How to Properly Judge Others, and My Visit to the Filter Photo Festival

In the last reading, Barrett approaches a rather amorphous topic - the formal points of how to judge art (in this case, photography). Reading it reminded me in many ways of logic proofs from back in Quantitative Literacy. It doesn't seem like there should be a "right" answer, but there is a rhyme and reason to properly evaluating works of art. When you dissect the process, even the most harshly opinionated art critic follows a certain formula.
Early on Barrett establishes the idea that judgment is different from a criticism, in that judging is the act of evaluating a work based on various criteria to determine it's worth. Since the value of art is always subjective to the eye of the viewer, the attempt to establish a kind of "fairness factor" to all pieces of art. These are fairly neutral questions that one can apply to any piece of art, such as questioning it's cultural relevance, difficulty level, and of course visual appeal. These are the sorts of things a good critic will always abide by for every piece they evaluate.
The variable that changes most dramatically from critic to critic is their own personal interpretation of a piece of art. Though in theory this should only be part of the equation, it factors largely into how the critic will judge a particular work. In actuality it is not the critics job to speak definitively on the interpretation of the meaning of a work of art, since every person could see something different in it. Judgment is grounds on which someone can argue the value of art. For example, the value of Duchamp's "Fountain" can be judged to be greater than that of crude drawings scribbled in a bathroom stall. While in theory neither one is particularly superior, it is the cultural context of "Fountain" that sets it in the realm of fine art. However it is here that we reach the gap between perceived value and individual opinion. Who is to say that the intent of the bathroom graffiti is really all that different from Duchamp's proposal of a urinal as art? Both are equally profane in their own right, so it comes down to personal interpretation. One could argue that since Duchamp was the first one to put his work on public display that he clearly showed a more formal understanding of artistic perception. But one could also theorize that the bathroom artist was taking Duchamp's principle and bringing it into a 21st century context? This is all hypothetical of course, so there is no real right answer to this scenario, however it does express the conflict between judging and attempting to interpret a piece of art. In short, the only one who knows the true meaning of artwork is the artist who created it (and sometimes not even then).

On a similar thread, I'd like to play the critic and judge the Filter Photo Festival which we attended as a class last week. I will state upfront that I did enjoy getting the opportunity to go and get an inside look at the photo festival, and the speakers clearly had a lot of experience and insider info to share at the lecture. However I feel that the lecture we attended fell more into the realm of semi-professionals. While there was talk about getting grants for your work, and best ways to compile it, but I felt that despite our student group making up a fair percentage of the audience, most of the information the speakers had prepared to give us wasn't even applicable to people our age, much less those of us in our current financial standing. This part of the Filter Festival I did not particularly resound with, for obvious reasons. Nevertheless, it is always valuable to hear an insider's take on the process, since those are the people we will be working with in our future jobs (with any luck). Sarah Hadley, who organized the event, was a very open and enthusiastic individual who clearly cared about photographers of all age brackets, but I feel like this emerging event has yet to catch on with young photographers. The booths were aimed at high-end art dealers, and even the location was not very well placed if they in fact intended for young artists to attend. Had it not been for this class, I wouldn't have known the Photo Festival was even going on so close to school. Being a photographer in the city of Chicago, you'd think I would be made more aware of something like this beyond the walls of a classroom. But their general lack of advertising at local art schools leads me to believe they haven't quite worked out a line up aimed specifically at the younger generation. I feel that the makings of a good photo event are latent in Filter, but since it is so new I think it's still kind of growing into itself. With luck, they will learn to branch out and reach other groups of individuals.

