There’s an ageless argument in photography involving 2 camps, one staunchly defending B&W as “more real” than color images, and of course vice-versa. Who’s right? Or wrong?
My take on this may seem like a cop-out, but choosing one over the other because it’s “more real” doesn’t resonate with me. The interpretation of any photograph is highly personal, so regardless of an image presented in B&W or color–or combinations of both–what you feel makes the image real.
Some days, I see and feel things that tell me to shoot B&W. Similarly, it goes the other direction where my sensitivities lean to color, even one particular color.
Yet these images can confound the entire argument because of my resolute commitment to personally see or find things that prompts a connection. Are these photographs less real because of my choice in isolating or selecting an object, shape, color or theme?
The primary entrance ramp to our office garage is undergoing a major rebuild. I spoke with one of the engineers who told me the short version of what needs to be done. What amazed me most was not the materials being used [steel], but the forces impressed on each steel structure to make sure everything stays in place.
The “L” brackets look like overgrown shelf brackets. They’re attached to the side of the building with bolts that run through to the other side.
The top part of each cantilever [the “L” bracket] is also bolted to a length of I-beam steel. The beams look like tracks with missing sections; nothing though is missing here on the inside of that ramp wall. In engineer-speak, “form follows function.”
The panels that are the ramps are also big and heavy. Very heavy. One of the challenges is where and how to position a crane to offload a panel. Parts of the street are suspect because of storage rooms and passages lying beneath. The weight of the crane, the truck and equipment can very well “drop” into a hole of its own making.
Much of human history is peppered with a notion that when we don’t understand the unknown, we become defensive, fearful and hesitant. Granted the opposite is also true; we can become bold, curious and willing to take a chance. There’s a dichotomy between assumptions and reactions. The sentiments in the plaque attest to these notions. Just where you straddle this dichotomous line depends on how you define yourself.
A commencement address given a few years ago might shed some light on my post. It was delivered by Tim Minchin, an alum of the University of Western Australia. His career path is one created by an awareness for all things sentient. Minchin reminds me of my own college journey in liberal arts; I found such great value in what and how you feel in terms of art, music, literature, philosophy and all those disciplines of study that pre-dated this notion that mindfulness and empathy and emotional intelligence are somehow new constructs of our modern, western world.
In his comments, his last 3 points made in impression of sorts:
#7) define yourself with what you love, not what you hate; #9) respect people with less power than you, and #9) don’t rush…
Are you leaning more to one side or the other of that dichotomous line…?
Yes, all rivers have a right and left bank. Some of the most famous of river banks can be found in Paris: the Seine.
The banks of the Connecticut River doesn’t have the inimitable splendor of its cousin in France. However, both waterways are remarkable for a myriad of reasons, some similar; but I suspect the majority of those things remarkable are marked by differences in history and appeal.
Je sais que le printemps est là quand l’arbre Redbud est en fleurs. Et quand la lumière du matin est bonne, la journée vous accueille avec des sentiments positifs.
Quand le soleil brise l’horizon, les couleurs changent, mais les sentiments positifs demeurent. Si je ressens une journée difficile, je me souviens de cet arbre en fleurs.
Il a été planté il y a des années après la mort de ma mère. C’est elle arbre et c’est magnifique.