Processbook by Mollie Marie Mytinger

LEADING GRID PROCESS BOOK

VISC 202 FALL 2017 MOLLIE MYTINGER

FEATURED PHOTOGRAPHER

1500 WORD FILLER TEXT ON:

David Hilliard David received his BFA from the Massachusetts College of Art & Design and MFA from the Yale University School of Art. He worked for many years as an assistant professor at Yale University where he also directed the undergraduate photo department. He is a regular visiting faculty at Harvard University, the School of the Museum of Fine Arts Boston, Massachusetts College of Art & Design and Lesley University College of Art & Design. David also leads a variety of summer photography workshops throughout the country. HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE FOR YOU TO SET UP THE PHOTOGRAPHS? There’s no recipe. Some are preconceived: I have an idea and I build or find a location and I make the photograph, and sometimes it’s the recreation of a moment or an illustration of an idea. And other times, like if I had time right now and I were with you and I had my camera, it’s the newness of somebody in nice light…. The photographs are rectangular. They’re not panoramic; I’m not cutting up a negative. So when you see a photograph, that’s three pieces. WHY ARE YOU SHOOTING SEPARATE PIECES? Because they are actually separate moments, with shifting time, with shifting focus. The way the written word, storytelling, works: language. The way a cinematic camera works: je-je-je-je-jer. And so all of that is not about formally breaking them up…. Sometimes I’ll give a lecture on my work and someone will say, why are you cutting up your negatives? I’m like, no, they’re like separate moments. Your day, our day, are separate moments of time, that if laid out, would look like that: boomboomboomboom. So it’s about finding these moments, and acknowledging them, and editing them down to the best moments. BUT IT’S ALSO THAT [IN YOUR WORK], EVEN WHILE EACH MOMENT CAN EXIST ON ITS OWN, THE MOMENTS ARE ALL RESIDUES OF EACH OTHER; EACH IS VISIBLE IN THE OTHERS. Right. I do think of each one as its own moment, but they are all touching upon each other. Each moment in my life and yours is rubbing shoulders with the previous one and the next. And that’s what’s happening in my work…. Moments rubbing up against other moments. Really sensual, if you think about it—life and art. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN THE FACT THAT WE DON’T TALK ABOUT IT? Yeah, sure. And in especially my case—in my political statement as a gay man, it isn’t important that my work always be about that—but it is important that the audience knows that these images were made by the lenses of a gay man…. My work is about intimate relationships: the ones that I share, the ones that a heterosexual might share, the ones that a different culture might share…. I am very interested in the nuances of maleness…. And also being lower middle class. Growing up in New England and growing up poor. So there’s a lot of biography, [a] lot of autobiography in the work. YOU DO FREQUENTLY EXPOSE THE HUMAN BODY, BUT IT’S NOT A SENSUALITY THAT’S COMFORTABLE WITH ITSELF. Right, and there’s a kind of quiet, a discomfort, and a celebration at the same time…. It’s part of our lives, and we don’t always talk about it.

TO WHAT DEGREE DO YOU PUT YOURSELF IN THE PHOTOS? There was a time when, I think as a young artist I felt that if my work were about me, I had to be in all of the pictures. [But] I realized, and it was so obvious, that the work was always about me. And it was easier to step out of the frame and find other people; there were surrogates for myself, or other people who are more like me, or unlike me. So the [photographs] became more about me once I stopped being in them…. I still occasionally seep into some of my work, but with more forethought about why I need to be there. YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT HOW THERE’S DIFFERENT KINDS OF INTIMACY BETWEEN PEOPLE IN YOUR WORK. IS THERE A KIND OF INTIMACY THAT THEY HAVE WITH THE ENVIRONMENT? THE ENVIRONMENT FIGURES IN YOUR WORK VERY PROMINENTLY; THERE’LL BE ENTIRE PANELS WITH NO PEOPLE. I am interested in environmental portraiture. How does our environment act on your subject, your sitter, in the photograph? And vice versa. What does your sitter bring to the environment? So there’s this dialogue that goes on when we look at photographs. It matters where somebody is in the picture. I like to question that. Sometimes it makes sense and sometimes it doesn’t. There can be irony; this person really doesn’t belong in that setting, and it does change, switch up the read of the photograph.

The narrative element in Hilliard’s photography came from three influences. “For starters, as a kid I was raised in front of television. Second, in high school, living in Lowell, Massachusetts, I became involved with a local professional theater. That was probably my first introduction to anything truly artistic. Then third, I discovered Hitchcock, Orson Welles, Peter Greenaway, Merchant and Ivory, Scorcese, and my beloved Coen brothers, and became swept away by poignant storytelling and breathtaking imagery in the movies. In college I first thought I’d be a film major, but soon learned that the ‘responsibility’ of that much footage was not for me. What I really loved was the pointed still moment within films, the static signifiers.”

With its broad sweep of images from bicycles fallen on the grass to teenagers swimming in a forest stream, it creates a bucolic mood. Yet the eye is stopped by the young man in the center panel, his back to the camera, sitting slightly slumped to one side of the stream apart from the others, which intrudes an altogether different note into the idyll. As Hilliard explained to Aletti: “Maybe this kid is with the other kids, maybe he’s not. He’s looking down. He’s just not in the moment. He’s not able to be with those boys, for whatever reason.…” In other words, the sense of being an “outsider” has made itself felt, which draws the viewer back to memories nearly everyone has had of not quite fitting in with one’s social world.

Of course signifiers always point to or hint at something, and that is part of what makes Hilliard’s photography so arresting to the eye. It doesn’t tell a story outright, like a TV show, stage production, or movie. Instead it opens the imagination to possible narratives by inviting viewers to bring their own personal experience into interaction with the photographic images.

Clearly Hilliard is drawing on his own personal memories for the feelings he expresses in this montage. And in other work he draws on his personal experiences, fantasies, and relationships. Two notable examples: No More Tears, an homage to his mother and her continuing passion for life into advanced age, and Rock Bottom, a father-son portrait like no other you’ll see, which captures a wistful closeness between two men who, whatever their differences, feel a deep bond with each other. As Hilliard noted in the interview for this article: “In the end, all of the images play into a kind of photographic philosophy/personal history.”

In much of his work, he helps this process through the use of horizontal or vertical photographic panels that provide panoramic scenes, which tend to draw viewers in as participants, rather than single shots that delimit images, which tend to separate viewers out as observers. A perfect example: his photographic montage Swimmers. This triptych is obviously a nod toward two famous Thomas Eakins’ paintings, The Swimming Hole and Swimming—as Hilliard admitted to photography critic Vince Aletti in the 2005 monograph on his work, David Hilliard: Photographs.

At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we age, we enter the twilight of limitless possibility. Despite our best intentions, we accept that there are fewer possible selves. But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? What future remains? These are the questions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emotionally charged and verdant compositions. Having grown up part of a progressive working-class family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his footing as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by ideas of masculinity, identity and relationships and quickly turned to that in his work. “There’s a lot of photographs about men, myself, strangers, the man I am, the man I’m not, the man I want to be, the man I want but can’t have,” Mr. Hilliard said. During his formative years as an undergraduate at Massachusetts College of Art, he studied under luminaries like Abelardo Morell, Nick Nixon and Barbara Bosworth, all of whom inspired him to explore his personal life — and his sensitive side — in his work. During class with Ms. Bosworth, students were encouraged to cry as she read poetry aloud. While there, he began documenting his relationship with his father. Images of Mr. Hilliard’s father, whom he describes as a “complete leftie atheist,” portray a complex figure grappling with mortality and the unknown. In contrast, his mother is a born-again, evangelical Christian. Images of her and her new husband, which feature in Mr. Hilliard’s later work, are hermetic, portraying the two of them flirting with some platonic ideal. While getting his M.F.A. at Yale, Gregory Crewdson, Tod Papageorge and others pushed him to continue working in this vein, and it was there that Mr. Hilliard honed the lush, multipanel images that would become his signature. Meant to evoke a cinematic experience by “creating runs of pictures that lived as a hybrid between photography and film,” Mr. Hilliard’s tableaux use the mechanics of his view camera to shift time, focus and viewing planes into sometimes jarring, yet strangely gratifying, combinations.sion of a disease...a little more loaded.

PHOTOGRAPHS

WORD LIST 4x5 camera, family, gay, triptychs, panorama, fluid, vivid, lush, INTIMATE, vibrant, life, yale, theatrical, honor, NARRATIVE, contemporary, ,

gripping, well crafted, people, detailed, outdoors, panels, nudity, staged, poetic, sexuality, balanced, emotional, provoking, metaphorical, haunting, touching,

playful, large, complex, rich, masculinitwy, IDENTITY, relationships, cinematic, gratifying, exotic, PERSONAL, comical professional clean, fiction,

INTIMATE: Closely acquainted; familiar, close. NARRATIVE: A spoken or written account of connected events; a story. IDENTITY: The fact of being who or what a person or thing is. PERSONAL: Of, affecting, or belonging to a particular person rather than to anyone else. EMOTIONAL: (of a person) having feelings that are easily excited and openly displayed. PROVOKING: Giving rise to the specified reaction or emotion.

QUOTES “I do my best work when it’s personal.” “The photographs are visual possibilities of what could be, what might have been, what I’d like to be.” “Holding onto things before they could be taken away” “It’s like pinning a butterfly to a wall.”

WORD COMBINATIONS Comtemporaty Panarama

Vivid Narative

Personal Fiction

Detailed Relationships

Intimate Life

Gripping Identity

ARTICLE TITLE PHOTOGRAPHY AS A MARKER PERSONAL MOMENTS

INTENSELY PERSONAL PINNING A BUTTERFLY TO A WALL.

FUNCTION ON THIS PLANET UNDERSTANDING THE HISTORY OF PORTRAITS

STEP ONE Personal Moments

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

Intimate Life

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

Identity

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

STEP TWO PERSONAL MOMENTS

intimate LIFE PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

IDENTITY the work of David Hilliard

PERSONAL MOMENTS

INTIMATE LIFE

IDENTITY

the work of David Hilliard

Photography by David Hilliard

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

personal moments

INTIMATE LIFE

IDENTITY

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

PERSONAL MOMENTS

INTIMATE LIFE

IDENTITY

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

photography by david hilliard

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

PERSONAL MOMENTS

INTIMATE LIFE

IDENTITY

the work of David Hilliard

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

PERSONAL MOMENTS

INTIMATE LIFE

identity

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

photography by david hilliard

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

PERSONAL MOMENTS

intimate life

IDENTITY

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

Personal Moments

INTIMATE LIFE

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

the work of David Hilliard

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

IDENTITY

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

photography by DAVID HILLIARD

PERSONAL MOMENTS

INTIMATE LIFE

IDENTITY

the work of david hilliard

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

the work of david hilliard

personal moments

INTIMATE LIFE

Identity

the work of david hilliard

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

The Work of David Hilliard

STEP THREE PERSONAL MOMENTS

intimate LIFE PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

PERSONAL MOMENTS THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

iDENTiTY the work of David Hilliard

INTIMATE LIFE

IDENTITY THE WO R K O F DAV ID HIL L IA R D

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

personal moments THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

PERSONAL MOMENTS THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

INTIMATE LIFE

P H OTO G R A P H Y BY DAV I D H I L L I A R D

INTIMATE LIFE photography by david hilliard

PERSONAL MOMENTS

ITIMATE LIFE

PERSONAL MOMENTS

NTMATE LIFE

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

PERSONAL MOMENTS THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

M O PERSONAL M THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD E N T S

photography by david hilliard

intimate life PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

IDENTITY THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

IDENTITY THE

WORK

DAVID

HILLIARD

identity THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

IDENTITY THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

RICHARD AVEDON BORN in 1923 to a Jewish retail family, Avedon’s interest in photography developed early. His father showed him how cameras worked and the many family group portraits taken when he was a boy gave him a sense for the importance of presentation. In later life he recalled how his family “dressed” their photographs with dogs borrowed from friends and relatives, and shot them in doorways or in front of cars, none of which were theirs. His grandparents lived in an apartment block where the famed composer Rachmaninoff lived and as a boy, Avedon “stalked” him, determined to photograph the great man. It was an early manifestation of his determination that, aged ten, he got his photograph — with his Kodak Box Brownie. As World War Two loomed, on the advice of a friend, Avedon joined the United States Merchant Marine in order to avoid the draft. His task was to photograph the men for their ID cards — mug shots, in fact — and he once claimed to have taken “pictures of maybe one hundred thousand baffled faces” before it occurred to him that he was becoming a photographer. Released from service in 1944, Avedon attended the New School for Social Research and met Alexey Brodovitch, who taught classes there and whose pupils included Diane Arbus and Eve Arnold. Impressed with the 23-year-old Avedon’s work, he began to give him small commissions for Junior Bazaar. Brodovitch surely saw Avedon’s unique quality. Even as a young, aspiring photographer his contemporaries noted his bold attitude and risk-taking in scale and imagery. And it stayed with him for his entire working life. People who were part of his teams over the years recall how his energetic imagination gave birth to arresting images, whether portraits, such as the uniquely telling one he shot of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, or in his many fashion shoots sparkling with life and originality. As World War Two loomed, on the advice of a friend, Avedon joined the United States Merchant Marine in order to avoid the draft. His task was to photograph the men for their ID cards — mug shots, in fact — and he once claimed to have taken “pictures of maybe one hundred thousand baffled faces” before it occurred to him that he was becoming a photographer. Released from service in 1944, Avedon attended the New School for Social Research and met Alexey Brodovitch, who taught classes there and whose pupils included Diane Arbus and Eve Arnold. Impressed with the 23-year-old Avedon’s work, he began to give him small commissions for Junior Bazaar. Brodovitch surely saw Avedon’s unique quality. Even as a young, aspiring photographer his contemporaries noted his bold attitude and risk-taking in scale and imagery. And it stayed with him for his entire working life. People who were part of his teams over the years recall how his energetic imagination gave birth to arresting images, whether portraits, such as the uniquely telling one he shot of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, or in his many fashion shoots sparkling with life and originality. What he brought to all his work was an intellectual curiosity rarely seen in the fashion world.

