Thousand and One Words

Two words: worn out. Can you relate? I know I can. Between work, Twitter, Facebook, film projects, music vid cameos, Kelly, and this blog, I'm spent by the end of the day. Sometimes I forget that I'm just a real person, not a Disney tween star. I feel a lot like this frayed tire -- weak and overused. The photographer here has made a bold choice by placing the center of interest in the middle of the picture. Normally I'd laugh at such an amateurish move, but somehow it works. It slaps us on the mouth with its meaning, without being too much. Like a human body, a tire is complex and made up of different layers molded together to give it strength. However after time, they come apart due to pressure. Tires aren't magic, and neither are we. The only exceptions I can think of are Regis Philbin and Jennifer Aniston. But for the rest of us the message is clear: decelerate, and take a minute to cool down before we run too thin in today's age of ubiquitous non stop activity.

I want you all to drop the garland, take the almond bark out of your mouth, walk out of Big Lots and start thinking what the true meaning of Christmas is. It's not supposed to be a holiday spent in the mall, or screaming at your dad for burning the Crescent Rolls. That stuff sucks. This photo points to what each and every one of us needs to be doing this holiday: breaking. If you'd stop at the figurative red light and take a minute to breathe in the piney goodness, you might actually feel the magic of the season, rather than just driving through it like a maniac on Four Loco. Close your eyes and picture that Happy Honda Days commercial with the epic Vampire Weekend song and the yuppies flying around on sleds. Does your heart feel that way right now? Are visions of sugarplums dancing in your head? If not, you've gotta put your blinker on, pull over and defrost your heart. Forget about making lists and checking them twice, and go chill with your crew. Don't worry about giving them the Xbox Slim or Rockband 3; give them your love. Feliz Navidad to you all.

The traveling carnival - part of American summertime culture since who knows when. The word "carnival" induces images of funnel cake, ferris wheels, and holding hands with your honey. However this photographer has captured a message we should all consider: summer danger. It lurks where we don't necessarily expect it. Sure, at first glance we notice the flamboyant colors and tall tempting rides. But our eyes immediately rise to the sinister clouds settling in above, pointing to the horror that lies within - 1,000 calorie curly fries, unregulated Tilt-A-Whirls, rigged games, chipping paint, bearded women. It's a lurid world that will suck you in and spit you out with heartburn, a broken arm, and heat exhaustion. All I can say is, enter at your own risk kids.

We are in the midst of summer, yet the relaxing days of sipping iced refreshments on a sunny porch as promised by lemonade commercials are a long way off. Why? Because we are blocked. Blocked from private beaches for being too poor, blocked from wearing a bathing suit out in public due to your obesity, or blocked from strolling along the beach for bringing your dog when they aren't allowed (such a fascist rule). This photo illustrates these blocks by displaying only a small view of a sunny paradise, with a wall blocking you from basking in the beach's sun. You can see the beach, hear the beach, but you are blocked from the beach. I especially appreciate that the photographer deliberately kept the fence out of focus, because sometimes it's hard to see what's standing in our way. The summer sunshine is out there, but unfortunately so is the sunblock.

It is our country's birthday month, which usually conjures up images of broad stripes and gallant ramparts. Yet after a chaotic year of events including the financial crisis, the sickening BP oil spill, and the disgrace of Tiger Woods, America's red white and blue has been given a black eye. This photograph exemplifies the murky phase that the U.S. is currently undergoing. The flag is not valiantly undulating in the breeze; it's not even a real flag. It's some sort of trashy synthetic material, placed askance in the window in front of some severely outdated blinds. The apartment building itself is sad and ominous with no sign of July jubilation to be seen. There are even bars covering the windows, completely contradicting any notion of freedom. The upside to this newfound American modesty - we may finally be more liked by France.

Images of summer aren't limited to what you see in Corona ads (although I appreciate their use of color). We all experience summer, be us rich or poor, young or old, talented and untalented. I invite you to submit your photos capturing the spirit of summer and I'll critique them and tell you which side of the talent camp you fall in. Carpe diem!

