Simple and humble . . .

Taking a few days off and once again tinkering with my photography.  Also, once again hiding out from the heat in the lower depths of the house -- soon I may turn into a mushroom!

I keep finding new methods, then try to take some time to learn the steps.  Sometimes it doesn't work out; sometimes it does.  I had been reading in The American Art Review about an exhibit that has been touring the country, TruthBeauty: Pictorialism and the Photograph as Art, and was intrigued by the images from the exhibit. 


I have always been attracted to the works of Julia Margaret Cameron, some of which are quite famous, of Alfred Steiglitz and Edward Steichen, so famous they are iconic.  But this exhibit also surveyed other photographers, such as Peter Henry Emerson, who worked more with pastoral landscapes.


In some ways, I think the Pictorialists were reacting to the growing industrialism in America and Europe, as were the American Tonalists -- thus the softened edges, the muted hues and colors, the graininess of the image, creating works that seemed to harken back to earlier times.  

Today I used the early light of an overcast day to capture these two images, more interested in evoking those same sensibilities, but also to celebrate the elemental beauty of these pots.  Over the years I have collected a few stoneware and raku pots.  There is no perfection evident here, merely intriguing surfaces that are worked, chipped, scarred and, in the case of the raku, burnt.

I don't paint still life.  Every time I have tried, the image is flat and dull, lifeless.  But with the camera, still life can be evocative, almost painterly.  So in a way I am able to pay homage to these simple vessels that have served a multitude of purposes.

I'll continue to fiddle and tweak to see what else I can come up with -- and perhaps use these images to create some paintings.  We'll see.  For now I am pleased with today's "fiddling" . . .

Blessed are they who see 
beautiful things in humble places

where other people see nothing. 

Camille Pissarro