He had an enquiring mind: as a theatre buff he would often go to the same play over and over again until he fully understood it on all levels. His favourite authors were Proust, Beckett and Chekhov; he adored Goya for his attention to detail; Soutine for the earthy paint texture and Modigliani for his boldness of scale. A fan of Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, he also admired and championed Samuel Beckett throughout his entire life. He is probably the only fashion photographer of the twentieth century who can be called an intellectual — or, at least, exceptionally well read and culturally informed. Avedon was a portrait photographer at heart, an obsession that had begun with his Rachmaninoff shot and was augmented by his daily head and shoulders work for the Merchant Marines. His ‘eye’ can be cruel in his portrait shoots such as the 1963 group photo, The Generals of the Daughters of the American Revolution, or the many he took of ordinary unknown individuals in which he allowed the lens to tell the truth without any flattery at all. But he also believed that fashion photographers could have a sense of fun and his first success showed how. The massive breakthrough in Richard Avedon’s career came in 1948 when, in the wake of Dior’s New Look, he accompanied Carmel Snow to Paris in order to photograph the couturier’s second show. And, with the youthful confidence that really doesn’t acknowledge failure, he broke away from the decades-old traditional way of photographing fashion. The frozen, sculptural look of Horst P Horst or Beaton’s pastiches of eighteenth century portraits were all about the stillness of formality; the presentation of clothes as a part of the stiffness of upper class life. In a glorious anticipation of Vreeland’s famous axiom, ‘give em what they never knew they wanted,’ Avedon broke up the frozen, dignified image. His photographs were about action.Movement in fashion photography was not new, of course. It had been developed in the thirties by Martin Munkacsi, Toni Frissell and Norman Parkinson, but only on sporting shoots: women jumping into the sea and other essentially informal activities. What Avedon did was to introduce movement to some of the most formal clothes in the world and to give them a spirit that made them exciting for young women — a first in formal couture. He took clothes that were actually very structured and made them, if not totally casual, at least accessible, a fact that 7th Avenue realised and quickly capitalised on. It is no exaggeration to claim that it was Avedon who matched Dior’s masterstroke with his own masterstroke which was to make visible the possibilities of the new way of dressing. And he did so by Americanising its presentation. He began with the models: Suzy Parker, Dovima, Dorian Leigh, Sunny Harnett were all beautiful, young and full of personality. They ran across Place de la Concorde, they roller skated, they sat at the counters of louche bars, they were accompanied by modern looking young men - a favourite was an English dental student called Robin Tattersall - and they made clothes look universal, fresh and desirable but above all real and speaking to a new sort of couture customer. It was, in itself a new look and, although traditionalists in Paris tut-tutted, it was clear that Richard Avedon had, in one season, completed what Dior had started in 1947.

SUSAN SONTAG Humankind lingers unregenerately in Plato’s cave, still reveling, its age-old habit, in mere images of the truth. But being educated by photographs is not like being educated by older, more artisanal images. For one thing, there are a great many more images around, claiming our attention. The inventory started in 1839 and since then just about everything has been photographed, or so it seems. This very insatiability of the photographing eye changes the terms of confinement in the cave, our world. In teaching us a new visual code, photographs alter and enlarge our notions of what is worth looking at and what we have a right to observe. They are a grammar and, even more importantly, an ethics of seeing. Finally, the most grandiose result of the photographic enterprise is to give us the sense that we can hold the whole world in our heads -- as an anthology of images. To collect photographs is to collect the world. Movies and television programs light up walls, flicker, and go out; but with still photographs the image is also an object, lightweight, cheap to produce, easy to carry about, accumulate, store. In Godard’s Les Carabiniers (1963), two sluggish lumpen-peasants are lured into joining the King’s Army by the promise that they will be able to loot, rape, kill, or do whatever else they please to the enemy, and get rich. But the suitcase of booty that Michel-Ange and Ulysse triumphantly bring home, years later, to their wives turns out to contain only picture postcards, hundreds of them, of Monuments, Department Stores, Mammals, Wonders of Nature, Methods of Transport, Works of Art, and other classified treasures from around the globe. Godard’s gag vividly parodies the equivocal magic of the photographic image., Photographs are perhaps the most mysterious of all the objects that make up, and thicken, the environment we recognize as modern. Photographs really are experience captured, and the camera is the ideal arm of consciousness in its acquisitive mood. To photograph is to appropriate the thing photographed. It means putting oneself into a certain relation to the world that feels like knowledge -- and, therefore, like power. A now notorious first fall into alienation, habituating people to abstract the world into printed words, is supposed to have engendered that surplus of Faustian energy and psychic damage needed to build modern, inorganic societies. But print seems a less treacherous form of leaching out the world, of turning it into a mental object, than photographic images, which now provide most of the knowledge people have about the look of the past and the reach of the present. What is written about a person or an event is frankly an interpretation, as are handmade visual statements, like paintings and drawings. Photographed images do not seem to be statements about the world so much as pieces of it, miniatures of reality that anyone can make or acquire.

Photographs, which fiddle with the scale of the world, themselves get reduced, blown up, cropped, retouched, doctored, tricked out. They age, plagued by the usual ills of paper objects; they disappear; they become valuable, and get bought and sold; they are reproduced. Photographs, which package the world, seem to invite packaging. They are stuck in albums, framed and set on tables, tacked on walls, projected as slides. Newspapers and magazines feature them; cops alphabetize them; museums exhibit them; publishers compile them. For many decades the book has been the most influential way of arranging (and usually miniaturizing) photographs, thereby guaranteeing them longevity, if not immortality -- photographs are fragile objects, easily torn or mislaid -- and a wider public. The photograph in a book is, obviously, the image of an image. But since it is, to begin with, a printed, smooth object, a photograph loses much less of its essential quality when reproduced in a book than a painting does. Still, the book is not a wholly satisfactory scheme for putting groups of photographs into general circulation. The sequence in which the photographs are to be looked at is proposed by the order of pages, but nothing holds readers to the recommended order or indicates the amount of time to be spent on each photograph. Chris Marker’s film, Si j’avais quatre dromadaires (1966), a brilliantly orchestrated meditation on photographs of all sorts and themes, suggests a subtler and more rigorous way of packaging (and enlarging) still photographs. Both the order and the exact time for looking at each photograph are imposed; and there is a gain in visual legibility and emotional impact. But photographs transcribed in a film cease to be collectable objects, as they still are when served up in books. Photographs furnish evidence. Something we hear about, but doubt, seems proven when we’re shown a photograph of it. In one version of its utility, the camera record incriminates. Starting with their use by the Paris police in the murderous roundup of Communards in June 1871, photographs became a useful tool of modern states in the surveillance and control of their increasingly mobile populations. In another version of its utility, the camera record justifies. A photograph passes for incontrovertible proof that a given thing happened. The picture may distort; but there is always a presumption that something exists, or did exist, which is like what’s in the picture. Whatever the limitations (through amateurism) or pretensions (through artistry) of the individual photographer, a photograph -- any photograph -- seems to have a more innocent, and therefore more accurate, relation to visible reality than do other mimetic objects. Virtuosi of the noble image like Alfred Stieglitz and Paul Strand, composing mighty, unforgettable photographs decade after decade, still want, first of all, to show something “out there,” just like the Polaroid owner for whom photographs are a handy, fast form of note-taking, or the shutterbug with a Brownie who takes snapshots as souvenirs of daily life.

While a painting or a prose description can never be other than a narrowly selective interpretation, a photograph can be treated as a narrowly selective transparency. But despite the presumption of veracity that gives all photographs authority, interest, seductiveness, the work that photographers do is no generic exception to the usually shady commerce between art and truth. Even when photographers are most concerned with mirroring reality, they are still haunted by tacit imperatives of taste and conscience. The immensely gifted members of the Farm Security Administration photographic project of the late 1930s (among them Walker Evans, Dorothea Lange, Ben Shahn, Russell Lee) would take dozens of frontal pictures of one of their sharecropper subjects until satisfied that they had gotten just the right look on film -- the precise expression on the subject’s face that supported their own notions about poverty, light, dignity, texture, exploitation, and geometry. In deciding how a picture should look, in preferring one exposure to another, photographers are always imposing standards on their subjects. Although there is a sense in which the camera does indeed capture reality, not just interpret it, photographs are as much an interpretation of the world as paintings and drawings are. Those occasions when the taking of photographs is relatively undiscriminating, promiscuous, or self-effacing do not lessen the didacticism of the whole enterprise. This very passivity -- and ubiquity -- of the photographic record is photography’s “message,” its aggression. Images which idealize (like most fashion and animal photography) are no less aggressive than work which makes a virtue of plainness (like class pictures, still lifes of the bleaker sort, and mug shots). There is an aggression implicit in every use of the camera. This is as evident in the 1840s and 1850s, photography’s glorious first two decades, as in all the succeeding decades, during which technology made possible an ever increasing spread of that mentality which looks at the world as a set of potential photographs. Even for such early masters as David Octavius Hill and Julia Margaret Cameron who used the camera as a means of getting painterly images, the point of taking photographs was a vast departure from the aims of painters. From its start, photography implied the capture of the largest possible number of subjects. Painting never had so imperial a scope. The subsequent industrialization of camera technology only carried out a promise inherent in photography from its very beginning: to democratize all experiences by translating them into images. That age when taking photographs required a cumbersome and expensive contraption -- the toy of the clever, the wealthy, and the obsessed -- seems remote indeed from the era of sleek pocket cameras that invite anyone to take pictures. The first cameras, made in France and England in the early 1840s, had only inventors and buffs to operate them. Since there were then no professional photographers, there could not be amateurs either, and taking photographs had no clear social use; it was a gratuitous, that is, an artistic activity, though with few pretensions to being an art. It was only with its industrialization that photography came into its own as art. As industrialization provided social uses for the operations of the photographer, so the reaction against these uses reinforced the self-consciousness of photography-as-art.e shutterbug with a Brownie who takes snapshots as souvenirs of daily life.

HERB LUBALIN Herb Lubalin was two years old when AIGA awarded its first medal to the individual who, in the judgment of its board of directors and its membership, had distinguished himself in, and contributed significantly to, the field of graphic arts. There has been a lot of history between that moment and the evening in January 1981, when members, directors, friends and admirers gathered in the Great Hall of the New York Chamber of Commerce building to be with Lubalin as he accepted the 62nd AIGA medal. Lubalin was a brilliant, iconoclastic advertising art director—in the 1940s with Reiss Advertising and then for twenty years with Sudler and Hennessey. Recipient of medal after medal, award after award, and in 1962 named Art Director of the Year by the National Society of Art Directors, he has also been a publication designer of great originality and distinction. He designed startling Eros in the early 60s, intellectually and visually astringent Fact in the mid-60s, lush and luscious Avant Garde late in the same decade, and founded U & lc in 1973 and saw it flourish into the 80s. As an agency art director, he pushed beyond the established norm of copy-driven advertising and added a new dimension. As a publication designer, he pushed beyond the boundaries that constrained existing magazines—both in form and content. In fact, some said he had pushed beyond the boundaries of “good taste,” though in retrospect that work is more notable today for its graphic excellence than for its purported prurience. Lubalin helped push back the boundaries of the impact and perception of design—from an ill-defined, narrowly recognized craft to a powerful communication medium that could put big, important ideas smack in the public eye.