Funny how the KEEP OUT warning only makes you want to open the door and go inside. Forbidden fruit always looks sweeter. The photographer, myself, obeys the rule of thirds by keeping the door off center. Shot from eye level, this photo makes you feel as though you're in the hall, right outside this door. If I told you that behind that door there's merely a young man's well-decorated bedroom, would you be less enticed to open it and see what's inside? No, you wouldn't. Neither is my mom, that's why I'm getting a deadbolt.

The white picket fence, a prominent suburban cliché. It's the symbol of a wholesome, happy American home. However, at a closer look we'll see that this fence is a façade, a lie. Along its pristine ridge we see a trashy beer can and lighter, suggesting substance abuse and sadness. Instead of being used to keep harmful things out, this fence is used to hide the harmful things inside. This white picket fence is actually a symbol of American denial. This white picket fence...is a white picket offense.

CONEY ISLAND LIBERTY

I appreciate this artist's statement. The statue of liberty's sign proudly declares LIBERTY, but is this man liberated? Sure, he has his freedom costume, but what else does this man have? It appears not much; he looks pretty poor. The use of color in this photo highlights how this man isn't free, but a prisoner of circumstance. It makes the point that the argument for freedom...is not so black and white.

DOG BEHIND THE RAILS

This dog trapped behind bars represents us, trapped in our cubicles, stuck in traffic, waiting in line at Urban Outfitters...Just as this dog pensively gazes out at the dog park across the way, we long for freedom away from all the chores of every day life. Unlike the man in the photo above, this dog is black and white, surrounded by a world of color that he is barred from. Just like him, we are not free; we are caged animals. Free from the wild, yet prisoners of the rat race...or dog race.

Here we see a pensive man alone in the wilderness through a photo that captures simplicity. But let me assure you, creating this image was no simple matter. Harnessing technology similar to that used by David LaChappelle, I superimposed the forestation seen in the background. My model was actually posing in a Dunkin' Donuts parking lot. It's a challenge for an artist to make something artificial seem so very real. A challenge I, as an artist, welcomed.

People die in the name of freedom; people kill in the name of freedom. Freedom is a source of inspiration for some of the greatest photographs at MoMA. Send me the photographs you've taken that capture "freedom" and I will review them. I challenge you to be as avant-garde as possible, because the greatest freedom...is artistic freedom.

The eye is drawn to the sign and its cry for help. "Do not block drive." It begs us to examine what is blocking our drive. It's easy to believe we are resigned to this black and white life, but look closely at the picture. Notice how the letters go outside the lines just like the writer is trying to break free of the locked door. Delve deeper to see the play between light and dark highlighting the symbolism of the text. The washed out effect from the letters is our light within trying to break through. I could have shot this head on, but I choose the angle to emphasize the padlock - the darkest part of the photo...the darkest part of life. The lock in the shadows is the darkest parts of our lives; addiction, abandonment, orphanages, greed, metaphorical blindness. That darkness is the secrets and secrets locked deep within each of us - the darkness chaining our drive.

What do YOU think this photo means? Or what did you THINK it meant before I told you?

These pictures, although divergent, tell a cohesive story of sorrowful dependence and abuse - one that is undoubtedly familiar to many Americans. The struggle begins before one can even walk. Mother passing the Heineken torch to son. He tries to push it away with his sinless little hands, but the mother unabashedly encourages him - "Don't worry, you'll get used to the taste. This will help you fit in amongst your friends, son." Brainwashed by the constant stream of alcohol advertisement, she knows no other way. We move forward to the teen years, and addiction has fully taken hold. Shot from above, we see hundreds of bottle caps cast in the shape of barf, symbolizing the countless beers consumed as a reckless young adult. They're thrown down the hatch with no regard, and sometimes they come back up. It's vile, it's hopeless, and it only gets worse. She wakes up twenty years later in a twin bed with a nasty hangover on a Tuesday afternoon. No job, no husband, and clearly no style. She's fastened to her addiction; stuck just like this picture is to filthy bubble gum in a forgotten alleyway. Although she is the focus, she is dependent and all alone, in a world that is filthy and unforgiving.

