OP
OP
Well folks, I got around to writing my personal view on the matters. Prepare for some rambling.
With regards to the comments about 'typical' german/american/japanese photography, I've been doing some thinking and some reading (Walter Benjamin) in order to come with some sort of explanation of my use of the word 'typically german'.
1. When I say I find some photography 'typically' german or american or japanese, I mean in no way to suggest that all photography made by germans exhibits the same kind of typology. Far from it. I use the word as a kind of practical classification tool. When I see certain photographs, most of the times I can tell you whether they're made by a German, an American or a Japanese. This does not exclude the possibillity that there are photographs made by Germans that have a completely different look, or that there are photographs that have the 'typical German' look but are made by, say, a Vietnamese.
When I say 'typically XXX', I mean it exhibits a kind of style that I tend to encounter predominantly in this or that group of people born and raised in a specific country or region and culture. It is a nearly botanical use of the term, come to think of it. It's like saying that a plant species is predominantly or typically found on this soil and climate, not excluding it may be found elsewhere and that other plant species may be found alongside it on the same soil and climate.
Maybe I should extend my use of the word 'german' in that it can also include to denote work by people from the same "cultural space" (Kulturraum), but who happen to live in Austria or Switzerland. (I am in no way wanting to offend any Austrians or Swiss by this use of the word, it's just that I'm still feeling my way around in this field and am at a loss for the right words - this is all experimental, remember?).
2. In Walter Benjamin I found a paragraph where he speaks of the 'organisation of ones senses' (Sinneswahrnehmung). What a human being percieves through his senses is not only determined by nature, but also by history. The way our perception is organized may differ widely from one place in time (or space) to another. Easy example: a Greek statue of a god seen through the eyes of an ancient Greek is something completely different from the Greek statue as seen in the Victoria and Albert museum, - or as a replica in someone's garden. And it's not only the seeing that changes, all our senses are involved: sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch.
To Benjamin this 'organisation of the senses' is a collective thing. I take him to mean that an individual growing up in a certain community almost involuntarily acquires this way of perceiving and being in the world. (I'm not saying it's impossible for an individual to develop a way of seeing that differs from this).
I notice I find it hard to communicate the real world ramifications of this distinction that some may take as a cliche one. How to make it more real felt? As a Dutch person I encounter the world in a way that is very different from an American. I notice things differently and I notice different things. In every aspect of my being I am shaped by the landscape that surrounds me, the style of building, the way the light falls, the types of clouds typical to a coastal region, the horizon, the animals and plants that populate the environment, the traditions and history of my people, the way they think how a building should be related to its location, etc. etc. (In the German I would use the word 'Prägung' in this context, but I am at a loss how to translate it.)
Okay, good for you, you may say, but what does this have to do with german or american photography?
When I encounter a photo that I would identify as 'typically german', it means that to me this photo testifies of the culturally determined perception that belongs to an individual having grown up in a certain society/community. It bears the stamp of what it means to belong to this culture. Somehow I am aware of a distinction between the way the world appears to a Ggerman or to an American. In German architectural photography specifically, I notice a special awareness of space and light that I don't find (often) in American photography. When I put Shores work next to Kays, I see the similarities in motive, but the way Kay photographs a street corner is undoubtedly 'German' to me, as much as Shores is truly American. Kay is aware of buildings and their mass and volume in a way that I identify as German. Perhaps Kay himself is not even aware of that, as much as I am not aware of the extent to which I can be said to be 'typically Dutch'. (A case of not being able to jump over ones shadow.)
What's more, for me it's not even important to know whether or not Kay feels influenced by the Bechers school, since that which is typically German, is not something invented by the Bechers. The Bechers work is one instance of what it's like to photograph as a German. Even if there never would have been any Bechers, I could still identify Kays work as 'German'.
I don't know if my ramblings make any sense and I fear to have lost most readers halfway through the post, but I notice that it is indeed very hard to put into simple words what is so clear to me on a visual level. If it would be possible to communicate through any other means, believe me I would. I feel in the same position as renaissance sailors, coming back from journeys where they'd seen some kind of unknown animal or monster, and, having had no camera to capture it on film, had to rely on their more or less poorly developed verbal capacities to describe what they'd seen with their eyes. As much as them, I have no high expectancy of being believed. I must learn to live with it, either that or work on my literary technique.
