Hilla and Bernd Becher :

[Alex Benjamin]

They are also perfect examples of the point that, for many artists, one ought to approach and consider their body of work, rather than individual works in isolation.

This is exactly what the lesson this exhibition, by its sheer magnitude, brings. Looking at print after print after print after print, you stop asking questions about whether it's art or not, idea or not, what the concept is, what it means, what they meant or intended, etc. It just starts making sense, acquires a strange kind of coherence, and for a while, while you're contemplating print after print after print, such questions become irrelevant, and unexpected ones pop up.

What I can only call the transcendance of the experience of viewing this is partly due to the fact that everything looks extremely real and yet slightly unreal, and that one cannot quite figure out why there is that ambiguity between these two states. Part of it is because almost all structures are photographed the exact same way—just about the same amount of blank, neutral space on the top, left and right side between the building and the frame. They are totally isolated, and the effect is that while the building's function is clear, it is totally deprived of context.

Add to that the total absence of any human presence in pictures of buildings, like factories, that are totally deprived of meaning without human presence. The total absence of human presence doesn't really become oppressive after a while. It's weirder than that. You get the feeling, print after print after print after print, that once we all disappear—if we haven't yet, it's not clear looking at the photos—these structures would lose their human-related function and start to acquire a meaning of their own—which, of course, you question but cannot figure out.

Moreover, they are photographed with a large format camera with a raised front standard. This makes all vertical lines parallel, and while this makes sense aesthetically, takes a while to figure out that it also gives the impression that there is something slightly out of phase in your viewing, this because this is not how you actually would see such huge and tall structures in real life, if you were in front of them.

As Spock would say: "fascinating".

 

[Pieter12]

You will notice that almost all of the Bechers' work is displayed in tight grids, usually very specific to the subject and number of prints. Because they are meant to be seen as groups, and lose much of their impact as singles. There are a number of photographers who come to mind whose work needs to be seen and appreciated as a body of work and it suffers when only a print or two is all you see in a group show.

 

[warden]

Went on Wednesday. One of the most extraordinary photo exhibition I've ever seen, with the Cartier-Bresson retrospective at the MoMA a few years back.

I'm glad you got there! I'm going to try to see it too.

 

[miha]

This is exactly what the lesson this exhibition, by its sheer magnitude, brings. Looking at print after print after print after print, you stop asking questions about whether it's art or not, idea or not, what the concept is, what it means, what they meant or intended, etc. It just starts making sense, acquires a strange kind of coherence, and for a while, while you're contemplating print after print after print, such questions become irrelevant, and unexpected ones pop up.

What I can only call the transcendance of the experience of viewing this is partly due to the fact that everything looks extremely real and yet slightly unreal, and that one cannot quite figure out why there is that ambiguity between these two states. Part of it is because almost all structures are photographed the exact same way—just about the same amount of blank, neutral space on the top, left and right side between the building and the frame. They are totally isolated, and the effect is that while the building's function is clear, it is totally deprived of context.

Add to that the total absence of any human presence in pictures of buildings, like factories, that are totally deprived of meaning without human presence. The total absence of human presence doesn't really become oppressive after a while. It's weirder than that. You get the feeling, print after print after print after print, that once we all disappear—if we haven't yet, it's not clear looking at the photos—these structures would lose their human-related function and start to acquire a meaning of their own—which, of course, you question but cannot figure out.

Moreover, they are photographed with a large format camera with a raised front standard. This makes all vertical lines parallel, and while this makes sense aesthetically, takes a while to figure out that it also gives the impression that there is something slightly out of phase in your viewing, this because this is not how you actually would see such huge and tall structures in real life, if you were in front of them.

As Spock would say: "fascinating".

Thanks for this post.

 

[jtk]

This thread expresses and explores exactly what I hope for in Photrio.

Thank you especially to Alex Benjamin

Not to get into the "is photography art" debate again, but how does a painting, lithograph or sculpture (citing just some plastic arts) differ from your statement about a photographic print?

They don't differ at all.

Nor does "photography" necessarily differ from graphic or object design...or the designed thing itself...which in turn might circle back to Bauhaus. That's how this works for me.

 

[Vaughn]

...also gives the impression that there is something slightly out of phase in your viewing, this because this is not how you actually would see such huge and tall structures in real life, if you were in front of them.

As Spock would say: "fascinating".

All well said.
Yes, the objects loom over the viewer in an unnatural, but photographically acceptable way.

