Posts Tagged ‘art’
Thanks, Teddy
Thanks for the Everglades
Having been preoccupied with other projects, I haven’t posted any new blogs for awhile. But here is a new one, signaling resumption of my blog series.
The photographs below are from our visit to the Florida Everglades in February, 2014. With thanks to Teddy Roosevelt for having established America’s National Parks system, which preserves this and other wilderness treasures.
All photographs © William Carter 2014
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Egypt, Mother of of the World
I landed in Beirut in 1964 knowing nothing of the region. I was there to represent a New York photo agency — when such outfits had their people stationed around the world doing photojournalistic assignments.
One of the first people I met was the New York Times’ Middle East bureau chief, Dana Adams Schmidt. A seasoned writer, he was just leaving for Egypt, Yemen, South Arabia and Yemen: did I want to go with him? I jumped at the chance.
In Cairo I accompanied Dana on some of his political interviews. Nasser was in power trumpeting his anti-colonialist, pro-socialist, Arab-nationalist agenda. Since time immemorial the Egyptians, with their proud history, had considered themselves the cultural and political leaders of the Arab community.
The term for this outlook was — and is — Masr, Um al-Dunia: “Egypt, mother of the world.”
I had time to explore the teeming, wonderful streets. The following year I would return to the Nile Delta photographing for a UN agricultural development agency. The country’s problems were deep — seemingly intractable — yet the faces were joyous. I can only hope some of that spirit survives the latest crisis. Half a century seems less long inside a seedbed of civilization.
All photos © William Carter 1965
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Yemen: Then As Now? Part 2
Photographs by William Carter © 1964
House in Sanaa, the capital
Tribal representatives pleading with Egyptian “anti-colonial” troops
Heading north, where Egyptian-backed revolutionaries were fighting Saudi-backed royalists
View from a British helicopter
Outpost in South Yemen: note man in prayer on wall
Modern town of Taiz
Traditional town of Sanaa
Traders in the southern port of Aden
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Hands Are Us (Part 2)
Moment, 11/25 ©William Carter 1973
Closure, 1/25 Platinum Print, ©William Carter 1992
Suggestion, 1/35 Vintage Silver Print, ©William Carter 1994
Dance, 2/25 Vintage Silver Print, ©William Carter 2006
Shiva, 2/25 Vintage Silver Print, ©William Carter 1989
Actor, New York City, printed later, ©William Carter 1963
Near Ganeshpuri, Maharashtra, India, ©William Carter 1981
Wrestlers 1/35 Vintage Silver Print, ©William Carter
In Touch: Dominique and Sramana
Sramana
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Hands Are Us (Part 1)
Touching the Heart
Ruth and Olivia, 2012, Archival Inkjet Print, ©William Carter 2012
On September 11, 2012, I visited my beloved 97-year old Aunt Ruth. Her body systems were shutting down. Two of her children, Maureen and Susan, and one granddaughter, Olivia, were there. I took a few pictures, including the one above. Two nights later, Aunt Ruth passed away.
In the 1980s and ’90s I spend fifteen years photographing nudes and the body. For much of that I carefully avoided hands: they felt personal and unique, whereas the project was about universal forms. Eventually, though, hands started creeping in. I’m not sure if that was my decision or theirs. Several appeared in my 1996 book, Illuminations.
“Hands” is a project without a beginning or an end. Some were used with Indian poetry quotations and readings by Sramana Mitra. I used a shot of my own palm as the endsheets for my 2011 book, Causes and Spirits.
Here are some others:
Sramana’s Hands, vintage silver print, ©William Carter 2002
Appearance, 9/25 ©William Carter 1983
Char, 3/25 vintage silver print, ©William Carter 1992
Remember, 3/25 vintage silver print, ©William Carter 1990
Mystery (detail), Vintage Silver Print, ©William Carter 1990
Whisper, Vintage Silver Print, ©William Carter 1992
Intimation, 3/25 Vintage Silver Print, ©William Carter 1991
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
The Middle Americans (Part 4)
Quiet Truths Near the Center of Our Lives
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
The Middle Americans (Part 3)
Quiet Truths Near the Center of Our Lives
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
The Middle Americans (Part 2)
Quiet Truths Near the Center of Our Lives
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Inverness, California 2002
Please click on image for full-size version. To view more panoramic images, please visit this page on my website.
