6/26

I’ve been looking at two recent books of photographs a lot lately, Lee Friedlander’s ‘In the Picture: Self Portraits 1958-2011’ and the just released retrospective ‘Garry Winogrand’.

I’m continuously struck by the relentless energy and incredible production of these two artists. Friends and contemporaries (Winogrand died in 1984) they share a similar sensibility about photography and an almost insatiable desire document everything they see. It might be seen as compulsion (and in some cases it may be correct) but it mostly feels like two guys who love taking photographs.

Winogrand’s comment, “I photograph to find out what something will look like photographed” used to strike me as a tossed off remark. This could be (Winogrand was known for not talking about his pictures) but the more I look at his work I see a lot of truth in this comment. There does seem to be a sense of inquiry or curiosity in his photographs. You can almost hear him whispering “I wonder what this would look like as a photo? Or this or this or this or that……”

Along with this wonder is an energy packed into the image that often feels like it might explode out of the frame. Whether it’s on the street, at the zoo, in the airport, at the beach, a political convention, the rodeo, football game, museum opening, Winogrand’s images are filled with life. Even the rare photos without people manage to convey a sense of energy, mystery, pathos or humor. Together, they might be still images from a gigantic documentary film or the basis for a million short stories. It’s not all pretty, (and some of it may be seen as hostile, cruel or misogynistic), but you can’t turn away from the power of these photographs. They keep you wondering and they keep you interested.

If it’s possible to be stranger, more compulsive and prolific than Winogrand, then Lee Friedlander is that person. His most recent book of self portraits (there are now five!) is a perfect example. Starting in 1958 and going through 2011, this latest collection holds a staggering 379 images. Friedlander in the mirror, his shadow, with his wife, his son, his daughter, his granddaughter, grandson, friends, colleagues, celebrities, groups, reflected in windows, obscured by tree limbs, with statues, with mannequins, young, old, healthy, sick, on vacation, in the hospital, handsome, not so handsome, thin, not so thin, and on and on and on.

It’s a fantastic book with all the attributes of Friedlander’s long history. A relentless barrage of so many photos you can feel overwhelmed. It could (and probably should) have been more tightly edited, but that would have been against Friedlander’s everything and the kitchen sink approach to photography. More is not less, but in fact, more.

What I love about Garry Winogrand and Lee Friedlander is that I see and feel the need and/or joy (perhaps simple, perhaps not) of taking photographs. The process of running film through a camera and making pictures. Documenting what you see, where you are, what you’re curious about, what you’re feeling and what you’re interested in. It’s not conceptual or loaded with overt ‘meaning’ (and this is why they were both ignored by the faculty when I was in graduate school), but it speaks to something I greatly admire. The feeling of making art through a life lived out in the world. Not consumed with theoretical pronouncements about art and photography or life, but rather by being engaged with the world and trying to understand it.

What gives this work its power is a willingness to try and make sense of a world that rarely does so. To engage with the everyday and all its complexities, contradictions, and marvels. It doesn’t have easy answers, but it leaves us with much to consider.

Top: Garry Winogrand, John F. Kennedy International Airprot, New York, 1968
Bottom: Lee Friedlander, Tokyo, 1994