Blessing In Disguise

The unassuming concrete exterior of the Hedrich Blessing building pays homage to the work that goes on within it's walls. Dedicated exclusively to modern and contemporary architectural photography, Hedrich Blessing houses a wealth of photographic examples as well as functioning as a studio and gallery. Our tour guide (whom I will refer to by his old nickname, "Cuddles") did a terrific job making the world of architectural photography exciting. To an outsider, the topic can often seem dry and unappealing, but the individual accounts and stories of the ups and downs of the trade made it seem much more interesting. I can say that it helped considerably to have seen "Visual Acoustics" before attending, because it helped give me a reference point on a subject I am admittedly not that familiar with.
I enjoyed hearing about how the gallery/studio/archive made it's transition from being devoted to film to becoming almost entirely digital. I had no idea that they were 100% dedicated to large film photography until only a few years ago, but I can understand why they were willing to wait. It seems that architectural photography is an extremely disciplined and detail-oriented field. On numerous occasions I noticed how Cuddles would refer to the interplay of architecture and photography as the only "essential" art, as well as pointing out how being an accomplished architectural photographer is an extremely prestegious and difficult to attain position.
I also enjoyed the talk we were given in Cuddles' "Bunker", where he told the story of Frank Lloyd Wright and the public's love/hate relationship with his work. I never knew how fickle Wright could be about certain things, and how his large ego would often wear on the nerves of those who worked with him. However through and through Cuddles had a warm and entertaining personality which is what set this visit apart from the rest in my mind.

Vite, Labor, Studum, Charitas, Mors...

These were the words adorning the large mural at the entrance to the International Museum of Surgical Science. The Latin words roughly translating to "Life, Work, Study, Charity, and Death" gave the visitor a pretty clear emphasis on what they could expect to learn about in a surgical museum. Having never been to such a museum myself, it was definitely an interesting experience and a distinct departure from the "universal survey" museums we have encountered in the past. Aside from it's single-pointedness on a specific topic, the IMSS differed in that it's layout was far less rigorously planned than those, for example, at the Art Institute. Not to say there was no rhyme or reason to the layout of the exhibits, but there was a certain element of it being less like a formal museum and more like an eccentric collectors manor.
Despite being an informative visit, I would not go so far as to say the emphasis was particularly artistic or photographically slated. There was some consideration given to the fact that x-ray photography was utilized in novel and semi-artistic realms before it was absorbed into the medical field. However I do wish there was at least a little reference to modern artists/photographers/scientists who have used radiology in unique and surprising ways (though that opinion is coming from a photography student, so my interests are naturally slated towards that aspect). The IMSS is definitely a scholars museum, dedicated to physicians and those interested in medicine; perhaps even the occasional tourist. None the less, it was an interesting experience.

Changing gears entirely, I found the documentary on architectural photographer Julius Schulman pleasantly entertaining. In all honesty, I wasn't sure how to feel about such a dry subject matter, but once I started getting into the story of Schulman reflecting on his life's work, I was able to in some ways empathize with him. I kept thinking of how easy it would be to equate Schulman with a grandfather or great uncle - it's easy to like the opinionated old man. But what was even easier to like was his artwork. I could definitely see why there were so many people invested studying the man's life and his work, and why he had so many admirers. He did for modernist photography what Frank Lloyd Wright did for modernist architecture (and it's no coincidence they were both colleagues). Modernism itself was very much a product of the early 20th century philosophy that "form follows function" along with a small but growing sect of individuals who rejected the industrial age and wanted to preserve natural simplicity in a way which did not disturb the environment. Schulman's photography essentially performed the same function not only in what he photographed, but how he photographed it. Modernism is probably most recognizable for it's strict linear geometry and almost zen-like placement of furniture and room layout. Schulman used those concepts as themes in his work which he would further emphasize by wide angles and the perspective control of his view camera. By using his architectural eye and the abilities of the camera, Schulman was able to see the buildings as idealized versions of what they really were. As one scholar said, Schulman's photographs of the buildings was often more grand than the buildings themselves. In many ways I feel that Schulman did not originally set out to be an artist, or even an architectural photographer in specific. He simply wanted to treasure and preserve the things which he held most dear, and one of those things happened to be the modernist sensibility. By just being involved with that world, he was assimilated into it and became a staple in the architectural community, for whom he did most of his work. Occasionally a collector or art critic would praise his work, but by and large his work was kept confined to architectural periodicals and private collections. That is, until his work hit the mainstream and took everyone by surprise. What started out as a hobby ended up causing a major shift in the public's perception of photography. Instead of seeing the usual fine art or street photography which was popular in the day, Schulman's photographs effectively established architecture as a well respected sub-genre of photography. And it is that which I believe was Julius Schulman's greatest accompishment.