Jay Gould Photography Blog

I'm kicking myself right now.  It's a good thing I've started biking more and have some new leg strength because I want to feel this.  For years, like many of you, I stored my assortment of computer, television, printer, and general electronic boxes and packaging just in case I needed to send it somewhere or sell it out of back of my pick-up as "gently used."  I finally decided to part with most of my collection when I moved down South.  I figured that with their warranties long gone and vintage computers not having the market share right now, I would not need them to take up space.

THEN CAME THE STYROBOT!

I saw some of these online a few months ago from artist and teacher Michael Salter created several for exhibition.  Then I thought they were awesome, but out of my space limitations.  Then Kevin Kelly over at Geekdad , a blog I greatly enjoy (even though I'm no dad), featured a homemade one at a size I could have handled.

I would have named him "Squeaky," or "Squeakatron."

I just wanted to give a big THANK YOU to all of you who came out to sit through my artist lecture last night at the Masur Museum of Art.  I did not imagine that it would an over-full house on a Summer Tuesday night!  I enjoyed having the opportunity to share my ideas with you and hear your comments. 

Tomorrow is the last day to catch the exhibition, so those of you that haven't seen it yet should stop by and take a gander at the Louisiana Seven.

So it's cliche', and not the greatest Bond movie ever, but this is one phrase that happens to be fairly accurate. A diamond, as most people know, is the hardest material currently known. Thanks to its molecular lattice structure and being formed from graphite a diamond is said to be metastable, as well as kinetically stable, existing in its exceptional state for an appreciable amount of time. As far as Earth years go, the life of a kinetically stable object might as well be forever. 

This stability of this gem is one reason it has become a symbol for eternal value. Even as their prices have dropped, the diamond is still synonymous with brilliance and $$$. Many of you have probably seen Damien Hirst's recent creation "For the Love of God," a life-size cast of a human skull in platinum and covered by 8,601 pave-set diamonds weighing 1,106.18 carats. There is a lot of discussion on the piece (e.g. here , here , here ). Personally, I like it. As a decadent death mask reflecting eternity, it would be hard to find a more appropriate material than diamonds.  And, as a high production price artist obsessed with death, this might be Hirst's peak. However, what this piece has really done for me is caused me to notice and remember other uses of diamonds in unusual, artistic applications and why the gem is valuable (or not) in these applications.

Only a day after seeing Hirst's blingin' skull, i saw the Bruster's Diamond Treat. At first, I thought the piece was edible and those sparkles were just huge sugar crystals making a cone that would compete in a desert market that also contains multi-million dollar cakes . Brusters commissioned this gold and diamond replica of their signature treat to "represent Bruster's product quality and excellence of service." OK, I get it, but I think it's pretty ugly.

Perhaps the most famous use of diamonds in the fine art world is from Andy Warhol's Diamond Dust Shoe paintings . The diamond dust Warhol sprinkled on these paintings served to further glamorize his famous shoe motif, the symbol of the highs and lows of pop-art and high society. Warhol used the diamond effectively and emphasized what it is, a universal symbol for magic and money, with better recognition than any other object.

While Hirst and his agent purchased the diamonds for his skull, Vik Muniz probably borrowed the pile of gems he used to make his 2004 set "Pictures of Diamonds." Like usual, Muniz uses the materials to create portraits that will reflect that particular subject. In this case, the diamonds shine like stars in the likeness of an immortalized screen figure. In the end, all of these images and ideas are fleeting, but the gem will easily outlast, defying the ownership and social status placed upon it.

High production price art is a booming concept and "Diamond Damien" has made the figures jump immensely. However, there is an undeniable power in the stone's connotations of magic, wealth and stability. Most artists cannot afford to use the stone in their work, but for those that can, the diamond makes a definite statement, but it doesn't necessarily mean that the art will last forever.

Bette Davis - from Vik Muniz's Pictures of Diamonds series, 2004

Another diamond tidbit:  As well as being the hardest known material, it is also the least compressible, and the stiffest material, the best thermal conductor with an extremely low thermal expansion, chemically inert to most acids and alkalis, transparent from the deep uv through the visible to the far infrared, and is one of the few materials known with a negative electron affinity (or work function). 

