Art Wortd Coop

Ever since I wrote an art review on David del Pilar Potes's photography, I've been very curious about the narrative aspects of photography. Potes's work inspired in me a vivid interest in the possibilities of storytelling through the digital medium. It was only by coincidence that I happened to purchase my first digital camera a day before I wrote the review.

What initially drew me to David's work, besides the remarkable photography, were the arrangements. In my interview with Potes, I asked him about his methodology and reasons for presenting photos in a linear format. He writes:

"The photos shown together help the dynamic in each group. Each photo I think helps the other photo. I've tried to maintain a rhythm in each gallery, a visual rhythm, trying to convey visual poetry almost."

"Each photo helps the other." This is what I'm interested in. I'm interested in the linear relationships between photos, how the progression of photos builds an emotional complexity, or simply carries an idea through.

I don't think I've achieved this yet with my latest set. But I'm experimenting and slowly learning the subtle art of narrative in photography.

These photos were taken over a period of a week or two, between my time spent in Normal, IL where I live, and Chicago, where I spent a short weekend for Father's Day. The two people in the restaurant are my father and sister. The man with the cat on the leash is my neighbor.

The first set of photos that I took of downtown Normal only covered half of the main street. This is the other half. Photos of the downtown area would be incomplete without pictures of Babbitt's Books, the local secondhand bookshop.

You'll also notice some construction going on. The downtown area is being completely renovated right now. Parking is horrible and the construction has affected some of the local businesses. All the store owners I talked to are looking forward to the new sidewalks that were poured today.

I woke up at four in the afternoon (because I was up all night). After checking my email, I went into Normal to take the last set of pictures. Most of the stores were closing.

In my last post, I talked about my interest in documentary photography . . . Well, I had an insight tonight about these pictures I've taken in the last two days. At first, I thought there was such a thing called "documentary photography," but now I'm starting to have my doubts.

Although these are pictures of my town, I think they reflect me more than anything. Does documentary photography really just document ourselves?

The first slideshow has a youthful, rebellious feel. I focus on headshops, skateshops, and used CD stores. The second slideshow depicts the town as nearly deserted because of the construction.

I come to the scene late, to take pictures. The workers have all gone home, except one. The giant orange equipment sits idle in the trenches.

Also, notice all the pictures of books, it's because I love reading, I love looking at books, I love holding them. And I've been in Babbitt's Books many many times. I used to go there every day.

No matter how objective we try to be, we reveal ourselves. We cannot help it. The self cannot be disguised. We represent ourselves in everything we do.

I recently bought my first digital camera. Inspired by the work of David del Pilar Potes, I decided to try my hand at some documentary photography. In particular, I'm interested in how photographs are arranged and the meaning that arises between pictures based on their linear relationship to other pictures. My background in fiction may explain this narrative approach to photography.

A single photograph will of course catch my eye; but for some reason, a gallery of photos produces a greater emotional effect. I want to know what I can do with a gallery. I can tell a story with the arrangement. . . the story can be literal, closer to an objective documentary style, or the arrangement can be more lyrical and associative, more subjective.

I also see myself as a "journalist". Not an old-school journalist, but a new media journalist. I don't work for a newspaper and I never have but my writing is hugely influenced by reading The New York Times. Combining my joy of essay writing and this new appreciation for documentary photography, I can see many possibilities for experimentation.