Protruding out from the coarse stucco, these three holes are a mystery. Where do they lead? What flows through them? The observer cannot know for sure, giving them license to draw up their own interpretations. Looking at them, the viewer can easily conjure up images spanning from pollution to sex to Ninja Turtles and beyond... The true mystery comes from your imagination.

Where do these pipes take your imagination?

Addiction. It's something that many great men, including myself, struggle with. Addiction is never easy to overcome, but can make for some very compelling art. I've overcome my addiction to substances in part with my addiction to making art. Now, I would like to critique your art. Please, send me your photographs that capture "addiction" and I will review them on my blog.

To submit, just use the form on the right hand side of the blog. You can even use Facebook Connect if you want.

As you all know over the past few months I've been zealously working through a personal rebirth, finding myself outside of my business identity. Yet it's photographs like this that send me staggering right back into that numb industrialized subsistence, and I spit on it.

The photo is cut off at the calf because these drones have no feet of their own to walk on. And just like their outfits, they can only see things in black and white. Their eyes are dead and cold, their hair is pulled back tighter than their stringent schedules, their granny stockings are as gruesome as their attitudes, and their ruffled shirts manage to ironically halt any hint of flirtatious femininity that we all hope to catch a glimmer of at the workplace. Sexiness and treasured individuality have been quelled to produce corporate clones. Usually I'm turned on by any situation involving two women, but this unsightly tragedy makes me want to lock myself up in my darkroom, alone and woebegone.

Here we see what seems to be a somewhat nice-looking girl, maybe a 7, rebelling against the standards put on women. By eating this greasy hotdog sandwich, she's feeding her insatiable hunger to rise up against male standards of beauty. She's willingly transforming from desirable to unattractive. It's ugly, yet compelling... It's tragic. It's beautiful (metaphorically).

I'm going to critique these two together, because of their similarities. I like these photos, but I don't love them. The transition component is a little obvious: from son to father, young to older. Good-looking people with their good-looking kids - I find these a little too precious and banal for my taste. I could easily see them on a Hallmark card... Maybe if the kids were black they would have more edge...

Everyone is so consumed with the Olympics, but this is athletics at its purest. Here we see a skier, caught at the apex of a jump, outlined by quiet nature. The photo suggests that this man is skiing for his own enjoyment, not for some cold corporate sponsored spectacle to boost consumerism. There are no credit card banners or soda billboards lining his slope. He is as good as he feels, not as good as the medal he's won. Why must we celebrate nationalism and commerce in pursuit of "the best"? Why can't networks have programs that feature images like this: a man just skiing to ski. I'd watch a show like that...if it didn't have commercials.

Thank you to everyone who submitted photographs. While I didn't get exactly what I was looking for, I was very pleased with some of what I viewed.

My office is in the middle of corporate transitional period. I've been transitioning myself, transforming from a wunderkind workaholic to a man who contemplates what "living" truly means. This personal renaissance has led me to reconsider my business identity at precisely the same time my company is recreating theirs. To honor those in the midst of transitions, please submit photographs of "Transformations" and I will happily critique them for you.

To submit, just use the form on the right hand side of the blog. You can even use Facebook Connect if you want.

I was humbled by this photograph. You've taken two images (the bulbous body of a shirtless man and the face of Hillary Clinton), individually each one antithetical to the general conception of "femininity," yet when combined, the sum of their parts is so much more: a strong, smart, woman, regardless of her age, is the very essence of "femininity." Bravo. As remarkable as this is, I think you'd have a masterpiece had you chosen to photograph a topless woman with the face of Bill Clinton.

