Find out how Alec Soth constructs his projects, why Trent Parke relies on old-fashioned Polaroids and hand-made books, and how forty-one other photographers experiment with new and old technologies, turn their photo-diaries into exhibitions, and attract audiences of millions via online platforms.
This book celebrates the creative processes of the modern photographic era, in which blogs and Instagram streams function alongside analog albums and contact sheets, and the traditional notebook takes the form of Polaroid studies, smartphone pictures, found photography, experimental image-making, and self-published photo-zines. Each photographer presents his or her sketchbook: several pages of images that convey his or her working methods and thought processes. These intimate, oneoff presentations are accompanied by engaging interviews that reveal how the simple act of pressing a shutter can capture and express a fully realized personal vision.
Photographers’ Sketchbooks, by Stephen McLaren (Author), Bryan Formhals (Author)
Design by Kmmmer & Herrman
December 9, 2014
This looks very interesting.
Arnold has been compared to a contemporary Robert Frank (or Frank’s mentor, Walker Evans) for his gimlet-eyed view of the city and its people, but his slavish dedication to daily shooting could be compared to that of the blue-smocked street photographer Bill Cunningham. He’s a full-time freelancer—pocketing a day rate for gigs—but it was a last-minute print sale that once paid the rent. Last March, on his birthday, he sold prints off his feed for $150 a pop and made $15,000. Forbes wrote about it. According to Gawker, Arnold is Instagram’s best photographer.
➜ Oil Rush by Debasish Shom
Interesting essay on life at the Htankhi oil field of Myanmar
Modern street photographers are fluttering, intrusive, yet vaguely stealthy creatures who live on edge in quizzical search of imagery they cannot foresee. They have reason to be nervous, for they work in a chaotic zone of ephemeral “targets” that may be reluctant to appear in an unannounced view, or else are endowed with a speedy, unsettling talent for vanishing from it. But this visual quarry teases not simply because it is disobedient and elusive. The conditions of the field are more bothersome than that, for the motifs presented by the photographer cannot be said to have existed before, and they do not endure after they have been wrought from light in the precise configurations we later come to know. (…)
Underlying street photography is a naturalist argument that goes something like this: The value of the picture resides in its truthful observation. This value is jeopardized to the extent the photographer intervenes in the social circumstances, causing a rupture from what would naturally have happened. The natural is defined as a mélange of urban events contingent upon each other, and therefore inherently effervescent and unpredictable. There can be no record of such action unless the photographer is committed to techniques of furtive and opportune surveillance whose goals cannot easily be rationalized. No wonder street photographers are often solitary, and always professional strangers with little to say about their indefinite motives. Still, their overall approach is conceptually articulate, because in practice it integrates the moral goal of credibility, the philosophical notion of contingency and the professional requirement of freedom and spontaneity, each impossible to realize without engaging with the others.