A little less than a year ago I was enjoying myself in the hectic and humbling environment at Review Santa Fe. Meeting the artists behind the work I loved, like the Chicagraphers , and new friends, like Todd and John , as well as unbeknownst future co-workers like Joy .

Before I ever considered even being worthy to attend, I had followed the work Santa Fe prize winners, such as Alec Soth   , Eirik Johnson , and Sheila Pree Bright .  Seeing their careers exposure in the years following the review truly made me want to attend to at least naively probe into the photography world a bit.

This years winner, Leigh Anne Langwell , has been stuck in my eyes for days.  In contrast to the winners previously mentioned, this work is black and white photograms with a scientific twist.  As many of you know, this harmony of science and photography has been the subject of my research for many years.  I am always amazed at how I can endlessly search for related work and still randomly be presented with some that has been in front of my face for some time.

This work follows in a history of the beautiful invisible world.  Though the artist has a background with microphotography, these are fiction, fabricated to give the immediate impression of real, yet somehow by the careful nature of their production they make me think even more about our relationship to the unseen mechanics of our bodies and the universe.  

To see more, check out The Center and Langwell's page . 

I am finally getting around to reading the recent Aperture and am happy to report that it has been getting me pretty psyched up for the upcoming weeks ahead.  Next week, a quick trip to Louisiana and the week after that presenting an Imagemaker lecture at SPE's National Conference in Miami.  The last month in Minnesota has been less than hospitable for photographing, but I am buckling down to drop some film this weekend with the help of some new strobes.. woo-hoo.

A lot has been passing through my head, but the very first article that I read in the current Aperture has been lodged in my head for days.  The article is a dialogue between writer Luc Sante and Stephen Shore regarding his book, The Nature of Photographs.  I have read very little from Shore.  An article here, an interview there, but not his entire book.  After this short article I am looking forward to getting my hands on this book.

Within the wide range of topics addressed, Shore even touches digitization's effect on photography, something I have never heard from him.  It is valuable to hear someone who was at the front of one photographic revolution speak about another massive shift.  He answers with an open mind that seems characteristic of an eloquent and supportive professor.  Essentially a nod to go ahead, but with caution.  He refers to there being a lot of "junk" being produced because of the immaterial aspect of digital, something I am looking forward to hearing more about in Nancy Spector's keynote lecture at SPE . 

What really has been stuck in my head was Shore's very last statement:

I guess what it comes down to is: an illustration is aiming the camera at the direction of some content, while the photograph is making sense of it."

I am someone who likes to define things.  Creating personal definitions for things allows me to really understand something and more effectively create what I am after in a specific art/job/task.  This definition of Shore's is well said.  Many people like to think of photography in terms of illustration, and I sometimes feel as though my work walks the line of illustration in other's eyes, but when I put it in the context of Shore's definition I know exactly where I stand.  Making Sense, that is exactly what interests me about photography and why, in the end, I am obsessed by it.

On a side note: Those of us who studied at the Savannah College of Art and Design know Mr. Shore as Stephen "F'ing" Shore, a result of a funny story about a professor's experience at CAA 25 years ago, when Shore received his long held position at Bard College.  

It was about a year and a half ago that I had a very exciting dream to create a giant, fully-operational drinking bird. You know, those funny glass beaker birds with goofy top hats and insatiable thirsts. I can think of perhaps a few others in my life that also sorta fit that description, but that is for another time. At the time I was very excited with the idea of making these birds and using them for photographs and installations. The technical aspects of the construction was going to elude me until I had some moo-laa, but I figured I was safe for a time… wow was I wrong.

I immediately created this non-working bird for a photograph and was satisfied for the time being. Since much of my work emphasizes the childlike curiosity of my scientist persona, the drinking bird was a nice, highly recognizable item to start with.

to see a larger version visit the ‘field studies’ series on my photographs page.

Now here is where my hopes and dreams were dashed against the chalkboard… A few months ago I came across Daniel Reynolds and his Drinking Bird Project at www.drinkingbirds.com. They are beautiful. Perfect enlargements of the small toy, and there are so many!

I am not bitter now, I never really was, just awestruck that someone beat me to the crazy idea. Daniel did what seems to be a terrific job not only in the presentation of an exhibition of these birds, but also in adding the background process and science to the website.

I no longer plan on making a giant bird, but perhaps look forward to someday exhibiting my image next to one of these marvelous birds.