Mirrors and Windows (by John Szarkowski)

Photography is probably one the the simpler art forms to participate in considering how affordable it is, the quickness in which results are produced and also due to the fact that it is the one medium that serves several purposes outside of artistic, (snapshot, art, comercial, historical reference etc.). Painters paint, sculptors sculpt and craftsmen craft aesthetically beautiful objects that serve a purpose, and therefore in the art worlds longest living argument, is then not considered art. The cameras most basic desire currently is to record historical information primarily in the form of birthday party, graduation, spring break, the family trip to the cider mill during the fall foliage...the list goes on. However, for as many photos as my pop took while I was growing up, never did I look at them with artistic intent because they were of the nature previously stated. Every now and then a sunset would strike his fancy and low and behold my brother and I were (very temporarily and courteously) astonished with his ability to point and click with his Kodak disk camera. I don’t intend to sound snide or derogatory but my dad “took” photos. Taking photos being that idea of capturing a moment of time that has already been very simply provided for you by someone or something else with your creative talents reduced to a minimum. There was rarely a preconceived notion of what he wanted to accomplish, other than what might end up to be the last photo of great aunt Gertie before she (as he put it) was “walking with St. Peter”. I often find myself making images with what is provided, aiming my sights at context and meaning, then tying it together with appropriate imagery. I think it was Matisse (as well as many other artists) who painted what was immediately around them. One thing that pops in my mind is when he moved to the north of France and produced studies of the woman he rented from, a very large woman with nine children who worked in the fields plowing and harvesting all day. Of course traveling about is an ideal way to find what you have not seen before but do not hesitate to observe what is beneath your nose, it is not necessary to go far to produce great imagery.
If the photo is the end result of the photographer and the painting or sculpture are the end results of their respective artists, what can be said about the number of photographs, sculptures and paintings produced by “artists”? Clearly the photos outnumber the paintings and sculptures by an enormous amount, but of those photos, what percentage may be considered artistic? I still “take pictures” and always will, I am a photographer more so than the average bear among my family and friends. I think it is easy to take pictures, but making them is another story. The idea of “taking” seems to be an inappropriate expression for photography, but once again it is that medium that serves several purposes in the end; it is that idea that differentiates photography from other art forms and gives it a multi-dimensional aspect. It allows the masses to point and click, take the image to the printer and then to the framer and then to the family member who hangs it on the wall. So who gets the credit? After all, the person who pressed the shutter gets the credit but was only responsible for a fraction of the outcome (and I didn’t even mention the foolproof camera he was using). So is it context that seperates all those images? When, where or how is the photographer expressing themselves or exploring their surroundings? That is very important and in many cases the deciding factor in a mediocre image and a great one, but technical skill, luck and a solid understanding of photography and photographs play a pivotal role with each factor holding a varying degree of importance according to individual images. Colin Westerbeck parallels my thoughts here in a review he wrote about Szarkowskis show. In that review he states, “a score of...vernacular functions that were once thought to require the special skills of a professional photographer are now increasingly being performed by naive amateurs with sophisticated cameras”. There is something about patience and the duration of time that people see as being mandatory in order to produce art (good or bad). I have spent plenty of time on what turns out to be crap. But due to my short attention span and lack of patience, photography developed into my creative outlet over a decade ago. It is always Andy Warhol who I refer to and use in my defense when I need to argue the point that art need not take weeks or months to produce and the assembly line style with multiple artist (apprentice) working under you still produces art. Duchamp in an extremely controversial and hasty manner created peices from a urinal and a hatrack and called it art. Yes, that is at the far end of the spectrum in the idea I am arguing but nonetheless an important one; in reference to art and the two artists stated...this is a subjective, individually opinionated field.
In Douglas Crimps article “The Museum’s Old/The Library’s New Subject”, he introduces the idea that even though photography was invented in and around 1839 it was not until 120 years later that it was discovered. A very young means of expression when placed next to classic art mediums. I think it is the ease (comparitively) that imagery is produced that took photography so long to be recognized as an art form and was referred to as non-traditional. Also, according to Szarkowski, the downfall of photography in photojournalism with its replacement, the television, photographers were left to pursue more personal and private matters and perhaps focus energy towards an artistic venue. It was up to this time in and around the end of the 1950’s that photography was not entirely considered an art form. In that decade where the professional aspect of photography declined there were a few other factors that led to photography making more of a name for itself. Two events include the beginning of Minor Whites magazine “Aperture” in the early 1950’s and Robert Franks controversial book on American society titled “Les Americains” in 1958. Here are two events related to the show “Mirrors and Windows” that occurred at a crucial time in photographic history that helped propel it to a level not yet seen in the art community. A fraction of the photographic genres that Szarkowski displayed represents the photographer using his skills to interpret his vision of the world and secondly the method in which a photographer presents hard facts of our society to us with creative and technical talent. Determining the difference between the two always leaves room for speculation and criticism but it is Szarkowski’s job to seperate the two and our job to criticize. There are situations when an image may fit in both catergories and times when it is appearant that they belong in only one, my fine line is not so fine. Very often it is a thick grayscale spectrum with neither the whitest white nor the deepest black.
Since my advent into the academic aspect of photography there has always been a notion that it is difficult to decide on the “end” of your finished product. Just recently I watched a journalist ask Jackson Pollock’ “When do you know you are finished making a painting?” Pollocks answer was, “How do you know when you are done making love?” Be aware that this is a film with a directors interpretation but the answer in the form of another question proposes the subjective quality in art. An artist may be confident that his art is in fact finished until viewed by others that may say it could be further adjusted in several ways. The point here being that it is individual perspective that decides on a peice being complete. As an art form this idea can be argued endlessly, but from my realist point of view in the commercial side of photography the creative talents of the artist have more of a precise goal that may be more easily attained.
Colin Westerbeck argues similar points in Szarkowski's show “Mirrors and Windows”, the idea of the photographer taking a photo as a mirror of their self expression, or using their photography as a window of investigation or exploration is the underlying meaning of this show. I believe that Szarkowski did a fantastic job putting this show together with his selection of artits as well as his idea behind the show. It adds much more depth and perspective to the overall tone and causes the viewer to react to an image as som