My wife Ulla and I were staying overnight with friends in Inverness, near the Pacific Coast in northern California. We were in their lovely new guesthouse in a lush garden and forest setting of coast redwoods. Waking early, I glanced out the window at a remarkable scene, like a fantasy, the way the rain had just stopped and light was filtering through the not-yet dissipated mist. Still in my pajamas, I grabbed my large Linhof panoramic camera, tripod, film, light meter and ran outside. I knew those conditions would not last, and I knew what the camera settings should be for that light. It was chilly but I was warm with sweat. I found the spot to set up but the ground was wet, so the tripod and I were both tending to sink in the mud. I had to stabilize the tripod, or wait for in between moments when it was not sinking, because to get infinite depth of field even with Tri-X film required exposures of 1/15 of a second or slower, which would blur the image if the camera moved. Meanwhile the light was changing, in and out, up and down, involving me in an intricate dance; just when it all came together and I pushed the cable release (gently to avoid causing movement), I heard Ulla open a window and in a bleary early voice asked what I thought I was doing out there in the cold and wet in my pajamas with mud all over me. I shouted something terse and dismissive. Finally I finished several exposures and the light was fading and I trudged back dripping mud and thinking of coffee and a shower and wondering what I or Ulla would do about my soaked pajamas.
One of the frames turned out great. I scanned it and printed it 30 inches wide on an Epson printer, have sold a couple of prints, and 9 years later used it on page 293 of my retrospective book, Causes and Spirits. Including it there was a late breaking decision because the book was mainly about people; altering the last chapter in order to include that and some other non-people images interrupted the printing cycle and caused the great publisher, Gerhard Steidl, to remain angry at me for about a year.
But the Linhof is still okay. Also the pajamas. Also Ulla.
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Portrait Of…?
Content is in the eye of the beholder
by William Carter
The Holy Karmapa, age seven, at Tsurphu Monastery, Tibet, October, 1992. Eight years later, in 2000, he fled Chinese occupation to join the Dalai Lama in India. Photograph by William Carter 1992
Every picture carries meanings behind the surface — beyond the literal. Our yearning for such meanings makes us human. This enduring, endearing need for meaning appears in many guises.
Photographs carry values. Across much of Europe and the U.S., many of the old churches are empty. But the museums are full. People hunger for something beyond the commercial — even as some monuments of high culture seem to have become palaces of mass entertainment.
Every photograph is a slice through space, and a slice of time. Different slices mean differently to different persons.
The Karmapa, above, is looking at you, even as you are looking at him. What part of you is he looking at? How do you see him? If you are looking at him while he is looking at you, are you in effect looking at yourself?
And what about the shot below, of the Duchess and Duke of Windsor (the abdicated British king), and their driver: what do you — and the onlookers beyond the window — bring to this picture?
Photograph by William Carter 1967
And what, then of pictures of your relatives, or your children? I took the photo below of Jobi, my wife’s grandson, on his 17th birthday. Different people see it differently. I don’t notice the hair, for example; I just see the eyes as spiritual; reminds me of an Italian Renaissance painting.
Jobim Morris Gavrielli, June 30, 2012; photograph by William Carter
In the same way, my published photographs elicit a wide variety of responses. In my recent book, Causes and Spirits, my shot of an older woman carrying a watering can up the steps of her Minnesota bungalow in 1973 elicited an e-mail from a man who speculated on the market value of the house, then and now, 39 years later.
Northern Minnesota, 1973
For decades (actually, centuries) artists in various media have preoccupied themselves with issues of their own identity. Contemporary educators and tastemakers have supported this kind of questioning, often as a critique of modern society. Since the 1970s some have even called it the “culture of complaint.” Sculptures such as this were evidently meant to shock visitors to the Jerusalem’s Israel Museum in 1993:
Photograph by William Carter 1993
My response was to look elsewhere for things closer to my own heart. I found them in a nearby orphanage, and in a refugee camp:
Photograph by William Carter 1993
Photograph by William Carter 1993
In the Middle East, as I mentioned in earlier blogs, perception of identity and reality hinges crucially on tribal affiliation. My self-assignment as a photographer has long been to try to see past such tags, to the underlying humanity. Does this slot me with 19th century romanticism and impressionism, as opposed to modernism or postmodernism or what else is currently hip? Who cares? This image from Hungary in 1964 belies the fact that Russian tanks were parked just over the hill:
Photograph by William Carter 1964
Or this one, in Yemen, at a time when the Egyptians and the Saudis were fighting a proxy war there, with the subtle involvement of the Americans and the Soviets (sound familiar?):
Photograph by William Carter 1964
As a kind of summing up, here’s one from my book, Preservation Hall. It’s of Emanuel Sales singing in New Orleans. One of his fellow jazzmen told me, “You got to have soul, man, to do this work.”
