Julius Shulman 1910-2009

Julius Shulman, born in 1910 in Brooklyn, New York, who became America’s best known architectural photographer, largely for his pictures of the new modern architecture in California, died on 15 July aged 98. You can read obituaries in The Guardian and most other newspapers from around the world.

Shulman’s Russian parents had met in their teens when both came to New York from Russia, and soon after his birth the family moved to rural Connecticut where his father farmed on around a hundred acres, several miles from the nearest village. It was a close to nature subsistence upbringing, living on an isolated farm with a single farmhand.

In 1990 Shulman recorded an interview with Taina Rikala De Noreiga for the Smithsonian Institution Archives of American Art – and much of what I know about his life comes from this, which was a major source when I first wrote about him in 2001 for About Photography. Here he says that the farm  “was the beginning of my association with Nature” which remained important throughout his life.

When he was ten the family moved west to California, and his parent ran a dry goods store in Los Angeles, continued by his mother after his father died in 1923. Shulman joined the boy scouts and went hiking and camping and went to a high school that – very unusually for the time – included photography as one of its classes.

He started taking pictures for the class when he was 17, using the family  ‘Eastman Box Camera’, but although his work was good, didn’t consider it as a career.  He had decided to go to university and study electrical engineering, and took a year out before starting at UCLA in 1929 to earn some money and buy his first car, as well as spending as much time as possible in the outdoors.

He soon dropped out of the college course, but continued to hang out around the campus. He was given a Vest Pocket Kodak as a birthday present and began to use it to take pictures on his hikes. When a friend who was a student at Berkeley suggested he move there, he took the camera and began to make a few dollars taking portraits of students there and selling pictures of the older campus buildings through the campus shop.

In 1936 he went back to Los Angeles, where his sister ran a drug store close to architect Richard Neutra’s office. A new young draughtsman who joined Neutra took the spare room in his sister’s house and the two young men became friends. One Sunday afternoon he took Shulman to look around a house Neutra had designed that was almost finished, and Shulman took half a dozen pictures.

His new friend took some 8x10s of these pictures to show his boss who liked them and asked to meet the photographer – and on 5 March 1936 when Netra bought these prints, Shulman’s career as an architectural photographer was launched. Neutra introduced him to the other architects he knew, including Raphael Soriano, Rudolf Schindler and Gregory Ain, and commissioned him to photograph his own new buildings.

In 1937, Shulman was earning enough to buy a view camera, and he also got married.; at that time photography was a fairly easy way to earn a living and left him plenty of time to go walking and camping. The start of the war brought new commissions as new factories were built, but then his career was interrupted when he had to join the army. He worked for two years as a medical photographer on a private’s pay.

His wife kept the business going during his service, getting prints  made and selling these, particularly to the architecture collection of the Museum of Modern Art. The young architects whose work he had recorded were becoming famous, and pictures were in demand.

Shulman’s successful career as an architectural photographer resumed in the post-war years. His pictures very much shared a modernist aesthetic with those architects whose work he famously photographed, and his ‘retirement’ in 1987 was probably as much a matter of changing styles of architecture which he felt little interest in as anything else.

He did in fact continue to take photographs, but was able to choose just the best of the new buildings as his subjects, including Frank Gehry’s Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain and Richard Meier’s Getty Center in  Los Angeles. He was the only photographer to be granted  honorary lifetime membership by the American Institute of Architects.

Shulman’s best known image is picture of Pierre Koenig‘s Case Study House #22, Los Angeles, California. made at night in 1960. In it two women are suspended in a glass and steel box apparently floating over the night-time grid of the lights of Hollywood below. It was created on a single sheet of film, combining a long time exposure with a second short flash lit exposure for the interior, and you can read exactly how it was done in a fascinating Taschen feature, The Making of an Icon, which reunited the six people involved in the shot in 2001.

Also worth looking at are L A Obscura, the web site of a 1998 exhibition of his photography at the University of Southern California, and a feature for the 2005/6 show at the Getty. You can also watch a short trailer for the film ‘Visual Acoustics, The Modernism of Julius Shulman‘ which includes a little footage of the man himself.

I’m not sure that Shulman was “the greatest architectural photographer of all time“, but he was certainly a very good one, and the best-known of American architectural photographers of the 20th century.

Lensculture Audio

I’m not generally a huge fan of interviews with photographers which too often fail to illuminate their work, particularly if they are in glossy magazines and supplements. Too often interviewers fail to ask the right questions, and sometimes photographers seem to have little idea of the answers.

