RIP Bert Stern

There are many reasons to admire and mourn the loss of photographers who have come before us, and shaped the art of photography.  For me, it's often about their creative boldness, so often forgotten when, over time, what was once bold becomes commonplace.

As a way to remember Bert Stern, a quote about him I read in the NYT sums it up for me:

"In a statement considered provocative in its day, Mr. Stern told a panel of commercial artists in 1959, 'I like to put my feelings into my photographs.'"

So hard, if not impossible, to imagine how people once considered something like that provocative.   But just because today we all know about using our feelings, doesn't mean we try hard enough to actually do it.  It's good to be reminded to do so while we still can.

Good Coat, Bad Coat

When I saw this from a Vogue Japan editorial...

...I thought, that coat is the best use of gingham I've seen in a long time, maybe even ever.  Gingham has a hard time rising to a level of being sophisticated, let alone elegant, but this coat seemed to magically defy the odds and do just that.  For a brief moment, I had no rockabilly tunes in my head, no thoughts of cowboy shirts, and no visions of tablecloths.  I had seen what gingham could be.

But a day later it all came crashing down when I saw this:

Same coat, in a campaign by the brand itself, Prada.  Suddenly, I didn't know if I even liked the coat at all.  It looked kind of cheap and out of place and...back to looking like a tablecloth.  And since Parda's runway presentation looked similar, it wasn't some mistake.

Why the brand's own marketing could misfire so horribly, while a magazine editorial gets it just right is a mystery for another blog post.  Here, I just wanted to share the lesson I take away from it:  all your planning and re-doing and even arguing during
 pre-production matters, and it matters a lot.  It's not just going through the motions, it's the difference between making clothes looks fabulous, and making them look less than they could be.

The point may be obvious, but it's also easy to forget.

The Filter Filter

Fashion editorials, being at the forefront of creativity, have used "filters" for awhile now.  And by filters I really mean post processing for a certain look.  Most of us do more--often a lot more--than just apply a preset or select a look on Instagram.

But recently, I've been noticing a trend of using different post-processing looks for individual photos within one editorial.  It used to be one look per editorial.  Not any more.

Here's a great one from Matthew Preistly and his team: "Eyes Wide Open".

And it makes perfect sense.  Editorials use wardrobe looks (and different locations sometimes) to tell a fuller, more interesting story (see related older post).  Post-processing is just the newest story element. To me, by now, the variety of looks within one editorial feels perfectly natural.  An editorial with only one look might even seem strange at this point, if only subconsciously.

But you can't just decide what filter goes with what by pulling numbers out of a hat.  You have use your brain first to decide how they're going to enhance, expand, and deepen your story.  You have to filter the filters.

Mental Contrast

The last post on urban decay reminded me of a trend in fashion photography for using old, dilapidated buildings for a location.  I've even done it myself:

Why?  For me, it means a fantastic contrast of texture.  The gritty wall makes the nice clean, smooth fabric (and skin) really pop.  Because that's what "pop" is--contrast.  And as I've mentioned before--and will again many times--contrast is everything.

I don't claim my image is much more than that.  But in other circumstances, it can or could be.  Despite its recent trendiness, using urban decay for a fashion location surprisingly goes back to the 1940s.  This one by Clifford Coffin of Wenda Parkinson is one of the earliest I know of:

And at the time it was taken, that photo had to represent a lot more than some texture contrast.  It was taken in a bombed out building in London in 1947, after Britain had won the war, but lost it's empire and financial solvency.  The building surely represented all that Britain lost, but Wenda and her beautiful dress just as surely represented a hope and desire for the future.  To me, it's one of the most poignant photos ever--fashion or otherwise.

Maybe people at the time didn't see Coffin's photos that way, I don't know and have no idea how to find out.  But I do know that thinking about it made me realize that there exists a contrast not talked about in design theory: namely, Mental Contrast (let's call it).  The idea that a photo causes two different thoughts, which combine to make the photo what it is.  In the Coffin photo, the emotions of the past contrast with hopes for the future, and together maybe spur action to carry on.

Other photos I'm sure have different mixes of Mental Contrast.  I haven't thought about it much, but plan to.

Haunted House, or Haunted Head?

Urban decay photography has been around for awhile, and I like some of it.  It's a strong, emotional genre.  It's also a powerful demonstration of how viewers bring their own thoughts and emotions to a photo, and use them to experience it for themselves in their own unique ways.

Take this photo of an old mental institution:

 



On one level, it's just some old tile and metal and porcelain.  An old building quietly falling apart.  Nothing very remarkable about that on a scientific, logical level. But on another level, it's so much more.  Infinitely more.

Most people's brains,  when seeing something this, probably flood with all kinds of thoughts from all kinds of places, dark or otherwise.  Things like what it smells like, what would they do if trapped inside it, what if they go insane and have to go to a place like that, did patients die there, were the orderlies mean to patients...and on and on.

Andi if thoughts like that aren't powerful enough for you, I don't know what is.  Maybe not all photos are equally as powerful, mostly because not all invoke the powerful emotions controlled by fear.  But all good photos do similar things in the viewers' heads; it's just that some are more forceful, others on the subtler side. 

So it's worth thinking about what kinds of emotions your photos might trigger.  It's why you're making them, after all.  I don't think you'll find a haunted house to get inside and photograph, but there are plenty of haunted heads to get inside with your images.