Photograph by William Carter 1991
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Living Spaces 10
1. Dusseldorf, Germany
2. Weimar, Germany
3. Weimar, Germany
4. Dusseldorf, Germany
5. New York, N.Y.
6. Paris, France
7. Dusseldorf, Germany
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Living Spaces 9
Response to this post:
Earlier this month I received Living Spaces 9. Thank you so very much for having the sequence sent to me. It is always a treat when I open my mail and see that there is something with your name attached, and then, well, it is a bit like unwrapping a gift, that moment of holding the breath a little, and then that involuntary first response in the first encounter. For example, # 7 (Southern California) had me chuckle, then pause, then hum… the photograph is such a feast of listening and speaking, and how much of that listening we do with our backs, a barely turned head, even the hat hears it and the ocean rolls in to listen along as words bop up and down the belly. Delightful — and loud!
There was also a picture that almost hurt — the last one, # 8, Salisbury, England. Perhaps some gestures ache us when we see them because they awake something we long for even as we might fear it? That gesture of reaching out, its vulnerability, — isn’t that always the most precarious and most dangerous first step in any reconciliation and also its grandeur de vivre? Yes, this picture has accompanied me, just like the Corconio Couple, through many nights. It will continue to challenge me, and that is a good thing.
Thank you again.
Sincerely,
Rahel Hahn
1. Alexandria, Virginia
2. Alexandria, Virginia
3. Illinois
4. Northern California
5. Northern California
6. Northern California
7. Southern California
8. Salisbury, England
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Living Spaces 8
This series of posts elicited two particularly eloquent responses via email (other comments below):
“Dear Sir, Thank you for these photographs. In the clutter of my daily life your pictures invite me to living and living spaces that are clear, nuanced, simple, textured, and — especially when I look at the 4th one with that lovely gentle veiling and unveiling— not beholden to fear, the fear of peace or of dying. But lest I get too serious here: they also remind me of the sweet smell of laundry drying outside (I live in paradise, no pollution here). Best wishes and thank you again.” —Rahel Hahn
“Each picture is like a visual poem calling to mind Emily Dickenson in their spare and ambiguous content.” —Weston Naef, Founding Curator of Photographs, J. Paul Getty Museum
1. Ameno (Lago di Orta), Italy, circa 2005
2. Ameno (Lago di Orta), Italy, circa 2005
3. Ameno (Lago di Orta), Italy, circa 2005
4. Gualala, California, circa 2013
5. Gualala, California, circa 2013
6. Lago di Orta, Italy, circa 1989
7. Orta San Giulio, Italy, circa 1992
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Living Spaces 7
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. Publisher Gerhard Steidl, Göttingen, Germany
7.
8.
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Living Spaces 6
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Living Spaces 5
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Living Spaces 4
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Living Spaces 3
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Living Spaces 2
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Living Spaces 1
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Them vs. Us, and Beyond, Part 4
HORIZON OF HOPE
By William Carter
Stellshagen, Germany, 1999. Click on image for full-size version.
So often, these days, we feel caught in a clash of forces. When passions collide, resolution appears impossible.
Interminable wars, tribal struggles, sagging economies, rancorous politics, divorce courts, teenage gangs sometimes mirror our own internal struggles.
“Kill! Kill!” the drill sergeants taught my platoon to scream in basic training, running down a hill with fixed bayonets.
Violent mainstream movie content suggests such urges are never far from the surface.
Science has brought huge material gains, zero moral progress.
We are as we are.
End of story? Or can the situation change?
Research on human brain activity is famously hard to do. But progress is under way, and a spate of recent books describes the gradual unveiling of this final frontier. Careful, long-term studies are shedding light on the deep wellsprings of our thoughts and actions.
In The Moral Molecule (2012) neurologist Paul J. Zak summarizes decades of research into the ways the brain-and-blood chemicals oxytocin and testosterone powerfully affect human thought and behavior.
How culturally and tribally based languages, including music, express and determine our attitudes and actions via specific brain centers and pathways is the focus of the work of Daniel J. Levitin as outlined in books such as This Is Your Brain on Music (2007) and The World in Six Songs (2009).