 

[Sirius Glass]

This is exactly what the lesson this exhibition, by its sheer magnitude, brings. Looking at print after print after print after print, you stop asking questions about whether it's art or not, idea or not, what the concept is, what it means, what they meant or intended, etc. It just starts making sense, acquires a strange kind of coherence, and for a while, while you're contemplating print after print after print, such questions become irrelevant, and unexpected ones pop up.

What I can only call the transcendance of the experience of viewing this is partly due to the fact that everything looks extremely real and yet slightly unreal, and that one cannot quite figure out why there is that ambiguity between these two states. Part of it is because almost all structures are photographed the exact same way—just about the same amount of blank, neutral space on the top, left and right side between the building and the frame. They are totally isolated, and the effect is that while the building's function is clear, it is totally deprived of context.

Add to that the total absence of any human presence in pictures of buildings, like factories, that are totally deprived of meaning without human presence. The total absence of human presence doesn't really become oppressive after a while. It's weirder than that. You get the feeling, print after print after print after print, that once we all disappear—if we haven't yet, it's not clear looking at the photos—these structures would lose their human-related function and start to acquire a meaning of their own—which, of course, you question but cannot figure out.

Moreover, they are photographed with a large format camera with a raised front standard. This makes all vertical lines parallel, and while this makes sense aesthetically, takes a while to figure out that it also gives the impression that there is something slightly out of phase in your viewing, this because this is not how you actually would see such huge and tall structures in real life, if you were in front of them.

As Spock would say: "fascinating".

Just from what I saw via this thread I saw that they would have the subjects fill the frames to the same constraints so that each subject was the same size as related subjects. Consistent and easily comparable.

 

[jtk]

Just from what I saw via this thread I saw that they would have the subjects fill the frames to the same constraints so that each subject was the same size as related subjects. Consistent and easily comparable.

That ignores the life's work of the artists, which wasn't "each subject" or "same" or "easily comparable" ...as seen by exactly one person who has repeatedly disparaged the respect being given by the most important of galleries, as well as by other posters here, to the artists.

"From what I saw" appears to be akin to someone's shoe size.

 

[Sirius Glass]

That ignores the life's work of the artists, which wasn't "each subject" or "same" or "easily comparable" ...as seen by exactly one person who has repeatedly disparaged the respect being given by the most important of galleries, as well as by other posters here, to the artists.

"From what I saw" appears to be akin to someone's shoe size.

That is not a sign of disrespect at all. It shows that they used a scientific approach that allows one to compare similar objects at roughly the same magnification. Many people would not think to do that. Try jumping to conclusions and going with your knee jerk reactions, please. On the technical level your posts are interesting and useful.

 

[jtk]

fwiw I think reducing the life work of that couple to crude "analysis" by someone who brags that he has neither seen the work itself NOR even visited the wonderful websites and videos that have been so generously provided by people who have actually seen and responded to the work speaks volumes.

 

[Alex Benjamin]

It shows that they used a scientific approach that allows one to compare similar objects at roughly the same magnification.

The use of the word "scientific" is quite apt here, as there is something of that in their approach. They said that one of their inspiration for it was August Sander, and it took me a while to understand what they meant about that. The mistake would be to think that they are anthropomorphizing these structures, but that's not at all the case.

I think, as I mentioned before, that it's related to context, function and meaning. What's fascinating about Sander is that he is—in intent, scientifically—trying to define/catalog people both through their function and by how they look—i.e., how they look photographed—, but he is doing so by putting them, at least in many cases, out of a context that would help in the definition. So you've got "The Pianist" without any piano in sight (and you can't tell that the book he is holding might be a score), "The Painter" just standing on the middle of the sidewalk, etc. No clue to who they are other than the two things he give you: what you see and what they do. So what happens is that he forces you to look, and start asking yourself questions about what you see (Is their meaningfulness what they do? Is it how they look? How is it related to what I see?, etc.).

The Becher's work has the same effect and impact. There is no context—a water tower in Pennsylvania might as well be in the UK or Germany, you just can't tell—and although you know the function, it is never shown—never shown while working, and there is no people anywhere that would lead your imagination to see them as operators. So, again, you're just left with that: looking, deeply, and wondering.

So yeah, there is something scientific about their approach; but yours, in front of these works, ends up being metaphysical.

It's a lot of fun.

 

[jtk]

It's a mistake to suggest that Sander, who was defacto contributing to bogus physical anthropological theory (fundamental Nazi theory) had in some way inspired the Bechers.

We are of course "left wondering." That is one of the most fundamental pleasures of "art".

