Much has been written on the impact of photography on the way we see things, its place amongst the visual arts, and its role in witnessing and documenting many aspects of our lives. I used The Burning Mirror, photography by an ambivalent light by Melissa Miles (published in 2008) as my main reference. And yet, it still remains a challenge to write about visual images because they can speak directly to us in their own language. Their silence is part of their mystique.

In his book Ways of Seeing, based on a series of four lectures he presented on BBC television in 1972, John Berger claims that the camera destroyed the idea that images were timeless and that photography changes the way in which we view paintings. When a camera reproduces an image he argues, it destroys its uniqueness. The historian Anthony Beevoir said in a radio broadcast I heard recently, that photography changes the way history is recorded, but he did not say whether he thought that this was a good or a bad thing.

 I would argue that the changes noted by Berger and Beevoir are both positive attributes of the medium. Photography, as it makes images more accessible, gives us the opportunity to appreciate more widely our world and its art than would otherwise be possible, even though in the words of Susan Sontag (On Photography 1977) it can never be more than ‘a trace of the real thing’.

Like many photographers Peter has been influenced by traditional landscape photography, and The Edge Collective works within its local but remote landscape. The ‘edge’ of the collective also refers to the fact that through our art we seek to raise awareness of contemporary issues and we place ourselves within the frame of contemporary art practice. 

Although Peter does not limit himself to traditional landscapes, the image below is a good example of his work to have in mind for the beginning of our discussion.

When Peter’s image brings the viewer to this place he can give her / him infinite time in which to contemplate and appreciate its subtleties and complexities. Through a combination of Peter’s technological skill and his ever-watchful well-trained eye the places in his images speak directly to us. As in the best writing, there are no tricks needed.

 

at the same time, Peter’s art remains essentially as enigmatic as the places he photographs, but to help me something of his approach, I sent him an email with two questions.

Question 1:

It is all too easy to assume that every photograph is a depiction of reality and all the photographer has to do is to point the camera in the right direction and click. Why then, does an amateur photographer such as myself, after taking endless photos of dramatic sunsets for example, fail to capture the essence of  the subject?

Peter’s answer:  ‘Many of us take photos and wonder why they don’t seem to capture the view or scene before our own eyes. Often we are disappointed that the sunset or early morning mist is not displayed in the spectacular way it appeared in live view. So, I would like to think that with some knowledge of exposure, current digital technologies and the art of composition, I can capture an image, so that others can enjoy the "live view" without disappointment’.

Question 2:

What makes a good photograph and how do you know when you’ve got one?

Peter’s answer: ‘Sometimes you know you have good photograph before you take it, but often that’s not the case. Sometimes it becomes more apparent on the computer screen or much later, when reviewing the photos.

There are many elements that make a good photograph. Recently I have researched composition in more depth and believe it is of basic but prime importance in photography. The ‘rule of thirds’ underpins my thinking here. For example:

There are also more subtle approaches to consider. Improvisation might be a word to use here. Henri Cartier- Bresson’s (French 20th century) photographs provide compositional unity but with further analysis we find some variations to the traditional rule of thirds. Cartier–Bresson is recognised for framing his shots ‘in camera’ rather than relying on cropping. I am learning to better frame my shots but still rely heavily on the ability to crop easily using the computer.

Cartier-Bresson also spoke of the precise moment. Timing is the next thing to consider. As well as composition, landscape photography is about getting the lighting right, which is about timing – the time of year, the time of day, those few seconds when nature provides a display that is a short or rare event.’

Like all other creative artists, photographers succeed when they understand their potential and limits of their materials – primarily their equipment and light. Beyond this, in the words of Christopher Allen’s ( Australian Weekend Review, 19 – 09 – 09):

‘The challenge for photography is to transcend detail and become a poetic composition.’

Peter’s images change the way we see and think about landscape, and they meet the challenge of transcending detail. The camera frames, captures and records images using light as its medium. Light, borrows mystique from sun and fire, it is mediated by dust and water, it fills valleys with varying moods and colors, it mediates the sense of distance. The image may be in Susan Sontag’s words ‘a stencil of the real thing’ but as the light connects the image to the original place creates its own space with its own topography. 

In the words of Native American writer Scott Momaday, introducing Secrets from the Center of the World, a book of poems and photographs of Navajo Country by poet Joy Harjo, a member of the Creek Nation and photographer Stephen Strom, it is the ‘. . .  coming together of the seer and the seen, the singer and the song. It is an immediate and essential thing.’

Elsewhere in Secrets, Joy Harjo says ‘the camera becomes the space you move through into the powerful landscapes that he (Stephen Strom) photographs. 

The space Peter’s photographs create present a challenge for me to write in and that is to find the right words not to describe them, but to evoke their invisible and hidden layers of meaning. For example.

Beyond that, in the inevitable gap between the image and the words I sense a space where the essence of the place remains, perpetually beyond the grasp of words. I think of it as a space which exists to invite us to contemplate the nature of our being in the world.

This example below is from a Powerpoint presentation we prepared after the River Walk organized by the Shepparton Gallery in August (and I hope to report on this in more detail soon):

photo with text/framed by the void (Goulburn River)

Photography facilitates the interpretation of place and even though it is removable from its source, arguably appropriates the place and gives rise to the deliberations of theorists and critics.

Sari