art – Page 5 – Ink, Yarn & Beer

Vision

I have been pondering just removing this blog from the blogosphere, but haven’t done that. I have been ignoring it because I am not so sure that it is going in any direction right now. I am going in some directions, but not necessarily the ones that created the impetus for its existence. The result is something of a conflict, because I have been “doing” photography for a bit, and ignoring other things I really love. The fact is, though, photography gets me outdoors more and more, and I have forgotten how much I like that. Not outdoors at the mall, but outdoors in the wilder parts of town (i.e. places with trees and plants, not crazy drunks!). Suburbia is sadly lacking in open space at times, and that means actually taking time out to travel and drive somewhere to be outdoors.

On the other hand, photography also means packing things to lug along. I have always been a minimalist in hobbies. I don’t like to need a ton of stuff to do anything, but often photography seems to require a few things more than I really want to haul around. The trade off, though, is producing things that are better than just okay. I also think I have reached a point where I have a fairly good handle on some of the technical aspects of photography, along with more thought about composition and light, and not just running around pointing and shooting everything I see.

In a nutshell, I have reached a point of dissatisfaction with photography. That is interesting, don’t you think? For me it is. What this means that I am now at a point where it is necessary to push past the do-able to the less do-able. This may mean making advances in technique. It also means advances in creativity. At this point, photography is rather boring. Sitting at a computer to post process a picture is horribly boring – but useful. Even that, though,I prefer to keep to a minimum.

For me, the most frustrating part of photography is that it is not as manual as I would like it to be. Simply put, I like working with my hands. Cameras are not especially complex when it comes to pushing a button . . . there is not a lot of finesse, as there is in painting. It is different. On the other hand, I do get outdoors and crawl around in the bushes. That is kind of fun. And I don’t do that when I paint or knit.

The question, here, is what is my vision as a photographer – person – artist – human? Perhaps by defining my artistic vision I can open the elusive.

So, let me make a start . . .

I want to find the essential and the beautiful in the world around me, whether in nature, in a person, or in an object, whether simple or complex.

Bull? Let’s see where it goes.

To Swatch or Not to Swatch

Knitting gauge is individual. Persnicketiness is too.

Admittedly, I am a sloppy knitter because I do not get myself in a tizzy over my knitting. Dropped a stitch? Oh, well. I’ll either latch it up or not with a crochet hook. Missing a stitch? I’ll look for the offender and tie it off if it is way too far down, and add another if necessary. I don’t swatch because I know how I knit. However, for the sweater for Josh, I did swatch, but not for gauge, but for the patterns. How do they look in Brava and how do they look in this color?

A sweater is a big project, and a bit of understanding of a pattern’s texture is more important to me than my gauge. The gauge takes care of itself. What do I mean by that? I mean I have been knitting long enough to know that I knit 4.5 sts / inch with worsted weight yarn on US size 7 needles. I know that massive cables will bring in a big project about 15-20%. I figure about 5% for a lot of stranded knitting. And, because I do not follow patterns except for ideas, I also know that I can change things as I go along – or rip the whole danged thing!

In writing up patterns, I always assume a gauge to be an approximation. For some patterns, it is really important, as in fancy cable work on sweaters and jackets. If you design your own, then you are the one in control. If you follow a pattern, you are also the one in control. Take the time out to see if something might work for you – or not. Everyone who knits has their own style, their own tensions, and hence, their own gauges. Comments about how hats have turned out “too large” make me wonder if the knitter is willing to analyze their own knitting style, or is caught up with following directions and assuming all will be well. I have seen knitters who do beautiful work, but fail to consider (or take responsibility for) if their knitting is going to work with a given pattern, and then blame the pattern, not themselves.

Designing anything does require a bit of forethought, as well as a bit of risk. I mentioned in one post about photography that I’d gone to a workshop where the photographer said that no work of art was unplanned. I think that is true – sure, some things are spontaneous and successful, but not all are. Experience, experimentation, frustration, imagination, intention, repetition are all the things which lead to success in any field. Even with all the best intentions, failures can occur; however, I always think that my failure may be a success in someone else’s eye.