But over the years I’ve listened to a number of Jim Casper’s audio conversations on Lensculture with interest, and often linked to them from posts here and elsewhere. So it’s good to have a whole collection of them linked from a single page there, each with a small photograph and a transcript of an excerpt from the audio.

I’m not sure whether it’s that Jim asks the right questions or that he chooses the right photographers – but every one I’ve listened to so far is worth a listen. Or perhaps there are conversations he records that don’t make it to the site.

What I do think  is missing is an index. At the moment there are (I think) 38 photographers and it’s very easy to miss some as you scroll down the very long page, three to a row. Its a problem that can only get worse as Jim talks to more people and adds them to the page.

Subotzky Wins Barnack Award

Oskar Barnack (1879–1936) was of course the inventor of the Leica, a photographer who wanted to make use of 35mm movie film for taking still images, and his pictures of the 1920 floods in Wetzlar qualify as the first reportage series taken with a still camera on 35mm.

Leica started an annual photographic award named after him to make the 100th anniversary of his birth in 1979, and this year, the 30th award was supplemented with a Newcomer Award for photographers under 25. Both are for “photographers whose unerring powers of observation capture and express the relationship between man and the environment in the most graphic form in a sequence of up to 12 images …  in which the photographer perceives and documents the interaction between man and the environment with acute vision and contemporary visual style – creative, groundbreaking and unintrusive.” In other words very much the mode of photography that the Leica made possible. The prizes aren’t huge – 5000 and 25000 euros respectively – but the prestige is, with the prizes being presented as a part of the Arles Rencontres.

This year’s winner is South African Mikhael Subotzky (b1981) who became a Magnum Nominee in 2007  and he has more work on his own site, all of it worth a look. He was one of my ‘Top 5′ from PDN’s 30 to watch in 2008 – and again got a mention here when he won the Infinity Young Photographer award the same year.

The Newcomer award went to Swiss-born photographer http://dominicnahr.com/main/ Dominic Nahr for his photographic essay from the Congo, titled ‘The Road to Nowhere’. He was one of PDN’s ’30’ to watch this year.

These awards are easy to enter on-line and attract very many entrants from around the world, including some of the best known photojournalists. All of the entries get displayed on the site, and you can look through them in various ways. By default the page that opens in my browser includes James Nachtwey, Bruno Stevens and others whose names I recognise. You can also look at the entries sorted by name – although entrants can choose to use a nickname – a letter of the alphabet at a time, or by country.

Although British entrants are labelled ‘Great Britain’ you will find them under U, though be warned, navigating the sideways scrolling site is somewhat like riding a bucking bronco (perhaps it worked better on the designers own system, but a simpler approach would have been preferable.) Eventually I did manage to find about 30 UK entrants for the main award, covering an extremely wide range of work, with a few of the best photographers around, down to work that could have come from almost any class of students and just one or two that seemed typically Flickr. There were fewer UK entries for the Newcomer Award, but some interesting work among them.

I couldn’t see anywhere the total number of entrants, but it must be pretty huge, and it takes a while for the “Show all” file to download (certainly longer than it took me to type this paragraph.) Fortunately you can start looking through the images before it finishes, but it isn’t easy to handle. There is so much on-line here that I find it difficult to cope, and it isn’t clear how long it will remain on line. Perhaps the best way to view it is the alphabetical listing and I mean to look through perhaps a letter a day, picking a few that interest me to click on to see the whole series.

Tour de France

You can see 25 pictures from the Magnum archive of the Tour de France over the years on Slate.

For me, while I particularly admire John Vink’s pictures in this set – and you can see more in his story France Tour De France from 1985, I think it’s really the images by Robert Capa from the 1930s that have the strongest appeal. The event has changed so much over the years, and somehow back then it was all so more human and appealing.

And of course they even rode bikes rather like mine, though that dates from the late 1950s, although since then its been through several sets of wheels, new brakes, a new saddle and so on.  But the Cinelli of Milan frame and forks, the drop handlebars and even the cranks and bottom bracket are still the same as those that raced on the continent  – but only before I was given it because it was worn out after a year and its owner needed a new steed for the coming season.  It’s almost exactly the same age as my Leica M2 and had I kept it in anything approaching its original state, equally a classic, though rather more valuable.

