Finally, finally the air suggests Spring’s arrival.
The beginning of this year was hard for no one particular reason. The grey, the cold, the spending nearly a month in Los Angeles (a place that fundamentally operates in opposition of all I have come to love and value here in Paris), not having much work, and the departing friends who’s visits brightened the winter. If I were to blame one thing it would be the lack of work. I derive a lot (maybe too much) validation from completing a photoshoot for a client, from exceeding expectation, from making something they can really cherish.
So I’ve been strolling with my older Nikon D810. I’ve put it on Monochrome shooting mode. Looking at shapes and texture and values only. Black and white. Composition. Going back to basics, trying not to get down on myself for not innovating, for not pushing the boundaries of my craft, for not shouting “look at me, I’m different.” But there is something comforting about cradling the foundation of an art form in your arms and embracing its primordial essence. Observe life, capture light, create an image that tells a story, an image that, if you’re lucky and quick enough, might even make someone feel something.
I visited the Henri Cartier-Bresson Foundation the other day. Paul Strand was on display for a special expo of his work. So was Helen Levitt, someone who’s work I was unaware of until seeing it at the foundation. It was reassuring seeing all of their black and white street and travel observations there on the walls of the HCB Foundation being revered and used as examples of important imagery in the history of photography. If I am being honest, that is what has always interested me the most in the pursuit of living a photographic life; to make images that might say something interesting enough about now, so they might be valued later.
Back to Basics
I love the subtle indications of era and season in these seemingly timeless shots.
These are beautiful. The quality of your black and white shows how much you appreciate a high level of technical perfection. And your words remind me of something I learned and passed on, "...boredom forces you to become creative.....".