"Howard, I'm a parasite. I've been a parasite all my life. You designed my best projects at Stanton. You designed the first house I ever built. You designed the Cosmo-Slotnick Building. I have fed on you and on all the men like you who lived before we were born. the men who designed the Parthenon, the Gothic cathedrals, the first skyscrapers. If they hadn't existed, I wouldn't have known how to put stone on stone. I have taken that which was not mine and given nothing in return. I had nothing t give. This is not an act, Howard, and I'm very conscious of hat I'm saying. And I came here to ask you to save me again. If you wish to throw me out do it now...Howard...I brought something to show you...I haven't shown it to anyone. Not to mother or Ellsworth Toohey... I just want you to tell me if there's any..." he handed to Roark sixe of his canvases. Roark looked at them, one after another. He took a longer time than he needed. When he could trust himself to lift his eyes, he shook his head in silent answer to the word Keating had not pronounced. "It's too late PEter," he said gently. he had never felt this before-not when Henry Cameron collapsed in the office at his feet, not when he saw Steven Mallory sobbing on a bed before him. Thos moments had been clean. But this was pity-this complete awareness of a man without worth or hope, this sense of finality, of the not to be redeemed. There was shame in this feeling-his own shame that he should have to pronounce such judgement upon a man, that he should know an emotion which contained no shred of respect. This is pity, he thought, and then he lefted his head in wonder. He thought that there must be something terribly wrong with a world in which this monstrous feeling is called virtue."
-Ayn Rand, "The Fountainhead"
3/3/11
In Stravinsky’s, Poetics of Music in the Form of Six Lessons he talks about the same issues, but not with words or pictures, but with music.
He describes how when he sits down at the piano to compose, he has total fear and is overwhelmed with an uneasiness of where to begin. Everything and nothing is possible.
It is only after he has picked the key and various other musical constraints, does he begin to feel liberated, and the notes begin to flow more graciously. Freedom comes only from constraint, and from the choices one makes. It is at this point the slow process of exposing the peculiar and real you begins to emerge. As you delve deeper into making decisions, from deciding for and against choices, you find this thing called your voice.
-Rodney Smith
He describes how when he sits down at the piano to compose, he has total fear and is overwhelmed with an uneasiness of where to begin. Everything and nothing is possible.
It is only after he has picked the key and various other musical constraints, does he begin to feel liberated, and the notes begin to flow more graciously. Freedom comes only from constraint, and from the choices one makes. It is at this point the slow process of exposing the peculiar and real you begins to emerge. As you delve deeper into making decisions, from deciding for and against choices, you find this thing called your voice.
-Rodney Smith
2/22/11
2/20/11
2/14/11
As I have been taking portraits for the CFA at the UA I have run into easy and not so easy subjects. Rodney Smith really brings it home in his latest blog:
The following is an excerpt from photographer Rodney Smith's blog, here is a link to his site: http://rodneysmith.com/blog/
"In the early 1980′s I found myself among the people I most wanted to avoid, when I was younger. Despite my insistence that I wanted nothing to do with the corporate world, here I was right smack in the middle with the master’s of the universe, and to my surprise and amusement, I found I loved it.
Despite all the problems with my father and the years of escaping to the impoverished world he couldn’t understand or control, I found that I was able to stand beside these men (as at that time it was 90% men) and feel not only comfortable, but some part of me felt right at home.
I guess I understood them, wasn’t intimidated by them, and in fact found myself defending them against a society that both admired and loathed them. I found some loathsome, but many I found were valiant and distinguished. I guess in my fashion I tried to expose their nobility.
I had tried the same with people of no means, and now it was time to find the hidden goodness, or at least a part of these men the public face never showed.
This is another story without a picture. Not because I didn’t take one, I did, but I think it best for me, and for him, not to reveal his identity. In this case, I think it is best to protect the guilty.
This is a story about risk, GREAT RISK. I wasn’t putting myself in harm’s way (although in a way I was). It’s a story of what I find lacking in most people’s portraits. Not their ability, but their emotional courage.
