Recently, I had the opportunity to present my work and do a Wet Plate Collodion demonstration (I call them performative lectures) at AKV | St. Joost Art School in Breda, The Netherlands.
"Wait! I thought you were leaving Europe, Quinn?"
I'm trying! There's been confusion about when I'm leaving Europe (because of what I've said/posted). To tell you the truth, I thought I would have been gone by now. I'm not.
The process of leaving is like a roller coaster. One day, everything is in place and the next day it's all changed. It's not quite working as smoothly or as fast as I thought it would, so I'm still here. At least for a little while longer.
It's very complicated to explain, but it has to do with the economy, my own desires and hopes for what I want next and patience. So, for right now, I'm going to resume living and do what I do best. Life's too short to put it on hold.
It seems that I’m constantly returning to this theory that photography/art needs to be seen in context and that the artist needs to have some kind of intent behind the work. In fact, I would argue that the concept is more important than the images themselves (but usually includes the object in some way or the process/ritual).
This is purely opinion, and we all know what opinions are like, right? I’ve argued my position about context and intention with a lot of different people. A few people agree with my theory, however, most don’t.
Every artist can relate with the frustration of feeling like a fraud, or a fake. You might feel like the work you do is trite and clichéd – that you’re not working from an authentic place – it’s normal to feel this way occasionally if you’re serious about what you’re doing. However, most aren’t.
Some days, you might even feel like throwing in the towel; quitting and leaving all of the frustration and emotional distress behind. I’ve felt this way on more than one occasion. I try to use it as a barometer for what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. Although it’s not pleasant to go through these experiences, I think it keeps me honest – both to myself and to the viewers of my work – and that’s very important to me.
But what about people that are taking photographs and getting them exhibited, published in books, magazines or even on the web. Most have no context and certainly no intention. They’re simply random photographs made in an antiquated process or with something that’s been discontinued, or is considered “old school”. I don’t want to point to specific people or publications, but you know what I’m talking about, it’s easy to find online. The problem isn’t what’s there; the problem is what’s not there. I know I’m painting with a very broad brush here; there are a few artists that are both inspiring and impressive. However, most aren’t.
Most photographs that fit into this category are acts of randomness, an exercise in complete serendipity, or complete happenstance. Some appear as complete technical exercises, nothing more; nothing serious – nothing that the artist is actually contributing can be seen – there’s nothing wrong with that, per se. However, when it becomes a large group of photos that make no sense, or are simply copies of other people’s work, it’s a big problem. At least it is for me.
Last year, when I was in Paris, I was asked if I was worried about teaching the Wet Plate Collodion process to people and having them copy my work and my style. At the time, it struck me as an odd question, but it did resonate with me. Over the years, I see more and more images that are made in a very similar style of mine, but without any context or intention. For many years, I’ve tried to define my style and articulate my preoccupation with “the other” through photography (a very difficult thing to do). I have a long history with marginalized societies (I’m part of several), I’ve explored the questions surrounding this topic and made photographs that speak to my passion. It’s not random, it’s not a “kick” that I’m on, and it surely isn’t because the images “look cool”. It’s serious work to me and to a lot of viewers that take the time to understand the context and intention supporting it.
The only thing I would ask other artist/photographers to do is to consider context and intention in their work. Can you defend your work? Can you answer the tough questions? I try to think about my work as much as making the work. Don’t ask the viewer to figure out what you’re trying to say, that’s your job. And if you don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe you should consider spending some time to try and find out.
Sometimes we find ourselves in a place where everything is ending. Or at least it feels that way.
It’s a bitter-sweet thing. I’m in one of those places right now and wondering how it all happened so fast and what will fill the “hole” on the other side of the pond. While endings can be sad, they can also open the door to opportunities; and that’s where I have to keep my head, or at least try.
Today, I’m reflecting on leaving Europe after five years, Summer’s evolution into adulthood (the loss of “my little girl”) and just the overall loss of what I know now – my life – if you will. The year is ending, too. That’s what started me writing. I thought I could use the last day of the year as a metaphor for my life right now.
I was in my studio/darkroom yesterday and I was trying to devise a plan of where to start to break it down. It made me sad. In a lot of ways I don’t want to go back to America. In other ways, I can’t wait. It’s a roller coaster of emotions, to say the least. I walked out of my darkroom full of anxiety and didn’t touch a thing. I need to get in there today and start packing!
We’ve met and befriended some of the finest human beings on this big blue ball (you know who you are) here. Europe and the Europeans have been very good to me and my family. This has been, without question, the best part of my life. The people, the experiences and the personal and professional growth has been amazing. I’ve learned more about myself and about life in these five years than the previous forty. I hope I can take some of that back with me and am able to share it without sounding arrogant or condescending. Americans could learn a lot from Europeans, I know I have.
