Vespa Scooter at Launch
Just down the road from my home, I sometimes stop at the Boalsburg Military Museum to make a photograph of the scooter. I’m not sure why but suspect it’s often a time where I contemplate where I might be going that day. A kind of riding ritual connected that lets me consider options that factor in time, weather and how I’m feeling.
On this morning last weekend I was thinking about the fog I could see in the distance and the appointment I had with my friend Paul Ruby at Saint’s Cafe in State College, Pennsylvania. Conflicting assignments. The desire to ride through fog is always strong, but so are the get together’s at Saint’s to look at and talk about photography. Some quick calculations suggested I may be able to touch both.
Vespa in Fog
There are about a dozen different routes I can take that will lead me to town and Saint’s Cafe. Each has it’s own unique character and will stretch travel times from 15 minutes to almost an hour. With 30 minutes available I had time to approach Tussey Mountain and taste a bit of fog.
Seeing our little rural roads swallowed into the mist still mesmerizes me. For a moment I find myself transported — I’m no longer in an ordinary world and can believe magic is possible. Childish perhaps, but an experience I won’t easily give up. When I get to the end of my life, I think I’ll dream of one more ride in the fog.
Saint’s Cafe, State College, Pennsylvania
Like coming home. For me, a warm and friendly place where for those few moments I can float and watch the world. Funny how a place can engender those feelings. How many of you have places like that?
In a college town, cafes can easily be overrun by students and Saint’s is no different. But early in the morning, especially on a weekend, the adults sneak in.
I think I qualify as an adult now even though I ride a Vespa.
Guilty Pleasure
Tea, bagel and the sugar donut. I watch my intake of fat since my heart attack. My diet has changed drastically — especially as it relates to fast food. But I take some guilty pleasure in an occasional donut with my tea. It may not pass muster with serious tea aficionados, but it works for me. The biggest challenge I face is keeping my hands clean so I don’t mark the prints Paul brings for review.
Looking at Photographs
Our photo meetings are part of the 3 Prints Project that my friend Gordon and I started years ago as a way to continue stimulating photographic projects. As many artists know — it’s easy to get lazy and stop working. Paul is still working. I’ve gotten lazy and haven’t made a print in months. Making images isn’t the problem. Printing them is. Since I upgraded my computer I’ve not reinstalled the printer drivers for my Epson P800 photo printer.
It’s on my to do list. It’s been on the list for months. Resistance is high.
Paul is a machine. He continually shoots and prints. I think he hopes to shame me into making a print. So far that plan hasn’t worked.
Being the Watcher
I’ve been making more observational images of people and the world lately. In part a forced activity to help break the creative logjam, in part a result of using the Fuji X-Pro1 camera which is a similar experience to working with my old Leica M6 film camera.
The camera is quiet and unassuming and makes it easy to capture little moments I encounter. For any of you entering a cafe these days you’ve probably noticed the heavy reliance on electronic devices. The 21st century opium den.
I try to break free with my Moleskin journal and ink pen but the lure of the iPhone is strong. I know these devices have changed the way my mind works. Riding helps break the chains.
If only for a short time.
You are to be commended for “watch(ing) my intake of fat.” You look much healthier and lighter, slender I dare say, than 2 years ago. Ha! Yes, don’t smear Paul’s prints!
I’m definitely slimmer than two years ago. Almost 38 pounds lighter. And I’ve managed to stabilize at that level. It’s probably why my Vespa seems faster.
Interesting about Paul making prints. I’ve been feeling the urge to do more of this lately but always pause because I know after a while the image will have “worn off” and I won’t much care for it. I keep waiting for “an image worth printing” but it never comes because I’m never satisfied. Would be interested in Paul’s comments on this as he obviously has long since got past this mindset.
I suppose there are a lot of ways to rationalize printing or not printing. Same can be applied to shooting in the first place. Or creating exhibitions, books or websites. For me there’s a drive to say something. Perhaps not verbal, but creating images is a starting place. If they never move beyond my negatives or hard drive, well, it’s like I’m talking to myself. So creating a print, or something is just a way to move toward completing the process. With prints, you still need to show them to someone.
I’ve made thousands of prints. Add my years as a commercial black & white printer and that number soars into the tens of thousands. The challenge for me now is motivation more than anything. And like you say, I may be waiting for an image worth printing. Experience tells me it’s insane to wait for that. Or for inspiration. The revelations always appear during the work. Things I don’t think are worth printing spring to life when I do.
