sapient iguana: September 2008

Stephen Shore

I recently acquired Stephen Shore's new book, A Road Trip Journal which replicates his journal and all photographs taken on two road trips in the early '70s that led to his famous book, Uncommon Places. (Read more about A Road Trip Journal.)

A thing that has struck me is how few photographs he took in order to make Uncommon Places - a book which is now seen as seminal in the tradition of photography of the mundane / everyday.

If I am to believe A Road Trip Journal every single one of the large format photographs he took on his journey is reproduced. Sometimes he took five or six shots in a day, sometimes 15 or 20, sometimes none at all. It seems he didn't do any bracketing (he got the exposure right every time!), he didn't waste film taking more than one shot (except where it's obvious he knocked the tripod in a night shot), and amazingly in most instances he didn't take more than one shot of individuals he was photographing... And yet from this frugality of picture-making he managed to produce Uncommon Places.

It puts the regular snap-happy 35mm/small format photographer (and medium format photographer, for that matter) to shame. I'm not jealous; I'm in awe of the great man! (Although it is slightly heartening to see he's made the same mistake as I've made with large format - accidentally using the same sheet of film twice).

It's a fascinating insight into the modus operendi of this photographer. He shows how it should be done.

To finish, a few images from a recent trip to Whitstable (which in no way compare with Stephen Shore, but which no doubt are influenced by him, amongst lots of others).

Max Dupain in London

My favourite boozer is an old lawn bowls club in SW London. It's huge, with big old and tatty leather armchairs, gargantuan snooker tables and other assorted wobbly furniture. It's filled with old trophies, ornaments and assorted detritus from its previous incarnation as a sporting club for old geezers. (Why is lawn bowling only ever practised by older folk?)

In the entrance to the gents there's an old poster for a Max Dupain exhibition, replete with his iconic Sunbather.

It still surprises me to see this image in this context; this bit of iconic Australian vernacular in the entrance to the dunnies of an old bowls club in London. What is it doing here? It creates a dissonance which jolts me home and reminds me I'm out of place, regardless of the fact I've lived in London for over six years. I love that a photograph can have such an effect - it can remind me who I am and where I am and prompt me to question, why am I here?

Last Stockholm post

I've had a happy productive day (a) playing squash and (b) scanning photographs. My Stockholm 35mm photos at last. Below, a couple having a fag in the rain with their seductive Swedish raincoats:

Mi amor, having yet another cigarette:

And a shop dedicated to the exclamation made by someone who is very cold:

The posts below (uploaded earlier but cannily positioned after this particular post) present a few random images I took in Stockholm which tickled my fancy. Feel free to leave comments!