Nothing suggests femininity like a gorgeous mother cradling her beautiful baby against her luscious breasts, but since this is a close up, we have no idea what her breast size is. It's both torturous and excruciating for the viewer and ultimately that's the point of the photograph! The only thing more feminine than being a mother is being a tease. That being said, if you were really serious about the theme, you should've captured the baby breast-feeding, as that is the more daring and intimate way to show a strong, powerful woman in her natural element, while simultaneously demonstrating the most ancient and intrinsic of all human connections.

It seems like anyone with an SLR camera seems to fancy themselves a "photographer," but there's a huge difference between "taking pictures" and "being an artistic chronicler." I could rant for hours about all the terrible photographs I've been subjected to--instead I'm going to do something about it. I plan to offer you unprecedented access to my brain, eyes, heart, and yes, even my soul. Every few weeks I'll pick a theme and you'll have the opportunity to submit your photos to my blog; a few lucky individuals will have theirs critiqued by me. The tips and insight I'm offering are sure to make anyone who pays careful attention to what I say (and what I don't say), fantastically better. And who knows, maybe you'll even teach me something in the process.

This week's theme is "Femininity." From my mother to that gorgeous senior who robbed me of my v-card to Marian Robinson, I've been fascinated by strong, smart, beautiful women. Here's your chance to honor the female form, to show that women have come far enough that they can be both powerful and sexy. Really explore what "femininity" means to you and don't be afraid to get provocative. True photographers take risks and bare everything, including the most intimate details of their essence.

To submit, just use the form on the right hand side of the blog. You can even use Facebook Connect if you want.

Non-existent smiles. Eyes begging for mercy. Confined to a cage. Prison bars cast a nasty shadow. Scars etched into their fur and souls. They suffer in silence. There's nothing cute about isolation. Depression. No hope, but the small solace of a forbidden love. Two male cats. Stigma. An indictment on our society.

Together, these two opposites, work side by side in peace. Shot from the side to emphasize their differences in stature (both physical and societal), we see that they are united by the tree, and, at the same time, separated by the tree. The tree is a metaphor for consumerism. The holiday allows them to escape their differences, but only for a short amount of time. Come December 26th, there will be no tree to bring them together, but the world will be there to pull them apart.

Comment on Abstraction

The fourth level is depicting the need for acceptance in all of us. The streams and strokes seem scattered and involuntary but when looked at more closely, we see that they are moving in a singular direction, stretching themselves and reaching for approval. The fifth level is the sexuality that is present in every aspect of life. the way the substance appears to be come from inside the picture and leaping out, reaching towards the viewer, says to the me "ravish me." and my answer Ryan, is yes. - Caroline

Yes, acceptance is a theme of this photo, as well as all my photos; even the photos I take that capture isolationism have a theme of acceptance, a lack of acceptance. It is the ultimate compliment that this photo not only captured my soul, but yours as well.
You seem to have an eye for photography that only a photographer could have. The best way to evaluate your work would be for you to send me a self-portrait, one that focuses on realism. - Ryan

I honestly don't remember taking this shot. I'm not even sure what this is: a puddle, sand, maybe an oil slick? It's possible my subconscious shot this or perhaps I accidentally took the picture without realizing it. Doesn't matter. In life, there are no accidents. This is proof. How could something "accidental" be so mysteriously striking. And layered. It's obviously working on at least three levels, but can you see the fourth and fifth? I dare you to try.

Comment on Sunrise? Sunset?

The sun is setting. Anyone with half a brain should be able to figure that out from the angle of the sun. Masterpiece.. I think not. Your photos suck Ryan! - Samael82

Samael82, my art is controversial by nature. The fact that you had such a strong response to it, that you think my "photos suck," and that you felt the need to comment on my blog, is a testament to just how powerful these photos really are. Love them or hate them, they're all about generating a strong response from viewers. Also, the sun is not setting. It's rising, like a phoenix from the ashes, majestic in its beauty, twirling, spinning, gyrating with the intensity and passion of a thousand Geisha girls, but since you couldn't see that obvious fact, perhaps you are the one with half a brain. Also, how many girls have cried this week because you didn't return their text? Thought so.

