photography – Page 3 of 3

Outside/In

I was writing last week about the distancing effect of photography and while there’s some truth to that, it doesn’t have to be that way. In fact, it can be quite the opposite. Photography can be an effective means of entry into societies that would otherwise have been closed. The issue is what you do with the access.

Looking back, I’m disappointed that I never made more of almost complete access to the San Francisco Opera for twenty years. Several book projects were started, none completed, a portrait series never reached the critical mass necessary for publication or exhibit.

For a long time, I felt I just needed to do my assignments well and the rest would fall into place. But that is not enough, not in a creative profession and probably not in any other. What matters, what defines you, is how far you go beyond the requirements. This may be motivated by ambition, desire for recognition, passion or all three. I don’t think it matters. For career advancement or personal satisfaction, you have to find the drive to do more.

Looking ahead, I don’t intend to make that mistake again. I’ve come here to explore this place, get to know it and produce a work I value. The motivation may be any or all of those above or maybe something else that I’m not even conscious of; again, it doesn’t matter. It’s slow and frustrating, but since that’s how I’d also describe my progress learning French, I’d say there’s a strong possibility the two are related. But there is progress, I finally got Jean-Roger and Marie to sit still for an interview and I’ll keep reminding them of their promise to help with access to their families, my key to the town’s history. The book is taking shape, although a different one than I expected before I came here and the work is good. The writing is better than I anticipated and I think I’m a better photographer now than I’ve ever been. To prove it, I’ve arranged to have an exhibit in the Maison du Terroir in April.

So, to those of you who responded privately to the last post, stop worrying.

In other news, there’s snow on the hills and I still haven’t won at Bingo.

Outside

I’ve been thinking lately about the role of the outsider, since I’ve chosen to put myself in that position. It’s not the first time. Through the accident of birth and well meaning parents and educators, I found myself at the age of sixteen in a small liberal arts college in the heart of Maine. I did choose the college and I can’t give you a reason other than it looked perfect, exactly as my sixteen-year-old brain thought a college should look. What no one considered, or didn’t discuss with me, was that at sixteen I’d be two years younger than everyone else and while I might be academically capable, I’d be socially inept. Eighteen-year-old girls were very much older than me.

And New York Jews were a tiny minority indeed. I went looking for kinship in the “Jewish fraternity” only to discover the inanity of fraternity life, which sent me back on my own. I drove to San Francisco with two high school friends and decided to stay as they went on. I found a job and an apartment but made no friends. I loved the city, I walked, observed, kept a journal probably much like this one. I went back to college and lived alone, grew a beard, wore black turtlenecks, smoked unfiltered cigarettes. I had friends, but I also had a part to play.

I became a photographer. I was more comfortable with a camera between the world and me. I often photographed performance, documenting the creative efforts of others, but the best jobs came when I was not working alone, when I was part of a creative team, either in the theatre or on a documentary assignment. I loved those jobs but they were rare, there might have been ten in a forty-year career. A photographer is an observer, or to use Geoff Dyer’s word a “noticer.” You look at your subject, you look at the light, you try to make the two work together. If they don’t, you look at something else. It’s necessary to separate in order to observe, get too close and vision blurs.

And now, at a difficult time, I’ve chosen to come to a small village in France to write (a solitary pursuit) about myself and other outsiders (those who came here to make wine). I am of course an outsider here, separated by language, culture and tradition and I often feel lonely. People of the town are very friendly and polite, always saying hello, asking if things are going well (Ça va?), but they very rarely invite you to their homes. I have some friends among the expats, but they’re all much younger than me and their lives are centered on their families. I put myself in a somewhat uncomfortable place because I thought it was necessary to enable me to write this book, or because I wasn’t sure where else to go, but it turns out I’m really in the same place I’ve always been and perhaps I’ll soon learn whether what preceded was preparation or what continues is merely habit.

I’ll leave you with a link to an article entitled: “France, the World’s Most Depressed Nation?”

Visa Pour L’Image

Here’s the Place Republique in Perpignan most days:

Market in Perpignan — Market in the Place Republique, Perpignan ©2009 Ron Scherl

Like many great cities, Perpignan provides a lovely public space that serves as meeting place, living room, market and cafe for many people. The market is there most mornings and the square is surrounded by good food shops and cafes. Think of the Plaza Mayor in Madrid or the Piazza San Marco in Venice, now scale it down in size, number of tourists and architectural ambition and you have the Republique in Perpignan, a place appropriate to its setting.

Now take a look at the place in the evening during Visa Pour L’Image:

Photo of Visa crowd — Overflow crowd at Visa Pour L'Image ©2011 Ron Scherl

This is one night in a week of presentations and this is the overflow audience, those who couldn’t get in to the program at the Campo Santo. They’ve filled the plaza to watch the video broadcast of the presentation of the year’s best photojournalism. It’s astonishing to see a crowd like this paying attention to the images and paying homage to those journalists who risk everything to tell a story. I’m in awe of them and very fond of this city that welcomes and honors them.

Incredible Images, great storytelling, courage, a commitment to telling the truth, as we democratize the news and encourage citizen reporting, it’s important to remember the value of professionalism.