ESQUIRE MAGAZINE Esquire, American monthly magazine, founded in 1933 by Arnold Gingrich. It began production as an oversized magazine for men that featured a slick, sophisticated style and drawings of scantily clad young women. It later abandoned its titillating role but continued to cultivate the image of affluence and refined taste. Esquire’s early notoriety became the subject of a celebrated court case. In 1943 Frank C. Walker, the U.S. postmaster general, attempted to withdraw the magazine’s second-class mailing privileges (an economic rate generally considered essential to a magazine’s survival) on the grounds that Esquire was “not devoted to useful information” worthy of the mail subsidy. Gingrich and his associates protested, enlisting noted writers in their defense; he brought suit against Walker and in 1946 won his case in the U.S. Supreme Court. Esquire was a pioneer in the use of unconventional topics and feature stories. As it began to publish the work of Thomas Wolfe, Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, John Steinbeck, Truman Capote, and Norman Mailer, the magazine’s risqué image and its once racy air gradually receded. It provided an outlet for new writers of fiction and nonfiction, and its topical features, satiric humour, and excellent book, cinema, and music reviews filled a void between literary and opinion periodicals in the American market. Although the magazine continued to emphasize clothing and advertising directed to men, Esquire evolved into more of a general-audience publication.

ALEXEY BRODOVITCH Famous for working as an art director for Harper’s Bazaar, Alexey Brodovitch is a renowned designer. During the 1920’s, Alexey helped influence American design by using “Modern” or simplfied graphic design. He helped teach a generation and mold them into future designers. When designing, Alexey took an interest in photography. He used this while creating magazine’s and made it a key component in his designs. This lead to the development of simple, dynamic photos becoming popular in the 1950’s. Too this day his influence can be seen in modern magazine designs. Besides his achievements at Bazaar, Brodovitch’s legacy as a publications designer includes the short-lived but influential magazine Portfolio, three issues of which were published in 1949 and 1950. A flashy, innovative quarterly aimed at the design profession, Portfolio contained profusely illustrated feature on Alexander Calder, Charles Eames, Paul Rand, Saul Steinberg and others, as well as articles surveying the graphic variations of cattle brands and shopping bags. As art editor, Brodovitch helped conceive the magazine’s contents, as well as creating its distinct design with the help of die-cuts, transparent pages, multi-page fold outs and other elaborate (and expensive) graphic devices. Throughout his career, he continued to teach. His “Design Laboratory,” which focused variously on illustration, graphic design and photography and on occasion were offered under the auspices of the AIGA, provided a system of rigorous critiques for those who aspired to magazine work. As a teacher, Brodovitch was inspiring, though sometimes harsh and unrelenting. A student’s worst offense was to present something Brodovitch found boring; at best, the hawk-faced Russian would pronounce a work “interesting.” Despite his unbending manner and lack of explicit critical standards—Brodovitch did not formulate a theory of design—many students under his tutelage discovered untapped creative reserves. Today Brodovitch’s legacy is remarkably rich. His layouts remain models of graphic intelligence and inspiration, even if seldom imitated, and the artists, photographers and designers whose careers he influenced continue to shape graphic design in the image of his uncompromising ideals.

DAVID CARSON This particular art movement became more and more popular during the 1990s. It appeared to be a very messy and chaotic kind of design. Words, textures, backgrounds that formed posters and ads for various things were designed in a very interesting and different typography style. A style called Grunge that became ubiquitous throughout the years and it became the largest, most widespread movement in recent design history. Whilst being a designer, and an art director, graphic design was not Carson’s primal career path. He graduated with a degree in sociology and started teaching while training to be a professional surfer. He started experimenting with graphic design in the early 1980′s. With surfing being a general part of Carson’s life, it has played a great role on his design career. It is one of the reasons for his motivation and success to direct and design various surfing, snowboarding and skateboarding magazines, websites, ads and products like Quiksilver, Burton, SURFportugal, TwSkateboarding, etc. Besides the various magazines David Carson has designed, he became well known for his experimental, deconstructive typographic designs and art direction for Ray Gun magazine. The magazine’s contents were music artists, pop culture, lifestyle, advertising, celebrity icons, etc., and so, Carson was successful in his aim to design it accordingly. David Carson became best known for his designs for Ray Gun which was the peak of his design career and he started attracting many new admirers to his work. David Carson was asked to design and article about an interview with Bryan Ferry, which he found to be very dull and boring, so he typed the whole article in Zapf Dingbats. By breaking all the rules of graphic design he gains major success in his career and inspires and influences graphic designers worldwide, who admire, follow and imitate him. By taking risks without being afraid to do so, he gets rewarded by receiving the title ‘the father of grunge’.

TIBOR KALMAN AND M&CO In the mid-1980s two names changed graphic design: Macintosh and Tibor. The former needs no introduction. Nor, with various books and articles by and about him, does the latter. Tibor Kalman, who died on May 2, 1999, after a long, courageous battle with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, was one of the few graphic designers whose accomplishments were legend within the field and widely known outside as well. Tibor may not be as influential on the daily practice of graphic design as the Mac, but his sway over how designers think—indeed, how they define their roles in culture and society—is indisputable. For a decade he was the design profession’s moral compass and its most fervent provocateur. Tibor was a tough ringmaster. If any speaker went thirty seconds beyond his or her allotted time (or if Tibor felt that the talk was unbearably dull) the amplified sound of barking dogs would pierce the presenter’s soliloquy, signaling the end of the segment. In addition, Tibor introduced quirky short films, an unexpected pizza delivery (by a nonplussed delivery boy), and souvenir handouts (designed by a job printer and reproduced at QuickCopy) that showed design at its most rudimentary, yet communicative. As a new twist on the old ventriloquist’s dummy, Tibor’s onstage straight man was a Mac Classic with a happy face that quipped at programmed intervals. This was the first of many public salvos against the status quo. It was also vintage Tibor. Not since the height of American Modernism during the late 1940s and 1950s had one designer prodded other designers to take responsibility for their work as designer-citizens. With a keen instinct for public relations, a penchant for Barnum-like antics, and a radical consciousness from his days as an organizer for SDS (Students for a Democratic Society), Tibor had, by the late 1980s, become known as (or maybe he even dubbed himself) the “bad boy” of graphic design.

NEVILLE BRODY Neville Brody was born in London in 1957. He attended the London College of Printing from 1976-79 before becoming a freelance designer, mainly of record sleeves. In 1981 he became designer of The Face magazine, where his typographic experiments won international acclaim. He went on to art direct Arena, Per Lui (Italy) and Actuel (France). A book of his collected designs, The Graphic Language of Neville Brody, was published in 1988 to coincide with a retrospective at London’s Victoria & Albert Museum. He is an enthusiastic advocate of computer-based design and in 1991 helped to launch Fuse, a disk-based ‘interactive’ magazine of new typefaces. During his studies, Brody moved into a central London squat, and found himself living next to trendsetting nightclubs and gig venues, as well as the singer from experimental post-punk band 23 Skidoo, whom he’d later create artwork for. After college, Brody took a job at London-based agency Rocking Russian where he worked under prominent art director Alex McDowell, who was responsible for creating some of the period’s most iconic punk t-shirt graphics. Brody, on the other hand, was much more overtly shaped by the rebellious energy and inclinations of the punk period. He was inspired by Dada, the Constructivists and William Burroughs, and he was outspokenly humanist in his sympathies and openly political in a way that none of his contemporaries were. A Conservative Government led by Margaret Thatcher was then in power and he made a point of working for left-wing causes. As the “design decade” progressed, Brody often attacked the excessiveness of the design industry, which did nothing to endear him to the design establishment (to this day he remains an outsider). This attempt to use his position to encourage debate culminated in an attack on the “set up” of design published in 1988 on the front page of The Guardian’s review section, which even allowed him to change its grid. It has to be said that Brody and his collaborator Jon Wozencroft didn’t quite pull this off, but it was a remarkable intervention, which brought pressing design issues to a broader public, and there has been nothing remotely like it since then in the British press. Brody was already struggling, though, to escape from being typecast as someone who was hung up on style (he wasn’t) and this perception has dogged him ever since.

34 WHAT

ARE THE ADVANTAGES OF A MULTIPLE COLUMN GRID?

When designing for a publication that uses complex hierarchy, and use visuals, a multiple column grid provides flexiblity. Using the grid helps create areas for different information, making clear hierarchy among the information.

HOW MANY CHARACTERS IS OPTIMAL FOR A LINE LENGTH? WORDS PER LINE? Having 16 words per line is optimal and 50-60 characters.

WHY IS THE BASELINE GRID USED IN DESIGN? Baseline grids are used to help anchor different elements within a layout by making a common rhythm.

WHAT ARE REASONS TO SET TYPE JUSTIFIED? RAGGED (UNJUSTIFIED)? Justified text is used to create a clean shape within a layout. Its commonly used for books and newspapers. However, gaps can occur when using it because it makes the lines into equal measurements. This can be corrected by using a line length that is correct size in relation to the type size. In comparsion to this, ragged or unjustified alignment avoids uneven spacing by creating an organic flow of text. Sometimes a bad rag can occur. This happens with the alignment appears geometric and unnatural. Designers should work to make the text appear random, and natural with its edge.

WHAT IS A TYPOGRAPHIC RIVER? Rivers, or rivers of white are gaps which appear to run through a paragraph of text, due to a coincidental alignment of spaces.

WHAT DOES CLOTHESLINE, HANGLINE OR FLOW LINE MEAN? Hanglines are when text is divided into horizontal columns and “hang” on the same line. This is creates similarity between layouts and helps guide the viewers eyes when reading the text.

WHAT DOES TYPE COLOR/TEXTURE MEAN? A types color/texture occurs when a designer mixes different typefaces together to create contrast. Its important to understand different typefaces so when they are combined they are not “mushy”.

HOW DOES X-HEIGHT EFFECT TYPE COLOR? When mixing two typefaces together, a designer must concider the x-height. It is typical to adjust the point size so the x-height’s align.

WHAT ARE SOME WAYS TO INDICATE A NEW PARAGRAPH. ARE THERE ANY RULES? There a variety of ways to indicate a new paragraph. A designer can use a indent and line break, a line break and 1/2 line space, outdent and line break, extra space inside line without line break, or a symbol without indent/linebreak. A rule that can not be broken when indicating a new paragraph is using too many signals. When paragraph spacing and indents are used together it gives the text a indefinite shape and wastes space.

15 MAGAZINE COVERS Photographs, which fiddle with the scale of the world, themselves get reduced, blown up, cropped, retouched, doctored, tricked out. They age, plagued by the usual ills of paper objects; they disappear; they become valuable, and get bought and sold; they are reproduced. Photographs, which package the world, seem to invite packaging. They are stuck in albums, framed and set on tables, tacked on walls, projected as slides. Newspapers and magazines feature them; cops alphabetize them; museums exhibit them; publishers compile them. For many decades the book has been the most influential way of arranging (and usually miniaturizing) photographs, thereby guaranteeing them longevity, if not immortality -- photographs are fragile objects, easily torn or mislaid -- and a wider public. The photograph in a book is, obviously, the image of an image. But since it is, to begin with, a printed, smooth object, a photograph loses much less of its essential quality when reproduced in a book than a painting does. Still, the book is not a wholly satisfactory scheme for putting groups of photographs into general circulation. The sequence in which the photographs are to be looked at is proposed by the order of pages, but nothing holds readers to the recommended order or indicates the amount of time to be spent on each photograph. Chris Marker’s film, Si j’avais quatre dromadaires (1966), a brilliantly orchestrated meditation on photographs of all sorts and themes, suggests a subtler and more rigorous way of packaging (and enlarging) still photographs. Both the order and the exact time for looking at each photograph are imposed; and there is a gain in visual legibility and emotional impact. But photographs transcribed in a film cease to be collectable objects, as they still are when served up in books. Photographs furnish evidence. Something we hear about, but doubt, seems proven when we’re shown a photograph of it. In one version of its utility, the camera record incriminates. Starting with their use by the Paris police in the murderous roundup of Communards in June 1871, photographs became a useful tool of modern states in the surveillance and control of their increasingly mobile populations. In another version of

INITIAL COVER IDEAS

ID NTITY

iD NTiTY

ID NTITY

iD NTiTY

TYPE STUDIES

Font studies: Futura, and Baskerville

Caption: re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis

Article Title THIS IS A SUBHEAD INTRO TEXT 14/18PT: Ehenihic

totae et, il ipis doloratiberi sed eaquati nverfer

uptatem sunt ommodio conet que a aut omnisti busapero inte volum re non exerro veliqui quaecto ex eumquae errorum fuga. Nam ea conectatem. Ignis secta eaquata tectur? Ihit et qui digendi tatiusci voluptatus, quibus doluptatum quodi odiat odioriti aut endionet mod quia ipsandis

CALL OUTS 24/36 pt

In re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae.

