To See A Darkness--only a week away!

Alright folks, there are only seven days left to prepare for the artistic event of of the year: The Asheville Area Arts Council July exhibit, featuring my new series, To See A Darkness. I'm in ostentatious promotional overdrive, as well as matting overdrive, framing overdrive, and damn-I-need-some-sleep overdrive.

I've just received word that the opening reception will be graced by none other than the dashingly beautiful strip-club photojournalist Kim Barto, as well as the usual gallery ghouls, loose women, and creepy DarkTopo characters. Unfortunately, I don't think Moudy will be able to make it this year. He's a little tied up on the homefront.

I've updated the original announcement to reveal the name of the mysterious fourth artist that joined us at a later date: Mixed media quilter/painter Jane Reeves!



And finally, I've been sparing no expense on promotion. Here are the latest shots of my mass-marketing ad campaign using the sneak-preview promo images available in the announcement:















Next Friday night, folks. See you there.

SAD177: The Dam, revisited, part II

SAD177 :: Nikon F100 :: Zenitar 16mm/f2.8 fisheye :: Delta 100 :: Summer, 2006









Don't worry, J. Westall. This post can only be seen by people that have the internet.

SAD176: The Dam, revisited

SAD176 :: Nikon F100 :: Zenitar 16mm/f2.8 fisheye :: Delta 100 :: Summer, 2006

As a graduation present, my parents gave me this lens. I quickly set about over-using it in garish ways.

The other thing I did was drop my film in the river. A stroke of photographic genius if ever I've had one. I got all these cool goopy lines on my film where the soft emulsion had stuck to itself. Exactly as I'd planned!

Drama.

Alright, folks. Seriously. I've posted pictures of hot girls kissing each other, rednecks racking shotguns, my own bloody teeth, and Sarah Palin in tight jeans, and no one says a damned word until I make some negative ramblings about film. Then all of a sudden there's more traffic on my blog than the "I Heart Twilight" page on Facebook.

Slap me around and call me Perez Hilton.

Ok, so maybe I was a little harsh in asking "What fool would shoot a magazine assignment on film?" But I think maybe some folks out there might be a little too sensitive about their favorite films. We're all scared to read photo.net every day because we don't want to see another film line going under. But let's be honest with ourselves: Film is a niche market, and the niche gets tighter every day.

And I say "ourselves" because, contrary to what some might be led to believe from the responses to my Kodachrome post, I love film. When I ask what fool would shoot film for an assignment, there's a bit of implied self-parody. I shot film for a newspaper every day earlier in my career. And, in case no one has noticed, the "S.A.D." in the S.A.D. Project stands for Scan-A-Day. Very hard to scan digital photos.

Finally, the show that I'm hanging next week(!) will contain 17 images. Of those, only three were captured digitally.

Having said all that, I take issue with the comment (there you go again, Anonymous) that "plenty of fools" still shoot film for magazine assignments. Other than medium format fashion shoots, I'd wager that the percentage of film shooters is less than three. Why would a magazine use a medium that is costlier, slower, poorer in quality, and harder to archive? And to respond to Michel, Joel Sartore no longer shoots film: "These days, I only use digital cameras."

Film is the vinyl LP of photography. Really cool, lots of fun, and arguably more authentic. But when results matter and there's money on the line, I think it's clear that the market has made its choice.

SAD175: The Bard's Colossal Bachelor Party

SAD175 :: Nikon F100 :: Nikkor 50mm/f1.8 AF-D :: Delta 100/HP5 pushed to 800 :: May, 2006

By most accounts, the Bard's bachelor party lasted several days. It started at my graduation, where I quickly shed my cap and gown. No one really remembers when it ended.

SAD174

SAD174 :: Pentax K1000 :: Pentax 28mm/f2.8 SMC :: Delta 100 :: May, 2006

An interlude. Kure Beach. Angie Aparo. And a truck.

"I never wondered if I had done the right thing

. . . because it was so strong, so strong. It was so important, those days and weeks of the change happening. First of all, every day, being alive was a gift. There was shooting everywhere, and this was the first thing: being alive. There was so much going on that you didn’t even have time to think about it. There were demonstrations everywhere, everybody’s shooting, people running, and it was really, really, very tough days.