I’ve been treated like a king here. And I’ve been respected and acknowledged for my work. I’m afraid that I will lose that returning to the States. No one knows me and no one cares what I’ve done here. It feels like I’ll be starting over in a lot of ways. I’m okay with that; I just don’t want to keep taking one step forward and then three back.
I have to thank Centre-Iris Gallery (Olivier and Pierre) and all of the fine Parisians that supported me this year. What a wonderful experience! Merci beacoup! To have a gallery in Paris that supports you like Centre-Iris is overwhelming. I’m very grateful and will return every two years with new and exciting work to show Paris. A big thank you to our friend, Benoît Boucherot, too! He made a wonderful documentary about me (see the previous post).
To every studio, cultural center, art school and individual artists in Europe (Barcelona, Reus, Gothenburg, Budapest, Dresden, Cologne, Vienna, Glasgow, London, Amsterdam, Berlin, Brussels, and many, many more) that I’ve had the pleasure of visiting and teaching at (and there have been a lot of them); thank you! You’ve allowed me to grow and taught me more than I taught you. I’m eternally indebted to the hundreds of people that I’ve had the opportunity to meet, teach and befriend; thank you! I wish I could stay another five years.
Summer and Jesse just spent three weeks with us. They flew back yesterday and are back in America today (31 December 2010). I was able to get them in the head brace for a plate during a private workshop with Bernd Radtke. We had fun; we went to Amsterdam, Belgium (Lummen) and Aachen (Germany) to see friends and have some fun.
I miss my life here already.
Jeanne and I made a trip to Belgium over the weekend. It was very nice. The Belgian countryside is beautiful. I'll miss the small European villages; quiet, clean, great food and drink and wonderful people.
We were invited to René Smets' house to talk and to make Daguerreotypes. René is building me some Daguerreotype equipment; fuming boxes, buffing block, gilding stand and mercury pot. His designs are top-rate. And as a retired architect, this type of thing is right down his alley.
In attendance were René, his wife, Annie, Jacques and Jeroen. Our friend, Kal from Brussels made a brief appearance, too. A great group of people! Annie kept us in food and coffee as we explored René's unique setup for making Daguerreotypes.
Typically, when making Daguerreotypes, you would have two fuming boxes (iodine and bromine) and a mercury pot under a fuming hood in a darkroom. Not René, he built his fuming boxes to take a modern film holder (4x5) and fume by time. Although, you can take the holder to the darkroom and check for color. We made plates outside on his garden patio. It's a very cool system and works well.
His mercury pot (one of them) uses visual inspection for development. It has two little safe windows; one to look at the plate and one for light. With his other mercury pot, development done only by time, no visual inspection.
I brought some 4x5 plates, but we had a difficult time preparing them. I don't think we cleaned/buffed the first plate well enough. It had only a faint image. Moreover, René's iodine crystals were weak. I think that gave us problems, too. We replaced his crystals with mine (fresh/new) and voilà, the magic of the Daguerreotype! Of course, not a perfect plate, but we were working with limited time and had other things to discuss (my equipment). It was fun and rewarding.
When I return to the United States, I will be making Half Plate and Whole Plate Daguerreotypes. I'll have everything here (except a fume hood) when René completes this equipment. So I will leave Europe ready to make plates. Daguerreotypes are the first in the processes of The '39-'89 Project I'm working on now. I'm very excited about the next couple of years!
For the past four years, Wet Plate Collodion photography has taken me east to Budapest, Hungary, west to Glasgow, Scotland, north to Gothenburg, Sweden and south to Barcelona, Spain; plus many other cities in between.
I just returned from Dresden, Germany. It was probably the last Wet Plate Collodion adventure for me in Europe; at least until I return to Paris in a couple of years.
Like so many places in Europe, Dresden is a beautiful city with a lot of interesting history. I especially like the photographic history of these places. Dresden was the largest manufacturer of albumen paper in the 19th century. Albumen means “egg white”. The albumen printing process was invented by Louis Désiré Blanquart-Evrard in 1850. He was from Lille, France.
The Dresdener Albuminfabriken AG (The Dresden Albumen Manufacturing Company)
They produced 18,674 reams of albumen paper in 1888. Each ream consisted of 480 sheets 46 cm x 58 cm (~18” x ~23”) in size. To coat a ream of paper required 9 liters of albumen solution, obtained from 324 eggs; only the whites, separated by hand. All of the paper was made by women – all by hand. In 1888, this one factory consumed over six million eggs – that’s about 16,500 eggs per day! There were a lot of bakeries around making custards and other pies/pastries with all of the egg yolks, too. Can you imagine what Dresden’s collective cholesterol level was in the late 19th century?
