The Nostalgia of Still Life Images

picture of old buckets from Geo Washington's Distillery

Water from the Well

 

I’ve talked about the power of nostalgic images before and it probably won’t be the last time I mention it. Experiencing nostalgia is a huge part of being human, and it can be a common emotion that art can evoke in us. 

Unlike timeless landscapes and nature pictures, still life images can be highly nostalgic. It doesn’t really matter whether it’s a still life painting or a still life photograph; certain subjects can be strong reminders of something important in our past. A picture of a bouquet of flowers might remind us of something our mothers cared for, or a setting of tools might remind us of our granddad’s workbench, or an image of a desk and chair may remind us of our mother’s daily tasks. The list of nostalgic visual triggers is endless, and no matter how many times we see such images, the feelings of nostalgia never fade. 

At 66 years old I’m a member of the last generation who lived through times of wooden buckets with rope handles. Now days, like most things, buckets are plastic, and have plastic or wire handles.  In fact, it seems most objects today are plastic. Plastic houses. Plastic cars. And, therefore, plastic landfills (don’t get me started.).

Remember that scene from the 1967 film “The Graduate” when young Braddock was advised to “go into plastics..it’s the wave of the future”?  Well, it wasn’t far from the truth, was it? 

Common to my generation is the longing for everyday objects made from wood, or metal, or rock. So when we are reminded of those times, it can be quite nostalgic. (If you’re not of my generation, then there are other kinds of objects that affect you just as much; objects that you grew up with and long for today.) 

For instance, as a young boy visiting my Grandpa Elmer’s place, I can recall like it was yesterday being told to go draw water from the well ‘out back’ and bring it back to the house. Grandpa’s well was the type with a large wooden bucket you dropped into a deep hole in the ground and then used a big crank and thick rope to bring it back up. That chore was no small feat for a scrawny kid like I was. But I don’t recall ever thinking it was work; it was more like I was doing something important for my Grandpa. And to this day I can still smell the sweetness of that water.

I’m drawn to nostalgic subjects that remind me of the good old days. “Water from the Well”  is a simple setting of old oaken buckets that reminds me of good times I spent at Grandpa’s house long ago, and that makes my heart smile, every time.  

What does it remind you of? I’d love to hear your story.

You can find more of my still life images here

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About chiaroscuro- clarity with mystery

example of expressing chiaroscuro in photography
Foot of the Fall

When done well, artfully expressing chiaroscuro gives the eyes lots to see in both the brightest parts of the image as well as in the darkest. The sense of depth can be profoundly interesting in such images. I like to say “Light without shadows is nothing, because shadows are where the secrets hide.”  I enjoy getting lost in the shadows. Do you? 

Now, let’s talk about chiaroscuro

You might want to know first that Wiki says about chiaroscuro  “..in art, is the use of strong contrasts between light and dark, usually bold contrasts affecting a whole composition.”  The images below are classical chiaroscuro
  Raphael: The Grand Duke's Madonna  Chiaroscuro is an old fashion style of art, dating from the 1700s masters of portrait, still life, and genre painters like Caravaggio and Rembrandt. But it’s popularity has never gone away. Thomas Cole, Thomas Moran, and Albert Bierstadt, painters from the Hudson Valley School (1800s) extended the chiaroscuro style to landscapes.  There are many contemporary painters and photographers who continue to make images in the chiaroscuro style, including me.

Thomas Cole (1801-1848) Landscape Composition: Saint John in the Wilderness Oil on canvas 1827 Sado'nun Yeri: Peder Mork Monsted - Albert Bierstadt - Daniel Ridgeway Knight Solitude by Thomas Moran (1897), Hudson River School

The only reason I’m even talking about chiaroscuro is because I absolutely love this style of imagery, and I think you probably do too since you’re reading this newsletter. After all, the strong use of shadows and light is a consistent feature in my own photographs, as in “Foot of the Fall” above. 

In my implementation of chiaroscuro, I like to follow what I see in the old masters’ paintings. There’s always lots of delicate highlights, which are made more compelling by lots of delicate, revealing shadows. Note I didn’t say featureless whites and sooty, blank blacks. To me,  featuring huge paper white spaces or pure black spaces is the farthest thing from true chiaroscuro.

When done well in photography, chiaroscuro should almost seem like the highlights are dancing with the shadows. One moves into the space of the other without stepping on toes or losing the natural rhythm. Neither is dominant; they are in perfect balance. And very difficult to achieve, even when I find natural compositions that might lend themselves to this treatment. 