Movie Review: Munich

Once again Steven Spielberg provides a compelling, gripping and realistic depiction of an event that shaped world history. He provides a truthful and well-rounded representation of the people involved and how they were affected. Through a non-biased portrayal Spielberg supplies the viewer with the tragic events at the Munich Olympic games of 1972 and also the chess match that follows in the European arena. After leaving the theater the least Munich will leave you with is sufficient entertainment and a better understanding of a portion of history.
Avner, played by Eric Bana, is the protagonists who, along with four other men, are assigned the job of assassinating 11 individuals who had a hand in the preparation and execution of the hostage situation that left 9 Israeli Olympic Athletes dead.
The stage is set when the Palestinian terrorist organization "Black September" takes 11 Israeli athletes hostage. Through an unknown set of circumstances negotiations go awry and hostages and terrorists alike die. Munich does not focus on the events that happened in the Olympic village but primarily the aftermath. Although Spielberg provides a realistic artistic interpretation of non-fiction events in graphic reality the audience should be warned about his realism. The scenes are not as brutal as the first 15 minutes of "Saving Private Ryan" but an "R" rating is appropriate considering the murder that takes place. Spielberg's uses his characters through conversation to define what is murder and what I would call "justifiable killing". There is a solid amount of necessary ambiguity throughout this movie and the ability to provide information from either side is what Spielberg does well. The Palestinians call it murder when a member from their group is killed but when they do the same, it is rationalized as a legitimate act.
There is another ambiguous aspect present that underlies much of the plot. It is a value that mankind favors tremendously but only for their own kind. This value that almost everyone shares but is very discriminate when it comes to race, color and especially religion. That value is the family. Several instances throughout the movie there is reference to how important the family is to your people. However it is interesting that this value is placed only on your family and those families important to you. I found it thought provoking that if people could only place that family value on others in the same context that they place that value on their own there would be considerable less bloodshed on this earth. However, as a genius man once stated, "As long as there is man there shall be war".
As with any family or people in general one of a number of things brings us together. The kitchen, food, the dinner table or a meal brings us together. It is a place to sit and nourish the body. It is something that we as humans have in common as a basic need. Spielberg redundantly displays this idea in the courtyard cafes of Paris, the safe houses throughout Europe and the informant's secret villa outside Rome. There are a few scenes in Paris that take place on the sidewalk by the same storefront displaying the modern kitchen. Avner and his accomplices are very often making meals for themselves discussing at the dinner table the business that is in front as well as behind them. The villa proved to be the crowning achievement as friend, family and conspirators joined together and put their differences aside to share a common necessity. It is here that the family aspect is driven home and also the value of your own family. It is they who are important, not the families of your enemy.
There is a casual feeling throughout the movie that is hard to grasp. Perhaps it is because I have never been a hired killer, but the way these people handle their job is much like we do everyday. It is something we are used to and feel comfortable performing certain duties day in and day out. In their case it is point blank gun shots, carrying out a sequence of events in order to get the right person by means of plastic explosives or a military assault on a Beirut nerve center.
You cannot help but feel remorseful for the people who end up on anyone's "list". But when you consider the actions these people have committed or perpetrated you find a way to sympathize with the killers when they question the right or wrong of their actions. Again Spielberg provides an ambiguous situation for the moviegoer to decide which side of the fence they are on this time.
Throughout the movie Spielberg uses flashback to remind the audience as to why Avner and his gang are on this mission. No one will ever know the exact details as to what became of those Israeli hostages so we rely on Hollywood to re-enact it for our benefit. These flashbacks coincide with a particular time when a life is taken. The character becomes not a killer, but a person who is judging himself as a result of the action he committed. You feel yourself in his shoes, then feel yourself in the shoes of the hostages in the following scene and realize there is right in actions considered universally wrong.
This is a fantastic journey into 1970's European espionage, no not James Bond but the spy games you could envision a friend of yours being involved with. It is a somewhat normal group of individuals asked to perform a complicated task by working as a team and bringing all their intelligence together. Several twists and turns can be expected in this cat and mouse game. Dark street corners and hotel room doors ajar keep the audience on the edge of their seat wondering who to trust while there are those that work for money, not people.

