Mike Doughty In Frankfurt

We drove up to Frankfurt last night to see Mike Doughty. Doughty was the front-man for the band Soul Coughing in the 1990s. They were very popular (at least with the people I ran with). Do you remember the song, “Circles”? That was a Soul Coughing/Doughty tune.

He had a lot of problems with the group – he also had personal addiction problems. He quit the band, got clean and started a solo career in 2000. He’s been making outstanding music ever since.

Doughty’s a talented wordsmith, poet, and musician. He’s a true artist in my opinion. He played in a place called Nachtleben (Nightlife) in Frankfurt. Tickets were 12 Euros. The place was about 60 square meters and when Doughty started playing, there were about 15 people, six of those were us. His buddy and fellow virtuoso, Scrap Livingston accompanied him on Cello – beautiful stuff.

He speaks this fast, broken German (he’s obsessed with the German language). It was funny to watch the Germans in the audience as he said things like, “You look sexy and healthy,” auf Deutsch. Good stuff. It’s easy to trip up a German with American idioms and random sarcasm, they don’t get it.

We got to meet him after the show. He seems like a nice guy, down to earth. He could have sold out for big money and a few “pop” songs, but choose to stay independent and play for the real people. That says a lot to me.

I sent him the photos, maybe he’ll use some on his blog, I hope so. We hope his "German obsession" doesn’t go away any time soon, and that he comes back to play. If you get a chance to see him, do it, you won’t regret it – like I said, he’s a talented dude. 

Mike Doughty in Frankfurt, Germany

Mike Doughty in Frankfurt, Germany

Mike Doughty in Frankfurt, Germany

Mike Doughty in Frankfurt, Germany

Tracks Headed East

A sense of urgency overtook me today and I was able to get a couple of important photographs made. I'm exhausted right now, but elated. While I call everything an experiment, it's not exactly true. For now, however, I'm calling the work experimental.

The "train tracks" image below is something I've been meaning to try for a while. Most all of the tracks here were used, at least in some part, to transport Jews and other undesirables to either bigger train stations or directly to the concentration camps. My friend, Caron, mentioned that I should look at making some images like this - I couldn't agree more.

The feeling I get when I look at this empty, quiet image is one of anxiety. I'm waiting for a train to rip through this space headed east (the direction of this image) with cars full of people going to their death. Although, it doesn't look like it, I was very close to the tracks. It made me a little bit nervous. I shot this with my new (old) CC Harrison portrait lens - wide open - what a neo-pictorialist, huh? I was lucky to find a spot where I had access to the tracks (and schlep all of my Scheise to it). Sometimes, it's difficult doing these kinds of things. I was thinking about how I would probably be arrested in the United States for doing this... you know the whole terrorist scare thing. No one was around when I made the images. It was out of the way and "in between" towns.

"Train Tracks Headed East - Bahnhof Ahead" - 29 March 2008 - 1305 - 10x8 Black Glass Ambrotype (destroyed) - Southwestern Germany (quiet countryside). 
I'm going to keep making images of memorials, tracks, and portraits (and whatever else strikes me). I'm also going to explore making images of smokestacks. All of these symbols are very powerful to me. I have no idea how all of this is translating, or will translate, but I'll keep making images, thinking out loud, writing my thoughts and ideas down and hopefully, someday put it all together.

Viernheim Synagogue Memorial & Some Project Thoughts

I can only imagine what goes through the minds of the people watching as I make photographs in the small towns and villages here.

This morning I went out to re-photograph the Synagogue memorial in the village I live in, Viernheim. They moved the memorial (I call them gravestones - they always seem to be weeping) a couple of months ago. They also included a little sitting area and bench. It's actually a lot better.

As I setup and made preparations to make a plate, several people walked by and stared - I mean stared! One old German man, maybe 70 years-old, or more, almost tripped, as he was walking by staring. He wasn't watching where he was going. I said, "Achtung, Baby!" - I wonder if he got the reference to the U2 album, probably not.

