One of my favorite quotations is from Claude Monet stating:
In order to see, we must forget the name of the thing we’re looking at.
I’ve seen this sentiment appear in advice from many other artists and famously implemented by Edward Weston in his pepper series photographs. This way of thinking is probably known by every kid on the planet who looks up at a sky of clouds and asked: “what do you see?” An exercise in imagination that seems to become more rigid as we get older.
That premise seems predicated on an assignment to see something other than clouds as if to give the kid that replies “CLOUDS!” a failing grade. So while I have always kept this advice in my head when looking for new and interesting photographs, I am also keenly aware that often I also see nothing but a cloud. Self-judgment kicks in to scold my lack of imagination, along with a flood of excuses – I am tired or just not feeling it today. You can try to forcefully hit the imagination lighter all you want, but if there is no spark, there will be no fire.
There are other times when the possible answers to “what else it is” seem to be influenced by some other external influence. Something that causes that spark. Maybe a kid loves dinosaurs, so every cloud becomes a dinosaur. Interestingly, Weston expressed some frustration by interpretations of his pepper series as if to cage them with certain meanings. It seems once a fire is lit, it can burn in a direction you didn’t intend. So it makes me wonder if something can be truly free and open of being anything. Human nature seems uncomfortable with the aspect of leaving something undefined for very long.
The photo in this post is of some tree bark from a large Silver Maple in my yard. I made it a few months ago just wandering about my yard with my camera in hand, trying to see things as suggested I should see them. Often it is like I am out just trying to forcefully strike anything I can to find what sparks and what doesn’t. I am often intrigued by tree bark patterns, but quite often, the resulting photograph is simply just tree bark to me. This photo remained as such, with no spark.
I just happened to watch a couple of programs on the fresh Iceland volcano eruptions from earlier this year. The footage certainly makes you want to hop on a plane that moment to see such a spectacle. I filed it away in my head as a great program and didn’t think much about it after. In reviewing some of my photographs from this year on what to develop next, I came across this tree bark photo. And for some reason, which I didn’t see before, lava immediately came to mind.
So the 60 Minutes program on the Iceland volcanoes did indeed inspire where I headed with this image. The big question is – would I ever have seen lava in this image had I not watched that 60 Minutes segment? And here’s another one for you – given I just suggested lava from the title of this post and what I have written about it, how much has it influenced your own ability to see something else other than tree bark or lava?
I don’t know if this was the primary reasoning behind Weston naming his pieces rather generically like Pepper # 30. Given his frustrations around the framing of the series, I can imagine he wanted to keep it as open to interpretation as possible. I don’t have any aspirations of making anything else of this other than this single photograph. But it did plant a lot of questions about the inception, sparking such interpretations, and the ultimate limitations of being undefined.
I don’t know if I will ever go to Iceland to witness an active volcano eruption. For now, I am content with lava in my yard.
Lovely photo! Sort of reminds me of your rock series. The quote from Minor White also comes to mind. ‘ photograph what else it is’ and you’ve done a great job of that with this shot!
I do remember the Minor quote. I don’t know if Monet was the origin of him saying that. I’ve seen so many artists state things about the same concept just in different ways.
The title caught my eye and the warm tones and rugged texture of the photo certainly made it plausible that it might be lava. But I take the Monet quote a little differently. I understand it to mean it might help to set ALL naming aside in order to see with fresh eyes. Finding animals or whatever else in clouds seems to miss the point for me; why not just appreciate the clouds as they are, without naming them clouds or anything else? The forms, the colors, the fluffiness or streakiness – those can all be enough without any names, ideas or notions pasted on them. It’s not an easy thing to do but I think it’s worth trying. And I think the connection your mind made after watching the program is in that ballpark. In that moment when you’re not naming something but are simply regarding it, your mind is free to see something else in the bark photo. But ultimately neither “bark” nor “lava” are all that important to think about when viewing the photo, unless it’s a botany test. It would be better (IMHO) at least initially, to appreciate what the image offers without putting a name to it.
Quite the insightful comment Lynn. Thank you – you have given me more perspective in considering what he meant. And you are absolutely right, even labeling it “lava” adds an imposed restriction in consideration of what is there. Point very well made and taken. 🙂
Thanks for not taking offence at my opinionated comment. 😉 Our habits of mind are so deeply ingrained that sometimes it can be really hard to see other perspectives. And who knows for sure what Monet was thinking, but that was my take. I hope you’re enjoying this last day of spring- first day of summer!
Not at all, I did somewhat realize I was heading down a ironic path of labeling when I gave it a label. 🙂 But hey, I had to call the post something, and to be snarky about it – made ya click! 😉
This is a beautiful bark image, and I enjoyed your text. I am partial to tree bark, because my doctorate thesis was about a fly that is found in tree wounds from which sap flows. As part of that work, i have photographed countless tree barks. They do yield interesting abstract patterns, whether you see something in them or not.
That’s really interesting. We have some conifers in our yard with sap drips and little holes in them. I know it is some insect burrowing in there but don’t know what kind. I often worry if they will be destructive to the tree.
The burrowing insects could be bark beetles and yes they can damage the tree. The insects I studied were flies that breed and develop their larvae on the sap flux that exudes from tree wounds, and they do not harm the tree.
Spark is a great word to use, Mark. I believe the spark is there at the moment the shutter is pressed or we open Lightroom two years later. I remember when using my imagination with clouds seemed childish, irregardless where that voice originated. Now that I’m in those retirement years I find it enjoyable to be childlike but not childish. I enjoy watching clouds continually reshaping themselves but I do not necessarily see dinosaurs. However, I’m gonna start looking for them. Maybe even share them on my blog. Look, now you’ve started a spark! ? I think it’s cool you have lava in your backyard. Bet I’d find some here if I looked.
I’d like to think the spark is always there, but lately I am not so sure. I have so many images in LR that just sit.
And good to hear on those clouds – I’ll keep an eye out, no pressure! lol!
Well expressed, Mark. I’ve found that all those horses, elephants and giraffes that once populated a cloudy sky and left when I went to work, raised a family, and created a future have now returned upon retirement. 🙂
One can only hope such things can return, takes some effort at times, not always successful either.
I can see the lava, Mark. But I doubt we’d be so calm if it were real. 😉
Immediately, my thoughts upon reading the title went to the city of Goma, in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), where thousands had to flee when there was actually lava in their yards from the recent eruption of the Mount Nyiragongo volcano. Much too close of a view!
As children, we develop our imaginations, but then as adults, we tend to put our imagination on the back burner as we take jobs, create lives to make a living, and get about the business of having a family. It’s a shame because “can you imagine” has been the beginning of many great accomplishments.
An important point Earl, lava is not always welcomed! I missed what is happening in Goma – will read up on that. In Iceland it was covered as much more of a tourist attraction as well as excitement from volcanologists because it was so close and accessible.
Similarly, if you’ll forgive the analogy, maybe as adults that lava had hardened so much, it takes some extreme pressure and heat to get it flowing again.