The Dresden Museum Wet Plate Collodion Performative Lecture
I was invited by the Dresden Museum to do a Wet Plate Collodion performative lecture in conjunction with the August Kotzsch exhibition. Kotzsch was a German photographer working from the 1860s to the 1880s in Dresden/Loschwitz, Germany. He lived in that area his entire life. He mainly photographed rural German life, but wanted to be graphic artist. The exhibit shows his early drawings from the 1840s – he was quite good. He did a lot of still life work, too. His albumen prints are amazing. One of the city historians told me that Kotzsch made his own albumen paper – how strange is that and, moreover, why would he do that in Dresden?
The Dresden museum is beautiful and the Kotzsch exhibition was nothing short of that. It was an honor for me to be there talking about Kotzsch’s process and showing the people how he made his photographs.
The space they had arranged for me was perfect; large (non-UV) windows and even a sink close by. The museum is in the center of the city. People were walking by watching me turning back the hands of time with the Wet Plate Collodion process through the large windows of the museum.
There were about 25 people in the audience; the perfect size. Ernst Hirsch was one of the attendees. Ernst is a filmmaker and photographer. He is well-known and admired. I asked him to sit for the demonstration. I later learned that he made a book about Kotzsch and his work. After the lecture, he presented me with a copy of the book (August Kotzsch 1836 - 1910. Von den Anfängen der Photographie in Loschwitz bei Dresden) and a print from one of Kotzsch’s negatives. It was a very nice addition to my book collection of 19th Century photographers. Ernst owns several hundred original prints of Kotzsch’s and knows his great-great-grandson – who, by the way is a successful fine art photographer today.
I ended up making a few portraits. I had a very nice time. The trip was a great way to end the Wet Plate Collodion adventure in Europe, at least for now.
I want to thank my wife, Jeanne for taking all of the great photos, Richard for translating all of my stories and jokes during the lecture, Ernst and Cornelia for the book and print, Jan for making the trek to Dresden from Berlin, and Frank for the DVD/prints and the long conversation at the hotel about communism and photography. I learned a lot about the former East Germany and the communists.
We miss you, Summer XOXOXO
A Dresden egg. I should’ve brought some home for paper!
The afternoon produced these images.
Richard, my translator and museum coordinator for the lecture.
Richard (negative) – so he can print on modern paper.
Herr Kotzsch und Herr Jacobson, standing on the shoulders of giants…
It’s almost September! Let’s start with the most obvious change; the weather. The weather here has taken a turn for the cool. We must be entering Autumn (fall and winter are very mild here). Highs are 16-18 degrees Celsius (60s F) and lows are 8-10 degrees Celsius (40s F). It’s nice, I like it. It’s still raining a lot, but then again, when isn’t it raining here?
We’re thinking a lot about the big change coming for us and have our eyes and minds set on the northwest. I think that’s where we belong -but who knows? Right now, it looks like we should be leaving Europe around the first of the year. However, I always say everything, and I mean everything, is subject to change.
The '39-'89 Project & Exhibition: Generating Ideas
I can’t really work on the Wet Collodion part of my project here (I can research and write but I can’t make photographs for it), so I’m experimenting with some paper negatives and setting up to do some Daguerreotype work. I’ve got the Daguerreotype stuff ready to go, but that will have to wait until I’m back in the States. It’s way too much to do here – too much as in expensive/hassle, too much. The Calotypes on the other hand, are very doable here.
My goal is to setup (individual studio/darkroom space) for all three processes in the States; I call it “The 39-89 Project: The First 50 Years of Photography”. 1839 – 1889, the first fifty years of photography; Daguerreotypes, Calotypes and Wet Plate Collodion. Each process has its own aesthetic and special place in history; I’ll offer workshops in each process when I return to America.
I want to write a piece at some point about why Collodion is so popular today and why the other two processes will never gain that kind of popularity. It’s written in history, however, I want to write a contemporary piece about it. I’ve found some interesting correlations to the digital movement and would like to share those ideas in an essay.
My exhibition in 2012 (in Paris at Centre Iris) will be large Wet Plate Collodion pieces, but I’m going to do an ancillary project (technical and historical) about this period in the history of photography. I’ll include Calotypes and Daguerreotypes. It will give context to the main exhibit and it will be educational and interesting (I hope). And, it will be relevant to anyone interested in photography today (that’s kind of the point, yes?). In a way, you could say I’m doing the technical and academic work while I wait to return to the States. This “break” has been a great time to generate ideas and experiment with some things. I needed this.
Across The Pond… And Back Again
We made a trip to the States this month and really enjoyed it. We didn’t enjoy leaving our daughter, Summer, behind (for college), but we enjoyed seeing our family. It was good to see everyone and we’re really happy for Summer. She’s all settled in at Weber State University, my Alma mater, and is doing great. Europe will always be a part of us and we will return often, but I’m ready to go home.
