“Every photographer in all of history was a horrible photographer for some period of time. They learned, they grew, they had dark days, they persevered — that is the way of the artist.” -Zack Arias

Arias drives the mood swings of the creative process straight home in this narrative video. Spend some time contemplating his words. Via APAD & Click.

There’s a certain essence of raw finesse in Rebecca Rijsdijk’s collection, Plant People, on display at I Heart Photograph and her website portfolio. It seems in an industry deluged with heavy post-production and complex setups, Rebecca’s photographs have a staggeringly simple attention to form, content, and lighting. Her collection concept “my branches are not what they used to be” has a strong, symbolic, and personal feel represented in the images of intertwined humanity and nature. It seems as if Rebecca peeled away the layers of complexity and broke it down into the simplest denominator. It gives a certain child-like joy to browse these photographs. They may not speak to everyone directly, but they encapsulate that simple art of photographic study that we all practice. Imagine a shoot with no predetermined concepts, no meetings, no art direction, no editors — just you, your subject, your concept, your camera, and your lust to make tangible an idea that sprang forth from the creative well — that’s what I see analyzing this collection. If it’s the beauty and sophistication of simple photography that allures you, then check out more of Rebecca’s work on her website, and be sure to take an extra long contemplative work at her other collection, stiletto paradoxes.

Rebecca Rijsdijk’s Plant People, photographs copyright Rebecca Rijsdijk, used with permission.

A birthday, at 29, nearing the confluence of 30 and several steps away from mid-twenties, gives pause and helps remind us that this year always let and leave our lives in bloom. Wear a fedora of inclination, cultivate inhibition only when it deems necessary, tend to a clear definition between essentials and desires, and concentrate on those adoring heavenly and earthly loves who are the obelisks of our lives. Let them lay rose petals before our feet so as to soften the rocky path, and follow the guiding light God provides. Faith does not always follow the path most visible, as often it shrouds itself in misty uncertainty, but as absolute is a resolved equation, so shall the end of the path be as clear as an endless horizon.

Florida “expatriate” Danny Ghitis came back into view following an earlier link via Click. Having the pleasure of watching Danny grow as a photojournalist, his latest work from the beach in Ft. Lauderdale during spring break doesn’t disappoint. The collection is colorful, witty, and a little enigmatic.  The compositions range from disconnected to intimate, showing a sense of familiarity with an influence of exploration. It appears from a viewer’s perspective that Danny’s time away from home has influenced his photographic style and his perception of “the forbidden city.”  Take a look.

I hadn’t planned on shooting spring break when I visited home in the suburbs of Ft. Lauderdale. But after a long first winter in New York it seemed necessary to go to the beach.   The city I grew up in turns out to be pretty strange, with its amalgam of wealthy tourist zone and college party legend. Growing up I knew it was a weird place, but since I didn’t have a camera- I didn’t start shooting until late in college- or the ability to appreciate the wonders of the adult world, it was hard to express… Seeing it now as a sort of Florida expatriate makes the culture, and my past, jump out at me. So I suppose these pictures aren’t just about Ft. Lauderdale beach but also about my relationship to the forbidden city.

Fort Lauderdale during spring break, photography used by permission and copyright Danny Ghitis.

There is a certain raw staccato rhythm to photographer Peter McCollough’s new blog, Seven Ways to Sunday.  The writing is unmolested, as if thoughts were arriving from connecting links directly from his mind. The photography collaborates with the words, as if they nourish each other through a form of mutual and exclusive dialogue. Tim Gruber, who kindly made mention of Peter’s blog a short while ago, could not have said it any wiser. This type of honest and open writing, if scattered into the wild, would agreeably make our communities that much richer. Here’s a recent quote from his latest post:

All the people become faceless in memory… reduced to an emotional or visual topography that you navigated for X hours; I walked here, I waited there, I squirmed this way for this photo of whomever. I probably took a picture of the War Rabbit and a child that ran in the paper the next day that made someone happy or embarrassed. Maybe his long lost father saw it and was ashamed. Maybe the kids at school ridiculed him. Maybe this child was staring at me as I worked and a few minutes later they cut their finger and will forever associate the two until we meet again. Maybe at a gas station in North Dakota and maybe they will hate me and they won’t be able to figure out how so. I do hope.

I do hope as well.

Top: Sophia’s Hill for Friday the 13th, photograph copyright Peter McCollough, used with permission.

Chris Bentley
Rona Chang
Daniel Farnum
Elizabeth Fleming
Lee Gainer
Matthew Genitempo
Inka Lindergård & Niclas Holmström
Natascha Libbert
Bradley Peters
Carlo Van De Roer
Daniel Shea
Manuel Vazquez
Jens Windolf
Susan Worsham
Bahar Yurukoglu

While you’re there take a look at the work of Mike Osborne from his work in China and Taiwan. I love the empirical and painterly quality of his images. Plus, a prize for the first person who finds the image on his website made in my hometown. Email me at senditmyway[at]eriklunsford[dot]com when you find it.

Beijing 2007, photograph copyright Mike Osborne

Fake fart, Jasper, Indiana, photo copyright Brian Lehmann

I love this picture by photographer Brian Lehmann. While visiting Jasper, Indiana, Brian made this classic feature photograph of boys “reenacting the smell of a fake fart during their school’s talent show tryout”. What makes it for me is the wonderful use of elements throughout the frame, expertly positioned and balanced. Your eye follows the action in a complete circle and ends right back at the subject. The timeless and universal quality of boys’ behavior reminds me of high school days at the all-boys Catholic school. This is a perfect example of weaving in the photographer’s humorous personality into a photograph that stands the test of generational time.

Exercise Lab, Barnes Jewish Hospital, St. Louis.

Certainly, this photo gives pause.  The breathtaking fall forest scene on the wall invites us to hike its trails and hear the crunch of fallen leaves below our feet on the dirt pathways.  In the foreground, heavy medical tissue paper (ironically with its own crunch sound) and a sleeved pillow on the examination table gives a sense of unease while medical equipment sits idle for the next patient.  Having always loathed and feared medical tests and examinations since I was a child (the familiar smell of a medical lab and blood work is enough to make me queasy), the photo takes on a figurative visual tug-of-war.  While a part of me desires to study the foliage scene and associate good memories, the other part cringes and recoils from the medical apparatus.  I speculate the reason for the fall wall scene is to neutralize the patient’s anxiety and fear of the medical visit.  If that is the reason, then it is a tender attempt to ease the patient and provide a more relaxed environment.  A staff member mentioned that the photograph has withstood several attempts by the hospital to paint over it for almost forty years.  That is fascinating.

Compositionally (and I’m eagerly open to critiques, so please help yourself), the photograph feels heavy on the right side of the frame due to a lack of balance.  I tried to find a way to balance the sheets of paper taped to the wall (which can’t help but earn a small chuckle because they’re taped to tree limbs).  Maybe I should have stopped and spent more time at this scene, possibly using a steadier device than shooting handheld to stop down the aperture and increase the depth of field.  On the other hand, the lack of depth of field in the medical equipment very slightly increases my eye’s tendency to focus on the leaves (other than the overwhelming light and color), so maybe it is an attempt to ease over the unease.  There is also a possibility that spending too much time at the scene hinders the creative process by overanalyzing the frame.

The entire photograph is interesting, nonetheless, and lends itself as a beautiful outdoor space inside. Similar colors draw the viewer in for their own interpretation.  I wonder how long this wall photograph will remain before a drab paint overtakes it.

Here’s the Exposure Project blog site with submission information, and a link to their 3rd edition book on sale at Blurb.