can read this set from the bottom up:  the lowest image shows the initial burst of the water jets, the second picture shows them shooting high, and the higher images show the columns of water aloft as gravity begins to pull the droplets apart and back to earth.

Brooklyn Museum Fountain, 2006, photos by Fred Hatt

These fountains, with their unpredictable changing patterns, induce states of calm bliss in some who watch them, and screaming excitement in the children.

Fountain Joy, 2006, photo by Fred Hatt

The city is full of more traditional fountains, all of which celebrate the thrilling movements and sounds of water flying through the air and splashing down on itself.

City Hall Park Fountain, 2005, photo by Fred Hatt

Ring of Rain, Ring of Flowers, 2010, photo by Fred Hatt

Fragmenting Sprays, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

As with fire, the shutter speed makes all the difference in photographing moving water.  A fast shutter speed freezes the water as clusters of individual droplets, while a slower shutter speed allows the movement to blur into streaks.  Sometimes a still photo of water looks like a sinuous sculpture in glass.

Belt of Water, 2005, photo by Fred Hatt

Fountain Dome, 2004, photo by Fred Hatt

Stairway Cascade, 2003, photo by Fred Hatt

Liquid Chandelier, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Dancing Waters, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Moving water has a prismatic quality – literally in the case of rainbows created by light shining through mists of droplets.  (Click this link for a good explanation of rainbows, moonbows, sundogs, and other variations on the phenomenon.)

Rainbow in Falling water, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Water refracts and reflects the light and object colors in its surroundings.  Water reflections weave together the colors of the environment without muddying the hues.

Wet Windshield, 2003, photo by Fred Hatt

Low Sun on the River, 2001, photo by Fred Hatt

The texture of the water’s surface varies according to the movement of the water itself and of the air moving over it.  The surface of rapidly moving water is dense with perturbation, while stiller water warps light in a more rubbery, tremulous fashion.

Rushing Stream, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Rain on Pond, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Fluidity, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

White Splash on Green, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

I’ve never been able to get good photos of the ocean or surf on the beach.  For me, those pictures never quite capture the immensity and power of the breathing sea.  Smaller bodies of water, ponds and streams and fountains and puddles, share with me and my camera a vision of Nature as master painter.

Water’s Edge, 2004, photo by Fred Hatt

Ducks’ Domain, 2010, photo by Fred Hatt

This Summer one of my favorite and often-visited bodies of water, the Prospect Park Lake in Brooklyn, was almost completely overtaken by invasive ferns and algae.  Apparently our extremely mild last winter played a part in this opaque bloom.  Water is vulnerable!

Carpet of Algae, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

We are creatures of the Watery Planet.  Let us celebrate, respect, and protect the water of life.

Reflecting Pool, 2010, photo by Fred Hatt

 

2012/08/07

Forms of Fire

Filed under: Photography: Elemental Forces,Poetry — Tags: , , , , — fred @ 22:05

Dancing Fire Man, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

I recently returned from a week teaching art workshops at the Sirius Rising festival at Brushwood Folklore Center in Chautauqua County, New York.  I’ve been going to festivals at Brushwood since 1999, and it’s one of the special places in my world.  The climactic celebration at every festival is a huge community bonfire.   Here are some pictures from this year’s fire, with a few comments and two poems (written by others).

Circling the Bonfire, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Flames engulf the wood-stack, wriggling and leaping skyward.  This year’s pyre bore a carved blue dragon.  You can see the dragon’s trumpet-like shout and curled horns in the next two shots.  Salts of copper in the dragon color the flames blue and green.

Bonfire Nebula, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Horned Dragon, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

 TO THE GOD OF FIRE AS A HORSE

A hymn from the Rig Veda (1500-1200 BC) in an English version by Robert Kelly

Your eyes do not make mistakes.

Your eyes have the sun’s seeing.

Your thought marches terribly in the night

blazing with light & the fire

breaks from your throat as you whinny in battle.

Blue Ghost, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

This fire was born in a pleasant forest

This fire lives in ecstasy somewhere in the night.

Arising Goddess, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

His march is a dagger of fire

His body is enormous

His mouth opens & closes as he champs on the world

He swings the axe-edge of his tongue

            smelting & refining the raw wood he chops down.

Lady Liberty, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

He gets ready to shoot & fits arrow to bowstring

He hones his light to a fine edge on the steel

He travels through night with rapid & various movements

His thighs are rich with movement.

            He is a bird that settles on a tree.

