The Brilliant Lie

I recently entered a contest in the painting category by accident (thanks for the heads up Amy) which reminded me of this series I made a while back. Having just finished working in New Orleans for a year and unsure of where I was going next, what I was doing and putting pressure on myself to keep the ball rolling after a marathon year that left me emotionally and physically exhausted, I was kinda sick of photography and needed a break. I was both frustrated and amazed by what a photograph could do, how photography and the image are used, what a photograph shows us and how the composition in that box has the ability to interact with its viewer. I made these images when I was mad at photography and didn't want to take pictures, but I forced myself out the door anyway and made myself expose film. Under the dark cloth I found a way to disconnect myself from my subject and found a way to create a composition that could only be seen on the ground glass. A reminder that the lens is an abstraction and all light that passes thru that glass onto a 4x5 rectangle is abstracted. There is no truth in photography, the photograph is a brilliant lie.

Upon writing this I am reminded of a Phil Perkis story,

"Some years back I did a small assignment using Kodachrome film, which at the time was the most detailed, saturated color film available. When I got the slides from the lab, I needed a place to project them. On a whim, I taped a piece of white paper to the front of the television set and used that as a screen. After looking at the slides and editing them, I took down the paper. Later that day, I turned on the television. I had a strange feeling. I put the white paper back and projected the slides again. Then I watched television again.