With this introduction, I must digress for a second and explain my methodology and my tactics with dealing with these men.
The scenario goes something like this, their secretary, or marketing director, or creative director of the agency would advise me that I had 3o minutes to photograph a certain CEO.
I learned quickly to simply smile and off to the races I would go. I would try to set up a meeting with the CEO a week before the shoot. This sounds easy, but at times was next to impossible. Who was I, this insignificant, unimportant photographer wanting some precious time with the king? They’re protected or flanked in every direction by people whose job it is to protect these men from meddling people like myself.
After a while, I did get good at this and often found ingenious ways to circumvent these guards and found ways to meet with the man of the hour and convince him to forget the notion of a thirty minute picture and give me a day or two. I must admit almost 90% of the time it worked, and next week I will tell you more, but now I must tell you about a time it did not.
As you might expect, one of the times I was unable to plow through the linebackers and get to the CEO, was with a real master of the financial universe, a moneyman extraordinaire, a man whom a few million here or a few million there was decided like choosing between French toast or pancakes.
These were generally the people I liked the least. They made nothing but moved money around and used their brilliance to outwit the world and their competitors. In my mind, they generally did not add to the general good that drove American enterprise but there were exceptions to this and perhaps, in retrospect, this was just too simple a model either to believe or to be true.
So back to my story, despite all my protestations I never was able to meet this man prior to the shoot.
The morning of the shoot, he walked in and quickly announced to me, and the 20 to 30 underlings who also were in the room, in a gruff and emphatic voice, “Let’s get this over with as soon as possible.”
As usual everyone was very nervous. The agency representatives that hired me could lose the account and therefore their jobs. The marketing director could lose his job for hiring the agency that hired me, and so on. Everyone looked in control, but in fact everyone was totally out of control. What would happen next? All the underlings agreed inside, “Let’s get this over with as fast as possible, so he will be happy. And we can all go back to our bagels and make some more money.”
I said fine to him, directed him slightly and took one frame and announced, “Were done. It’s finished.” Everyone in the room froze with fear. He then said to me quizzically, with a smile on his face, “We’re finished?” He was surprised how easy it was to win the battle.
I said, “Yes. I have a competent picture of you. You get what you put into this. I am ready to invest my soul into this portrait of you, to work as hard as I can, are you? You have a picture that represents your commitment. It’s fine and should work well enough for your needs.”
Everyone was wide-awake now. Our man said this is great! We’re finished. Thank you. And off he went. Everyone left in the room didn’t know if they should celebrate and eat lunch for two or if they would be returning to eviction notices.
As I was packing up with my assistants and just about to go to the elevator to leave a secretary came running up to me and says our man of the second would like to see me in his office. I went to his office and he immediately started showing me pictures of his various homes. At first I had no idea what was going on. As we didn’t know each other well enough to vacation together, but in reality it turned out he was showing me places that he could spend time with me, and wanted to know where I would like to take his portrait.
So you see, the moral of this story is not about him or me; it’s about the picture. How important is it to you? How much are you willing to invest to fight for it, to protect it? And most of all, how much are you willing to risk?"
-Rodney Smith
The following is an excerpt from photographer Rodney Smith's blog, here is a link to his site: http://rodneysmith.com/blog/
"In the early 1980′s I found myself among the people I most wanted to avoid, when I was younger. Despite my insistence that I wanted nothing to do with the corporate world, here I was right smack in the middle with the master’s of the universe, and to my surprise and amusement, I found I loved it.
Despite all the problems with my father and the years of escaping to the impoverished world he couldn’t understand or control, I found that I was able to stand beside these men (as at that time it was 90% men) and feel not only comfortable, but some part of me felt right at home.
I guess I understood them, wasn’t intimidated by them, and in fact found myself defending them against a society that both admired and loathed them. I found some loathsome, but many I found were valiant and distinguished. I guess in my fashion I tried to expose their nobility.
I had tried the same with people of no means, and now it was time to find the hidden goodness, or at least a part of these men the public face never showed.