Coming Up: Daguerreotypes & Wet Plate Collodion Performative Lecture
We’ll be going to Belgium for some Daguerreotype work the first weekend in September and then the second week, we’ll be in Dresden for a Wet Plate Collodion Performative Lecture at the City Museum. I’ll be doing some commissioned portrait work there, too.
Knife, originally uploaded by quinnjacobson.
I've been experimenting with different concepts in the form of props. Every time I do this, I find myself going back to the beginning and photographing people - particularly faces – raw and pure. That's all I'm really interested in.
In the end, what I find most interesting is "less". Less as in fewer props, fewer distractions. I'm not very good at creating an atmosphere anyway. What I can do is show the depth of a person and sometimes, I can reveal something interesting in their face or spirit.
I enjoy this the most but I question if it's because I'm "comfortable" and I'm getting lazy or if it’s still valid to work what you feel most strongly about decade after decade. For now, I’ll continue doing what drives me; the human face.
It seems I've closed one chapter of my life and am ready for the next one.
As I look back over the last year (2009/2010), I see what I've done and I'm amazed and incredibly satisfied. Having these kinds of opportunities (Paris exhibition, Archer Project, etc.) is a rare and wonderful thing.
Henry David Thoreau said, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation". For the most part, I would agree with that. They're desperate because they are clueless about their purpose. The trick is to find your passion and pursue it with everything you have. Take risks, push your boundaries, and never quit. Passion is what we need more of - and I don't mean passion as in fundamental religions or passions that hurt people. I'm talking about a personal passion - it's always a positive thing, an asset to society, not a liability. Finding out why you are here and what you're supposed to be doing with your life is what we need to be asking ourselves. For the past 10 or 15 years, maybe more, I've been preoccupied with this idea and have done my best to be honest in its pursuit.
How do you define success? Happiness? Satisfaction? Is it relative? I'm not sure. Regardless of the definition, at this moment in my life I would have to mark 9/10 in all of the categories. I feel accomplished, appreciated and am very happy. Over the last few years in Europe, I've met some of the most kind and wonderful people in the world. Every color, nationality, race and religion - all beautiful, interesting people that helped me get to this point. I can't thank them enough for the difference they've made in my life.
I've talked a lot about stepping out of the spotlight. I'm beginning that process now. Some of it will be a little bit sad for me. I'll miss doing some of the things that I've been doing for a long time. However, it's time to move on and experience the next chapter/adventure of my life. I know it's time.
My exhibition in Paris (Centre Iris) just ended. It was successful beyond words. I'm eternally grateful and thankful for Pierre, Olivier, Benoît, William, Patrick, Bruno, and all of the students in my workshops; almost thirty of you! I would also like to thank all of the sitters that came for portraits. I ended up making almost 175 portraits of Parisians over the last few months. Talk about a body of work! I heard some of the kindest comments and had the honor of making portraits of some very important people in the world of photography. Merci beacoup! It was my honor and pleasure. And finally, Jeanne and Summer, I love you! What an adventure! I could have never, ever done this without you! Hugs, kisses, and someday we'll be having some more Chinese ravioli and Japanese Sushi in Paris!
There are some wonderful things ahead for me (art/photographically). I'm looking forward to sharing them when the time is right. Summer will be starting her studies in August and we (Jeanne and I) may have some big changes ahead, too. We'll see. For right now, let's say the operative word is: CHANGE. Change is good. Change presents opportunity. Don't fear change.
One more thing; I wanted to share some images I'm sending to Washington D.C. for an exhibition. This is Benoît, a Parisian artist and filmmaker. I call this, "Three Portraits in Paris: Chopin's Left Hand". You get it, I don't need to explain it. However, the Parisian model with black eyes may be a different story...
"Three Portraits in Paris: Chopin's Left Hand", Triptych - Whole Plate Black Glass Ambrotypes
"Parisian Model With Black Eyes" - Whole Plate Black Glass Ambrotype
This is Gwen, she was the sweetest lady you could meet. I made two plates of her, I kept this one. Update: I gave this plate to a friend, Joe Baltz, a photographer and teacher in Chicago, IL.
If you would like to see a small sample of the portraits I made in Paris, you can go here. Please forgive the low quality of the images, they were “snapped” with my small digital point and shoot. There are about 150 I never got snaps of!
France 3 TV's piece about Quinn's exhibition in Paris at Centre Iris Gallery.
France 3 TV just aired this piece this week. The spot is about my exhibiton and work in the Wet Plate Collodion process. They also show a lot of images from my exhibition in Paris at the Centre Iris Gallery. It's a really good piece - very "top shelf". I'm very pleased. Enjoy!