I don't mind people watching. I'm a voyeur by profession and passion. The thing that I don't is like not knowing if they're just interested, or if they're thinking, "I would prefer that this guy go away." It feels like the latter, but I'm hopeful that it's the former.

The photograph I made this morning is gone. It made me sick, but I wiped it from the plate. This is the only "evidence" that remains of the Ambrotype. What if I made this whole project like that? What if there were no plates in the entire project, only non-tangible (digital) representations? It would be a lot like the subject matter, no?

A friend/colleague emailed me the other day asked me about my thoughts on impermanence, or ephemeral art. He's working on his M.F.A. and doing some really interesting things with chalk-screen transfers. His images are only there for a short time on a chalkboard - this theme has been explored by a lot of artists, but it keeps coming back to me, time and time again. It feels like I'm not listening.

Just as the Synagogues and people were "wiped away", I think that this method may serve the project well. I first thought about breaking the glass, destroying the images, or having Germans do that in a performance. After some thought, I decided no, that's too much. However, wiping these images  from the plates, and maybe even keeping the Collodion I wipe off as residue may be the answer I've been looking for.

You have to remember, these images are extremely beautiful when you're holding them in your hand. They're a "precious artifact" in a lot of ways.  They're also a lot of work to make - a big investment in many ways -  time, money, effort, etc. So destroying them and only keeping (digital) representations creates a sense of loss for me - a lot like how I feel when I see (memorials) representations of these beautiful Synagogues (and people) that were destroyed.

I'm going to seriously explore this some more. Right now, in this moment, I feel very strongly about it.

"Destroyed Synagogue Memorial With Apartments and Playground" 8x10 Black Glass Ambrotype - 29 March 2009 - 0923, Viernheim, Germany (I flipped this positive so you can read the text) 
Notes: The memorials seem to be "weeping" every time I photograph them. The background (apartment buildings, trees, playground, etc.) appear as a painting or drawing, unreal, if you will. The gravestone seems to be emerging from a black earth - terrible and foreboding. 

Chemical Pictures - The Cover

Chemical Pictures - The Wet Plate Collodion Photography BookI'm very happy! After many iterations, the cover of my new book and DVD is finished. Sometimes, I think over-thinking can be as bad as not thinking at all. I may have over-thought the cover, at least on the first few iterations. Remember, text out of context is a pretext. I had some "pretext-ing" going on.

I'm very happy with the results of this cover (click on it to see it bigger) and of the book and DVD. It's been a project I've been working on for years. I published one other book on the process in 2006. That was mostly for my graduate work and I didn't feel like I had adequate time to include everything that I wanted to. This work includes everything you've always wanted to know about making positive Wet Plate Collodion images and even some things that you don't want to know about. I'm very proud of this piece. It's based not only on my own personal experience working in the process for a few years, but on primary literature. Over the last two years, I read and studied every 19th and 20th century manual or book on the process I could find. I was amazed and enlightened at what I found. Not only is there everything in the old manuals that you need to learn the process (technical, formulae, etc), each photographer had their own interpretation and ideas on what worked the best. Not unlike today - there were several people who called themselves "masters" of the process. However, a lot of them had glaring flaws in their techniques and methodologies - the recipes and techniques conflicted a lot. I found it very interesting and entertaining, to say the least.

A lot of people deserve credit for this book and DVD. I've asked people all over the world to be involved in it - contributing everything from a piece on artificial lighting to collaborating on this cover - it's been a great experience and I want to thank everyone that's helped me - I'm truly thankful (and Summer will thank when she's paying her tuition, too.)

The next step: I have to make some changes (after the second editing process) and wrap up the online content (.flv files) and then wait for the printer to make my books and DVDs! Oh happy day!

Creative Image Maker Magazine (CiM)

Glass Plate Photography Edition I received an email today from David Vickers at CiM (Creative Image Maker Magazine) that the Glass Plate Photography edition was finished. I wrote a piece for it called, "Coming Alive Through An Old Process." And I submitted 12 images with the text, too.

