Archive for October, 2009

Odin Stone: Plates 32 – 35

Tillman Crane - Caravan, Deerness, Orkney, 2006

Odin Stone Plate 32: Caravan, Deerness, Orkney, 2006

Plate 32: Caravan, Deerness, Orkney, 2006

In the spring of 2006 I went to Scotland with my friend, Peter Goss. He was available to travel during his spring break from the University of Utah and I wanted to photograph Scotland in a season I hadn’t yet experienced so we took a chance on going during March. When we arrived in Orkney the snow was melting from the largest snowfall in many years and there were still traces in ditches and shaded areas around the islands. As is true in the US, the March weather in Scotland changes rapidly from warming sun to stormy, gale force winds. We worked every moment we were able in my favorite locations and when the weather kept us from photographing we drove around and explored the more of the countryside. On a very cold and blustery day we drove to Deerness and ended up at this beach. The wind was, as they say in Scotland, “blowin’ a howlie” so we didn’t take out our camera equipment. However, just past the parking area, I saw this holiday caravan sitting isolated, tied down and waiting out the storm. We returned to the car where I retrieved my “Hobo” 5×12 camera and tripod. The wind was blowing so hard that Peter had to hold down the tripod while I (tried to) steady the camera and put the film holder in it. I made two exposures and while we waited while our faces were sand blasted by the airborne sand. I think of this image as a visible example of the Orcadian spirit of determination – and optimism for the beautiful spring weather to soon arrive.

Tillman Crane - Odin Stone Plate 33: Bailey’s Stone, Ring of Brodgar, Orkney, 2005

Odin Stone Plate 33: Bailey’s Stone, Ring of Brodgar, Orkney, 2005

Plate 33: Bailey’s Stone, Ring of Brodgar, Orkney, 2005

The Ring of Brodgar is over one hundred yards in diameter. The stones average about six feet in height. Originally it is estimated that there were approximately 64 stones in the circle. Today, half remain. I have photographed these stones many times, making individual “portraits” of each stone as well as trying to figure out the alignment and relationships between them. This image gives some sense of scale to the ring and its stones. For me it is an infinitely variable puzzle. From this vantage point I am looking North-northeast, across the Loch of Harray towards the hills surrounding Finstown. To my knowledge none of the stones are specifically named. My brother Bailey, on an earlier trip had brought a small stone from his yard in Hazel Green, Alabama, to Scotland and he left this touchstone in the split of the stone closest to the camera. Two years later, when I made this photograph, it was still there. I hope someday Bailey will be able to return with me to the Ring of Brodgar and revisit these touchstones left behind.

Tillman Crane - Odin Stone Plate 34: Croft Interior, Rackwick Bay, Hoy, Orkney, 2005

Odin Stone Plate 34: Croft Interior, Rackwick Bay, Hoy, Orkney, 2005

Plate 34: Croft Interior, Rackwick Bay, Hoy, Orkney, 2005

On the island of Hoy sits the crofting village of Ratwick, in a valley surrounded by foothills that are six hundred feet high. It has a crescent beach filled with round stones of all sizes and it is one of the most famous beaches in Orkney. The village is nestled in a valley carved by geological time with its beach facing into the North Atlantic. I went to Hoy on a beautiful day hoping to photograph the round stones on the beach. As I crossed the island and came down into this valley I could see a storm blowing in off the Atlantic. I drove down into the valley anyway to take my chances. I parked my car in the visitors lot and carried my camera gear down the beach as the wind and surf were picking up. On the beach sits a croft that serves as a shelter to any who wish to stay there.  There is no charge, only the admonition to keep the place clean for the next visitor. I decided to wait out the storm in the croft and photographed inside while I did so. The storm raged on and after six hours it was time to make a decision – either stay the night or catch my ferry back to Mainland Orkney. I opted for the latter and a hot dinner. However, though

Mother Nature thwarted my photographic intention perhaps I got the better photograph in the croft than on the beach.

Tillman Crane - Odin Stone Plate 35: Waiting Room, Egilsay, Orkney, 2007

Odin Stone Plate 35: Waiting Room, Egilsay, Orkney, 2007

Plate 35: Waiting Room, Egilsay, Orkney, 2007

Egilsay is a small island north of mainland Orkney that supports a farming community and is home to the ruins of one of St. Magnus’ churches. Attached to this roofless ruin is a round tower, much like the Irish round towers. The purpose of this trip was to photograph the church and tower, which I did. After completing this self-imposed assignment I returned to the ferry terminal to await the return ferry home. While sitting I noticed this community bulletin board. This board is a clear example of how island communities keep its members posted of news. Everyone has to take the ferry to get off island and what better place to post a notice than in the ferry waiting room. Some of the notices are official and some unofficial, but all are important to the life on the island community.