(from Technicians of the Sacred:  A Range of Poetries from Africa, America, Asia, Europe & Oceania edited with commentaries by Jerome Rothenberg)

Launch, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Gazing into the fire is simultaneously exciting and calming.  The movement is too rapid to fully comprehend, but we know that this energy is within us, in the pulse of our arteries and the impulse of our nerves, the heat of our passions and the controlled combustion that is a life.

Firewatchers, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Firelight and Glowsticks, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Revelers in the Ember Field, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

I try to understand the essence of fiery energy by studying the forms of flame.  Combustion is all movement, so it’s really an abstraction to look at it as a still picture, but my slow draftsman’s brain likes to freeze the motion so I can trace its contours.  Photography is my tool for stopping time.  For the raging flames at the top of this post, a fast shutter speed (a thousandth of a second) shows the turbulence of shredded incandescent gas.  The images below use slow shutter speeds (half a second or more) to trace the movement of glowing embers as they rise through the column of heated air above the flames.

Bonfire Centerpost, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

These scribbles on the sky remind me of the tracings of fermions and bosons recorded in the cloud chamber of a nuclear partical accelerator.  They drift and loop and zag unpredictably.  This is the kind of energy I try to bring to my own drawings.

Incandescent Flux, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Dance of Hephaestos, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

THIS IS THE TIME OF FIRE

a poem by Elaine Maria Upton

There is a time of Water and a time of Wind.
This is the time of Fire, and Fire eats time.
The sands of the desert are uncountable!
Let go of the reckoning! Let go of time!
Let go of rain! Let go of forgiving!

Fountain of Sparks, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Cloud Chamber, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Fire eats rain and Fire eats trees. Fire eats
The leaves of corn. Fire is the grain and the husk
Of corn. Fire is the raging of Water. Fire is the roar,
the hum, the sting of Wind. Fire is the pepper pulsing
from the flower. Fire is the frenzied volcano dancing.
It is the lightning’s blitz, the drumming, the singing,
The beat of tribes, telling their story all night,
Piercing the bottom of dark, birthing the light.

Pyre, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Fire is the Earth exhausted, folding, sleeping
from days and nights of love, til there is no counting.
When flowers bleed, when lions sleep, when angels sigh, oh bleed, oh
sleep, oh sigh then! Oh, burn with mountains!
When leaves flame and fall to the ground,
When grass grows brown then gray, grieve not.
Grieve not, but follow the eagle and follow the grass.

Bottle Brush, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

River of Embers, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Weep not for the Earth. Weep not for the corn.
The Earth is the lover who gives all to love.
The Earth makes a bed of Love and the Sun knows.
The Earth makes a table of Love and the Fire knows.
The Earth feeds Fire. The Earth gives all to Love.
Follow the Earth. Look beyond your eyes as you go!
Follow the Earth to the beat of the Fire!
Open your thighs. Give all to Love!

From the website Poet Seers

Fiery Tresses, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

For more photos of fire, check this earlier post.

2012/07/04

Different Strokes

Porcupine, 1951, woodcut by Leonard Baskin

 

The magic of drawing or printmaking is in the strokes.  By strokes I mean the particular and idiosyncratic quality of the lines or other marks the artist makes.  Some lines jab while others meander.  Some markings are cloudy while others are crisp.  The strokes convey in a tactile way the essence of how the artist comes to grips with the challenge of capturing a thing seen or actualizing an inner vision.  Making a drawing is a journey of exploration, and these markings are the spoor of the trek.  When we look at a drawing, we can feel the energy that went into it in the particular flavor of its lineaments.

In this post I present a goodly selection of mostly monochrome sketches and prints by a wide diversity of masterly mark-makers.  I’ll let the works speak for themselves and leave it to you to contemplate the contrasts among them.  I have generally chosen pieces with a direct, spontaneous quality, avoiding highly finished styles where the quality of line may be more a matter of design than of the energy of the mind and the hand.  I often tried to find unfamiliar examples of the work of well-known artists, and sometimes individual works that are not representative of the artists’ familiar styles.  I think you’ll be particularly surprised by the early De Kooning sketch!