Some art classes require "artists statements" to save students and the rest of us from the questions that are fundamental to non-decorative stuff. Wall hangers are required. "What did this photograph "mean?"

If we are required to marvel at Ansel technique are we not thereby deprived of opportunity to appreciate something important?

 

[Don_ih]

They seem to be modelled after technical drawing. Thus the parallel lines. Thus the isolation. Thus the low contrast. These photos come as close as possible to being "architectural renderings" without being actual draughts.

I don't see much need for delving into obscure or abstract meaning. They are worthwhile in their own right.

 

[Alex Benjamin]

I don't see much need for delving into obscure or abstract meaning.

Well, delving into meaning will always be abstract, and in order to bring meaning into light you have to accept the fact that part of it is hidden in obscurity.

But of course the truth of it is that there's never any need to think about anything. That's what makes it essential.

 

[Sirius Glass]

From the structural and architectural view the scientific and methodical formulation of the subject framing it is easier to compare the structural approach of different designs to the same set of problems and forces.

 

[Arthurwg]

They seem to be modelled after technical drawing. Thus the parallel lines. Thus the isolation. Thus the low contrast. These photos come as close as possible to being "architectural renderings" without being actual draughts.

This makes sense, considering Bernd's background in architectural drawing.

 

[Vaughn]

And a nice circle around considering cyanotype was invented to copy architectural notes.

Some of us are fine looking out across the ocean, some of us spend their time actively in the surf zone, and others dive deep and explore. The question would be, can a photograph (or in this case a group of photographs) hold up to all three levels of viewing? Does this become a measure of value, of quality? Kinkade painted and pleased the surface-lookers, but bombed with the seekers of meaning.

 

[Alex Benjamin]

Does this become a measure of value, of quality?

I don't think it does. As Don says, a good work will be worthwhile in its own right, but that doesn't prevent it from acquiring meaning—if not layers of meaning—beyond its surface.

 

[Don_ih]

Well, delving into meaning will always be abstract, and in order to bring meaning into light you have to accept the fact that part of it is hidden in obscurity.

No, that's quite obviously not true. Most things that are meaningful are so in a rather plain, straightforward way.

People tend to believe that more abstract or obscure "meaning" is more sophisticated and thereby more valuable - this is constantly defended as the meaning of art (and identifies such as art). But the most meaningful things are mundane. Language is main vehicle for meaning.

A photo doesn't have to be anything other than what it is to be worthwhile. There is no reason to demand it be abstractly or obscurely meaningful. It doesn't need it.

Of course, if you seek to interpret a body of work (say a group of photos), you can abstract from the grouping a theme or guiding idea - something you can glean through observing similarities of apparent concern within a group that are not obvious within a single member. You can even reference what is known about the person who did the work, what he or she said or is known to be interested in. You can reference other groups of work done by the same person or other work done by other people known to be influential or seen as similar in some way. All of this can further fertilize your ground of meaning, so you can speak more fully and certainly about the work in question. The important part of all that, though, is to avoid invention and to be careful that your conclusions have more to do with the work than everything that could be said to influence it. It's also helpful, if you are interested in interpreting the meaning of a work, to actually say something meaningful rather than simply hinting at a level of abstraction that defies expression.

That doesn't mean I disagree with your interpretation up above. I especially liked "What I can only call the transcendance of the experience of viewing this is partly due to the fact that everything looks extremely real and yet slightly unreal, and that one cannot quite figure out why there is that ambiguity between these two states." because it aptly describes the projected reality these photos seem to be within your experience without ceasing to talk about the photos themselves.

My initial comment was in reference to "There is no context—a water tower in Pennsylvania might as well be in the UK or Germany, you just can't tell—and although you know the function, it is never shown—never shown while working, and there is no people anywhere that would lead your imagination to see them as operators." which seemed to me to start to sail away from the photos themselves and more toward a fictional world which these photos represent.

Of course, interpretation is fictionalization. It builds a cohesive world out of what might as well be received, disparate elements.

Anyway....

 

[jtk]

I'm amused by Don Heisz's " fictional world which these photos represent." A reasonable and happy thing to say...and it begs all sorts of questions.

The prints are not mere "photos" ....they don't do any job individually...they are elements of the lifelong project of two people.

Second, photos do not "represent" anything (not necessarily anyway). As prints these examples exist fully on the wall (and far less so online or in books).

Importantly, as Don said, "language is the main vehicle for meaning." And even Hilla has not attempted to apply meaning to the prints.

