I am not normally a fan of celebrity portraits, and perhaps less so in Richard Avedon‘s case. I find his celebrity work to be somewhat gimmicky, and not typically interesting to me, however, I recently was at Barnes and Noble and took a look at “Avedon At Work: In The American West” and was very impressed by the photography (although not really by the book itself, which was really about the process, not the photos, besides the book being too expensive for what it was). This made me somewhat upset that all the normal Avedon work they had there was (primarily) his celebrity work, which, while bound and presented in a very interesting way, was not impressive to me visually.

Thus, when Avedon’s book “In The American West“ popped up on Amazon for me, I was quite happy, and since I needed the extra purchase for free shipping anyway, I snatched it up. When it arrived, I was thrilled. The book is large (as large as Schoeller’s “Close Up”, which is also an excellent book of portraits, not to mention a $1,000 collectible) but is also covered in a plastic sleeve to protect it even further, which is a welcome addition to such a gorgeous book. The cover has a great feel to it, and the pages are all a good weight and clarity. The photos are large, but not so large that you can’t take it all while holding the book at arms length. They are detailed, highly personal, and extremely complex and subtle. They are what good portraits are. In the beginning and end of the book, it has a few pages of text talking about the overall project, and some specific people, however it keeps it separate from the images, which I find to be better, since you can then simply go through the images and view them as they are, without any other context or distraction. The only accompanying text for each photo is a brief caption including name, date taken, and occupation or title (Drifter, Oil Field Worker, etc.). While often they are predictable, there are a few captions that truly add a new depth to the image they are attached to.

My only complaint in the book is minor, and takes only a few pages away from the book. There is, included in the rest, a small section of photos of butchered animal heads. They are grotesque, shocking, and not at all cohesive with the other material. And for those with stomaches that upset easily, they will come about very rudely and unexpectedly. One of the most compelling aspects of the book is the way in which it takes common people from America’s west, and gives them a sort of uncanny dignity. They are photographed by a man who made his career shooting the likes of Elizabeth Taylor and Marilyn Monroe. He does not glorify the people he shoots, but he presents them with a sort of rugged strength that goes beyond the security of wealth or fame. Best yet, the photos are subtle. The intention, story, and character of the subjects are not spelled out, but rather kept on the border of abstraction, with plenty of room for the viewer to read their own story into them. But then, mixed in, there are these 4-5 photos of animal carcasses. They are gory, impersonal, and seem to be shocking for the sake of shock. They are the few images that posses none of the dignity or strength that is so pervasive throughout all the remaining 100-some images. Personally, they are the few that I think should have been left out to keep the subject matter focused.

That one reservation aside, overall this is a great book. It is unusual to find such high quality, large printed books for a great price like this, and so if you’re considering, you should not pass this up.

The process of selecting an image out of many that is the best is a topic that interests me very much, especially in terms of portraiture. I’m certainly not as advanced a landscape photographer as some, but in my experience selecting the best images out of a given set of landscape photos is somewhat simpler, as it tends to involve the more technical elements of photography (level horizons, accurate/intended exposure, etc.) and somewhat less subjective. This assumes though, that you’re working consistently within a given style, and if you’re selecting from a batch of photos of essentially one location or vista. Portraits, however, might involve a single lighting setup for an entire run, no significant variation in exposure, and nearly identical cropping of the subject, and yet the results can vary wildly.

Try to determine the best shot in these circumstances becomes very complicated. It is subjective, emotional, and fluid. It will differ from one day to the next. It may differ 40 times on the same day. What exactly drives me to select a given photo is something I am intrigued by, because honestly it is not something I understand very well, in spite of a great deal of effort to try, but, in effect, I’ll do my best to explore this topic fully right now.

While I don’t necessarily intend to cover the topic of work flow, as it has been addressed elsewhere already, the fact is that it also is somewhat important to consider, so I’ve included here a screen shot of what my (twin) monitors are showing when I’m selecting.

Thank you to Brett, for making this post possible.

For my particular photo organization, I use Aperture, which has served me well, and I’ve talked about it on this blog before. It’s a great tool for sorting/rating/organizing, and generally just not-losing thousands of photos. That being said, any program you have that will allow you to view multiple photos simultaneously should be sufficient.

Moving past the simple work flow issues, things get much more complicated. At this point the photos I select are largely hinged on the mood I’m in. Had a long day and feel exhausted? Sure, I’ll pick the photo where it looks like the subject was pushing rocks up a hill all day. Feeling a little goofy or hyper? Sure, I’ll probably pick this one:

But let’s assume for the time being that we’re straying away from gimmicky photos. If we’re really addressing the beauty of photos, then we are really confronting the complexity of the human form, especially via expression.