It was surprising to see to that they gave me 10 pages and published all 12 images! The piece looks good. I hope to work with them on a regular basis regarding Wet Plate Collodion photography.

You can download the PDF for free, or purchase a printed copy (~$15 USD) the proceeds go to charity - a good cause. 

Go take a look - Glass Plate Photography - CiM

An Ambrotype Plugin for Photoshop

First of all, Happy New Year (2009)! I hope all of your dreams, goals and aspirations come to pass. Most of all, I wish you peace. It feels like we're going to need a lot of it in 2009.

Collodion and the Making of Wet-Plate Negatives I've been reading Geoffrey Batchen's book, "Each Wild Idea". I was very moved by the idea of protophotographers and the theories he proposes about the invention of photography and the identity of photography. This got me thinking (again) about wet plate and how we see it today, its past and even its future. What it all means, and why we're even interested in it. It's an ongoing thing with me, I'm still trying to get my head around it and formulate some thoughts about it - forgive me if this is redundant.

I have about ten books (technical) about the Wet Plate Collodion process. The majority of them are from the 19th century. I have one from the Eastman Kodak Company, published in 1935 called, "Collodion and the Making of Wet-Plate Negatives". It's really good, loaded with great information. I've found bits and pieces about the process here and there in various other 20th century books, like "Light and Film". That's where I found Joel Snyder a couple of years ago and his wet-plate revival work that no one has ever talked about. He responded to my email and said this:
 
Dear Quinn,

Thanks for your note.

I produced a permanent exhibition for the Department of the History of Photography of the Smithsonian Institution in 1967. I was in my mid-20s. The exhibit contained 16 examples of important photographic processes, including three forms of wet collodion. In 1976, Doug Munson and I co-founded the Chicago Albumen Works. CAW is now doing all sorts of work preserving, archiving, and replicating negatives for major institutions in the US and Europe. It has been printing in albumen, salt paper, platinum, and POP since 1976. CAW has had printing commissions from MoMA (we printed about 300 Atget negatives on albumen paper for its 4 Atget exhibits 1979-1983), the Met (NYC), etc.

I've been a historian of art at the University of Chicago since 1977. I've no idea why others have received the credit for being first to use use the collodion process in recent times, but it isn't something that concerns me. Doug and I taught ourselves to work with collodion. I was very lucky to meet John Ryan, a retired photoengraver (for R.R. Donnelley, a major printer in the US) who had used collodion for plate-making until the late 1950s. He gave me bottles of Eastman Kodak collodion and Eastman chemicals for making "hard-working" (straight iodides) and "soft working" (iodides, chlorides and bromides) collodion. Most people don't know that Eastman produced collodion for the photomechanical trade. Ryan gave me a few useful tricks for aging collodion rapidly, and for varying the acidity of silver baths in order to get variations in the properties of the sensitized collodion. I still have the bottles, tightly sealed and unused.

Best,
Joel Snyder, Professor
Department of Art History
University of Chicago

Joel Snyder's project in the book, "Light and Film".

Which brings me to my point; A long time ago, I realized that everything that we know about the wet plate collodion process today, we know because of the 19th and 20th century literature. Even the guys working in the 1920s, 30s, and 40s, used that literature. I haven't found one thing, not a thing, that I can't show you in the old manuals that's being used today - recipes, techniques, vocabulary, methodologies, etc. There's absolutely nothing new! Every one of us teaching wet plate today, is simply regurgitating what all of the photographers in the 19th century knew. We're not inventing anything new, nor are we offering anything that can't be found, for free, in the old manuals.

 "Flowing the plate with Collodion"Before you send me emails telling me I'm wrong, I know that they didn't have hair dyers, Rapid Fix, and suction cups back (or did they?) then, so I want to be clear; I mean there's nothing new in the core of the process. Yes, we have some new fancy gadgets to make things a little bit easier today, but there's nothing fundamentally different in the process at all.