Don's use of "fictionalization" is also amusing...happily so...because literary fiction (such as James Joyce's "Ulysses"), like these prints, exists on its own, not attempting to represent anything "real." However, Joyce enthusiasts like myself may also be aware that virtually all of the dozens of characters in "Ulysses" reportedly do seem to "represent" real Dubliners.

Additionally (re comments by others): These prints are not significant as technical accomplishments. I'm certain that at these relatively modest sizes my APS-C cameras and inkjet prints can easily rival the detail and modest photoshopping can easily and accurately accomplish the view camera perspective control, not to mention the overcast tonality the couple found in "reality.'

Bernd wasn't the photographer.... Hilla and Bern did this work together, according to their mutual plan, and Hilla, especially, was not a mere draftsperson.

 

[Alex Benjamin]

A photo doesn't have to be anything other than what it is to be worthwhile. There is no reason to demand it be abstractly or obscurely meaningful. It doesn't need it.

Don, we're in complete agreement. It doesn't need it. That doesn't meant it doesn't have it, that it can't acquire it, or that its meaning can't change through time.

You don't have to see description/depiction of loneliness and solitude in Edward Hopper's paintings. It doesn't need it. You can just see color and light and places and landscape with people in it, and the works are so beautiful that your enjoyment of them isn't at all insufficient but quite fulfilling. But it doesn't mean that the description/depiction of loneliness and solitude isn't there and might be what attracts you so powerfully, and maybe unconsciously, to the works.

I've been "aesthetically raised", so to speak, through Umberto Eco, for which the "meaning" (for lack of a better word) of a work is questioned through the dialogue between the author's intent (what he wanted to do or say), the work's intent (what it is, what it shows, how it does it) and the reader/listener/viewer's intent (what you or I or anybody at a certain time and place brings to it).

So the work's intent—the "being nothing other than what it is"—is most important, as you point out, but only part of the whole. When I try to understand it, I bring my own perception to it, not to interpret what is not there but to confront that perception with what I see (the work) and what I know of the Becher's intent in creating these works. All this hoping that some "truth" (again, for lack of a better word) will come out of this dialogue between me, it and them. Hoping also that in the process I'll learn something about the art (the work or the art form itself), the artists and about myself (most noticeably if my perceptions turn out to be in dissonance with the rest).

As opposed to you, I don't find any of this "obscure". On the opposite. The hope is indeed to bring something to light about the work—and it's not by accident that the words "illuminating" and "illumination" are regularly used in conjunction with "meaning" and "understanding."

 

[jtk]

We've touched on two authors of fictional literature here (Umberto Eco, who I've not read, and James Joyce, who I've read quite a lot).

Since we're engaged in interpretation, I'll add something many find important, stimulating, and especially relevant, Susan Sontag's "against interpretation". As many know, Sontag was married to a famous professional photographer, Annie Leibovitz.

Against Interpretation

 

[Sirius Glass]

There is a danger in reading in too much meaning into a photograph or a collection of photographs. That danger including projecting ones own experiences and prejudices.

Hilla and Bernd Beacher produced a body of work of architectural pieces that were disappearing. They used a methodical systematic approach to photograph each one in a manner that allows one to view it as art, a design study or structural study. The work stands on its own and is not a metaphor for something it was never meant to be. They achieved what they set out to do as a lifetime work which they completed. View it for what it was meant to be, not for what one would have liked it to be or how one would like to inject into it.

 

[Pieter12]

There is a danger in reading in too much meaning into a photograph or a collection of photographs. That danger including projecting ones own experiences and prejudices.

Hilla and Bernd Beacher produced a body of work of architectural pieces that were disappearing. They used a methodical systematic approach to photograph each one in a manner that allows one to view it as art, a design study or structural study. The work stands on its own and is not a metaphor for something it was never meant to be. They achieved what they set out to do as a lifetime work which they completed. View it for what it was meant to be, not for what one would have liked it to be or how one would like to inject into it.

But that is one of the wonders things about art in general...the ability to elicit different emotions and interpretations from different people. I would even posit that one should start the study of art with the abstract expressionists, removing obvious subject matter from the equations and allowing composition, color, texture to dominate.

 

[Arthurwg]

Since we're engaged in interpretation, I'll add something many find important, stimulating, and especially relevant, Susan Sontag's "against interpretation". As many know, Sontag was married to a famous professional photographer, Annie Leibovitz.

I did read this many years ago in collage. Took it very seriously and still do.