Man Walking in a Field, 1883, conte crayon drawing by Georges Seurat

 

Portrait, title, date and medium unknown, by Paul Cadmus

 

Composition, 1916, medium unknown, by Wassily Kandinsky

 

Edward Scissorhands, 1990, pen and pencil drawing by Tim Burton

 

Autumn, 1970, engraving by Salvador Dalí

 

Self Portrait, 1946, by David Alfaro Siqueiros

 

Musician portrait, date, title, and medium unknown, by Edgar Degas

 

Drawings, 1939, title and medium unknown, by Jackson Pollock

 

Saturn, 1516, engraving(?) by Hans Baldung Grien

 

Resting Woman Wearing Tiara, 1936, pen and ink drawing by Henri Matisse

 

Sketchbook pages, date unknown, drawings by R. Crumb

 

Reproduction Drawing III (after the Leonardo cartoon), 2010, media unknown, by Jenny Saville

 

Self Portrait at the Age of Eighty-Three, 1843, ink brush drawing by Hokusai

 

Untitled, 1981, drawing by Jean-Michel Basquiat

 

Study for the Head of Leda, 1506, ink and chalk drawing by Leonardo da Vinci

 

Gregory Hines, date and medium unknown, sketch by Jules Feiffer

 

Study of the Head of Elizabeth Siddal for “Ophelia”, 1852, medium unknown, by John Everett Millais

 

Femme nue couchée, 1932, charcoal drawing by Pablo Picasso

 

Old Man on a Swing, 1826, medium unknown, by Francisco Goya

 

Untitled, 1950, ink drawing on parchment by Philip Guston

 

Europa, 1953, lithograph by Hans Erni

 

Portrait of the Artist’s Mother, 1514, by Albrecht Dürer

 

Love Forever (TAOW), 2004, marker drawing on canvas by Yayoi Kusama

 

Bird Personage, date and medium unknown, by Remedios Varo

 

Court Room Scene, date and medium unknown, by Honoré Daumier

 

Beekeepers, 1568, etching(?) by Pieter Bruegel the Elder

 

Drawings, dates, titles and media unknown, by Alberto Giacometti

 

Self Portrait, date and medium unknown, by Henry Fuseli

 

Tree with Trunk, 1998, etching by Louise Bourgeois

 

Drawing, 1944, title and medium unknown, by Pavel Tchelitchew

 

Nude Study, 1908, etching by Georges Braque

 

The Sower, 1888, pencil and pen and ink drawing by Vincent van Gogh

 

Portrait of Elaine De Kooning, 1940, pencil drawing by Willem De Kooning

 

Some Can Fly and Some Can’t, 1939, medium unknown, by Rico Lebrun

 

Le Chapeau-Main, 1947, lithograph by Hans Bellmer

 

Sketch for “Apollo Slays Python”, 1850, medium unknown, drawing by Eugène Delacroix

 

Madame Louis-Francois Godinot, 1829, medium unknown, drawing by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, with detail

 

Corps de Dame, 1950, medium unknown, by Jean Dubuffet

 

Cape Lion, 1650, medium unknown, drawing by Rembrandt van Rijn

 

The Man who Taught Blake Painting in his Dreams, 1820, print(?) by William Blake

 

Five Swearing, 1912, oil sketch by Ferdinand Hodler

 

Madame Sohn, 1918, charcoal sketch by Egon Schiele

 

Seated Bodhidharma, 18th century, ink brush drawing by Suio Genro

 

All the images used in this post were found on the web, and clicking on an image will take you to the page where I found it.  Any information about the artwork that is listed as “unknown” is information I was not able to find at the time of making the post.  If you can provide additional or corrected information I will incorporate it.

Readers are invited to nominate some of their favorite drawings for an eventual sequel to this post!

2012/05/25

A Foraging Eye

Filed under: Photography: Framing — Tags: , , , , , — fred @ 19:13

[Before getting to the subject of this post, I’m pleased to announce that my drawing is the subject of a new post by Courtney Jordan on the Artist Daily blog.  Check it out!]

Lean on Wall, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Photography satisfies the ancient human instincts of hunting and gathering.  Armed with specialized gear, photographers go out in search of their particular quarry, chasing after it or lying in wait for it.  At just the right moment, with sure technique and trained reflexes, they shoot and they capture.  Nailing the perfectly-timed shot of an epic sports moment, a stunning nature scene, an indelible image of war’s horror, or a celebrity wardrobe malfunction is like bagging the big game.

I lack the aggressiveness and the single-mindedness it takes to be a great hunter.  I’m more of a forager.  I walk around the city a lot, and I usually carry a camera with me (a dedicated camera, not a phone).  I rarely go looking for specific images; instead, I just go about my normal business and social life, constantly scanning the environment for the kinds of images that feed me.  Usually, that means some combination of natural or cultural phenomena, contrasting forms, and striking effects of light.

I don’t think of myself as a Fine Art Photographer.  I have no concern for reaching a pinnacle of craft or making a bold statement through this work.  It is in my drawing practice that I am serious about constantly challenging myself.  Photography is a more casual pursuit, a way of gathering impressions so I can study and contemplate on them later.  The concern that unifies the drawing practice and the photography practice is an effort to hone and expand visual perception.