Personal Significance

I was at an age where responsibility was something new to me and I was being tested quite often. I recall traveling at a dangerous speed, trying to grasp for the first time what a G-force really meant and felt like. We used to call it “booking”, and it meant you were going pretty fast either on foot or bike. But why? Probably because you were throwing snowballs or tomatoes at cars, then the tires squealed as the brakes burned hot and the passenger door flew open. That was your signal to take off. Yeah, I was that kind of kid…sometimes.
I had no lights, reflective clothing or bright colors. Not even a helmet, we didn’t consider that. That was reserved for motorcycles, racecar drivers and stuntmen. I may have not been one of the first two, but in my mind as well as a few others, I was a stuntman. And damn proud of it!
I didn’t want to get grounded and I didn’t mean to push the limits. But I was having such a great time, hanging out with an older crowd, being seen out later than most kids my age. I had this new feeling, I felt that I could do more and go places without asking permission. I was still held accountable for my actions; I realized that along with independence comes more responsibility and consequences.
I was breathing so heavy trying to get home on time. It was light enough that I could see where I was going, dusk was setting in so that cars wouldn’t recognize me before it was too late…for me. There was that flicker and faint sounding buzz that always happens when streetlights warm up. Watching one after the other appear made me pedal faster. Were mom and dad home? Did they step out for a bit? Yeah, technically the streetlights are on, but for like what…three minutes? I was late but not that late, do they let me slide with a stern warning or was there a lesson to be learned here?
Wagon, tricycle, green machine, bike with training wheels, bike without training wheels, BMX, 10-speed…do you see the progression? Guys always want wheels. Why? Because it means you can go faster! Go faster strictly for the sake OF GOING FASTER. It means you can get from one place to the other faster. It represents freedom, freedom from the shackles of embarrassment when mom drops you off at school or soccer practice in the “grocery getter”. Freedom to come and go as you please, reliance and dependence were becoming a thing of the past. I didn’t realize that then because I was too caught up in the euphoric moment of growing up.
A bike is not just means of transportation. It’s a learning tool that teaches countless lessons to boys and girls growing up around the world. It sets forth a new set of limitless choices for kids.
I remember getting my driver’s license and how I felt that things were really going to change now. I think every sixteen-year-old viewed that time in his or her life as pivotal. There is this coming of age time that defines our personality, those present actions determine our future and become that past that shapes us. SE Hinton elaborates fantastically on this topic in her ever-popular “That Was Then, This Is Now”. Much like a pet is the precursor and training tool that sets up couples for parenthood, the bicycle in a similar sense prepares kids for a future of responsibility and choice.

Bandit and Mount of the Holy Cross