BODY TEXT 8.5/12pt: Agnationsed exerem velestisquam facilla pedit eosti sintiam utem quisti custore raecto blandus andisi quis et lique es sed maximil ellatur epudit voluptas aut plitati busdae paruntis ut volo te net alignih itassit ationsecti cum quis ex entusciam vendebis dolupti cum raeratur? Qui coresequo iliam sequatum ne ratentis antur, odit vendese ditiundaes non res nam dis coreper ationest, elicillut que pa sed magnatur maio doluptas nosamenduci dolenim aiorepeliqui occupta spedipidic te vendi dem dolorepercia evenit que voluptate vellupt atibere prepel ma consedi ilit deriore perspitia quatibus mi, consequatem ipsunt ut dolorro rerionsequi sequi dus arcipsandus doluptatqui non es sum conecae qui voluptatus et lab ius dolupta tibusae magnatus mos si berunt laciis aut vel is expelent ad excest, te pre, officaborum quas velessum fuga. Sus doloreptur? Sit, optis nobitat emquas estruptae nis doluptat quatum, qui corerum volorro eici ditiore, ute nullis commo dolorum facerspe sam, explam quidebis as dipis pariore cone officii strundi dello cuptat. Orehent quia voluptur? Ferro et es et odit adios et vernam inciur ratur aut porro odis ex etum esti sapel et quate peribero cus quat ium fugitate estiasp eribus et magnatur? Fuga. Assit quaspitatiis et eumet et quam harum estiistis venimol uptiam quame numquis ea iliaese dissitiur, sapidere nonsequi voluptatiae experias ex ea auta doluptae vellestrum consed quo te doloruptate si as debisciis dit modiate mporemp oribusa nobit perspedit, od miliber ovidebit, sit at aut lab inturio tem consequas ut autatintur moluptis dolupta incipsuOptatis nost, sim lam nobit, odi reprate pelitiorrum quat. Ur alibusam qui illuptas apisse liquibus autemquias vollabo repudipsam, te quid moditatia sequund itatquidus que porem et qui doluptatatem sit quia digent atus am faceatem am, od eossundamus unt rem non et porem es des quamenderem quibusdam ent offic te volut etur, tetures rem ratemo enduciis eossim volupta tiunt.

Optis nobitat emquas estruptae nis doluptat quatum, qui corerum volorro eici ditiore, ute nullis commo dolorum facerspe sam, explam quidebis as dipis pariore cone officii strundi dello cuptat. Orehent quia voluptur? Ferro et es et odit adios et vernam inciur ratur aut porro odis ex etum esti sapel et quate peribero cus quat ium fugitate estiasp eribus et magnatur? Fuga. Assit quaspitatiis et eumet et quam harum estiistis venimol uptiam quame numquis ea iliaese dissitiur, sapidere nonsequi voluptatiae experias ex ea auta doluptae vellestrum consed quo te doloruptate si as debisciis dit modiate mporemp oribusa nobit perspedit, od miliber ovidebit, sit at aut lab inturio tem consequas ut autatintur moluptis dolupta incipsuOmnitiist aut es ut labor as earion necerum quuntib erferibus, sam restiis ma cores ut harciis aut doluptia qui dolorpor molupta cum eatur? Nobitas event reictotatis pedi odit laborro volore si archilla as aut voloremquias dolorem porume mi, cus volore doluptatam liqui ima as porrum etur atinctem remqui am raturem aut volende rsperferiate nobis quatet, vendendandi volorro cus audipsumquat liquiant omnisim olupta diat omnis acimint quisime cum corit hillo eum ut hiciam, non etur, oditat qui apis aut elit veria ped quaeper ioremol uptaten daecessinum, id milisqui dolorum estrum aut volupta spelecte pla sam, qui dollent paria adioribus reicipi cienimu sciandae doluptam faceat dis si il ipsapita quia delit et, conessi minullab id everiberit mo beati re volest, sandae lab imusam, est vel ipsapellat quassequi vita doloribus mo to et labo. Et ulluptatur am fugit magnihil et aces aliquam endis modis essin nimoluptatem dolorum suntur sam conecer sperum ne min reperspedit hario. Hic te explatem sinum nonsequi berrum ventur autem. Nam quas explis eiusti. In re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae. Feriati dolupta voluptatur? Agnationsed exerem velestisquam facilla pedit eosti sintiam utem quisti custore raecto blandus andisi quis et lique es sed maximil ellatur epudit voluptas aut plitati busdae paruntis ut volo te net alignih itassit ationsecti cum quis ex entusciam vendebis dolupti cum raeratur? Qui coresequo iliam sequatum ne ratentis antur, odit vendese ditiundaes non res nam dis coreper ationest, elicillut que pa sed magnatur maio doluptas nosamenduci Sus doloreptur?

Font studies: Archer and Interstate

Caption: re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae. Feriati dolupta volupt

Article Title THIS IS A SUBHEAD

INTRO TEXT 14/18PT:

Ehenihic totae et, il ipis doloratiberi sed eaquati nverfer

CALL OUTS 24/36 pt

In re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae.

BODY TEXT 8.5/12pt: Agnationsed exerem velestisquam

Optis nobitat emquas estruptae nis doluptat quatum, qui

corerum volorro eici ditiore, ute nullis commo dolorum facerspe sam, explam quidebis as dipis pariore cone officii strundi dello cuptat. Orehent quia voluptur? Ferro et es et odit adios et vernam inciur ratur aut porro odis ex etum esti sapel et quate peribero cus quat ium fugitate estiasp eribus et magnatur? Fuga. Assit quaspitatiis et eumet et quam harum estiistis venimol uptiam quame numquis ea iliaese dissitiur, sapidere nonsequi voluptatiae experias ex ea auta doluptae vellestrum consed quo te doloruptate si as debisciis dit modiate mporemp oribusa nobit perspedit, od miliber ovidebit, sit at aut lab inturio tem consequas ut autatintur moluptis dolupta incipsuOmnitiist aut es ut labor as earion necerum quuntib erferibus, sam restiis ma cores ut harciis aut doluptia qui dolorpor molupta cum eatur?

Orehent quia voluptur? Ferro et es et odit adios et vernam inciur ratur aut porro odis ex etum esti sapel et quate peribero cus quat ium fugitate estiasp eribus et magnatur? Fuga. Assit quaspitatiis et eumet et quam harum estiistis venimol uptiam quame numquis ea iliaese dissitiur, sapidere nonsequi voluptatiae experias ex ea auta doluptae vellestrum consed quo te doloruptate si as debisciis dit modiate mporemp oribusa nobit perspedit, od miliber ovidebit, sit at aut lab inturio tem consequas ut autatintur moluptis dolupta incipsuOptatis nost, sim lam nobit, odi reprate pelitiorrum quat. Ur alibusam qui illuptas apisse liquibus autemquias vollabo repudipsam, te quid moditatia sequund itatquidus que porem et qui doluptatatem sit quia digent atus am faceatem am, od eossundamus unt rem non et porem es des quamenderem quibusdam ent offic te volut etur, tetures rem ratemo enduciis eossim volupta tiunt.

Nobitas event reictotatis pedi odit laborro volore si archilla as aut voloremquias dolorem porume mi, cus volore doluptatam liqui ima as porrum etur atinctem remqui am raturem aut volende rsperferiate nobis quatet, vendendandi volorro cus audipsumquat liquiant omnisim olupta diat omnis acimint quisime cum corit hillo eum ut hiciam, non etur, oditat qui apis aut elit veria ped quaeper ioremol uptaten daecessinum, id milisqui dolorum estrum aut volupta spelecte pla sam, qui dollent paria adioribus reicipi cienimu sciandae doluptam faceat dis si il ipsapita quia delit et, conessi minullab id everiberit mo beati re volest, sandae lab imusam, est vel ipsapellat quassequi vita doloribus mo to et labo. Et ulluptatur am fugit magnihil et aces aliquam endis modis essin nimoluptatem dolorum suntur sam conecer sperum ne min reperspedit hario. Hic te explatem sinum nonsequi berrum ventur autem. Nam quas explis eiusti. In re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae. Feriati dolupta voluptatur? Agnationsed exerem velestisquam facilla pedit eosti sintiam utem quisti custore raecto blandus andisi quis et lique es sed maximil ellatur epudit voluptas aut plitati busdae paruntis ut volo te net alignih itassit ationsecti cum quis ex entusciam vendebis dolupti cum raeratur? Qui coresequo iliam sequatum ne ratentis antur, odit vendese ditiundaes non res nam dis coreper ationest, elicillut que pa sed magnatur maio doluptas nosamenduci Sus doloreptur?

Font studies: Berthold Akzidenz Grotesk and Sabon

Caption: re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae. Feriati dolupta volupt

Article Title

THIS IS A SUBHEAD INTRO TEXT 14/18PT:

Ehenihic totae et, il ipis doloratiberi sed eaquati nverfer up-

tatem sunt ommodio conet que a aut omnisti busapero inte volum re non exerro veliqui quaecto ex eumquae errorum fuga. Nam ea conectatem. Ignis secta eaquata tectur? Ihit et qui digendi tatiusci voluptatus, quibus doluptatum quodi odiat odioriti aut endionet mod quia ipsandis mo con re parchil in prat

CALL OUTS 24/36 pt BODY TEXT 8.5/12pt: Agnationsed exerem velestisquam

In re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae.

facilla pedit eosti sintiam utem quisti custore raecto blandus andisi quis et lique es sed maximil ellatur epudit voluptas aut plitati busdae paruntis ut volo te net alignih itassit ationsecti cum quis ex entusciam vendebis dolupti cum raeratur? Qui coresequo iliam sequatum ne ratentis antur, odit vendese ditiundaes non res nam dis coreper ationest, elicillut que pa sed magnatur maio doluptas nosamenduci dolenim aiorepeliqui occupta spedipidic te vendi dem dolorepercia evenit que voluptate vellupt atibere prepel ma consedi ilit deriore perspitia quatibus mi, consequatem ipsunt ut dolorro rerionsequi sequi dus arcipsandus doluptatqui non es sum conecae qui voluptatus et lab ius dolupta tibusae magnatus mos si berunt laciis aut vel is expelent ad excest, te pre, officaborum quas velessum fuga. Sus doloreptur? Sit, optis nobitat emquas estruptae nis doluptat quatum, qui corerum volorro eici ditiore, ute nullis commo dolorum facerspe sam, explam quidebis as dipis pariore cone officii strundi dello cuptat. Orehent quia voluptur? Ferro et es et odit adios et vernam inciur ratur aut porro odis ex etum esti sapel et quate peribero cus quat ium fugitate estiasp eribus et magnatur? Fuga. Assit quaspitatiis et eumet et quam harum estiistis venimol uptiam quame numquis ea iliaese dissitiur, sapidere nonsequi voluptatiae experias ex ea auta doluptae vellestrum consed quo te doloruptate si as debisciis dit modiate mporemp oribusa nobit perspedit, od miliber ovidebit, sit at aut lab inturio tem consequas ut autatintur moluptis dolupta incipsuOptatis nost, sim lam nobit, odi reprate pelitiorrum quat. Ur alibusam qui illuptas apisse liquibus autemquias vollabo repudipsam, te quid moditatia sequund itatquidus que porem et qui doluptatatem sit quia digent atus am faceatem am, od eossundamus unt rem non et porem es des quamenderem quibusdam ent offic te volut etur, tetures rem ratemo enduciis eossim volupta tiunt.

Font studies: Bank Gothic and Belizio

Caption: re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim

Article Title THIS IS A SUBHEAD INTRO TEXT 14/18PT:

Ehenihic totae et, il ipis doloratiberi sed ea-

quati nverfer uptatem sunt ommodio conet que a aut omnisti busapero inte volum re non exerro veliqui quaecto ex eumquae errorum fuga. Nam ea conectatem. Ignis secta eaquata tectur? Ihit et qui digendi tatiusci voluptatus, quibus doluptatum quo-

CALL OUTS 24/36 pt BODY TEXT 8.5/12pt: Agnationsed exerem ve-

In re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae.

lestisquam facilla pedit eosti sintiam utem quisti custore raecto blandus andisi quis et lique es sed maximil ellatur epudit voluptas aut plitati busdae paruntis ut volo te net alignih itassit ationsecti cum quis ex entusciam vendebis dolupti cum raeratur? Qui coresequo iliam sequatum ne ratentis antur, odit vendese ditiundaes non res nam dis coreper ationest, elicillut que pa sed magnatur maio doluptas nosamenduci dolenim aiorepeliqui occupta spedipidic te vendi dem dolorepercia evenit que voluptate vellupt atibere prepel ma consedi ilit deriore perspitia quatibus mi, consequatem ipsunt ut dolorro rerionsequi sequi dus arcipsandus doluptatqui non es sum conecae qui voluptatus et lab ius dolupta tibusae magnatus mos si berunt laciis aut vel is expelent ad excest, te pre, officaborum quas velessum fuga. Sus doloreptur? Sit, optis nobitat emquas estruptae nis doluptat quatum, qui corerum volorro eici ditiore, ute nullis commo dolorum facerspe sam, explam quidebis as dipis pariore cone officii strundi dello cuptat. Orehent quia voluptur? Ferro et es et odit adios et vernam inciur ratur aut porro odis ex etum esti sapel et quate peribero cus quat ium fugitate estiasp eribus et magnatur? Fuga. Assit quaspitatiis et eumet et quam harum estiistis venimol uptiam quame numquis ea iliaese dissitiur, sapidere nonsequi voluptatiae experias ex ea auta doluptae vellestrum consed quo te doloruptate si as debisciis dit modiate mporemp oribusa nobit perspedit, od miliber ovidebit, sit at aut lab inturio tem consequas ut autatintur moluptis dolupta incipsuOptatis nost, sim lam nobit, odi reprate pelitiorrum quat. Ur alibusam qui illuptas apisse liquibus autemquias vollabo repudipsam, te quid moditatia sequund itatquidus que porem et qui doluptatatem sit quia digent atus am faceatem am, od eossundamus unt rem non et porem es des quamenderem quibusdam ent offic te volut etur, tetures rem ratemo enduciis

Font studies: Bondoni 72 and Bau

Caption: re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis

Article Title THIS IS A SUBHEAD

INTRO TEXT 14/18PT: Ehenihic

totae et, il ipis doloratiberi sed eaquati nverfer uptatem sunt

ommodio conet que a aut omnisti busapero inte volum re non exerro veliqui quaecto ex eumquae errorum fuga. Nam ea conectatem. Ignis secta eaquata tectur? Ihit et qui digendi tatiusci voluptatus, quibus doluptatum quodi odiat odioriti aut endionet mod quia ipsandis mo con re parchil in prat excerunte simus sam que molorio vel enis aut ulliqua-

CALL OUTS 24/36 pt

In re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae.

