Posted by John Clulow on November 23, 2012 at 8:05 AM
It's a cold "Black Friday" here in the Windy City, Chicagoland. And not much going on for ChicagoJohn to comment on.
So, anticipating another no-response response to the image I just posted on our Photo Art forum, I just thought "WTF, spill your guts". (I am using my poetic license in that rhyme.)
When I was a young boy, I heard on my transitor radio, which at the time seemed miraculous, about a poem that was very controvercial. It had been included in an anthology that was compiled by George Plimpton, and each entry in it received a $500 award.
When I was in public school, we had to memorize and recite these really long, inane poems in front of the class, poems like "Leaves of Grass"
To me, all of this was anti-poetic.
So I really, really, really appreciated the poem I heard about on my radio that day, miraculous as it was as you didn't have to plug it in. It was so easy to memorize, impossible to recite, and contained within its core the essence of the limits of poetry, the limits of language, music, and all sound, and the transcendent nature of light.
This poem was, simply, "lighght".
It was presented in the center of a single, white page. It wasn't titled, where was the rhyme, I thought?
In retrospect, this was a kind of Zen koan that Aram Saroyan had written; driving the mind to ask questions, questions that could open a door to liberation; worth every penny, if you ask me.
If he had written "Light", not; but he didn't: He wrote "lighght"; emphasizing the silent "gh" in that English word.
I was a scientist back then with a chemistry lab in my basement. I almost blew up the house on a few occasions, something my father was certain would happen, but he let me do what I was doing anyway; and it did almost happen several times -- almost... luckily, I retained my sight.
So when I heard about this poem, I thought about how it had been engineered by Saroyan to that "gh" we normally just gloss over in English, that silent "gh", through repitition.
Sound; music and poetry et al; cannot travel in a vacuum whereas that is the preferred "medium" of light. But light, perhaps not visible light but light more broadly defined as the electromagnetic spectrum, can travel everywhere. So there is a distinction to be drawn between the media of the muse and that of the photographer.
If we were in outer space and a light beam went past us at right angles with nothing there to reflect it into our eyes, it would be invisible; like the visual equivalent of the silent "gh" in the English word for light.
Yet in photography, we are, for the most part, capturing the impact of these otherwise silent photons through how what we regard as "the world" causes them to be reflected and diverted.
So In this image I just posted, the intent was to abstract that idea in a minimalist way, and then to have that image signed, as we see many images signed, by light itself, using Saroyan's poem.
I thought it would be more appropriate to explain all of this here in this part of the forums. Based upon the response to my previous question, I'm not too worried about anyone reading it.
Posted by Lon Overacker on November 24, 2012 at 2:15 AM
Sound; music and poetry et al; cannot travel in a vacuum whereas that is the preferred "medium" of light. But light, perhaps not visible light but light more broadly defined as the electromagnetic spectrum, can travel everywhere. So there is a distinction to be drawn between the media of the muse and that of the photographer.
To be perfectly honest, I had not heard of Saroyan before, nor the term or "poem," "Lighght." I think the quote above kind of sums things up, although I'm not sure how one draws that conclusion from a single word..... but that's another discussion.
But I think you've kind of summed up the literal definition of photography, and that is the "writing with or of light." Because you're right, without light, there is no photography and certainly no photographic art.
Thanks for sharing John. Your comments and critiques are appreciated.
Discussion
1 repliesSo, anticipating another no-response response to the image I just posted on our Photo Art forum, I just thought "WTF, spill your guts". (I am using my poetic license in that rhyme.)
When I was a young boy, I heard on my transitor radio, which at the time seemed miraculous, about a poem that was very controvercial. It had been included in an anthology that was compiled by George Plimpton, and each entry in it received a $500 award.
When I was in public school, we had to memorize and recite these really long, inane poems in front of the class, poems like "Leaves of Grass"
To me, all of this was anti-poetic.
So I really, really, really appreciated the poem I heard about on my radio that day, miraculous as it was as you didn't have to plug it in. It was so easy to memorize, impossible to recite, and contained within its core the essence of the limits of poetry, the limits of language, music, and all sound, and the transcendent nature of light.
This poem was, simply, "lighght".
It was presented in the center of a single, white page. It wasn't titled, where was the rhyme, I thought?
In retrospect, this was a kind of Zen koan that Aram Saroyan had written; driving the mind to ask questions, questions that could open a door to liberation; worth every penny, if you ask me.
If he had written "Light", not; but he didn't: He wrote "lighght"; emphasizing the silent "gh" in that English word.
I was a scientist back then with a chemistry lab in my basement. I almost blew up the house on a few occasions, something my father was certain would happen, but he let me do what I was doing anyway; and it did almost happen several times -- almost... luckily, I retained my sight.
So when I heard about this poem, I thought about how it had been engineered by Saroyan to that "gh" we normally just gloss over in English, that silent "gh", through repitition.
Sound; music and poetry et al; cannot travel in a vacuum whereas that is the preferred "medium" of light. But light, perhaps not visible light but light more broadly defined as the electromagnetic spectrum, can travel everywhere. So there is a distinction to be drawn between the media of the muse and that of the photographer.
If we were in outer space and a light beam went past us at right angles with nothing there to reflect it into our eyes, it would be invisible; like the visual equivalent of the silent "gh" in the English word for light.
Yet in photography, we are, for the most part, capturing the impact of these otherwise silent photons through how what we regard as "the world" causes them to be reflected and diverted.
So In this image I just posted, the intent was to abstract that idea in a minimalist way, and then to have that image signed, as we see many images signed, by light itself, using Saroyan's poem.
I thought it would be more appropriate to explain all of this here in this part of the forums. Based upon the response to my previous question, I'm not too worried about anyone reading it.
To be perfectly honest, I had not heard of Saroyan before, nor the term or "poem," "Lighght." I think the quote above kind of sums things up, although I'm not sure how one draws that conclusion from a single word..... but that's another discussion.
But I think you've kind of summed up the literal definition of photography, and that is the "writing with or of light." Because you're right, without light, there is no photography and certainly no photographic art.
Thanks for sharing John. Your comments and critiques are appreciated.
Lon