That's a very cool thing to think about. Something so good, and so desirable, and yet we can't improve on it after 158 years! We can't make it obsolete! Even my computer is replaced after a couple of years! I know what you're thinking, you're saying, "C'mon Quinn, dry plates, film and now digital have all replaced the wet plate process, so your theory is bunk!" I suppose you could say that. However, I'm talking about the drive to get the same "look and feel" - the same aesthetic, and maybe even the same experience (actually going through the process). It doesn't seem to have become outdated or undesirable. Or am I just looking at this from a tiny, delusional worldview? I suppose I could be writing about Atari Pong, or some other small, obscure niche group, couldn't I? After all, that's what this is.

With today's technology, why can't we, or why won't we, replicate the aesthetic of wet plate? There's a demand for it, no doubt about that. But is there enough demand to profit from it? There are all kinds of filters and effects in Adobe Photoshop - watercolor, canvas, crosshatch (my favorite), dry brush, film grain, fresco, neon glow, plastic wrap, and a lot more - why not one for wet plate? If there was an Ambrotype Plugin for Adobe Photoshop, would you stop using the process? Or are you after something more, something beyond Photoshop?

My Personal Theory of Art

God, The Holocaust & Aerosol Cheese: Things That Are Difficult To Understand

Cheese in a can - cheddar flavor! Who are you, and who am I? Isn't that what we're trying to figure out? It's frustrating when things like money and ego get in the way of our understanding and joy. How is it that we seem so confused about what's important? Is it fear? Does fear keep us from love, peace, and joy in our lives?

It’s difficult to comprehend most things in life, especially the big things. Things like God, the Holocaust, and aerosol cheese (okay, aerosol cheese isn't big, but it's difficult to understand). It’s difficult, because most of us never give enough thought to anything to even start to understand it, let alone make any effort to research it or read other’s thoughts on it. We seem apathetic and lazy. We, mostly Americans, seem obsessed with the superficial and the innocuous, things that won’t mean anything in six months, or a year from now. I don’t believe that we don’t care or that we’re lazy, I think it’s because we’re afraid. We’re scared. We’re afraid to know. We’re afraid of getting old. We’re afraid of getting fat. We’re afraid of going grey. We’re afraid that we’re not smart enough, good looking enough, thin enough, rich enough, strong enough, desirable enough, healthy enough, funny enough, never enough, enough, etc. etc. We’re afraid. And we do crazy things to hide and disguise that fear so we never have to face it.

Think about the pressure we feel to live up to other people’s expectations. Like the pressure to buy a big, beautiful house that we can’t afford or a nice, new car that we don’t really need. Things that we put a lot of “ourselves” into, at the very least, things that we anchor some portion of identity to. Think about what that means – saying that a big house or a new car is “me”, or that they represent “me”, is repulsive when you think about it. However, the need to say, “Look, I’m good enough, see!” is overwhelming and powerful.

How about the power of having money, that’s a big one. It’s sad, you could say you scrubbed toilets for a living but got paid $250,000 a year for it and people would be asking, “How do you qualify for that kind of job?” and, “Where can I apply?”.

We seem overly eager and very willing to sell out and prostitute ourselves for money. We’ll work at a job we hate for 20 or 30 years and be miserable every day, but we never really give our passions or our dreams a chance. Why is that? Do we still believe what our parents told us growing up? “You should be a doctor or lawyer; those professions earn a lot of money!” They said that because they were close enough to the “Great Depression” that they still carry all of that angst and anxiety and aren’t afraid to share it with us. Just because they never followed their dreams, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t follow ours.

I’m tired of being afraid. It’s back in the air now, credit crisis, bad economy, etc. We moved from the fear of terrorists to the fear of having no job. I’m tired of it. I want peace and joy back into my life and I want to follow my passions and dreams.

Pursue your passion, not your pension!

The Transports

Train tracks in DachauMy friend, Caron, gave me a great idea for my Kristallnacht project. She suggested that I make images of train tracks and stations that were instrumental in moving Jews to the concentration camps. "The Final Solution" could not have happened without the railways, without the trains making the mass transport possible. The Germans sent 30,000 Jewish men to Dachau and Sachsenhausen on Kristallnacht by way of trains.