"The impact, especially now, will come more from the individual journalist. The old media, somehow, are going to give away to a new type of media. Obviously, the Internet is going to play a very important role. I believe that the real democracy that we always talk about, the idea that everybody has a possibility to give his voice, that is what is coming . . .

"I believe that, more and more, individuals will be important . . . because
they are the ones that are going to change the world. Not CNN, not ABC
News, or FOX, or whatever. The future is people like you, people that
hold blogs, using the Internet . . .

"I too believe that, especially in the 21st century, there will be
great opportunity for images to change the world—-the image is going to be,
probably, one of the main factors of the change in the world."

-Reza, National Geographic photographer who began his career upon his exile from Iran three decades ago, in his DarkTopo interview.

SAD173: The Aftermath

And then everything happened at once.


SAD173 :: Pentax K1000 :: Pentax 28mm/f2.8 SMC :: Delta 100 :: May 13, 2006

First, against all expectations, I graduated. I was pretty shocked myself. Second, and also against all expectations, the Bard fooled a woman into marrying him. The odds of these two things happening, ever, were slimmer than a three-legged racehorse placing first. But they did happen, and they happened two weeks apart.

And in those two weeks were Angie Aparo's appearance at the Grey Eagle, a trip to Kure Beach, and my twenty-somethingth birthday.

Because retrospect affords me the luxury of taking it slow, I will first post the few pictures I have from the graduation throw-down at Madame Rex's house.


SAD173a-c :: Nikon F100 :: Nikkor 50mm/f1.8 AF-D :: HP5 pushed to 1600 :: May 13, 2006





DarkTopo: Because life is too short not too look at pictures of people wearing beer hats.

Film for color slides.

I've never shot a roll of Kodachrome. It now looks like I never will.

The article mentions Steve McCurry's shot of the Afghan girl. The only real significance Kodachrome holds for me is that is was the film of choice for National Geographic photographers for the entirety of my recollection. Does that make this a sad day for photojournalism? I'm not sure.

I've never been one to care much for the gear that other people use. But, objectively speaking, without regard to minuscule differences between flashes and pro-level lenses, the reason I chose Nikon was because Joel Sartore and Micheal Nichols chose Nikon. I guess I had just always assumed that, if and when I got my first big magazine assignment, I would shoot it on Kodachrome.

But who are we kidding? What fool would shoot a magazine assignment on film?

The documentary photographers that are being born now will not have this inner turmoil. They won't wonder if photography as they know it is dying, because they will never know anything but digital capture. When I think of them, I feel such an envious pity.

Rhyme and reason.

Since this time last week I have lost a grandparent, gained a niece, secured two new exhibits, been rejected for another, matted and framed an entire show (almost), driven 25 hours, received a firearm as a gift, ridden in a limousine, blown a head gasket in a borrowed car, found a new swimming hole on the South Toe River, worked 35 hours at an actual regular job, and gotten poison ivy.

Consequently, there are no new SAD posts. I'm sorry.

I will catch up. I feel blessed to be so busy that I must make decisions about which photography project takes priority over the others, and still capable of keeping them all more or less together. But permit me this:

SMAN said it one time, climbing up the bank from the Baker's Creek Dam--What better goal than to live a good life and document it? In a week with birth and death and the labor of producing an exhibit by the skin of my teeth, that goal has never seemed so present and so unattainable.

When Jes first looked at the proofs I made of the images that will be in To See A Darkness, she said they looked like visions you'd see before death, as you watched your life flash before your eyes. And that describes it better than I ever could: You don't take pictures, they are given. Your job is to live up to the gift.





Edited to add SAD 171 (above) and 172. Nikon FM2n, 28/f2.8, Portra 400NC. You knew I couldn't let it go.

To See A Darkness opens two weeks from tonight!

(SAD170 :: Nikon F100 :: Nikon FM2n :: Portra 160NC)

Alright folks, the social event of the year is fast approaching: Two weeks from tonight, the group exhibit featuring my series, To See A Darkness, will open at the Asheville Area Arts Council's gallery on Biltmore Avenue. My house is a disheveled nightmare of frames, mats, and exquisitely collectible prints that will be gobbled up by all the bourgeoisie two Fridays from now.