Knitting is an activity like any other – running, kayaking, sewing, cooking, painting, writing. It requires some focus, and can give way to that pleasurable automation of the well-trained hand. A quality of “oneness” occurs that is soothing and calming – very zen! The art of knitting is very different from the act of knitting. When it becomes an art, all your knowledge comes into play, at whatever level you are doing it. Granted, the art may be highly pragmatic in results, but it is no less an art, whatever the utilitarian need being met.

So, to swatch or not to swatch? That is up to the individual. For me, I’ll leave it alone unless I need it. I’ll dive in and adapt a bit if I need to because it suits my personality far better. However, to create a pattern with texture – that is akin to painting. How do the colors respond to this or that? How shall I use this new brush? Then I swatch, because until I see the result, I will never know. Small scraps of paper, small textured swatches. Life goes on.

More with HDR Express

One thing I find I like about HDR, if not pushed too far, is that it can create a good sense of the original light without a loss of detail. I still have 8 days left on my trial version of HDR Express, so that is the toy I chose to play with this morning. Yesterday’s picture shooting up into the tulip tree was the subject.

Manipulating images in other software, such as Photoscape or FastStone, allows me to lighten and darken them. I did this with the idea of merging multiple images in HDR Express, but HDR Express likes being boss, and reads the metadata from the same 3 images, and shuts its processes down – it realizes that you’ve got the same picture. That is a frustrating limitation. Removing all the metadata doesn’t change the situation. However! There is a work-around that is rather nice.

In Lightroom, open up the image you want, adjust the image so it is dark, and then right click on the image and export to HDR Express. It then pops open HDR Express, and HDR Express takes a few minutes, and creates 5 images, ranging from dark to light for your viewing pleasure. The differences are not immense, but if you watch the histogram on the upper right of the screen, you can see what the program is doing to your picture.

Below is a composite picture of the tulip tree out front. The top one is the original one I shot, which was dark to begin with, so I didn’t change it when I sent it to HDR Express via Lightroom. The middle one is my adjustment in Photoscape, which did a good job, but the intensity of the blue sky was a bit lacking. Finally, the bottom image is the one I exported to HDR Express, and it produced a rather pleasant image, with all the detail of the trunk, while retaining the colors of the leaves against that intensely blue sky I saw in my lens.

Top to Bottom - Original - Lightened - HDR from 1 Image — Top to Bottom - Original Picture - Lightened in Photoscape - HDR Express Image from Original

The Nikon Hit Man doesn’t like the idea of having to use lighting or post-processing to get the perfect image. I disagree. Post-processing is often necessary, and has been done forever by artists in the darkroom – dodging and burning are forms of post-processing. The thing is, sitting at a computer putzing with software is pretty dull stuff, so for us restless souls, it’s something of a nuisance. In a darkroom, you are moving around, not sitting at a desk. Big difference. Modern technology has its points, but movement is not often one of them!

I am in agreement, though, with the Nikon Hit Man about the original image: it should be as perfect as possible. This means you think about it before hand (if you can) by choosing the right lens, exposure settings on your camera, and so on. Not always easy to do – or remember – because there are so many things you can forget as well! And that is why programs which allow image manipulation are assets to the photographer. Nonetheless, for people who like the physical realities of art, software is more challenging than trying out a new medium, and often far more frustrating.

Life isn’t perfect, but we adapt!

Local Talent, ii

Last night’s workshop was presented by Tom Gamache and Van Webster. This was the least photographic workshop about photography I have ever seen!

Oh, yes, there were photos, but the key was what makes up a photograph. This means the history of painting was pulled in, with landscape paintings from the Renaissance and later being used as examples for composition, light, and action. While this may be obvious to a landscape artist, it was rather an eye-opener to hear someone say what I have thought – like the little girl in The Emperor’s New Clothes, I needed someone else to point things out to me that I already knew.