Here are some of the fruits I gathered in my photographic foraging in New York City since the beginning of this year, presented in random order.

Sunset Reflection, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Because the nerves of our eyes feel light, we can touch at a distance everything the light touches.  But light does not simply show us where things are and their shapes and sizes.  Light is a mercurial substance that can be knife-sharp or misty, golden or leaden.

Bike Cluster, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Humans like to think of themselves as free and unencumbered like birds, but we are more like corals, building around ourselves great accretions of stuff.

Scraped, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

The constant building and tearing down, refinishing and repurposing, makes hidden layers and then sometimes reveals them, a world of palimpsests and pentimenti.

Broken Mirror, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

The world is a shattered mirror that makes the one thing look like a complicated lot of ragged striving things.

MoMA Garden in Winter, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Organic forms and rectilinear forms go together like a bow-legged woman and a knock-kneed man.

Bench with Rings, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

The rain has cleared this park bench of sitters, the better to reveal its ring-and-spiral ironwork.

Mister Softee, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

A cop on the beat, a man with a baby stroller, a Mister Softee truck, and a steam vent in the street – a Manhattan melody.

A Frames, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Sure, the Brooklyn Bridge is a beautiful piece of engineering, but look at all the geometry some designer put into these simple plastic barrier frames.

November, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Another palimpsest – scraped away layers of advertising on a Subway poster frame.  Is this great abstract painting an accident, or someone’s deliberate creation?

Rust Drips, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Water leaks in around the ironwork, leaving blood-like trickles on a concrete wall.  The roughness of the wall makes the drips scribbly and frizzy.

Orange Blue, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

At just a certain time of the evening, the deep blue of the twilight sky and the golden orange of the sodium-vapor streetlamps balance each other just so, giving magic to the most mundane features of the environment.

Gate Shadows, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

This sidewalk at night is haunted by the shadows of the old cast-iron fences and gates.

Mobile, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Street art is exposed to the chaos of the unsecured environment.  This skull with a cell phone has flyers pasted on its forehead and is joined by a painting inspired by chemical diagrams, orange construction webbing, and some yellow caution tape that says “Screwtape” (a C. S. Lewis reference?), and then the shadows of leaves give the whole thing a mottled camouflage effect.

Wet Horsehead, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Beads of rain bejewel this fiberglass horsey-ride painted in psychedelic colors.

Banana Peel, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

A minimalist found composition in red, green, gray and yellow.

Concave Plywood, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

These warped plywood sheets looming over the sidewalk remind me of Richard Serra’s space-bending steel walls.

Hands to Face, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

This one is definitely a deliberate bit of sabotage collage of a kind often inflicted upon the posters in the Subway stations.  The anonymous cut-and-paster has a certain surrealist flair.

Reflective Row of Cars, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

A row of parked cars has to be the dullest thing in the modern world, but even here that great conjurer light works its enchantment.

Reclining Forms, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

The rectilinear, the organic, and the circular will all lie down together.

Evening Blossoms, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

A bare tree in twilight and a blooming one in warm light, all of it crackling with the life force as it expresses itself in forms.

Night Shadows, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Mixed light sources and the shadows of foliage give the camouflage treatment to this stack of rectangles.

Mural, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

This mural turns a plain street with a windowless wall into an 8-bit video game.

E

Perspective with Lamps, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

The oblique angle and the compressed perspective of a telephoto lens emphasize color shifts across this row of windows and sconces.

Golden Female, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

A womanly figure beckons from a back-lit sign.  The golden glow and the elegant curves beckon grail-like in dim and ragtag surroundings.

Lace Curtain, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

The lights of night are seen behind the homey screen of a lace door curtain.

Embroidery, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

A tree is the earth exploring space and air by reaching and branching into it.

Chainlink Fence, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

At night a fence and a vacant lot full of weeds are a veil of mystery.  Although I used a randomizing program to put these pictures in a thoroughly mixed up order, these last three all suggest lattices that reveal nocturnal space behind them.

Compressed Stairs, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

Looking up a really long flight of stairs sometimes feels like standing at the base of a Mayan pyramid.

Fountain, 2012, photo by Fred Hatt

It’s hard to get the esssence of water in a still photograph, because it is all about how it moves.  Sometimes, though, just the right kind of light and just the right amount of motion blur get the feel of movement in a still image.  Can I get that kind of energy in my drawings?

« Newer PostsOlder Posts »

Powered by WordPress

Theme Tweaker by Unreal