Landscape Into Art
One of my very favorite things in the world, right up there with taking pictures, is looking at them. I like to look at pictures online, in galleries and museums, and especially, in photography books. I have lots and lots of photography books, and I always have at least one or two on loan from the library. I would wager that I have gotten more of an education from the photography section in the Brooklyn College Library than all of the classes I’ve taken combined.
It is often said that photographers would be helped by looking at other kinds of art as well, and I believe that is true. I am a fan of painting, sculpture, cinema, and many other kinds of artistic expression. But I turn to photographers again and again as source for inspiration.
I am making a conscious effort to study other methods of picture making with the goal of broadening my perspective. The use of the landscape as a subject in art (and not just as a backdrop) is not as ancient as I had imagined, and there are several key moments in art history worth noting on this topic. Preeminent in my research has been Paul Cézanne, whose work was the foundation for a crucial development in landscape painting and the movement toward modernism in art in general. His landscapes are masterpieces both as examinations of the physical world and as objects themselves. This is the kind of art that I aspire to create.
I recently came across a book called Cézanne: Landscape into Art that has added fuel to this interest. Painter, photographer, and scholar Pavel Machotka has visited the sites of many of Cézanne’s most famous paintings, taken photographs of the scenes, and then used both to help us understand Cézanne’s work.
Le Pont de Maincy, 1879, Paul Cezanne
Le Pont de Maincy, Photograph by Pavel Machotka
This proves to be an excellent way to look closely at Cézanne’s paintings; by comparing and contrasting the photographic evidence with the paintings, you begin to get a feel for how Cézanne chose his motifs, how faithful the paintings remain to the original scene, and the kinds of liberties he took for the sake of coherence and composition. Machotka’s clear writing and insight into composition and technique are also helpful in determining what is new and interesting about Cézanne’s paintings that is not found in the work of his predecessors and contemporaries.
I think these studies could have a significant impact on my approach to photography. After all, photography is more about seeing than it is about clicking, and Cézanne had one of the most distinctive and powerful visions in the history of art. This closer look at his work has inspired me to go out and apply the lessons I have learned.
January 29, 2009