This is another story without a picture. Not because I didn’t take one, I did, but I think it best for me, and for him, not to reveal his identity. In this case, I think it is best to protect the guilty.
This is a story about risk, GREAT RISK. I wasn’t putting myself in harm’s way (although in a way I was). It’s a story of what I find lacking in most people’s portraits. Not their ability, but their emotional courage.
With this introduction, I must digress for a second and explain my methodology and my tactics with dealing with these men.
The scenario goes something like this, their secretary, or marketing director, or creative director of the agency would advise me that I had 3o minutes to photograph a certain CEO.
I learned quickly to simply smile and off to the races I would go. I would try to set up a meeting with the CEO a week before the shoot. This sounds easy, but at times was next to impossible. Who was I, this insignificant, unimportant photographer wanting some precious time with the king? They’re protected or flanked in every direction by people whose job it is to protect these men from meddling people like myself.
After a while, I did get good at this and often found ingenious ways to circumvent these guards and found ways to meet with the man of the hour and convince him to forget the notion of a thirty minute picture and give me a day or two. I must admit almost 90% of the time it worked, and next week I will tell you more, but now I must tell you about a time it did not.
As you might expect, one of the times I was unable to plow through the linebackers and get to the CEO, was with a real master of the financial universe, a moneyman extraordinaire, a man whom a few million here or a few million there was decided like choosing between French toast or pancakes.
These were generally the people I liked the least. They made nothing but moved money around and used their brilliance to outwit the world and their competitors. In my mind, they generally did not add to the general good that drove American enterprise but there were exceptions to this and perhaps, in retrospect, this was just too simple a model either to believe or to be true.
So back to my story, despite all my protestations I never was able to meet this man prior to the shoot.
The morning of the shoot, he walked in and quickly announced to me, and the 20 to 30 underlings who also were in the room, in a gruff and emphatic voice, “Let’s get this over with as soon as possible.”
As usual everyone was very nervous. The agency representatives that hired me could lose the account and therefore their jobs. The marketing director could lose his job for hiring the agency that hired me, and so on. Everyone looked in control, but in fact everyone was totally out of control. What would happen next? All the underlings agreed inside, “Let’s get this over with as fast as possible, so he will be happy. And we can all go back to our bagels and make some more money.”
I said fine to him, directed him slightly and took one frame and announced, “Were done. It’s finished.” Everyone in the room froze with fear. He then said to me quizzically, with a smile on his face, “We’re finished?” He was surprised how easy it was to win the battle.
I said, “Yes. I have a competent picture of you. You get what you put into this. I am ready to invest my soul into this portrait of you, to work as hard as I can, are you? You have a picture that represents your commitment. It’s fine and should work well enough for your needs.”
Everyone was wide-awake now. Our man said this is great! We’re finished. Thank you. And off he went. Everyone left in the room didn’t know if they should celebrate and eat lunch for two or if they would be returning to eviction notices.
As I was packing up with my assistants and just about to go to the elevator to leave a secretary came running up to me and says our man of the second would like to see me in his office. I went to his office and he immediately started showing me pictures of his various homes. At first I had no idea what was going on. As we didn’t know each other well enough to vacation together, but in reality it turned out he was showing me places that he could spend time with me, and wanted to know where I would like to take his portrait.
So you see, the moral of this story is not about him or me; it’s about the picture. How important is it to you? How much are you willing to invest to fight for it, to protect it? And most of all, how much are you willing to risk?"
-Rodney Smith
2/13/11
This thursday my friend Chris Young is performing at the Rialto Theater with Big Sean. Chris has come a long way from being a pledge with me freshman year. It's pretty sweet to see your friends succeed at something they're good at.
We shot his album cover last semester and I'm proud to now see it up. Cream & Sugar is going to be a great album.
2/9/11
2/7/11
THIS ONE IS FOR YOU MOM
My semester project. My friend Lauren is helping me as the model and my mom was willing enough to provide me with her Pan Am Uniform from the late 60's early 70's. I'd get into the meaning of it all, but I'd rather you just enjoy the photographs. Wait for more to come...
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