But bikes have evolved and so have cameras, and Leica (I speak as an M8 owner) just haven’t kept up so far as cameras are concerned, though the lenses remain state of the art. Yesterday I was rather envious of one of my friends, shooting with a Panasonic DMC-G1 with an adaptor to take Leica lenses.  One drawback of it is that the Four Thirds size sensor means that a 24mm is a standard lens. Also, the body seems only available with a kit 14-45mm f3.5-5.6 lens; however, not the GH1 with movie capability is available it does seem to be selling at relatively reasonable prices around £450 (the GH1 comes with a much more expensive lens at more than twice the price.) But a cheap adapter for Leica M lenses from eBay adds another £50 or so, and the camera isn’t quite as quiet as I’d like…

So perhaps I’m still not convinced that anyone has yet produced a really viable digital replacement for that M2. I can’t bring myself to get rid of it, but neither can I persuade myself its worth shooting film any more.

I don’t often ride the Cinelli either, or at least not further than the local shops or library. Most of the cycling I’ve done in recent years has been on a Brompton.  The Cinelli is better at getting from A to B fast, but so often I want to fold the bike up and put it on a train, and in other ways the Brompton is very handy too – and a shorter wheelbase maies it a better bike in rush hour traffic.

Hopper & Photography

Edward Hopper has long been one of my favourite artists, and Walker Evans one of my favourite photographers. Both of them had their first show at the Museum of Modern Art in the same year – 1933, and that certainly isn’t simply coincidence. But it may make it rather hard to disentangle their relative influences on our medium.

Apparently there was a show in Essen, Germany in 1992 on Hopper’s influence on photography, but I don’t recall reading about it at the time, though I suspect there is something hidden away in the piles of old photo magazines in my ‘study’, and that and another post on the same blog talk about the Vienna show last winter, Western Motel. Edward Hopper and Contemporary Art, including work by photographers Philip Lorca diCorcia and Jeff Wall and other artists.

A short search on the web also reveals images such as Jack Delano’s 1940 ‘Children in the tenement district, Brockton, Massachusetts’ posted under the heading Paging Edward Hopper: 1940, and posts such as Linda Marion‘s about the 2003 show at the Whitney, ‘Edward Hopper and Urban  Realism‘ perhaps go a long way toward explaining the coincidences between painting and photography. The Washington Post’s photography columnist, Frank van Riper, also contributed a very readable piece on Hopper when there was a huge Hopper retrospective at the National Gallery of Art in Washington in 2007-8.

But it’s still welcome to see Edwin Hopper & Company by Jeffrey Fraenkel (of the Fraenkel Gallery) with an essay by Robert Adams, and some of the articles related to it in the media, including Edward Hopper’s Influence by Claire O’Neill (on NPR) and The New York Times feature on the show earlier this year at the Fraenkel Gallery – and there is also a related slide show.

And if like me you didn’t make it to San Francisco, you can see a series of installation views of the show on the Fraenkel Gallery site. It all adds up to rather a treat for lovers of Hopper and photography, whatever conclusions you draw about it.

Orbs, Bad Weather & Summer Nights

Last night I was at a London Bloggers Meetup and one of the other bloggers present asked me if I would take a look at some photographs she had posted on her ‘Shaman UK‘ site of ‘orbs’ and tell her what I thought about how they might be caused.

What I found was one image of orbs – a rather nice example  – and a number showing illuminated blurs well outside the orb zone – perhaps insects or even small birds. Orbs are actually circles of confusion, out of focus images of the lens iris caused by light reflected from small particles too close to be brought to a focus.

The orb image – with the two cats – still contains its Exif data, and it’s interesting to see that it was taken on a Nikon D40X using flash at 1/60, f3.5 (full aperture)  with a focal length of 18mm (27mm equiv.)  This is interesting, since ‘orb’ pictures are much more common with small sensor cameras; also unusual is the blog author’s comment, about some other images, that she was  “actually seeing the orbs through the view-finder prior to pressing the shutter. ”

You can read a considerably amount about orbs, and the Orb Zone Theory of how they are produced –  and how to make them – on the ASSAP site  (Association for the Scientific Study of Anomalous Phenomena) which also has an interesting feature Paranormal photos and analysing them. The book also gives some advice should you want to produce your own ‘orb’ images (though my own advice would probably be to consult a doctor.)

Looking at the pictures showing flash reflections from objects in the air reminded me of Martin Parr‘s 1982 book, “Bad Weather” and I wandered to the shelf where I thought I might find it, but it wasn’t there.  I hope I still have it somewhere around the house, partly because I still think it (his first book) is probably also his most interesting, but also because it now sells for silly prices. There used to be a gallery of images from the book on the Magnum site, but it is no longer there, and a search (enter ‘bad weather Parr’)  now only brings up ten pictures from the book (plus one unrelated colour picture.)  You can also (with difficulty and persistence) find the book on Parr’s own web site.  Clicking twice at the bottom right corner of the cover image then allows you to look ata pair of images from the book which have a similar effect to those here, his flash illuminating the falling flakes in the right hand picture (click again for a few more images from the book.)