Oliver Sacks is a well-known writer on these crossover areas between brain, behavior, and art.
Here are a few other recent titles, in alphabetical order:
Christopher Boehm, Moral Origins: The Evolution of Virtue, Altruism and Shame (2012)
Richard J. Davidson with Sharon Begley, The Emotional Life of Your Brain (2012)
Denis Dutton, The Art Instinct (2009)
Jonathan Haidt, The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion (2012)
Marc Lewis, Memoires of an Addicted Brain: A Neuroscientist Examines His Former Life on Drugs (2011)
Mark Pagel, Wired for Culture: Origins of the Human Social Mind (2012)
Sebastian Seung, Connectome: How the Brain’s Wiring Makes Us Who We Are (2012)
We are as we are. Not necessarily as we thought we were — or could be.
The research nudges us past our deeply rooted tendencies to separate mind and brain, spirit and matter, them and us. The physical and spiritual are shown as one substrate. We are encouraged to seek resolution beyond the opposites, within that unified field. At least we can witness ourselves from a wider perspective, hopefully adding some humility.
While the wars rage on.
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
Egypt Update 12/3/2013
Text: Another dispatch from our friend and correspondent, Virginia Papadopoulo, living and teaching in Egypt.
Photographs: © William Carter 1964: Amid profound changes, has Egypt’s inner spirit survived?
I wish I had good news for you from Cairo, but things just keep getting worse. The word is that the American School in Maadi, where I live, had a number of students leave [see below]. Most of the U.S. Embassy families had to leave and they are closing the U.S. Consulate in Alexandria. Our school out in Sheikh Zayed did not suffer much of a loss, because most of the families are very wealthy Egyptians. Out by our school life goes on as usual – shopping malls are popping up like mushrooms, and the restaurants are open and full. The reason I left the desert [see below] after my first year was because It was not Egypt. Could have been any wealthy neighborhood I have visited in the world.
What does worry me is the incidence of attacks on fellow teachers. One wonderful Dutch couple were mugged twice in the last several months. They are now looking to leave, and they love Cairo. Local Egyptian friends were stopped at check points during the curfew and harassed, threatened, and taken to jail. Two teachers went through very humiliating luggage searches coming from the airport. Small incidents, but they end up being the topic of conversation. There are more demonstrations in my town, but I don’t usually go out on Friday. The town of Mohandiseen where a lot of teachers live is becoming unbearable for many because of the constant demonstrations, and they are moving out near the school and not returning next year.
I am sitting here in my apartment and there are horns blaring, gun shots, and packs of dogs barking, but it could be from a wedding — it is hard to tell.
I am not out and about at night unless with friends, and even that is pretty local. I walk to and from my bus on the same route every day and I know my neighborhood. I greet and am greeted every day and feel perfectly safe – maybe being 70 has something to do with that. Or, maybe I just want to believe everything is ok, to give me another reason to keep doing what I love so much, and to stay here.
later:
Just spoke to a colleague whose husband works at the American Embassy. She was told not to come back in September, but her husband stayed in Egypt. She had to put her three children into schools in the US, but finally returned this week. Her children go to CAC. Her words to me were, “The school had approximately 1,400 students before the first revolution, and they are down to about 900 after the 2nd revolution.” So somewhere between 1-2 hundred have not returned this year. There are several other international schools that have shut down completely, but to be fair, people are returning. Who they are I don’t know. The important thing is that these returns do not significantly improve the tourist trade—it is dying a slow death. It is absolutely the perfect time to “See Egypt” —no crowds.
When I say the desert, I am talking about an area called Sheikh Zayed, and it is in the larger area of 6 October. It is southwest of the pyramids, (which we see twice a day, and still bring tears to my eyes) and probably 25 miles out. Initially the drive was through farmland—beautiful. There were compounds near the school, but mostly sand four years ago. The view from the front of my school was truly nothing but desert. There were no restaurants in our area and only one huge grocery store to shop in a few miles from where we lived, which you had to take a taxi to. That was four years ago, and the reason why I wanted to get out of the desert and move into the life of Cairo proper. Today the sand is gone and all you see for miles and miles are huge walled compounds and shopping malls. The beautiful farmland is vanishing, and it seem the reason is because there is no control on building. I should have invested in cement and construction equipment four years ago!
Above: Pharaoh-like statue of dictator General Gamal Nasser outside Supreme Military Headquarters, 1964: in six decades of change, does a need for strong-armed authority persist?
Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.
By William Carter 