The photo on the left is one I snapped at Dachau one year ago (December 2007). I remember thinking, "These are the rails that carried all of those people to their death". It was profoundly sad and visually striking to me.

This is a very insightful and interesting idea on many levels. It resonates with me simply for the fact of how much we us railroad metaphors and how they take on a whole new meaning here in Germany. For example, "derailed"or "derailing", "track wreck", "just the ticket", "off track", "one track mind", "railroaded", "fast track", "express", "letting off steam", "blowing your stack", "tunnel vision", "bells and whistles" and "end of the line". I see trains here in that kind of context.

The transports were usually cattle cars. At times, the floor of the car had a layer of quick lime which burned the feet of the human cargo. There was no water. There was no food. There was no toilet, no ventilation. Some boxcars had up to 150 people stuffed into them. It did not matter if it was summer, winter, boiling hot or freezing cold. And an average transport took about four and a half days. Sometimes the Germans did not have enough cars to make it worth their while to do a major shipment of Jews to the camps, so the victims were stuck in a switching yard - "standing room only" - for two and a half days. The longest transport, from Corfu, took 18 days. When the train got to the camps and the doors were opened, and everyone was dead.

Let The Video Podcasting Begin!

"I can't be everywhere, all the time! Or, can I?"

I'm going to immerse myself into online education. Not as a student, but as a teacher. I have this (brilliant?) idea to teach Wet Plate Collodion via video podcasts. And it's not only to educate, but to also build community.

I've fallen big-time for audio podcasts over the last few years. I have a whole heap of them that I listen to almost daily. Ira Glass, "This American Life", Joe Frank's radio show, Bill Moyers, Bill Maher's HBO piece, NPR bits and pieces, etc. I'm amazed at the amount of information we take in. Sometimes, I think my head is going to explode. There's never a dull moment in the 21st century, is there? Remind me to tell you about the Ira Glass story about building a better mouse trap - OMG! You'll freak!! I digress.

My theory is that if we use this technology the right way, everyone wins. Not to get off into politics, but look at the presidential election. It was all about Barack's presence online and especially the email campaigns his staff organized and executed. I for one, am very happy they could reach so many and that so many responded, as I said in a previous post, we have a chance! I digress, again.

I'm home for a while now and will be finishing up my new book and completing the video workshop series on Wet Plate Collodion. I'm being quite anal about the text and information in these publications. I'm trying real hard to listen to what people want to learn and write about it in an articulate, "easy" way. The last book (2006) was "sky-blue" stuff... nothing to go off of but instinct and my own experience, it was just the basics. This time, I have a lot to say about the history of the process as it applies to my work and, moreover, all kinds of new, modern gadgets and tricks to use in the process to make it easier. I'm psyched about it.

On January 1, 2009 (or a few days before), I'm going to allow access to a large amount of video data on the Wet Plate Collodion process. This will be the very first complete workshop online. It will be a series of "on demand" videos broken down into chapters. Subscribers will be able to view them anytime they login, jump to any part and watch them as much as they want. It's going to be uber cool!

It's about time, really. I get at least 4 -5 emails a week, sometimes more, asking about resources to learn the process. I hope to accomplish several things by doing this. One of the big ones is to quickly and easily point people to a high-quality, cost effective way to learn the process. This will be so sweet.

There are a few places in the United States where you can learn the process, but more and more, people are using the web to gather information and communicate about it. There are a lot of people that learn it on their own now. This is in large part due to the massive amount of information online now. My Wet Plate Collodion forum board has over 500 members and almost 15,000 posts. It's posted to daily. My point is that it's about time I do this. I know that it will be successful and fulfill a huge need out there. Not to mention, it will be fun as hell to do.

So, if you are interested in learning the Wet Plate Collodion photographic process and have $99 bucks, on January 1, 2009 go to The Contemporary Wet Plate Collodion School and signup! Within a couple of minutes you'll be watching videos and learning the process! See you in class!