Paul is driven to make photographs. That’s apparent by his long history of doing it. Why he does it? I wonder pretend to be able to answer. Perhaps he’ll share some insight.
The image of my shadow on the street reminds me of one you have on your blog titled “Self portrait.” Yours seems strong and direct. Mine is more furtive.
I need to find a “Paul” and a cafe too. How do you guys deal with the competitive streak that resides in all photographers? Do you have an agreement about that? Do you comment on each others images or just allow the maker to talk about them? How does the conversation typically go? Sorry if this seems nosey…genuinely interested in doing something similar but trying to anticipate what “rules” might need to apply.
I’ve never felt any competition with Paul, or with any other photographers. It might have something to do with the fact that I’m not competitive myself. And when you’re in a staff photography position you’re often immune to the kinds of pressures that other independent photographers face. I could be oblivious to the competition though. I’m oblivious to a lot of human interactions…
With Paul, and with Gordon when he was still here, we look at prints and images and give our opinions — what’s working, what’s not, what we see and feel. It’s not unlike critiques when I was in the MFA workshop in the School of Visual Arts at Penn State.
A culture of criticism isn’t for everyone. There are a lot of artists and photographers who only want to hear positive things. Who believe if you don’t have something good to say you shouldn’t say anything. That may work in a lot of situations between people, but if you genuinely want to improve or expand your work, it really helps to have people who you trust to be honest. Doesn’t mean they’re right, but you want input. Not sure how you would make rules out of it other than you don’t want to belittle anyone or make personal criticism.
It’s not about who’s the best photographer. It’s about the work.
What you should do is e-mail your jpegs to Paul, let him decide what’s print worthy and get him to do it. You just buy the breakfasts from now on in exchange for his services. Easy, huh?
Hah. Paul hasn’t suggested that but I have another friend who has offered something along those lines.
GP: You nailed it. I have to feel some kind of excitement about a photo in order to muster the energy to spend two hours printing it. So that’s that comes first. The editing process. I shoot 100 photos but only 2-5 get printed. I have to feel that there is something special about the photo. Steve and I have spent many 100’s of hours discussing the artistic process. For me the artistic process ends with an exhibition print. I get a strong feeling of satisfaction when I get the print right. Like in the photo of me and the print above. I said to Steve, “This one is done”. I average 2-4 hours of work to make one print. I like the creative and technical processes. Like you said, I don’t bother making a print if I don’t feel there is anything special in the photo.
Timely post this. My partner in life, Shirley, and I very recently rode through State College and spent an evening. This has become a ritual once or twice a year and although I(we) stay out on N Atherton at the Stevens we wander downtown for a stroll through the Campus and an espresso at Saints. Might not know of Saints had I not stumbled across your illuminating blog Steve. I too have an image making vocational past and wonder about all the photos I take and what to do with them. Another interesting and thought provoking post. Thankyou.
Did you have breakfast at the Waffle Shop since the Stevens is right next door? Another local institution.
Let me know next time you and Shirley will be in town and I’ll buy your espresso.
As far as photos go — I’m neither famous or important enough to have any museum or collector take them when I’m gone. Like so many other bodies of work, I fear they’ll find their way eventually to a landfill. Those images living on the web may ultimately be longer lived…
Yes on the Waffle Shop. Don’t remember exactly how I stumbled across the Stevens, I suppose it was the old school Mom and Pop architecture. Stayed across the street once but the Stevens is a go too and those folks recommended the place right next door for breakfast. We even appreciate the distance to Saints as the walk lessens our guilt over the extravagant but oh so excellent breakfast. We will certainly give you a shout when we happen through State College?
Walking through the campus and then sitting at Saint’s Cafe , with my sweetie, Steve, I found myself imagining . The campus was filled with the energy and hopes of my own university time in the late 60’s , of youth. Strolling through now I felt the distance in my age and the students….not a negative comparison, just an awareness??
You were a student a few years before I arrived in 1972. Much has changed. College and Beaver were still two-way streets back then. and there were no high rise buildings yet. And no Saint’s Cafe. The Corner Room, College Diner, Campus Restaurant, Tavern and another diner I can’t remember at the other end of town. But no coffee shops yet.
I love the energy of a college town and the young people who go with it. Having worked on campus so long I’m used to the age difference. I know it’s startling for some though. But most alumni I’ve spoken to who come to visit get pretty wistful about their time here.
Perhaps you, Steve and I will cross paths at some point in the future.