The image on the left of the pair I think shows a similar effect with rain drops, which are all apparently moving upwards, as a result of the flash at the start of the exposure followed by a tailing off effect as they continue to fall.  It’s like photographing other moving objects with a slow shutter speed, to get a light trail behind the object you need to use rear-curtain flash – probably not an option on the camera Parr was using, but I’m sure he would in any case prefer the odder effect given in his picture.

Parr of course deliberately went out in bad weather, while ‘Shaman UK‘ chose more pleasant times and at least on one occasion a location close to the Tom Cobley pub. As she says “spending time on warm evenings, in a beautiful location, with good company, human and animal, while photographing Nature, was wonderful and also fun.”

Summer Nights” is another of my favourite photography books, by Robert Adams, and the V&A have a nice little piece on it with a dozen images, mainly taken around twilight (click on them for larger versions.) There are possibly some among those of his pictures on the Fraenkel Gallery site, but that – like Parr’s – is another though very different text-book example of how not to write a web site, and I gave up before finding out.

Hoax Upsets Match

Probably most  will have read about the “student hoax” that won Paris Match’s annual contest for student photojournalism, a set of black and white images on how students at the French university of Strasbourg were making ends meet – if you’ve not seen the pictures, they are on the Paris Match site.

Students are shown searching through boxes left on the street after markets for food, staying in overcrowded rooms where they take turns to sleep on the floor, having to work as prostitutes, working long hours at low paid jobs, having to travel long distances from cheap lodgings…

At the prize ceremony, the two winners, Guillaume Chauvin and Rémi Hubert, from the Strasbourg School of Decorative Arts, read out a statement that the pictures were faked, made as an artistic gesture to point out the voyeurism and gullibility of the press. The Independent quotes them telling Le Monde, “We pushed the clichés to the limit. We thought the whole thing was so hackneyed that it could never win … We wanted to call into question the inner-workings of the attitude of the kind of media which portrays human distress with complacency and voyeurism.”

They were given the 5,000 Euros at the award ceremony, but the cheque was later stopped, although they claim not to have broken any of the competition rules in their work.  The rules will presumably be rewritten for next year!

Although the pictures are described as “entirely faked” this is arguable. Obviously they were pictures taken with the cooperation of the people involved, but the techniques and the level of direction are perhaps little different from those in many more legitimate photojournalistic projects.

Photographic history is of course full of such things – for example in the work of one of our greatest photographers, Bill Brandt, where so many of his deservedly well-known scenes of London in the thirties were acted to his direction by family, friends and servants.

It’s really the stories that were faked for the Match entry, or at least partly faked. Student poverty is a real issue, but the particular students shown were presumably not feeling its pinch in the way the captions to the images describe. The young lady in miniskirt and boots viewed from behind on a hotel or hostel corridor may well not be “Emma, 23 ans, Master de Philosphie” and may never have said “Pour pouvoir étudier le jour, je me sers de mon cul la nuit… ” But such things are happening and it is a picture that could well have appeared in the press entirely legitimately with the small text “posed by model” hidden at one corner.

I suppose the main thing I think about this work is that it represents a waste of time and effort. There is a problem of student poverty, and students such as Chauvin and Hubert have a privileged position to see it and document it in a truthful and serious work of reportage. To tell it without the clichés, without being hackneyed, though I’m not sure voyeurism is ever absent from photography.

Had they chosen to do so, their work would probably not have won the Paris Match prize, probably not even have been of interest to the magazines or to newspapers. The real problem lies in a culture that depends on prizes and values the voyeurism about distress these students were questioning.

You can see also see some of the other work entered for the competition on the Paris Match site, where the work by Chauvin and Hubert is not identified as the winning entry.  You can also watch a video of last year’s award ceremony, but not this!

PHotoEspaña 2009 Awards

You can read the details of the PHotoEspaña 2009 Awards on their web page (in English) but the two major awards, the PHotoEspaña Baume & Mercier 2009 Award went to Malick Sidibé (Mali, 1935 or 6), and the  Bartolome Ros Award to Spanish photographer Isabel Muñoz, born in Barcelona in 1951 and based in Madrid.

 Malick Sidibé

I’ve written on several occasions about Sidibé who has become deservedly well-known over recent years and last year was  given the 2008 ICP Infinity Lifetime Achievement award. He opened his portrait studio in Bamako in 1962 and among his other awards are the Hasselblad Foundation International Award in 2003. Lensculture has some pictures by Sidibé, and a transcription of an interview with him.   Hacklebury  also has a selection of his pictures and a brief biography while the Jack Shainman Gallery have an installation view of one of his shows and some works in their frames.