With regards to the comments about 'typical' german/american/japanese photography, I've been doing some thinking and some reading (Walter Benjamin) in order to come with some sort of explanation of my use of the word 'typically german'.
1. When I say I find some photography 'typically' german or american or japanese, I mean in no way to suggest that all photography made by germans exhibits the same kind of typology. Far from it. I use the word as a kind of practical classification tool. When I see certain photographs, most of the times I can tell you whether they're made by a German, an American or a Japanese. This does not exclude the possibillity that there are photographs made by Germans that have a completely different look, or that there are photographs that have the 'typical German' look but are made by, say, a Vietnamese.
When I say 'typically XXX', I mean it exhibits a kind of style that I tend to encounter predominantly in this or that group of people born and raised in a specific country or region and culture. It is a nearly botanical use of the term, come to think of it. It's like saying that a plant species is predominantly or typically found on this soil and climate, not excluding it may be found elsewhere and that other plant species may be found alongside it on the same soil and climate.
Maybe I should extend my use of the word 'german' in that it can also include to denote work by people from the same "cultural space" (Kulturraum), but who happen to live in Austria or Switzerland. (I am in no way wanting to offend any Austrians or Swiss by this use of the word, it's just that I'm still feeling my way around in this field and am at a loss for the right words - this is all experimental, remember?).
2. In Walter Benjamin I found a paragraph where he speaks of the 'organisation of ones senses' (Sinneswahrnehmung). What a human being percieves through his senses is not only determined by nature, but also by history. The way our perception is organized may differ widely from one place in time (or space) to another. Easy example: a Greek statue of a god seen through the eyes of an ancient Greek is something completely different from the Greek statue as seen in the Victoria and Albert museum, - or as a replica in someone's garden. And it's not only the seeing that changes, all our senses are involved: sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch.
To Benjamin this 'organisation of the senses' is a collective thing. I take him to mean that an individual growing up in a certain community almost involuntarily acquires this way of perceiving and being in the world. (I'm not saying it's impossible for an individual to develop a way of seeing that differs from this).
I notice I find it hard to communicate the real world ramifications of this distinction that some may take as a cliche one. How to make it more real felt? As a Dutch person I encounter the world in a way that is very different from an American. I notice things differently and I notice different things. In every aspect of my being I am shaped by the landscape that surrounds me, the style of building, the way the light falls, the types of clouds typical to a coastal region, the horizon, the animals and plants that populate the environment, the traditions and history of my people, the way they think how a building should be related to its location, etc. etc. (In the German I would use the word 'Prägung' in this context, but I am at a loss how to translate it.)
Okay, good for you, you may say, but what does this have to do with german or american photography?
When I encounter a photo that I would identify as 'typically german', it means that to me this photo testifies of the culturally determined perception that belongs to an individual having grown up in a certain society/community. It bears the stamp of what it means to belong to this culture. Somehow I am aware of a distinction between the way the world appears to a Ggerman or to an American. In German architectural photography specifically, I notice a special awareness of space and light that I don't find (often) in American photography. When I put Shores work next to Kays, I see the similarities in motive, but the way Kay photographs a street corner is undoubtedly 'German' to me, as much as Shores is truly American. Kay is aware of buildings and their mass and volume in a way that I identify as German. Perhaps Kay himself is not even aware of that, as much as I am not aware of the extent to which I can be said to be 'typically Dutch'. (A case of not being able to jump over ones shadow.)
What's more, for me it's not even important to know whether or not Kay feels influenced by the Bechers school, since that which is typically German, is not something invented by the Bechers. The Bechers work is one instance of what it's like to photograph as a German. Even if there never would have been any Bechers, I could still identify Kays work as 'German'.
I don't know if my ramblings make any sense and I fear to have lost most readers halfway through the post, but I notice that it is indeed very hard to put into simple words what is so clear to me on a visual level. If it would be possible to communicate through any other means, believe me I would. I feel in the same position as renaissance sailors, coming back from journeys where they'd seen some kind of unknown animal or monster, and, having had no camera to capture it on film, had to rely on their more or less poorly developed verbal capacities to describe what they'd seen with their eyes. As much as them, I have no high expectancy of being believed. I must learn to live with it, either that or work on my literary technique.
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