But I’ll keep looking for those that do. 

Do you like this style of imagery? Do your eyes lock to one end of the light range over the other (highlights or shadows)? Or do they flick back and forth in search of secrets? 

Until next time,

Jim

Picture of J. Riley StewartDid you enjoy this edition of Friday Foto? Feel free to share this article with someone you think might also enjoy it, and invite them to subscribe to “Under the Darkcloth.”  And please leave me a comment or ask a question by replying to this email. 

Copyright J. Riley Stewart, 2018, all rights reserved.

Artful Images and the Question of context

abstract photograph of a stone fence as example of context matters
“Stones of Any Shape”

The first question we ask of an image is about context.

Have you ever wondered why you are drawn to certain images? I mean images you can’t take your eyes off of. Images that literally drag you in and stimulate you to recall precious stories from your own memory. The short answer is context, because in imagery, context matters. 

The use of context in artful imagery is a huge factor in whether you may actually appreciate a given image (or not). Understanding this one aspect of imagery could lead you to collect art that you will love forever. It may also keep you from buying something that winds up in the attic after a few short years (…&*#@% !…). 

The best way to explain why context is so important is to know that context is tightly linked to our own personal memories. Without a memory (or recognition) of a certain subject, your brain decides that it’s abstract and immediately switches to a more complex analytical pathway to make any sense of it.

The more difficult the recognition, the more the brain has to analyze and conceptualize. It can be quite intimidating while the brain interprets the puzzle.  And an image with no context is a puzzle, for sure.

 

For example, if you’ve never seen a fishing fly, you have no way to describe this “thing.”  That tuft of feathers on a curvy thingy may be quite confusing to you. But show you that same fly in the mouth of a fish, and it becomes more clear what it is and what it’s supposed to do. 

 

You now have the context necessary to discern the purpose of the fly, and your brain doesn’t have to analyze it as much. (You now know what my favorite hobby is!)

Even though confused by abstractions, our brains are extremely capable of conceptualizing and letting us imagine what that abstraction could be. In fact, some of us love puzzles. We prefer abstract art forms and shapes precisely because it stimulates our brains to conceptualize. It can be exciting to imagine something in a highly abstract painting or photograph that isn’t really there. 

I recently had an amusing discussion with a gallery visitor about what she saw in a highly abstract painting hanging on the wall. She swore she saw a horse; pointing out its nose, and mane, and back.  Of course, I didn’t see her horse, no matter how hard I tried. Her brain was working hard to make something appear out of an abstraction that she could recognize, and that was great fun for her!

Personally, I like some context in the images I make, such as a log cabin in the woods, or a beautiful sunrise over a quiet river, or even a landscape vista during the peak of Autumn.  These are subjects that push the brain to recall peaceful, nostalgic feelings and conjure stories from my own memory (and yours). I think realistic, context-rich art pulls on the heart while abstract art pulls on the brain. And I’d rather have my images pull on the heart.

The featured image “Stones of Any Shape” is a slight departure from my normal style because of its abstraction. I’m using it here as an example of how context matters. There’s not much context here, is there? Just stones arranged in an interesting pattern. The image says nothing about how, where, or why the stones are arranged this way. Is it a road or walkway? A fence? A wall? How large are the stones? What color are they?

Don’t worry, though. Your brain  will conceptualize whatever you want to see. And that’s completely okay.

Is it necessary to know those things to enjoy the image? Usually not. You can love a picture without context, it just means your brain has to pre-process it somehow before getting to the “love” part.  The other side of this pre-processing situation can also lead to rejection if the context can’t be imagined readily. I have another article you may be interested in that explains the role of mystery in images to either compel a sense of “boring,” “interesting,” or “bizarre”… check it out here.

And when context doesn’t provide the answers we want, we can always let our brains conceptualize the answers that makes the most sense to us, and just have fun with it.

As you look at images online or in a gallery, ask yourself about their context. Is the context obvious or elusive? Starting with that one simple question can often lead to many more questions, and in the process you may learn something about yourself and strengthen your appreciation of art. 

If you’d like to read more about how our brains interpret visual abstractions, I’d recommend this article from Salon. 

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I first published this article in my newsletter “Under the Darkcloth” on May 26, 2017. To get these articles sent to you personally, just subscribe HERE

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Until next week, please share this email with others who you think might enjoy it.
J.

Picture of J. Riley Stewart in the field