BODY TEXT 8.5/12pt: Agnationsed exerem velestisquam facilla

pedit eosti sintiam utem quisti custore raecto blandus andisi quis et lique es sed maximil ellatur epudit voluptas aut plitati busdae paruntis ut volo te net alignih itassit ationsecti cum quis ex entusciam vendebis dolupti cum raeratur? Qui coresequo iliam sequatum ne ratentis antur, odit vendese ditiundaes non res nam dis coreper ationest, elicillut que pa sed magnatur maio doluptas nosamenduci dolenim aiorepeliqui occupta spedipidic te vendi dem dolorepercia evenit que voluptate vellupt atibere prepel ma consedi ilit deriore perspitia quatibus mi, consequatem ipsunt ut dolorro rerionsequi sequi dus arcipsandus doluptatqui non es sum conecae qui voluptatus et lab ius dolupta tibusae magnatus mos si berunt laciis aut vel is expelent ad excest, te pre, officaborum quas velessum fuga. Sus doloreptur? Sit, optis nobitat emquas estruptae nis doluptat quatum, qui corerum volorro eici ditiore, ute nullis commo dolorum facerspe sam, explam quidebis as dipis pariore cone officii strundi dello cuptat. Orehent quia voluptur? Ferro et es et odit adios et vernam inciur ratur aut porro odis ex etum esti sapel et quate peribero cus quat ium fugitate estiasp eribus et magnatur? Fuga. Assit quaspitatiis et eumet et quam harum estiistis venimol uptiam quame numquis ea iliaese dissitiur, sapidere nonsequi voluptatiae experias ex ea auta doluptae vellestrum consed quo te doloruptate si as debisciis dit modiate mporemp oribusa nobit perspedit, od miliber ovidebit, sit at aut lab inturio tem consequas ut autatintur moluptis dolupta incipsuOptatis nost, sim lam nobit, odi reprate pelitiorrum quat. Ur alibusam qui illuptas apisse liquibus autemquias vollabo repudipsam, te quid moditatia sequund itatquidus que porem et qui doluptatatem sit quia digent atus am faceatem am, od eossundamus unt rem non et porem es des quamenderem quibusdam ent offic te volut etur, tetures rem ratemo enduciis eossim volupta tiunt.

Optis nobitat emquas estruptae nis doluptat quatum, qui corerum volor-

ro eici ditiore, ute nullis commo dolorum facerspe sam, explam quidebis as dipis pariore cone officii strundi dello cuptat. Orehent quia voluptur? Ferro et es et odit adios et vernam inciur ratur aut porro odis ex etum esti sapel et quate peribero cus quat ium fugitate estiasp eribus et magnatur? Fuga. Assit quaspitatiis et eumet et quam harum estiistis venimol uptiam quame numquis ea iliaese dissitiur, sapidere nonsequi voluptatiae experias ex ea auta doluptae vellestrum consed quo te doloruptate si as debisciis dit modiate mporemp oribusa nobit perspedit, od miliber ovidebit, sit at aut lab inturio tem consequas ut autatintur moluptis dolupta incipsuOmnitiist aut es ut labor as earion necerum quuntib erferibus, sam restiis ma cores ut harciis aut doluptia qui dolorpor molupta cum eatur? Nobitas event reictotatis pedi odit laborro volore si archilla as aut voloremquias dolorem porume mi, cus volore doluptatam liqui ima as porrum etur atinctem remqui am raturem aut volende rsperferiate nobis quatet, vendendandi volorro cus audipsumquat liquiant omnisim olupta diat omnis acimint quisime cum corit hillo eum ut hiciam, non etur, oditat qui apis aut elit veria ped quaeper ioremol uptaten daecessinum, id milisqui dolorum estrum aut volupta spelecte pla sam, qui dollent paria adioribus reicipi cienimu sciandae doluptam faceat dis si il ipsapita quia delit et, conessi minullab id everiberit mo beati re volest, sandae lab imusam, est vel ipsapellat quassequi vita doloribus mo to et labo. Et ulluptatur am fugit magnihil et aces aliquam endis modis essin nimoluptatem dolorum suntur sam conecer sperum ne min reperspedit hario. Hic te explatem sinum nonsequi berrum ventur autem. Nam quas explis eiusti. In re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae. Feriati dolupta voluptatur? Agnationsed exerem velestisquam facilla pedit eosti sintiam utem quisti custore raecto blandus andisi quis et lique es sed maximil ellatur epudit voluptas aut plitati busdae paruntis ut volo te net alignih itassit ationsecti cum quis ex entusciam vendebis dolupti cum raeratur? Qui coresequo iliam sequatum ne ratentis antur, odit vendese ditiundaes non res nam dis coreper ationest, elicillut que pa sed magnatur maio doluptas nosamenduci Sus doloreptur?

Font studies: Athelas and Whitney

Caption: re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sun-

dipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae. Feriati dolupta volupt

Article Title THIS IS A SUBHEAD

INTRO TEXT 14/18PT: Ehenihic

totae et, il ipis doloratiberi sed eaquati nverfer uptatem

sunt ommodio conet que a aut omnisti busapero inte volum re non exerro veliqui quaecto ex eumquae errorum fuga. Nam ea conectatem. Ignis secta eaquata tectur? Ihit et qui digendi tatiusci voluptatus, quibus doluptatum quodi odiat odioriti aut endionet mod quia ipsandis mo con re parchil in prat excerunte simus

CALL OUTS 24/36 pt

In re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae.

BODY TEXT 8.5/12pt: Agnationsed exerem velestisquam facilla

Optis nobitat emquas estruptae nis doluptat quatum, qui core-

rum volorro eici ditiore, ute nullis commo dolorum facerspe sam, explam quidebis as dipis pariore cone officii strundi dello cuptat. Orehent quia voluptur? Ferro et es et odit adios et vernam inciur ratur aut porro odis ex etum esti sapel et quate peribero cus quat ium fugitate estiasp eribus et magnatur? Fuga. Assit quaspitatiis et eumet et quam harum estiistis venimol uptiam quame numquis ea iliaese dissitiur, sapidere nonsequi voluptatiae experias ex ea auta doluptae vellestrum consed quo te doloruptate si as debisciis dit modiate mporemp oribusa nobit perspedit, od miliber ovidebit, sit at aut lab inturio tem consequas ut autatintur moluptis dolupta incipsuOmnitiist aut es ut labor as earion necerum quuntib erferibus, sam restiis ma cores ut harciis aut doluptia qui dolorpor molupta cum eatur? Nobitas event reictotatis pedi odit laborro volore si archilla as aut voloremquias dolorem porume mi, cus volore doluptatam liqui ima as porrum etur atinctem remqui am raturem aut volende rsperferiate nobis quatet, vendendandi volorro cus audipsumquat liquiant omnisim olupta diat omnis acimint quisime cum corit hillo eum ut hiciam, non etur, oditat qui apis aut elit veria ped quaeper ioremol uptaten daecessinum, id milisqui dolorum estrum aut volupta spelecte pla sam, qui dollent paria adioribus reicipi cienimu sciandae doluptam faceat dis si il ipsapita quia delit et, conessi minullab id everiberit mo beati re volest, sandae lab imusam, est vel ipsapellat quassequi vita doloribus mo to et labo. Et ulluptatur am fugit magnihil et aces aliquam endis modis essin nimoluptatem dolorum suntur sam conecer sperum ne min reperspedit hario. Hic te explatem sinum nonsequi berrum ventur autem. Nam quas explis eiusti. In re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae. Feriati dolupta voluptatur? Agnationsed exerem velestisquam facilla pedit eosti sintiam utem quisti custore raecto blandus andisi quis et lique es sed maximil ellatur epudit voluptas aut plitati busdae paruntis ut volo te net alignih itassit ationsecti cum quis ex entusciam vendebis dolupti cum raeratur? Qui coresequo iliam sequatum ne ratentis antur, odit vendese ditiundaes non res nam dis coreper ationest, elicillut que pa sed magnatur maio doluptas nosamenduci Sus doloreptur?

COMPOSITION STUDIES

OPENING SPREADS

72 MAGAZINE TITLE

WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

I N T I M AT E

WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

MAGAZINE TITLE

MAGAZINE TITLE 77

WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

IDENTITY

79 MAGAZINE TITLE

JAKE

NAUG H TON

t first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we age, we enter the twilight of limitless possibility. Despite our best intentions, we accept that there are fewer possible selves. But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? What future remains? These are the questions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emotionally charged and verdant compositions. “The photographs are visual possibilities of what could be, what might have been, what I’d like to be,” Mr. Hilliard said. Having grown up part of a progressive working-class family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his footing as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by ideas of masculinity, identity and relationships and quickly turned to that in his work. “There’s a lot of photographs about men, myself, strangers, the man I am, the man I’m not, the man I want to be, the man I want but can’t have,” Mr. Hilliard said. During his formative years as an undergraduate at Massachusetts College of Art, he studied under luminaries like Abelardo Morell, Nick Nixon and Barbara Bosworth, all of whom inspired him to explore his personal life — and his sensitive side — in his work. During class with Ms. Bosworth, students were encouraged to cry as she read poetry aloud. While there, he began documenting his relationship with his father.

81 MAGAZINE TITLE

INTIMATE LIFE PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

PERSONAL MOMENTS THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

83 MAGAZINE TITLE

M O PERSONAL M E N T S

85 MAGAZINE TITLE

THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

86 MAGAZINE TITLE

PERSONAL MOMENTS WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

IDENTITY

89 TITLE MAGAZINE

91 MAGAZINE TITLE

identity THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

92 MAGAZINE TITLE

PERSONAL MOMENTS THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

94 MAGAZINE TITLE

intimate LIFE WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

INTIMATE MOMENTS THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

97 MAGAZINE TITLE

MAGAZINE TITLE

IDENTITY. WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

100

iDENTITY WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

101 MAGAZINE TITLE

102

MAGAZINE TITLE

103

personal moments THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD

104

WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

PERSONAL

MAGAZINE TITLE

105

MOMENTS

106 MAGAZINE TITLE

ID E

107

ENTITY

108 MAGAZINE TITLE

109

IDENTITY WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

110

INTIMATE LIFE PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID HILLIARD

111 MAGAZINE TITLE

112

iDE MAGAZINE TITLE

113

ENTiTY WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

114

115 MAGAZINE TITLE

PERSONAL MOMENTS THE WORK OF DAVID HILLIARD 3

116

IDENTITY WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

117

identity.

118

WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

119

“The photographs are visual possibilities of what could be, what might have been, what I’d like to be,” Mr. Hilliard said.

Having grown up part of a progressive working-class family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his footing as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by ideas of masculinity, identity and relationships and quickly turned to that in his work. “There’s a lot of photographs about men, myself, strangers, the man I am, the man I’m not, the man I want to be, the man I want but can’t have,” Mr. Hilliard said.

During his formative years as an undergraduate at Massachusetts College of Art, he studied under luminaries like Abelardo Morell, Nick Nixon and Barbara Bosworth, all of whom inspired him to explore his personal life — and his sensitive side — in his work. During class with Ms. Bosworth, students were encouraged to cry as she read

poetry aloud. While there, he began documenting his relationship with his father.

120

121

INNER SPREADS

122

Caption: re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis

DAVID HILLIARD SUBTITLE “the photographs are visual possibilities of what could be, what might have been, what I’d like to be”

At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or

“The photographs are visual possibilities of what

stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon

could be, what might have been, what I’d like to

light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we

be,” Mr. Hilliard said.

age, we enter the twilight of limitless possibility.

his work. “There’s a lot of photographs about

Despite our best intentions, we accept that there

men, myself, strangers, the man I am, the man

are fewer possible selves.

I’m not, the man I want to be, the man I want but can’t have,” Mr. Hilliard said.

But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? What future remains? These are the ques-

During his formative years as an undergraduate

tions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest

at Massachusetts College of Art, he studied under

book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emotion-

luminaries like Abelardo Morell, Nick Nixon and

ally charged and verdant compositions.