This is where things start to get quite personal, and I know a number of photographers will not agree with my opinions on portraiture. I believe that the more subtle an expression becomes, the more complex it becomes. A straight face often shows more of a person than a smile they choose to show for the sake of a photo. One is forced, a mask, and the other is not. While there are certainly many uses and applications for portraiture, I believe that generally a good rule is that the photo is not necessarily meant to make the subject appear “beautiful”, at least not in a superficial sense. Far better to appear a interesting, than to appear physically attractive. In my opinion, appearing interesting will make you attractive to the viewers, even if the subject wishes they had smiled, worn their hair differently, or otherwise.

This is one of the main variances in my shooting method between now and when I first began the 366 Portrait Project. When I first began, after I’d do a studio shoot I’d often upload the images immediately and showed them how they turned out. But what I most often found is that the shots I liked best (and, to viewers who did not know the subjects) were rarely well received (at least immediately) by the subject. Now when I shoot, I often tell subjects that nobody likes a straight-faced picture of themselves, but everyone else will.

Again, not to suggest that there is no place for smiles, warm feelings, or humor. If you browse the project, you will quickly see that I do not hold those traits against a photo. Merely I wish to suggest that if they are there, the dynamic must not always be simple. If a person is happy, the viewer should think about why. Thus generating interest.

The three photos shown above were from a very brief shoot I did of my boss earlier today. They are totally unprocessed and unedited, except to be bounced down to jpegs for upload here. All three images are expressions I find interesting; none would make for a particularly awful portrait. In many ways, this is where the photographer (or editor, photo director, client, etc.) gets to decide how to present a subject. If the photo is intended to stand alone, the selection will often (and should often) vary to a great degree from what you might select if it is to accompany text or a greater selection of photos.

For example, if you were selecting one of these portraits for use in an article about a sly young business owner, you would most likely select the first photo. However, an article discussing whether Mac users are overly-proud of their products, you might select the third.

However, in this context, I was selecting a photo to be used only for itself. And as such, I deliberately chose to go with the photo that was the least clear in its intent. This middle photo does not seem to have any predisposition in it. It is a complicated expression, although you have to look for it to see it. You can’t look at the photo and immediately identify what the subject is experiencing or feeling. You can’t immediately tell how his day, much less his year has gone. Difficult or easy? It’s a topic for discussion. I recently realized the profoundness of this sentiment when I was told recently by somebody close to me that when looking at my portraits, it is difficult to choose an emotion that is represented. In trying to decide, a viewer may scan through dozens of emotions to try to understand what is being said.

And often, every one of those emotions applies.

Happy viewing.

I’m not exactly sure how ideas become lucid, but today I woke up with a question in my mind about whether or not my photography, and by implication, all photography, should be considered content or commentary.

The concept of content vs. commentary first entered my mind yesterday while watching a documentary discussing the subject of journalism in this current generation. Most discussion on the web is simple regurgitation of previously existing information. A blog sees that this group or that has discovered some piece of news, and then a hundred thousand bloggers will recite that news, sometimes quite similar to the original, and sometimes with either a very different spin or their own opinions on the subject.

Photography, however, is a strange beast. Unlike painting, it begins with a scene already in place and works backwards. Creating a photo simply records an event that already existed, but I’m not sure that it’s that simple. The editorial process of choosing what photos to show, creating a color palette, and even basic post-processing decisions can drastically alter a viewers perception of the photo, and thus of the topics and discussions that surround it. This can, at times, be a very overt decision, choosing to make the photos represent very specific agendas, and other times are not so clear.

To cite my own work as an example, the photo displayed here is in once sense simply recording an event and passing it along to the world. Granted, it’s posed in the sense that I told Abby where to stand relative to the lights or the backdrop, but I don’t meticulously pose my subjects, and so it takes on a candid undertone as well.

But the process of choosing that photo out of the 75 other options from Abby’s shoot is reflective of my own views of photography, of life, of Abby, of women in general, of color or contrast, and any number of possible interpretations. In fact, in the circles I am in that know Abby, the topic of my selection has been an issue of a certain amount of discussion, because everyone agrees, including myself, that the photo I displayed of her is not consistent with how most people view Abby. She is very loud, excitable, energetic, and so on. The photo I selected was not contrived in that I told her to look distracted, if not somewhat tired, but neither was it arbitrary.

There are thousands of other examples to take into this. So much of celebrity photography, whether studio, press line, or paparazzi, could serve either as content, that is to say simply sharing a concept with whatever viewing audience sees it, or commentary, which is to elaborate on existing concepts with the photographers opinion.

What do you think?