Life is a crescendo of stress, and full of tough decisions. Which archival rag mat will match the vest of my tuxedo? Is shape really an important artistic device, or is color the only thing that matters in choosing a 40 foot yacht to purchase with the show's proceeds? Should I choose a black-market Cuban cigar to be handed out at the reception, or will the uncultured masses be oblivious to anything nicer than a Dominican maduro?

Word on the street is that the gallery will be springing for some excellent table fare. There has also been a slight hiccup: A mysterious fourth artist joined our show at a late date. These details and more will be forthcoming, but here's what's written in stone:

What: To See A Darkness, new photography by Max Cooper
Where: AAAC Gallery, 11 Biltmore Avenue
When: July 3, 5:30-8:30 p.m.
How much: Absolutely free!

Stay tuned to the blog for the gritty reality of pre-show life in Coopervegas, plus sneak preview images and self-absorbed tortured-artist rants! You know you love it! See you in two weeks.

SAD169: Darkness on the Edge of Town

SAD169 :: Pentax K1000 :: Zenitar 16mm/f2.8 :: Delta 100 :: April, 2006

I am too tired to do this post justice, but I will be unable to post it later. Here goes.

If you want to learn, exhibit. Or play paintball. Or get married. I've done all three, and I've found nothing else that will teach you so much so quickly. Little things. Like, bring a damn notebook so you don't have to write measurements on your arm. Things like the great idea you thought you had about taping your frames to prevent scratches ends up being the worst idea you've ever had when you can't get the tape back off.


SAD169 :: Nikon F100 :: Nikkor 50mm/f1.8 AF-D :: Delta 100 :: April, 2006







And finally, the most important thing I learned is that a gallery opening is never boring if you have the Bard doing interpretive dance.

SAD168: A Horrible Night to Have a Curse

SAD168 :: Nikon F100 :: Nikkor 28mm/f2.8 AF-D :: HP5 :: Spring, 2006

One night I left the house at 10 p.m. and went to the Toe River at Green Mountain. I took the best photos of my life to that point. I spent six hours on the river, chasing trains back and forth between the crossings, and finally staggered home just before dawn. And not only were the photos exactly what I had envisioned in my head, there were enough of them to complete my upcoming exhibit.

The next night I went to the darkroom and developed the film. When I pulled the reels out of the tank after the wash, I squeegeed them between my fingers, as was my custom. The emulsion peeled off in my hands.

Whoever had mixed the chemistry had forgotten to add hardener to the fix.

Luckily, I was paying attention, and only lost a few frames. But I had washed the film in 85 degree water, as was also my custom, because I didn't like being up to my elbows in cold water. Moving from a 68 degree soup to an 85 degree wash reticulated the emulsion beyond repair.



Here, it appears as very course grain. On the wall, you can see the reticulation as transparent worms that appear to be crawling over the photos that would otherwise have been the centerpieces in my show.









I can trace much of my artistic makeup back to that moment. Never, EVER let anyone else have influence over your work, whether it be the critic in the newspaper or the slack-jawed kid running the minilab machine.

I recreated most of the shots, but I could not recreate the moon. I once read about how scientists were able to pinpoint the exact night Ansel Adams shot Moon Over Hernandez by some kind of crazy reverse engineered astronomy. Essentially, the moon will never be in the same place twice in a lifetime. It will be very, very close, but never exact.

Kind of like fixer without hardener. Close, but not close enough.

SAD167

SAD167 :: Nikon F100 :: Nikkor 28mm/f2.8 AF-D :: HP5 :: Spring, 2006



There are a couple of nights that stand out clearly in my memory of that Spring; this was one of them. I left Burnsville at around 10 p.m. and got back home around 4:30 a.m. I shot something like ten rolls, which is quite a bit for that kind of work.

I went about twenty miles into Tennessee, which is where I got the truck ramp photos. I went down back roads I'd never driven before. I stopped and shot anything that looked promising. When you're in the zone, you feel like you can make a good photo out of anything. Sometimes you're right, and sometimes you aren't.

When I got home, I spent half an hour shooting the trailers parked across the street. Then I stumbled into the house and saw this.