While it’s certainly true in general, I think photography in particular has made a certain aspect of life extremely acute for me, and namely, it is that there are many worlds within this one with which I know nothing about. They may only be a few miles away, but they are completely foreign. One such world is 4H rabbit competition.

Some of you, perhaps, have heard of Richard Prince. For those of you who don’t know, he has on more than one occasion set the record for highest price on an auction photo. Also worth mentioning… His work is entirely unoriginal. He is a hack.

The thing that disturbs me most about this, is that the “high art” community adores him. They defend him. They pay millions of dollars for one of his ripoffs. It’s like buying a knockoff Rolex and paying 40 times as much as a real one. It is insanity.

And ultimately, what it shows, is that art cannot be trusted to the fine art community. For all the galas and fancy dresses and champagne and talking about how an image “speaks” to them, they seem to have no regard for the image whatsoever. Sam Abell‘s photo could never sell for 3.4million. But Richard Prince took a picture of his photo and sold it for nearly that. And whoever purchased it probably swooned over their good fortune.

This struck me as interesting because of a discussion I was having with my brother about originality. C.S. Lewis said, “Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.” This comment lead to Tim telling me that in Shakespeare’s time, acquiring and duplicating another persons work was considered acceptable if not common, so long as something was added. In Richard Princes case, there is no truth, and there is no addition. I have no illusions about creating an image never before seen. I do, however, intend to tell the truth in it. To attempt to show something as I see it. This is not, however, to show something as it is.

Therein lying the second problem. Nothing is added. If you look at Prince’s “sculptures” (remember when I said he was a hack?) you’ll at least see that he, so far as I know, created something. More likely though, he just towed it from wherever highway work was being done, but nevertheless, let’s assume(read:pretend) he made it. In this case, really, he is at least bringing something into the world. Yes, it is a shape that already exists, but he made it himself. It could possibly mean something to him or someone else.

Duplicating a photo, verbatim (so to speak) however, is not true. It is a forgery. It is buying a painting and selling it as your own. At least to paint a forgery would require a great deal of talent. To photograph an existing photo, really, does not. If he photographed an existing photo, and then painted cigarettes onto his cowboys, at least he would be adding something. He could add little red mustaches or devil horns or fruit baskets and at least it would be something he could say he made.

But alas, art is not for artists. It is for people who wish to pretend they are.

I have said this before,

“The fake works and struggles for all to see. He groans and strains and does his work in a glass room, and when emerging says, ‘Look at my masterpiece.’ The artist does his work in secret, and in silence: in darkened stone rooms, and when emerging says, ‘Look at the beauty I have found.’”

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.