Passion/Dispassion

 

Dispassion

Over time, and through usage based on definitional perceptions, words will sometimes take on negative connotations. We all know about passion or the mental state of being passionate about whatever we obsess over, but what of a person who is considered to be dispassionate? 

Sounds terrible to think that one might be dispassionate or exhibit qualities (such as they exist in this case) of dispassion. 

Since the invention of photography in the early 1800’s, the craft and art has provided many forms of expression, from landscape, street, photojournalism, and all types of images encompassed within those genres. One known, but little discussed form of photography, is that of death photos. This is where dispassion comes in, particularly when viewing those images that were taken in the 19th and early 20th Centuries. One can research numerous articles about the when, how’s and why’s of death photos. 

My Aunt Jeanie, a national award-winning photographer in the early 1960’s, began taking death photos of immediate family members in the 1990’s. I continued her tradition in the early 2000’s. It takes a high degree of dispassion to endeavor this type of photography. It’s easy when the images are from strangers decades ago, but not so much when the subjects are family in the contemporary now. I avoid viewing her photos and my own of this genre. While I  made the decision to not engage in the taking of death photos in the future, I failed in that declaration when my Mother passed. Those are images that are not for publication.

Working with digital tintype images, the subject matter of the ancient and ever-present human conditions of aging and decline has presented me with a compelling “need” to document. These images, of which I’ve taken a fair number over the past year, may or may not ever be presented in whole or as a series. It’s a personal exploration requiring a high degree of dispassion. I honestly don’t fully understand this stated “need.” 

But such is the art of photography. Such is the drive of any art form, whether photography, painting, writing or music. The kind of photos I’ve been taking in this emerging series requires passion. It also requires a dispassionate approach in the creative process of this subject matter. 

If you have a negative idea of what “dispassion” or “dispassionate” mean, I encourage you to open a dictionary. Both passion and dispassion require open minds. They also require passion on numerous levels. 

©Rick Burnett Baker

Perceptions

 

Images from my "throwaway" files, 

edited in VintageScene FX

EXPERIMENTS IN PERCEPTION

(Or, What does this have to do with photography?)  

Reimagine the present as the past.  How would your POV change, or would it?  Compare the wonder of early 1800’s images, and even the first known photos, to the absolutist images of today, and explore the sense of wonder and imagination from both points of view.  

Consider our notions of a “throwaway society” in terms of photography and what we today deem worthy of exhibiting compared to how we appreciate imperfect images from the past.  How does that comparison square with our personal and collective ideals of worthiness and value of any given photo? 

Can we learn value and appreciation of beauty, history, and our surroundings by exploring and reconsidering the “throwaway” components of our efforts to capture the “perfect” photo?  

As photography enthusiasts, are we too quick to judge images as throwaways or duds due to the evolution of photographic tools and our modern expectations for results we can achieve with those tools, and does that dampen our ability to see beyond imperfection, thus narrowing the definitions of art and beauty?  Do imperfections in any given photo enhance its intrinsic beauty or appeal?  How does the often touted benefits of large megapixel capabilities of our modern, ever evolving photo equipment and software reduce our ability to see beauty and worth in mundane or lower quality images?  

Does the use of present-day editing software to create imperfections in already imperfect images defeat the purpose of said software? 

The oldest known surviving photograph titled “View From the Window at Le Gras” was taken around 1826 by Nicephore Niepce using his photographic invention called heliography.  That process created a one-of-a kind photo on a pewter plate treated with bitumen of Judea which is a naturally occurring asphalt containing light-sensitive properties.  The photo was a grainy, blurred, purple tinted rendering of buildings that are barely recognizable as buildings.  This photo is sometimes shown as a Helumt Gershein enhanced version that belies the primitive nature of the original photo taken by Niepce. The original is currently part of the permanent collection at the University of Texas-Austin.  

The Niepce image is often regarded with awe by photogs and the general public despite its mostly unrecognizable content.  