Barbara Bosworth, all of whom inspired him to explore his personal life — and his sensitive side

Having grown up part of a progressive working-class

— in his work. During class with Ms. Bosworth,

family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his foot-

students were encouraged to cry as she read

ing as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by

poetry aloud. While there, he began documenting

ideas of masculinity, identity and relationships and

his relationship with his father.

quickly turned to that in.

123

“The photographs are visual possibilities of what could be, what might have been, what I’d like to be,” Mr. Hilliard said. his work. “There’s a lot of photographs about men, myself, strangers, the man I am, the man I’m not, the man I want to be, the man I want but can’t have,” Mr. Hilliard said. During his formative years as an undergraduate at Massachusetts College of Art, he studied under luminaries like Abelardo Morell, Nick Nixon and Barbara Bosworth, all of whom inspired him to explore his personal life — and his sensitive side — in his work. During class with Ms. Bosworth, students were encouraged to cry as she read poetry aloud. While there, he began documenting his relationship with his father. “The photographs are visual possibilities of what

124

125

At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or stand, run

stutter-step through the afternoon light or rest sweetly

in our mother’s lap. As we age, we enter the twilight of

limitless possibility. Despite our best intentions, we ac-

cept that there are fewer possible selves.

But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been?

What future remains? These are the questions David

Hilliard wrestles with in his newest book, “What Could

Be,” a compendium of emotionally charged and verdant

compositions.

Having grown up part of a progressive working-class

family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his footing

as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by ideas of

masculinity, identity and relationships and quickly turned

to that in At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or

stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon light or

rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we age, we enter the

twilight of limitless possibility. Despite our best inten-

tions, we accept that there are fewer possible selves. “The work is initially going But what unforeseen joy or hardship mightfunny-it’s have been? But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? to be going to stem What future remains? These are the questions David What future remains? These are the questions David these ofwrestles blatant Hilliard wrestles with in his newestfrom book, “What Could kind Hilliard with in his newest book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emotionally charged and verdant Be,” a compendium of emotionally charged and verdant illustrations of accidents compositions. compositions. around the home. Think about Having grown up part of a progressive working-class fam- Having grown up part of a progressive working-class famallhisthe things mother ily in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found footing as a gay your ily in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his footing as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by ideas of masculinity, young man early. He was intrigued by ideas of masculinity, used to tell you never to do.” identity and relationships and quickly turned to that in. identity and relationships and quickly turned to that in. tions, we accept that there are fewer possible selves.

At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or stand, run

stutter-step through the afternoon light or rest sweetly in

our mother’s lap. As we age, we enter the twilight of limit-

less possibility. Despite our best intentions, we accept that

there are fewer possible selves.

But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been?

What future remains? These are the questions David

Hilliard wrestles with in his newest book, “What Could

Be,” a compendium of emotionally charged and verdant

compositions.

Having grown up part of a progressive working-class fam-

ily in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his footing as a gay

young man early. He was intrigued by ideas of masculinity,

identity and relationships and quickly turned to that in.

At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or stand, run

stutter-step through the afternoon light or rest sweetly in

our mother’s lap. As we age, we enter the twilight of limit-

126

127

“The work is initially going to be funny-it’s going to stem from these kind of blatant illustrations of accidents around the home.”

At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or

“The photographs are visual possibilities of what

stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon

could be, what might have been, what I’d like to

light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we

be,” Mr. Hilliard said.

age, we enter the twilight of limitless possibility.

his work. “There’s a lot of photographs about

Despite our best intentions, we accept that there

men, myself, strangers, the man I am, the man

are fewer possible selves.

I’m not, the man I want to be, the man I want but can’t have,” Mr. Hilliard said.

But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? What future remains? These are the ques-

During his formative years as an undergraduate

tions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest

at Massachusetts College of Art, he studied under

book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emo-

luminaries like Abelardo Morell, Nick Nixon and

tionally charged and verdant compositions.

Barbara Bosworth, all of whom inspired him to explore his personal life — and his sensitive side

Having grown up part of a progressive work-

— in his work. During class with Ms. Bosworth,

ing-class family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard

students were encouraged to cry as she read

found his footing as a gay young man early. He

poetry aloud. While there, he began documenting

was intrigued by ideas of masculinity, identity and

his relationship with his father.

relationships and quickly turned to that in.

128

DAVID HILLIARD SUBTITLE

At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or

“The photographs are visual possibilities of what

stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon

could be, what might have been, what I’d like to

light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we

be,” Mr. Hilliard said.

age, we enter the twilight of limitless possibility.

his work. “There’s a lot of photographs about

Despite our best intentions, we accept that there

men, myself, strangers, the man I am, the man

are fewer possible selves.

I’m not, the man I want to be, the man I want but can’t have,” Mr. Hilliard said.

But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? What future remains? These are the ques-

During his formative years as an undergraduate

tions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest

at Massachusetts College of Art, he studied under

book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emotion-

luminaries like Abelardo Morell, Nick Nixon and

ally charged and verdant compositions.

Barbara Bosworth, all of whom inspired him to explore his personal life — and his sensitive side

Having grown up part of a progressive working-class

— in his work. During class with Ms. Bosworth,

family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his foot-

students were encouraged to cry as she read

ing as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by

poetry aloud. While there, he began documenting

ideas of masculinity, identity and relationships and

his relationship with his father.

quickly turned to that in.

Caption: re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis voluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae. Feriati dolupta volupt

129

“The work is initially going to be funny-it’s going to stem from these kind of blatant illustrations of accidents around the home. Think about all the things your mother used to tell you never to do.” At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or

“The photographs are visual possibilities of what

stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon

could be, what might have been, what I’d like to

light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we

be,” Mr. Hilliard said.

age, we enter the twilight of limitless possibility.

his work. “There’s a lot of photographs about

Despite our best intentions, we accept that there

men, myself, strangers, the man I am, the man

are fewer possible selves.

I’m not, the man I want to be, the man I want

but can’t have,” Mr. Hilliard said.

been? What future remains? These are the ques-

During his formative years as an undergraduate

tions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest

at Massachusetts College of Art, he studied under

book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emotion-

luminaries like Abelardo Morell, Nick Nixon and

ally charged and verdant compositions.

Barbara Bosworth, all of whom inspired him to

explore his personal life — and his sensitive side

Having grown up part of a progressive working-class

— in his work. During class with Ms. Bosworth,

family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his foot-

students were encouraged to cry as she read

ing as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by

poetry aloud. While there, he began documenting

ideas of masculinity, identity and relationships and

his relationship with his father.

But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have

quickly turned to that in.

130

“

THE PHOTOGRAPHS ARE VISUAL POSSIBILITIES OF WHAT COULD BE, WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN, WHAT I’D LIKE TO BE.

131

At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we age, we enter the twilight of limitless possibility. Despite our best intentions, we accept that there are fewer possible selves. But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? What future remains? These are the questions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emotionally charged and verdant compositions. Having grown up part of a progressive working-class family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his footing as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by ideas of masculinity, identity and relationships and quickly turned to that in.At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we age, we enter the twilight of limitless possibility. Despite our best intentions, we accept that there are fewer possible selves. But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? What future remains? These are the questions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emotionally charged and verdant compositions. Having grown up part of a progressive working-class family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his footing as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by ideas of masculinity, identity and relationships and quickly turned to that in.At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we age, we enter the twilight of limitless possibility. Despite our best intentions, we accept that there are fewer possible selves. But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? What future remains? These are the questions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emotionally charged and verdant compositions. But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? What future remains? These are the questions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emotionally charged and verdant compositions. 7

132

133

In re et que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim quae etur repe sundipis oluptiis sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae.

But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? What future remains? These are the questions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emotionally Having grown up part of a progressive working-class family in charged and verdant compositions. Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his footing as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by ideas of masculinity, identity and re- Having grown up part of a progressive working-class lationships and quickly turned to that in.At first, our choices are family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his footing easy: whether to sit or stand, run stutter-step through the after- as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by ideas noon light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we age, we en- of masculinity, identity and relationships and quickly ter the twilight of limitless possibility. Despite our best intentions, turned to that in.At first, our choices are easy: whethwe accept that there are fewer possible selves. er to sit or stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have we age, we enter the twilight of limitless possibility. been? What future remains? These are the quesDespite our best intentions, we accept that there are 9

134

135

INTIMATE MOMENTS WORK BY DAVID HILLIARD

“The photographs are visual possibilities of what could be, what might have been, what I’d like to be,” Mr. Hilliard said. his work. “There’s a lot of photographs about men, myself, strangers, the man I am, the man I’m not, the man I want to be, the man I want but can’t have,” Mr. Hilliard said. During his formative years as an undergraduate at Massachusetts College of Art, he studied under luminaries like Abelardo Morell, Nick Nixon and Barbara Bosworth, all of whom inspired him to explore his personal life — and his sensitive side — in his work. During class with Ms. Bosworth, students were encouraged to cry as she read poetry aloud. While there, he began his Caption: re etdocumenting que etustest, qui remquatur abo. Dam facerem que ilitati andenim etur repehis sundipisfath voluptiis er. sint velendi iliatiis ipicipsae. Feriati dolupta volupt relationshipquae with

136

137

138

“MY CONNECTION WITH PHOTOGRAPHY WAS PROBABLY DEEP FROM THE BEGINNING, BUT TOOK AWHILE TO REVEAL ITSELF AS SOMETHING MORE PROFOUND.”

139

Having grown up part of a progressive working-class family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard found his footing as a gay young man early. He was intrigued by ideas of masculinity, iden-

140

141

At first, our choices are easy: whether to sit or

“The photographs are visual possibilities of what

stand, run stutter-step through the afternoon

could be, what might have been, what I’d like to

light or rest sweetly in our mother’s lap. As we

be,” Mr. Hilliard said.

age, we enter the twilight of limitless possibility.

his work. “There’s a lot of photographs about

Despite our best intentions, we accept that there

men, myself, strangers, the man I am, the man

are fewer possible selves.

I’m not, the man I want to be, the man I want but can’t have,” Mr. Hilliard said.

But what unforeseen joy or hardship might have been? What future remains? These are the ques-

During his formative years as an undergraduate

tions David Hilliard wrestles with in his newest

at Massachusetts College of Art, he studied un-

book, “What Could Be,” a compendium of emo-

der luminaries like Abelardo Morell, Nick Nixon

tionally charged and verdant compositions.

and Barbara Bosworth, all of whom inspired him to explore his personal life — and his sensitive

Having grown up part of a progressive work-

side — in his work. During class with Ms. Bo-

ing-class family in Lowell, Mass., Mr. Hilliard

sworth, students were encouraged to cry as she

found his footing as a gay young man early. He

read poetry aloud. While there, he began docu-

was intrigued by ideas of masculinity, identity and

menting his relationship with his father.

relationships and quickly turned to that in.

142

143

HISTORIC PHOTOGRAPHER SPREADS

144 IDENTITY

RICHARD VEDON What do Jean Genet, Jimmy Durante, Brigitte Bardot, Georgia O’Keeffe, Jacques Cousteau, Andy Warhol, and Lena Horne have in common? They were a few of the many personalities caught on film by photographer Richard Avedon. For more than fifty years, Richard Avedon’s portraits have filled the pages of the country’s finest magazines. His stark imagery and brilliant insight into his subjects’ characters has made him one of the premier American portrait photographers.

Born in New York in 1923, Richard Avedon dropped out of high school and joined the Merchant Marine’s photographic section. Upon his return in 1944, he found a job as a photographer in a department store. Within two years he had been “found” by an art director at Harper’s Bazaar and was producing work for them as well as Vogue, Look, and a number of other magazines. During the early years, Avedon made his living primarily through work in advertising. His real passion, however, was the portrait and its ability to express the essence of its subject.

145

146 IDENTITY

147

RICHARD AVEDON

148 IDENTITY

149

150 IDENTITY

151

152

153

As Avedon’s notoriety grew, so did the opportunities to meet and photograph celebrities from a broad range of disciplines. Avedon’s ability to present personal views of public figures, who were otherwise distant and inaccessible, was immediately recognized by the public and the celebrities themselves. Many sought out Avedon for their most public images. His artistic style brought a sense of sophistication and authority to the portraits. More than anything, it is Avedon’s ability to set his subjects at ease that helps him create true, intimate, and lasting photographs. Throughout his career Avedon has maintained a unique style all his own. Famous for their minimalism, Avedon portraits are often well lit and in front of white backdrops. When printed, the images regularly contain the dark outline of the film in which the image was framed. Within the minimalism of his empty studio, Avedon’s subjects move freely, and it is this movement which brings a sense of spontaneity to the images. Often containing only a portion of the person being photographed, the images seem intimate in their imperfection. While many photographers are interested in either catching a moment in time or preparing a formal image, Avedon has found a way to do both.