October/November 2009: The little things

The little things? The little moments? They aren’t little.
Jon Kabat-Zinn

I’ve been thinking on this quote for a few weeks now and as with most things wise, these words serve to teach us on numerous layers. On the surface the words call us to pay attention, to our relationships, to our work, to our daily lives. What exactly does this mean and how do we do it? The answers are as infinite as the differences in how we each relate to the world. Relating these words specifically to my work as an artist has me thinking differently about the attention I pay (or don’t pay) to the every day details in my work that make it possible for me to create a final photograph. For my experience is, when I’m not paying attention to the details, the details keep me from doing the very thing I desire – to make photographs that speak for me.

When we are first learning a skill set our attention is fully focused on the activity and other thoughts are kept away. However, our human tendency is to settle into learned patterns for all the repetitive, day-to-day actions required of us – whether in work, play or relationships. Washing dishes, mowing the lawn, processing film, all things we’ve done a thousand times and see no reason to think more deeply about. With time we get into the habit of not thinking about what we are doing, our mind millions of thoughts away from our body. And that’s when it happens – a knife picked up by the wrong end, bending the blade with a rock, or filling my trays with water rather than developer and ruining eight sheets of 8×10 film. These situations represent layers of inattention.

Every photograph is the result of a series of decisions by the artist, from the inspiration for the image through the perspiration allowing it to spring forth. Inspiration often gets the top billing, but the perspiration part is essential. The latter is the mastery of the craft, where you become so fluent with your materials that the inspiration can flow through the perspiration. The craft, however, involves details requiring your attention. Many of these details can actually be stumbling blocks because they were learned or mastered in one particular situation or location and we believe them to be “the way” to do things. If you adhere rigidly to there being only this one way then you may miss opportunities to simplify, modify and personalize your working methods.

With some areas in the process you have the flexibility to choose to do things the way you want to. For example, I work with large format cameras and make platinum prints because after years of working with smaller formats and silver printing I found that this is where my passions lie. However in making this choice, there are a myriad of details that need attending to in order for me to be successful at working with this way. Some are sacrosanct and others habit or tradition but the little ways of thinking about or working in my craft are important. Changing small things, rethinking methodology, even changing a working space can make a huge difference in the flow of work. Here are a couple of examples from my own experience that have made such a difference in how I work.

For years I kept an 8×10 enlarger in my darkroom, of one sort or another. Even after I returned to Maine from Utah and set up my “ultimate” darkroom, I included an 8×10 enlarger. Although I dedicated myself to just making platinum prints I still seemed to feel a need for the 8×10 enlarger. Finally, a couple of years ago I said “enough” and took the enlarger out of the darkroom and put it in my storage unit. As a result, I was able to put an extra counter top with shelves underneath where the enlarger once stood. It made a big improvement in my working space. It got rid of a not only huge physical impediment but cleared out physic space as well. I have let go of the expectation that I have to be prepared for making large silver prints. In doing so, I was able to let go of equipment I no longer needed and create more space for the way I am now working.

A short while later it dawned on me that I didn’t need the floor-to-ceiling drying racks I had built when I thought I was going to be making large silver prints. I (finally) noticed that I never had more that 1/3 of the racks filled with drying platinum prints. I cut the drying racks down to counter height, put a top on the supports and created even more workspace. Now rather than walking into a darkroom with a huge enlarger towering over one end and drying racks towering over the other end, I have an open and free flowing workspace. That makes sense for what I want to do and the way I want to work. I have always loved working in my darkroom. But by paying attention to the little things about how my space was or was not working I was able to let go of some ideas that were no longer important to the way I want to work and make my space more efficient and comfortable.

It is these small things that can get in our way and either stop us from making the work or by making the process less enjoyable. They can be physical things, like my darkroom equipment that no longer served it purpose, camera equipment you never use, or even an idea or project that you no longer want to pursue. Look more closely at the little things that make up the flow of your work and see if there are impediments that are getting in your way. Pay attention to the details and see if there isn’t an easier or more satisfying way to work, Inspiration is necessary for success, but being ready for inspiration by honing your skills and being clear about how you work is every bit as important.

Look at what you are doing and see if you can find the little things that make doing your work harder than it needs to be. Change them and clear out your physical space as well as your physic space. Remember that this is your work and you should derive pleasure from both the act of creating it and from the work itself.

It is the little things that are important.

All the best,
Tillman

I am combining the October and November postings to make ready for the release of A Walk Along The Jordan. News of this and other titles, as well as prints and the 2010 Workshop schedule should be on the website (www.tillmancrane.com) by early November.