What I'm watching this week
In No Great Hurry: 13 Lessons in Life with Saul Leiter — a documentary about the photographer who spent decades shooting through rain-blurred glass, elevator mirrors, steamed windows. He was interested in the light that modified the picture. The film is about how a person decides to spend their attention. I found it by accident and watched it twice in a row.
The documentary record of a practice is evidence that the practice exists: to students, to buyers, to the version of yourself three years from now who will look at the footage and say, I worked that way, I have failed so wonderfully, I was thinking about those things, I made that or Have I made that?
The record is not the work, but work that leaves no trace is harder to believe in and harder for others to believe in.
The problem with documentation is that bad light makes the work look indifferent. A painting I care about, photographed under a flat overhead bulb, looks like a painting no one cared about, and no one will license, btw. The color shifts, the texture flattens, the value structure, which I spent two sessions getting right, disappears into grey inbetweens.
Jan Vermeer — specifically, the writing around the camera obscura hypothesis — is what I've been thinking about. Whether he traced light projected through a lens. What stays with me is the question of underneath: what is a painter willing to build in order to get the light right? Vermeer may have constructed an optical instrument for the single purpose of understanding how light actually falls on fabric, on faces, on the table beside the window. I bought a ring light. Different scale but a similar instinct. I know it may sound sellsy, but believe me, light is powerful when it falls on art. Light is also just powerful, but I'll write about that some other time, as the topic is humongous.
What I read this week
Phillip Steadman's Vermeer's Camera — the technical argument for the camera obscura, painstakingly mapped. What I found more interesting than the conclusion: the evidence that Vermeer set up his studio scenes deliberately, repeatedly, with great care for where the light fell. He staged the light before he painted the light. The painting is the third thing — the light is the first, the staging is the second. I've started treating documentation the same way. The setup happens before the recording. Both matter.
What I love this week
LUOLED Ring Light with Stand and Phone Holder.
Overhead arm configuration, adjustable color temperature (warm to cool), dimmable, and positioned above the work rather than at an angle, which means no glare on wet surfaces, which means the color in the photograph is the color you actually mixed. I use it for documentation of work in progress, for flat-lay shots of finished pieces before shipping, for anything where the light needs to be consistent from session to session. Small footprint, does exactly what it says.
EUCOS Newest 62" Phone Tripod.
I have a total of 5, one stayed with my dad in Poland. Because—hear me out—you don't want to touch your phone. On walks, I dragged my tripod with me. This one is taller than you'd expect, which is the right surprise: it extends high enough for overhead shots of larger formats without requiring a chair. The phone mount is secure, the ball head adjusts to the angle you want and stays there, and it folds flat for storage. I've had cheaper tripods fail mid-session — the head gives, the whole setup shifts — and once that happens, you don't trust it, and you stop documenting. This one has been dependable in the way that good infrastructure is dependable.
Other Internet Love plucked from the Garden of e-Delights:
- Tim's Vermeer — a documentary about a man who spends years trying to understand exactly how Vermeer captured light. The obsession is the point. Also: genuinely useful for thinking about which optical aids change and which don't.
- How Documentary Filmmakers Make Synthetic Light Look Natural — PremiumBeat — written for film crews but immediately useful for studio documentation. The section on gelling artificial light to match window light is the most practical thing I've read about indoor photography this year.
What I'm working on, studio bits.
Seems like a lot of work about wine comes my way, which is fantastic. I illustrate, don't drink much, to be honest! Then, there is my watercolor course, which generous people consider wonderful, and I'm about to record a Q & A.
I'm also working on something new, very new, but with the nostalgic mark—gold. I've been missing that kind of LIGHT (like gold) for a very long time.
"Photography isn't about cameras any more than painting is about brushes." — Berenice Abbott