Beyond his work in the magazine industry, Avedon has collaborated on a number of books of portraits. In 1959 he worked with Truman Capote on a book that documented some of the most famous and important people of the century. Observations included images of Buster Keaton, Gloria Vanderbilt, Pablo Picasso, Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer, Frank Lloyd Wright, and Mae West. Around this same time he began a series of images of patients in mental hospitals. Replacing the controlled environment of the studio with that of the hospital he was able to recreate the genius of his other portraits with non-celebrities. The brutal reality of the lives of the insane was a bold contrast to his other work. Years later he would again drift from his celebrity portraits with a series of studio images of drifters, carnival workers, and working class Americans.

154

155 IDENTITY

RICHARD AVEDON What do Jean Genet, Jimmy Durante, Brigitte Bardot, Georgia O’Keeffe, Jacques Cousteau, Andy Warhol, and Lena Horne have in common? They were a few of the many personalities caught on film by photographer Richard Avedon. For more than fifty years, Richard Avedon’s portraits have filled the pages of the country’s finest magazines. His stark imagery and brilliant insight into his subjects’ characters has made him one of the premier American portrait photographers. Born in New York in 1923, Richard Avedon dropped out of high school and joined the Merchant Marine’s photographic section. Upon his return in 1944, he found a job as a photographer in a department store. Within two years he had been “found” by an art director at Harper’s Bazaar and was producing work for them as well as Vogue, Look, and a number of other magazines. During the early years, Avedon made his living primarily through work in advertising. His real passion, however, was the portrait and its ability to express the essence of its subject.

156

157 IDENTITY

158

IDENTITY 159

Throughout the 1960s Avedon continued to work for Harper’s Bazaar and in 1974 he collaborated with James Baldwin on the book Nothing Personal. Having met in New York in 1943, Baldwin and Avedon were friends and collaborators for more than thirty years. For all of the 1970s and 1980s Avedon continued working for Vogue magazine, where he would take some of the most famous portraits of the decades. In 1992 he became the first staff photographer for The New Yorker, and two years later the Whitney Museum brought together fifty years of his work in the retrospective, “Richard Avedon: Evidence”. He was voted one of the ten greatest photographers in the world by Popular Photography magazine, and in 1989 received an honorary doctorate from the Royal College of Art in London. Today, his pictures continue to bring us a closer, more intimate view of the great and the famous.

160

161 IDENTITY

IDENTITY 162

163

Throughout his career Avedon has maintained a unique style all his own. Famous for their minimalism, Avedon portraits are often well lit and in front of white backdrops. When printed, the images regularly contain the dark outline of the film in which the image was framed. Within the minimalism of his empty studio, Avedonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s subjects move freely, and it is this movement which brings a sense of spontaneity to the images. Often containing only a portion of the person being photographed, the images seem intimate in their imperfection. While many photographers are interested in either catching a moment in time or preparing a formal image, Avedon has found a way to do both. Beyond his work in the magazine industry, Avedon has collaborated on a number of books of portraits. In 1959 he worked with Truman Capote on a book that documented some of the most famous and important people of the century. Observations included images of Buster Keaton, Gloria Vanderbilt, Pablo Picasso, Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer, Frank Lloyd Wright, and Mae West. Around this same time he began a series of images of patients in mental hospitals. Replacing the controlled environment of the studio with that of the hospital he was able to recreate the genius of his other portraits with non-celebrities. The brutal reality of the lives of the insane was a bold contrast to his other work. Years later he would again drift from his celebrity portraits with a series of studio images of drifters, carnival workers, and working class Americans.

164 IDENTITY

165

166

167

HISTORIC PHOTOGRAPHER REFINED

IDENTITY | 01

Nastassja Kinski, actress, Los Angeles, June 14, 1981

02 | IDENTITY

EMOTIONAL PORTRAITS RICHARD AVEDON

IDENTITY | 02

Twiggy, Paris, Janurary 6 1968

“I THINK ALL ART IS ABOUT CONTROL - THE ENCOUNTER BETWEEN CONTROL AND THE UNCONTROLLABLE.”

03 | IDENTITY

Veruschka, dress by Bill Blass, New York, January 4 1967

Within two years he had been “found” by an art director at Harper’s Bazaar and was producing work for them as well as Vogue, Look, and a number of other magazines. During the early years, Avedon made his living primarily through work in advertising. His real passion, however, was the portrait and its ability to express the essence of its subject

IDENTITY | 04

Bianca Jagger, Hollywood studio, January 25, 1972

Jean Shrimpton, evening dress by Cardin, Paris, January 1970

05 | IDENTITY

Natalia Semanova, Mouthpiece and Headphones by Tom Binns,

IDENTITY | 04

“ALL PHOTOGRAPHS ARE ACCURATE. NONE OF THEM IS THE TRUTH.” Within the minimalism of his empty studio, Avedon’s subjects move freely, and it is this movement which brings a sense of spontaneity to the images. Often containing only a portion of the person being photographed, the images seem intimate in their imperfection. While many photographers are interested in either catching a moment in time or preparing a formal image, Avedon has found a way to do both. Beyond his work in the magazine industry, Avedon has collaborated on a number of books of portraits. In 1959 he worked with Truman Capote on a book that documented some of the most famous and important people of the century. Observations included images of Buster Keaton, Gloria Vanderbilt, Pablo Picasso, Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer, Frank Lloyd Wright, and Mae West. Around this same time he began a series of images of patients in mental hospitals. Replacing the controlled environment of the studio with that of the hospital he was able to recreate the genius of his other portraits with non-celebrities.

The brutal reality of the lives of the insane was a bold contrast to his other work. Years later he would again drift from his celebrity portraits with a series of studio images of drifters, carnival workers, and working class Americans. Throughout the 1960s Avedon continued to work for Harper’s Bazaar and in 1974 he collaborated with James Baldwin on the book Nothing Personal. Having met in New York in 1943, Baldwin and Avedon were friends and collaborators for more than thirty years. For all of the 1970s and 1980s Avedon continued working for Voguemagazine, where he would take some of the most famous portraits of the decades. In 1992 he became the first staff photographer for The New Yorker, and two years later the Whitney Museum brought together fifty years of his work in the retrospective, “Richard Avedon: Evidence”. He was voted one of the ten greatest photographers in the world by Popular Photography magazine, and in 1989 received an honorary doctorate from the Royal College of Art in London. Today, his pictures continue to bring us a closer, more intimate view of the great and the famous.

05 | IDENTITY

IDENTITY | 04

“I THINK ALL ART IS ABOUT CONTROL - THE ENCOUNTER BETWEEN CONTROL AND THE

What do Jean Genet, Jimmy Durante, Brigitte Bardot, Georgia O’Keeffe, Jacques Cousteau, Andy Warhol, and Lena Horne have in common? They were a few of the many personalities caught on film by photographer Richard Avedon. For more than fifty years, Richard Avedon’s portraits have filled the pages of the country’s finest magazines. His stark imagery and brilliant insight into his subjects’ characters has made him one of the premier American portrait photographers. Born in New York in 1923, Richard Avedon dropped out of high school and joined the Merchant Marine’s photographic section. Upon his return in 1944, he found a job as a photographer in a department store. Within two years he had been “found” by an art director at Harper’s Bazaar and was producing work for them as well as Vogue, Look, and a number of other magazines. During the early years, Avedon made his living primarily through work in advertising. His real passion, however, was the portrait and its ability to express the essence of its subject

05 | IDENT

IDENTITY | 04

“ALL PHOTOGRAPHS ARE ACCURATE. NONE OF THEM IS THE TRUTH.” What do Jean Genet, Jimmy Durante, Brigitte Bardot, Georgia O’Keeffe, Jacques Cousteau, Andy Warhol, and Lena Horne have in common? They were a few of the many personalities caught on film by photographer Richard Avedon. For more than fifty years, Richard Avedon’s portraits have filled the pages of the country’s finest magazines. His stark imagery and brilliant insight into his subjects’ characters has made him one of the premier American portrait photographers. Born in New York in 1923, Richard Avedon dropped out of high school and joined the Merchant Marine’s photographic section. Upon his return in 1944, he found a job as a photographer in a department store. Within two years he had been “found” by an art director at Harper’s Bazaar and was producing work for them as well as Vogue, Look, and a number of other magazines. During the early years, Avedon made his living primarily through work in advertising. His real passion, however, was the portrait and its ability to express the essence of its subject

Within the minimalism of his empty studio, Avedon’s subjects move freely, and it is this movement which brings a sense of spontaneity to the images. Often containing only a portion of the person being photographed, the images seem intimate in their imperfection. While many photographers are interested in either catching a moment in time or preparing a formal image, Avedon has found a way to do both. Beyond his work in the magazine industry, Avedon has collaborated on a number of books of portraits. In 1959 he worked with Truman Capote on a book that documented some of the most famous and important people of the century. Observations included images of Buster Keaton, Gloria Vanderbilt, Pablo Picasso, Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer, Frank Lloyd Wright, and Mae West. Around this same time he began a series of images of patients in mental hospitals. Replacing the controlled environment of the studio with that of the hospital he was able to recreate the genius of his other portraits with non-celebrities.

05 | IDENTITY

IDENTITY | 04

“ALL PHOTOGRAPHS ARE ACCURAT

TE. NONE OF THEM IS THE TRUTH.”

05 | IDENTITY

IDENTITY | 04

05 | IDENTITY

RICHARD AVEDON

EMOTIONAL PORTRAITS What do Jean Genet, Jimmy Durante, Brigitte Bardot, Georgia O’Keeffe, Jacques Cousteau, Andy Warhol, and Lena Horne have in common? They were a few of the many personalities caught on film by photographer Richard Avedon. For more than fifty years, Richard Avedon’s portraits have filled the pages of the country’s finest magazines. His stark imagery and brilliant insight into his subjects’ characters has made him one of the premier American portrait photographers. Born in New York in 1923, Richard Avedon dropped out of high school and joined the Merchant Marine’s photographic section. Upon his return in 1944, he found a job as a photographer in a department store.

SUSAN SONGTAG

IDENTITY

ON PHOTOGRAPHY AN EXCEPT PLATOâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S CAVE

Susan Songtag

IDENTITY

Humankind lingers unregenerately in Plato’s cave, still reveling, its age-old habit, in mere images of the truth. But being educated by photographs is not like being educated by older, more artisanal images. For one thing, there are a great many more images around, claiming our attention. The inventory started in 1839 and since then just about everything has been photographed, or so it seems. This very insatiability of the photographing eye changes the terms of confinement in the cave, our world. In teaching us a new visual code, photographs alter and enlarge our notions of what is worth looking at and what we have a right to observe. They are a grammar and, even more importantly, an ethics of seeing. Finally, the most grandiose result of the photographic enterprise is to give us the sense that we can hold the whole world in our heads -- as an anthology of images. To collect photographs is to collect the world. Movies and television programs light up walls, flicker, and go out; but with still photographs the image is also an object, lightweight, cheap to produce, easy to carry about, accumulate, store. In Godard’s Les Carabiniers (1963), two sluggish lumpen-peasants are lured into joining the King’s Army by the promise that they will be able to loot, rape, kill, or do whatever else they please to the enemy, and get rich. But the suitcase of booty that Michel-Ange and Ulysse triumphantly bring home, years later, to their wives turns out to contain only picture postcards, hundreds of them, of Monuments, Department Stores, Mammals, Wonders of Nature, Methods of Transport, Works of Art, and other classified treasures from around the globe. Godard’s gag vividly parodies the equivocal magic of the photographic image., Photographs are perhaps the most mysterious of all the objects that make up, and thicken, the environment we recognize as modern. Photographs really are experience captured, and the camera is the ideal arm of consciousness in its acquisitive mood. To photograph is to appropriate the thing photographed. It means putting oneself into a certain relation to the world that feels like knowledge -- and, therefore, like power. A now notorious first fall into alienation, habituating people to abstract the world into printed words, is supposed to have engendered that surplus of Faustian energy and psychic damage needed to build modern, inorganic societies. But print seems a less treacherous form of leaching out the world, of turning it into a mental object, than photographic images, which now provide most of the knowledge people have about the look of the past and the reach of the present. What is written about a person or an event is frankly an interpretation, as are handmade visual statements, like paintings and drawings. Photographed images do not seem to be statements about the world so much as pieces of it, miniatures of reality that anyone can make or acquire. Photographs, which fiddle with the scale of the world, themselves get reduced, blown up, cropped, retouched, doctored, tricked out. They age, plagued by the usual ills of paper objects; they disappear; they become valuable, and get bought and sold; they are reproduced. Photographs, which package the world, seem to invite packaging. They are stuck in albums, framed and set on tables, tacked on walls, projected as slides. Newspapers and magazines feature them; cops alphabetize them; museums exhibit them; publishers compile them. For many decades the book has been the most influential way of arranging (and usually miniaturizing) photographs, thereby guaranteeing them longevity, if not immortality -- photographs are fragile objects, easily torn or mislaid -- and a wider public. The photograph in a book is, obviously, the image of an image. But since it is, to begin with, a printed, smooth object, a photograph loses much less of its essential quality when reproduced in a book than a painting does. Still, the book is not a wholly satisfactory scheme for putting groups of photographs into general circulation. The sequence in which the photographs are to be looked at is proposed by the order of pages, but nothing holds readers to the recommended order or indicates the amount of time to be spent on each photograph. Chris Marker’s film, Si j’avais quatre dromadaires (1966), a brilliantly orchestrated meditation on photographs of all sorts and themes, suggests a subtler and more rigorous way of packaging (and enlarging) still photographs. Both the order and the exact time for looking at each photograph are imposed; and there is a gain in visual legibility and emotional impact. But photographs transcribed in a film cease to be collectable objects, as they still are when served up in books.