The value of this is revisitation to the elements which create drama or visual excitement in a painting. Triangular shapes. Repeated patterns. Contrast in color. Nuance of light. Light on dark. Dark on light. S curves. Z curves. Diagonals. Soft versus hard. Graphic versus romantic. Close focus. Distant focus. Foreground. Background.

One thing that stood out was pointing out that art is planned. Thinking about it, it is. The artist pulls together what they know from experience and theory, and create something. While the results may not be exactly as anticipated, the elements of composition and light and contrast are often considered before work is begun. This means preliminary drawing, value studies, whatever. In short, a bit of conscientious effort before will pay off later – and art emerges, not a lucky accident.

Definitely a thought-provoking workshop.

Doing Lines

The visual is a primary part of our lives. Eyesight, unless you have a serious problem, is taken for granted. However, looking and seeing may be two very different things.

When we look, it is an objective experience. Our eyes take in, the nerves process, our bodies and minds react. Maybe we duck. Maybe we recognize. Looking, to me, is a function of existence, and probably an essential function evolved for safety and protection.

To see is a subjective experience. Seeing is taking the act of looking to a deeper level. This is where we may interpret a facial expression. We may delve deeper into an object, moving in close to gaze on minute detail, or move back to take in a wider vantage point. Whatever we do to see, we do to experience on a personal level, from whatever motivates us to go beyond the cursory glance.

For myself, it is the simpler things I find most attractive. While I enjoy and admire an artist’s ability to capture detail, to create reality in painting, I find myself drawn to an impression of something, a piece of something, When I paint or draw, I might work to capture an object, but I am not interested in infinitesimal detail but the spirit or energy of something. There is beauty in a solid object, a single stone, the curve of a tree branch, or the metallic grill of a car. A blurred facial expression captures the essence of our mortality. This part becomes greater than the whole and is representative of the whole – the shape, the form, the gestalt.

For the past several months, I have moved away from painting and into photography. At times, I find photography a rather cold process, simply because of the lack of a brush, and the follow-up with software. The sense of involvement is far less personal, and the frustration with sitting at a desk and playing with a computer does not make me feel artistic or creative. But, somewhere, a break-through has occurred, and I realized, when reviewing a lot of my photos, that the ones I enjoyed the most – looking at as well as creating – are the ones with a strong sense of line and shape, which in turn lead to a sense of movement or calm or a glimpse into another world.

I find that my photography is influenced by my study of sumi-e where the essential of something is far more important than the actual object. I also enjoy strong, graphical compositions, which can be seen in my favorite photos, and in some of my paintings. Dynamic lines and shapes are visually exciting and interesting as they lead your eye. Lines and shapes can also draw the viewer inward, into the heart of the artist.

In a gallery, whether physical or virtual, the first thing we do is look. Something suddenly attracts us, we hone in, and then begin to see. All this is subjective. A critic, though, will step back and look more objectively, and contemplate skill, rendering, compositional elements, contrast, detail, color, and so on. An artist must also do the same of his or her own work. The purpose of this is to learn from what we have done, and this becomes an impetus to continue, to learn more, to move in this or that direction. Critiquing one’s own work, and that of others, is an intellectual enterprise, while also being a subjective experience which leads to a complex of new emotions, thoughts, perspectives, and whatever else lies within. It is also another level of the artistic experience which works in strange and wonderful ways on creativity, vision, and expression.

Artists work to create expressions of an event, an experience, an emotion. Art can be visual, auditory, or experienced by other senses, such as touch or smell. Art can be kinetic – something we do physically. Art must be experienced – watching a play, seeing a painting, listening to a song, The artist experiences his own art by doing it, and then it is shared, and in the sharing, the artist moves beyond the moment and continues to grow. The same must be said for the viewer who participates by listening or seeing or doing. All together, art creates a mesh we all experience in our own unique ways, and binds us together in our humanity, creating a community whether or not we realize it, or choose to recognize or acknowledge it.