Isabel Muñoz

What strikes me immediately about the work of Isabel Muñoz, which you can see on her web site (her projects are under the link ‘La Obra‘, but ‘Making Off‘ throws some light on her methods) is both the precision of her black and white work, but also its enormous theatricality. It’s work that I admire greatly, but perhaps it sometimes leaves me a little cold.

There is also a gallery of her pictures from Ethiopia on LensCulture, as well as ten minutes (plus three)  of her in conversation with Jim Casper – another of his often revealing interviews (needs Quicktime – unfortunately QuickTime Plugin, v7.1 is blocked by Firefox 3  on Windows. ” Reason: remote code execution in multiple versions” so I had to switch to Internet Explorer – and presumably take a a risk!)  Muñoz talks in some detail about the subjects of her pictures and working with them.  She works on medium format, making large digital negatives (thanks to Dan Burkholder‘s methods) for platinum prints as well as normal silver prints.  In Ethiopia she also used a digital camera and made colour prints – and found the digital camera gave her a different relationship with her subjects.

Capa Again

Do we care if that picture of a falling soldier really does or doesn’t show the actual moment when a Republican fighter died for his cause?  Whether it was taken during actual fighting, or during a training exercise, or when a soldier acting out an attack for the camera got into the sight of a distant sniper? What does seem clear if you look at the surviving images by Capa is that neither Phillip Knightly or Richard Whelan (link above)  provided a believable solution to the enigma (see in particular comments #7 and #10 on the piece.)

The story seems to be one that will never come to an end – and you can read about the latest instalment in a feature, Wrong place, wrong man? Fresh doubts on Capa’s famed war photo, published in the Observer last Sunday. There is an audio slide show which takes a look at some of the evidence. Although I’d need to see rather  more before making any judgement; in particular it’s a shame that the José Manuel Susperregui, whose book Sombras de la Fotografía gives the evidence, apparently didn’t take a rather better photograph, preferably in black and white and with suitable lighting, than the one shown.

Capa’s picture was I think captioned and published in his absence by Vu magazine in September 1936, and it may well have come as rather a shock to him when he first saw it on the magazine page, although the caption there was almost certainly deliberately vague, and it was Life the following year who made it into the legend of the Falling Soldier. He was – as his writings show  – a great story-teller, and whatever the real story behind this image it would have been very hard to resist that provided in first publication.

Photojournalism is very much about telling stories, about giving our view of events, of finding ways to express what we feel about what we see; CCTV seldom provides great news images.  The power and fascination of our medium is very much tied up in the relationship between reality and the image and also between our experience and how we relate it in images. Susan Sontag, quoted at the end of the audio clip, really oversimplifies to the point of irrelevance. (But that’s ‘On Photography‘ for you.)

But images, particularly ones as iconic as ‘Falling Soldier’ have their own lives.  Although when made it was news, it soon became something else, a symbol, detached from the actual events (whatever they were) of its creation.

So while it was of vital import at the time the picture was made – and the public was almost certainly mislead at least to some extent – it is now frankly of academic interest.  And of course this is a book by an academic, if one that seems rather more  interesting than most such productions.

Your Best Shot

Thanks to Jim Casper of Lensculture for pointing me (via Twitter)  towards the Guardian Series My Best Shot, which I hadn’t looked at since November.  It’s a series that is interesting for both the selection of image and also what the photographers have to say about them – and sometimes that’s very little.  And among some splendid work there are also some that make me think “well if that’s your best I’d hate to see the worst” and others where I think “you CANNOT be serious!” and think of many many more they have taken that are so much better.

But then if anyone asked me what my best picture was, I’d probably be stuck for an answer.  And whatever I said this week, probably by next week I would have changed my mind.  And I rather hope I still have my best picture to look forward to.

Of course some of those selections are little more than a marketing exercise for the photographer’s next book or show and I very seriously doubt if the photographer felt they were their “best shot.” And perhaps such a thing doesn’t really exist in any case, though their have been a few photographers perhaps unfortunate enough to be known only for one single image – though sometimes so iconic that it must be in its way satisfying.

But mostly the pictures chosen – even if sometimes rather randomly are interesting, and so are some of the stories and the details the photographers give about themselves. So if like me, you’d forgotten about it, why not take a look. And if you come across something there you think is ridiculous – or particularly interesting –  do share it with others in a comment.