Photographs furnish evidence. Something we hear about, but doubt, seems proven when we’re shown a photograph of it. In one version of its utility, the camera record incriminates. Starting with their use by the Paris police in the murderous roundup of Communards in June 1871, photographs became a useful tool of modern states in the surveillance and control of their increasingly mobile populations. In another version of its utility, the camera record justifies. A photograph passes for incontrovertible proof that a given thing happened. The picture may distort; but there is always a presumption that something exists, or did exist, which is like what’s in the picture. Whatever the limitations (through amateurism) or pretensions (through artistry) of the individual photographer, a photograph -- any photograph -- seems to have a more innocent, and therefore more accurate, relation to visible reality than do other mimetic objects. Virtuosi of the noble image like Alfred Stieglitz and Paul Strand, composing mighty, unforgettable photographs decade after decade, still want, first of all, to show something “out there,” just like the Polaroid owner for whom photographs are a handy, fast form of note-taking, or the shutterbug with a Brownie who takes snapshots as souvenirs of daily life. While a painting or a prose description can never be other than a narrowly selective interpretation, a photograph can be treated as a narrowly selective transparency. But despite the presumption of veracity that gives all photographs authority, interest, seductiveness, the work that photographers do is no generic exception to the usually shady commerce between art and truth. Even when photographers are most concerned with mirroring reality, they are still haunted by tacit imperatives of taste and conscience. The immensely gifted members of the Farm Security Administration photographic project of the late 1930s (among them Walker Evans, Dorothea Lange, Ben Shahn, Russell Lee) would take dozens of frontal pictures of one of their sharecropper subjects until satisfied that they had gotten just the right look on film -- the precise expression on the subject’s face that supported their own notions about poverty, light, dignity, texture, exploitation, and geometry. In deciding how a picture should look, in preferring one exposure to another, photographers are always imposing standards on their subjects. Although there is a sense in which the camera does indeed capture reality, not just interpret it, photographs are as much an interpretation of the world as paintings and drawings are. Those occasions when the taking of photographs is relatively undiscriminating, promiscuous, or self-effacing do not lessen the didacticism of the whole enterprise. This very passivity -- and ubiquity -- of the photographic record is photography’s “message,” its aggression. Images which idealize (like most fashion and animal photography) are no less aggressive than work which makes a virtue of plainness (like class pictures, still lifes of the bleaker sort, and mug shots). There is an aggression implicit in every use of the camera. This is as evident in the 1840s and 1850s, photography’s glorious first two decades, as in all the succeeding decades, during which technology made possible an ever increasing spread of that mentality which looks at the world as a set of potential photographs. Even for such early masters as David Octavius Hill and Julia Margaret Cameron who used the camera as a means of getting painterly images, the point of taking photographs was a vast departure from the aims of painters. From its start, photography implied the capture of the largest possible number of subjects. Painting never had so imperial a scope. The subsequent industrialization of camera technology only carried out a promise inherent in photography from its very beginning: to democratize all experiences by translating them into images. That age when taking photographs required a cumbersome and expensive contraption -- the toy of the clever, the wealthy, and the obsessed -- seems remote indeed from the era of sleek pocket cameras that invite anyone to take pictures. The first cameras, made in France and England in the early 1840s, had only inventors and buffs to operate them. Since there were then no professional photographers, there could not be amateurs either, and taking photographs had no clear social use; it was a gratuitous, that is, an artistic activity, though with few pretensions to being an art. It was only with its industrialization that photography came into its own as art. As industrialization provided social uses for the operations of the photographer, so the reaction against these uses reinforced the self-consciousness of photography-as-art.

IDENTITY

ON AN EXCEPT PLATOâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S CAVE

PHOTOGRAPHY Susan Songtag

IDENTITY

To democratize all experiences by translating them into images. Humankind lingers unregenerately in Plato’s cave, still reveling, its age-old habit, in mere images of the truth. But being educated by photographs is not like being educated by older, more artisanal images. For one thing, there are a great many more images around, claiming our attention. The inventory started in 1839 and since then just about everything has been photographed, or so it seems. This very insatiability of the photographing eye changes the terms of confinement in the cave, our world. In teaching us a new visual code, photographs alter and enlarge our notions of what is worth looking at and what we have a right to observe. They are a grammar and, even more importantly, an ethics of seeing. Finally, the most grandiose result of the photographic enterprise is to give us the sense that we can hold the whole world in our heads -- as an anthology of images. To collect photographs is to collect the world. Movies and television programs light up walls, flicker, and go out; but with still photographs the image is also an object, lightweight, cheap to produce, easy to carry about, accumulate, store. In Godard’s Les Carabiniers (1963), two sluggish lumpen-peasants are lured into joining the King’s Army by the promise that they will be able to loot, rape, kill, or do whatever else they please to the enemy, and get rich. But the suitcase of booty that Michel-Ange and Ulysse triumphantly bring home, years later, to their wives turns out to contain only picture postcards, hundreds of them, of Monuments, Department Stores, Mammals, Wonders of Nature, Methods of Transport, Works of Art, and other classified treasures from around the globe. Godard’s gag vividly parodies the equivocal magic of the photographic image., Photographs are perhaps the most mysterious of all the objects that make up, and thicken, the environment we recognize as modern. Photographs really are experience captured, and the camera is the ideal arm of consciousness in its acquisitive mood. To photograph is to appropriate the thing photographed. It means putting oneself into a certain relation to the world that feels like knowledge -- and, therefore, like power. A now notorious first fall into alienation, habituating people to abstract the world into printed words, is supposed to have engendered that surplus of Faustian energy and psychic damage needed to build modern, inorganic societies. But print seems a less treacherous form of leaching out the world, of turning it into a mental object, than photographic images, which now provide most of the knowledge people have about the look of the past and the reach of the present. What is written about a person or an event is frankly an interpretation, as are handmade visual statements, like paintings and drawings. Photographed images do not seem to be statements about the world so much as pieces of it, miniatures of reality that anyone can make or acquire. Photographs, which fiddle with the scale of the world, themselves get reduced, blown up, cropped, retouched, doctored, tricked out. They age, plagued by the usual ills of paper objects; they disappear; they become valuable, and get bought and sold; they are reproduced. Photographs, which package the world, seem to invite packaging. They are stuck in albums, framed and set on tables, tacked on walls, projected as slides. Newspapers and magazines feature them; cops alphabetize them; museums exhibit them; publishers compile them. For many decades the book has been the most influential way of arranging (and usually miniaturizing) photographs, thereby guaranteeing them longevity, if not immortality -- photographs are fragile objects, easily torn or mislaid -- and a wider public. The photograph in a book is, obviously, the image of an image. But since it is, to begin with, a printed, smooth object, a photograph loses much less of its essential quality when reproduced in a book than a painting does. Still, the book is not a wholly satisfactory scheme for putting groups of photographs into general circulation. The sequence in which the photographs are to be looked at is proposed by the order of pages, but nothing holds readers to the recommended order or indicates the amount of time to be spent on each photograph. Chris Marker’s film, Si j’avais quatre dromadaires (1966), a brilliantly orchestrated meditation on photographs of all sorts and themes, suggests a subtler and more rigorous way of packaging (and enlarging) still photographs. Both the order and the exact time for looking at each photograph are imposed; and there is a gain in visual legibility and emotional impact. But photographs transcribed in a film cease to be collectable objects, as they still are when served up in books.

IDENTITY

ON PHOTO Humankind lingers unregenerately in Plato’s cave, still reveling, its age-old habit, in mere images of the truth. But being educated by photographs is not like being educated by older, more artisanal images. For one thing, there are a great many more images around, claiming our attention. The inventory started in 1839 and since then just about everything has been photographed, or so it seems. This very insatiability of the photographing eye changes the terms of confinement in the cave, our world. In teaching us a new visual code, photographs alter and enlarge our notions of what is worth looking at and what we have a right to observe. They are a grammar and, even more importantly, an ethics of seeing. Finally, the most grandiose result of the photographic enterprise is to give us the sense that we can hold the whole world in our heads -- as an anthology of images. To collect photographs is to collect the world. Movies and television programs light up walls, flicker, and go out; but with still photographs the image is also an object, lightweight, cheap to produce, easy to carry about, accumulate, store. In Godard’s Les Carabiniers (1963), two sluggish lumpen-peasants are lured into joining the King’s Army by the promise that they will be able to loot, rape, kill, or do whatever else they please to the enemy, and get rich. But the suitcase of booty that Michel-Ange and Ulysse triumphantly bring home, years later, to their wives turns out to contain only picture postcards, hundreds of them, of Monuments, Department Stores, Mammals, Wonders of Nature, Methods of Transport, Works of Art, and other classified treasures from around the globe. Godard’s gag vividly parodies the equivocal magic of the photographic image., Photographs are perhaps the most mysterious of all the objects that make up, and thicken, the environment we recognize as modern. Photographs really are experience captured, and the camera is the ideal arm of consciousness in its acquisitive mood. To photograph is to appropriate the thing photographed. It means putting oneself into a certain relation to the world that feels like knowledge -- and, therefore, like power. A now notorious first fall into alienation, habituating people to abstract the world into printed words, is supposed to have engendered that surplus of Faustian energy and psychic damage needed to build modern, inorganic societies. But print seems a less treacherous form of leaching out the world, of turning it into a mental object, than photographic images, which now provide most of the knowledge people have about the look of the past and the reach of the present. What is written about a person or an event is frankly an interpretation, as are handmade visual statements, like paintings and drawings. Photographed images do not seem to be statements about the world so much as pieces of it, miniatures of reality that anyone can make or acquire.

pieces of it, miniatures of reality that anyone can make or acquire. Photographs, which fiddle with the scale of the world, themselves get reduced, blown up, cropped, retouched, doctored, tricked out. They age, plagued by the usual ills of paper objects; they disappear; they become valuable, and get bought and sold; they are reproduced. Photographs, which package the world, seem to invite packaging. They are stuck in albums, framed and set on tables, tacked on walls, projected as slides. Newspapers and magazines feature them; cops alphabetize them; museums exhibit them; publishers compile them. For many decades the book has been the most influential way of arranging (and usually miniaturizing) photographs, thereby guaranteeing them longevity, if not immortality -- photographs are fragile objects, easily torn or mislaid -- and a wider public. The photograph in a book is, obviously, the image of an image. But since it is, to begin with, a printed, smooth object, a photograph loses much less of its essential quality when reproduced in a book than a painting does. Still, the book is not a wholly satisfactory scheme for putting groups of photographs into general circulation. The sequence in which the photographs are to be looked at is proposed by the order of pages, but nothing holds readers to the recommended order or indicates the amount of time to be spent on each photograph. Chris Marker’s film, Si j’avais quatre dromadaires (1966), a brilliantly orchestrated meditation on photographs of all sorts and themes, suggests a subtler and more rigorous way of packaging (and enlarging) still photographs. Both the order and the exact time for looking at each photograph are imposed; and there is a gain in visual legibility and emotional impact. But photographs transcribed in a film cease to be collectable objects, as they still are when served up in books.

IDENTITY

OGRAPHY AN EXCEPT PLATO’S CAVE

Susan Songtag

Images which idealize (like most fashion and animal photography) are no less aggressive than work which makes a virtue of plainness (like class pictures, still lifes of the bleaker sort, and mug shots). There is an aggression implicit in every use of the camera. This is as evident in the 1840s and 1850s, photography’s glorious first two decades, as in all the succeeding decades, during which technology made possible an ever increasing spread of that mentality which looks at the world as a set of potential photographs. Even for such early masters as David Octavius Hill and Julia Margaret Cameron who used the camera as a means of getting painterly images, the point of taking photographs was a vast departure from the aims of painters. From its start, photography implied the capture of the largest possible number of subjects. Painting never had so imperial a scope. The subsequent industrialization of camera technology only carried out a promise inherent in photography from its very beginning: to democratize all experiences by translating them into images. That age when taking photographs required a cumbersome and expensive contraption -- the toy of the clever, the wealthy, and the obsessed -- seems remote indeed from the era of sleek pocket cameras that invite anyone to take pictures. The first cameras, made in France and England in the early 1840s, had only inventors and buffs to operate them. Since there were then no professional photographers, there could not be amateurs either, and taking photographs had no clear social use; it was a gratuitous, that is, an artistic activity, though with few pretensions to being an art. It was only with its industrialization that photography came into its own as art. As industrialization provided social uses for the operations of the photographer, so the reaction against these uses reinforced the self-consciousness of photography-as-art.