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To
date, I have welcomed my Mac and Photoshop into my life like a free
Picasso. To be clear, as a personal choice, I don't do photo
composite stuff. I don't put angel wings on a nude and have her
flying over the Sahara. Frankly, I think it would be more fun to try
that real time. Besides, we'd all be out there naked and warm.
Nonetheless, it's quite fascinating to look at, and better when the
artist considers the direction, quality and color of light when
putting it all together. Rather I am using my digital tools as a
darkroom. I may enhance color, change tone, eliminate detail, or
dodge and burn as never before possible. Despite the up front pains
I traditionally take, I have never made an image that couldn't be
improved. No one has. It's the impure nature of the physical world.
Beyond that, once I'm satisfied, I can now store the final
information and generate identical prints whenever needed. That
alone makes me understand how the crowd felt when Moses descended
Sinai with an armful of rocks.
I
came to photography through a rather indirect path. I always had
some interest in the medium after my Dad gave me his old Argus C3
around my 12th birthday. I toyed with the camera and a makeshift
darkroom too some degree, , but it was simply just another one of my
interests. In late 1976, I transferred to the University of New
Hampshire to attend their Forestry School. I had done my research.
It offered the best program in the country, and I was quite taken
with the notion of eventually living in the Rockies, riding
horseback through the Continental Divide, and hunting down rogue
bear. Freshly married, I moved from New York and eventually went to
an interview with the chairman of the department. Halfway though, he
paused, put his arm around my shoulders and gently pointed me toward
reality. Seems that twenty years from graduation, I'd still be
planting pine trees. If I was luckier than most I could, in time, go
to work for a paper or pulp mill.
A
little catatonic and needing some time, I began looking for some
temporary work. found that the photo labs at UNH had a slot. I
interviewed and was under the safelights the following week. As it
turned out, this particular department was a highly creative place
to be at the time. I stayed for seven years and in the end, due to
some formal and informal training in the arts, ended up heading
their design department. During that tenure, I was receiving some
national attention through the likes of Communication Arts and Print
Magazine. I was exhibiting and having my pieces purchased. My images
were being collected by the Polaroid Corporation. I also received an
NEA grant, entitled Route 40, where I took a Karmen Ghia across this
southern interstate for a month and simply photI found that enjoyed
being behind my camera alot more than my straight edge. I also found
that I would rather shoot than assign the photography. One day,
after contemplating my next move, I sent what I considered a
portfolio to Bert Glinn. About two weeks later, I received a call
from China, informing me that, as current president of Magnum, he
was sponsoring me for membership.
At
that point, there weren't too many choices left . I had a clear
feeling about what I would be doing with the rest of my life. For
reasons involving both business and politics, I respectfully
declined. None-the-less I took a modest second mortgage, composed my
resignation and hit the streets.
My
work has been described as highly graphic. I 'm sure that alot of
that influence can be attributed to my days as a designer. For me,
there is a certain elegance in simplicity. like to work in visual
Haiku. I like to impart my work with some grace, some order, and
balance. Once I build that framework, I deal with content. I am
fortunate enough to have an innate ability which allows me to grasp
forms in space without too much difficulty. I don't tolerate
extraneous elements very well. If something doesn't fit within my
two dimensional world , one way or another, that element is history.
It's simply a matter of focus for me. If you don't prepare the
canvas, your paint has nothing to adhere to.
Meticulous
may be a good way of describing my work. To be sure, the quality of
light and shadow is equally important. As a matter of fact, I
consider those elements as an essential part of the design. But for
me, without visual order, an image fails despite the content. All
things must be considered. Harmonies must be present for the message
to be fluent. It all must come together symphonically. If there is
too much noise, at least for me, it is difficult to hear the melody.
I assume as much for the audience. It is an Eastern experience when
I shoot. An attempt at Zen within the frame.
I
am driven by a fear of personal failure. Historically all artists
are. I tend to totally ignore the size of a budget or the complexity
of a production. From experience, I know that one way or another I
will pull off the shoot. Rather, any anxiety I experience comes from
self-demand. The comforts of knowing that the client is pleased with
the results, your estimate was within 10 percent, you didn't fall
out of the chopper and your rep has you booked for another job are
not to be discounted.
More
importantly however, I am haunted with the question of whether or
not I was able build past this personal plateau. Did I create
something more original than my last image ? Did I manage to push a
combination of perception and technique a little further than my
last outing ? Despite any applause, the real question comes down to
something quite private. Did I grow or did I simply imitate myself ?
It is that factor , above everything, that creates my inertia and
makes me either a little despondent or deliriously happy depending
on the answer.
www.davidm.com
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