Shot from above, the angle produces a provocative look at Cat and Dog. Mortal enemies. And yet, these two co-exist peacefully. They even look like one another. Perhaps Indians and Pakistanis can learn a little something from this photograph. Great art is transcendent.

Is the sun rising or setting? Are the clouds advancing or receding? Black and white photographs aren't always so black and white. In this minor masterpiece (?) the viewer must internalize the image, process it, and create his or her own meaning. It's not enough to view this photograph...you have to experience it. Are you brave enough to gaze into the sun?

Comment on Where Do the Children Play?

I shudder@the silent screams in this stark img of helplessness/hopelessness. Wayworn shipping pallets, teetering, feeble efforts to resurrect themselves to be the beings they once had been--tall, glorious, arms branching to all corners of the heavens, providing winged wanderers a warm elbow to rest their nests, offering their very nuts to any squirrelly chipmunk with empty cheeks & extending a lofty limb to the playful child who's swiped a rope+tire from their neighbor. Weeping, willowed, wasted - samdtang

Comment on Upon Further Reflection

The key ingredient in every true artisan is, first & foremost: "art"...almost "artist"--but not quite. Using crude approximations to paint & pigment to lace his life's work with mock creativity, he resorts to B&W in a world of technicolor peacocks, abhorrent blur & glaring overexposure of both background & model to shock & confound. Unlike "Team," the selfish artist wannabe knows there is no "artisan" sans "I"--or "san" for that matter--a corporate bushman's void polaroid. - samdtang

Thank you, samdtang. Finally, someone who really gets my work.

Just like the shadows on the cave wall, we all create our reality with what we see. Here we see a reflection of trees in gentle waves of water. Searching through it, you notice it's distorted... or is it? Some may think this photo is out of focus... do you? If so why do you think the artisan would make this choice?

Comment on Where do the children play?

"You raise serious questions about the place of disposable wooden crates in our consumeristic society. The trees in the distance look on with anger and trepidation." - mantovah

Yes, Mantovah, but the trees do more. Perhaps they are a metaphor for the potential of society and the tipping wooden crates symbolize our current reality. - Ryan

Comment on Lost Innocence

"Your work moves me." - megscookie

Thank you megscookie. I enjoy the encouragement, but that's not why I do it.

Explicit? Indecent? Erotic? Or commentary about the way in which women are treated in the workplace? Here's a woman, hard at work, pulled herself up by the bootstraps despite her ethnic heritage, but all you see is that she's topless. It's sad, but the saddest part is that the woman was willing to pose for this photograph without a single question as to the artist's intent. What happened to integrity?

Sometimes the most interesting photographs don't answer a question--they pose one. And a truly great photo may raise several. This photograph uses converging vertical and horizontal lines and the power of the rule of thirds to force the viewer to engage in some serious self-reflection: "On which side of the bars do I stand?" "Am I the prisoner or the guard?" "Is there any way out?" "Is there any way in?"

It's not just about what you see in this photo. It's about what you don't see. Whose bike is that? Where did he go? What's he doing inside that building? Why would he be doing that at such a young age? By putting the fence in focus in the foreground and leaving the bike out of focus, the viewer can't help but feel the lost soul who owns this bike is abandoning his childhood in favor of an unseen illicit activity inside that dark door.

I intentionally over-exposed this photograph to create a sense of isolation. With the edges washed out, the pallets overwhelm your eyes. They invoke a feeling of claustrophobia. There's no place to go. And like the pallets, the viewer is at a literal tipping point. So what do they do? Stand by and allow themselves to be supported by the metaphorical barbed wire fence (aka: the industrial prison complex)? Or stand tall and try to right the ills of our "crooked" society. As much as anything, this photograph is a call to action.