Combing through my old files of photos, I’ve been looking at the images that would nearly always be considered as throwaways or duds.  I’ve edited these photos from an “ancient” point of view, imagining them as the early primitive art form of photography, and also viewing them from a modern stance of abstract imaging.  Few people like or appreciate blurry, grainy, abstract photos, and the common refrain might be, “What the hell is THAT?  I just don’t get it!”  Others will glibly ask the rhetorical question, “What does this have to do with photography?” 

Thus, when asking the question, “What does this have to do with photography,”  try to understand how your preconceived expectations of photography determine what you consider as beauty, art, or perfection.  Next, ask yourself if that answer might be the the same for every other viewer of photography.  Remember that any given image will elicit a thousand reactions from a hundred people.  From simple images of street signs to the esoteric renderings with blur, grain, and abstract qualities, every photograph is photography.  Not every photo can be described as “fine art” photography, but anyone who has to ask the question of, “What does this have to do with photography” should reevaluate their use of imagination, curiosity, and even humor.  Having to ask that question suggests more about the one asking, than the photo itself.  

I encourage photography enthusiasts to break out of their insular views and habits, and explore different avenues of the hobby and art.  Re-imagine the images you’ve passed by or rejected, and engage in experiments of perception.  Imagination breathes new life into a hobby, and might lead to fun and exciting directions, despite some people who “just don’t get art,” or who’s perceptions are blurred in the ruts of habit and dogma. 

©Rick Burnett Baker 

A Study In Archaeology

 

From my various nude, semi-nude, and abstract overlay images over a period of some 45 years.  I'm gradually preparing some of these photos for a coffee table book during the coming year. 

"Burial Mound" 

 

©Rick Burnett Baker 

Cosmos

 

Cosmos 

Signs of plentiful years abound:

Open gates, rotting fences, 

dormant tree branches.  A path of 

sanity is rutted with mud, tears of 

the cosmos indifferent to wishes of any

living creature’s roiling blood. 

Colorless forests quietly

harbor life, bereft of purpose, as if

purpose is pain. Disquietudes of a               

breeze are mournful melodies sung by 

no one willingly.  I walk slowly, stepping 

over cow patties, shedding tears as rain.

Becoming one with a scene is neither 

required nor necessary to gleaning its

beauty or gore.  Life’s significance, 

likewise, depends on nothing said or 

implied within grief’s spiritual vacuum, 

hollowed by what was and is no more. 

©Rick Burnett Baker

Health Is Mental

 This is from an emerging 3am inspired, hopefully temporary selfie series titled, "The Unflattering"

Health Is Mental

What is mental health?  As of the past few years, and now at the end of 2022, “mental health” is a buzz phrase. 

It’s been an excuse for bad behavior.  It’s touted as a solution for what we see as societal ills.  It’s a way to abdicate responsibility for our actions, both personally and collectively.  It’s a sense of shame when we can’t see the symptoms within our own skulls. 

Sometimes it’s permanent.  Sometimes it manifests only on occasion, situationally.  Those two aspects are not always mutually exclusive.  One can wish. 

Situationally is the one we occasionally experience during crisis.  What’s disturbing and concerning is that the world is in a constant state of crisis.  What’s amazing is how we garner resilience to ward off the permanence of such an ecumenical state of mind.  Hopefully, that is. 

What is a buzz phrase, or buzz word?  They are, perhaps, coping mechanisms created to sustain humanity until working solutions can be found to move us beyond mere sustenance and stasis, and into a positive framework. Health itself is mental.  Hopefully, that is. 

   ©️Rick Burnett Baker

Lines Of Skin

 

Three images from my various nude, semi-nude, and abstract overlay series over a period of some 45 years.  I'm gradually preparing some of these images for a coffee table book during the coming year. 

"Holy Water"

2013

"Hither"

 

2013

"Nocturn"

2013

©Rick Burnett Baker 

Chewing The Cud

Ruminations. (Or Chewing The Cud)

Looking at this bowl of succulents one may see a plant. Amazingly, its parts are potential new plants. Break one off and it will root and form another entity. Several other plants in my home have that same potential. I take hope and inspiration from this phenomenon of ancient ways of nature, yet doubt and trepidation pull and push at my mind simultaneously when considering human mortality. Must be an age thing.

©Rick Burnett Baker

Digital Tin-Type by R. Baker