In the Heart of Cuba

Last autumn the photographer Sven Creutzmann—my good friend and colleague—launched his beautiful book about Havana. It’s a collaboration between him and the writer Bert Hoffmann. Across 320 pages, the two of them share a personal encounter and deep understanding of the Cuban capital, this fascinating city that is beauty and the beast, incarnated.

The book is published in German. It’s called Havanna – Im Herzen Kubas, which translates into Havana—in the Heart of Cuba. The German text may be a disadvantage for most readers of this blog. Nevertheless, Sven’s photos would still make it a book at which anyone interested in Cuba—and photos in general—would want to at least have a look.

Havana is an extraordinary metropolis through which Sven and Bert lead us. Especially Sven’s photos bring us behind the clichés, the façades and the ordinary tourist look of the city, those images we have all too often seen. He takes us into the backyards, into the small streets, into people’s homes. The book also tells us the story of Cuba through Fidel and those who still run the Cuban revolution. Some of the images of the former commander in chief are simply astonishing.

Sven has photographed his adopted home over the last 30 years. His images show an authentic approach beset with passion, of Caribbea, of people and of pure emotions. You can tell Sven is in love with this island. After having finished the book, you understand why he chose Havana as a new home back in the 90’s.

One of my favourite parts of the book is a dialogue between Sven and the Cuban novelist and journalist Leonardo Padura. His is probably one of Cuba’s best-known writers internationally. In this section, Padura comments a handful of Sven’s images. For instance, as he says about one of the photos picturing the balseros, those who fled to the States in 1994: “This photo is the reality. The drama. The gesture and the look of the woman. And this farewell in the picture—that’s the magic of artist, the photographer. What a farewell.”

Every so often Sven comments some of the photos himself. Those testimonies give an insight into the story behind the photographs as well as how Sven thinks as a photographer. There is an immediacy and awareness in his way of seeing and photographing. It shines through in the images, but so too, in every one of those rather brief comments.

My German is not good enough to try to review the writing of Bert Hoofmann. I will only say I have enjoyed it very much. However, I can say with hand on my heart, that Sven’s photos are exceptional. Of course, not every single one to same extent, but generally they show the traces of an inventive, dedicated and extremely proficient photographer. You will not see anything like his photos from Cuba; I am pretty sure about that.

If there is one thing I do not fully approve of in the book, is the use of too many and too small photos. The majority of images are double pages, something that is necessary to grant them full justice. However, when for instance four photos are crammed together on one page, they render small and harder to enjoy. I would have rather edited with a tougher hand so only those images that really shine could be displayed as they deserve. A handful of less strong photos diminish the overall impression. Absolutely unnecessarily.

All the same, Havanna – Im Herzen Kubas is a book I truly recommend even if you are not German speaking. When doing so, I owe it to the readers of the blog to tell that Sven is a good friend of mine. We teach photo workshops together, regularly in Cuba but also in other countries such as Nicaragua later this year.

Unfortunately, Havanna – Im Herzen Kubas is only available from the German branch of Amazon. Nevertheless, click here if you want to go there.

All photos © Sven Creutzmann

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Book of Wisdom

The award winning wildlife, nature and travel photographer Rick Sammon has written 40 books on photography. His latest book—the 40th— was released last autumn. To date, “Photo Therapy – Motivation and Wisdom” is the most interesting book by his hand—if you ask me.

I have read more than my shares of photo books by Sammon. While all are just fine books, none of them really stands out from the kaleidoscope of good photo books available in the market. However, “Photo Therapy – Motivation and Wisdom” is different. It rises above the crowd.

This is probably the least technical photo book by Sammon. It is all about motivation and inspiration, as the title indicates. For me, that is one of the reasons “Photo Therapy – Motivation and Wisdom” stands out. In addition, he writes from his heart and in a very personal style. It feels like the reader sits next to Sammon in a workshop or in his studio and can take in his encompassing wisdom.

That is exactly what Sammon offers. He pours of his life wisdom, wisdom he has gained by spending almost an entire lifetime, since the late 50’s, in the service of photography. Rick Sammon gives us profound insights into how to become a better photographer, not by the camera settings, but by the philosophy of photography. His energy and enthusiasm for life and photography—evident on every page in the book—is contagious.

Despite being a relative small book, and as such an easy read, there is a lot to take in from the book. It requires time to read, mark and inwardly digest—and then go out and practise.

Strangely enough—as a first thought—there is not a single photo in “Photo Therapy – Motivation and Wisdom”, with the exception of the cover image. The book has been criticised for the lack of photos, but the more I read the book, the more I think it’s a valid choice. As he writes himself, he’d like the reader to imagine his or her own photos—and potential photos—while Sammon describes a situation, process, technique, feeling or emotion. It makes the book accessible even for those who don’t necessarily like Sammon’s imagery. I know this by heart. One of my favourite photo book writers creates images I mostly find boring. It can be somewhat annoying when reading one of his otherwise excellent books.

“Photo Therapy – Motivation and Wisdom” is designed to guide you in the internal aspects of photography. Each chapter speaks to an element of the umbrella of mindfulness, which includes health, healthy relationships and emotions, creative visualization, meditation, and connecting with something that brings the reader pure joy.

Not everything in Sammon’s latest book is perfect. I find that Sammon is a little bit all over the place. He sets a tone by the title of a chapter and then digresses and throws in all kinds of thoughts. The book could have been a stronger read if he had approached each theme of a chapter more stringent and focused.

I also find there is a lack of a red thread through the book, from one chapter to the next. What is his overarching goal? Where does Sammon wants to takes us? Yes, to become better photographers, but I miss something that can wrap it all up. It’s like a music play that doesn’t build up to a final crescendo. “Photo Therapy – Motivation and Wisdom” feels more like a blog, with each chapter an independent blog post, rather than a cohesive book. Which of course is fine, if you accept it as a premise for the book.

I do not agree with every statement or thought he brings to the table. Which is fine, too, as it’s always good to be challenged and have habitual thoughts questioned. However, sometimes I do find Sammon more single-minded than actually thought provoking.

An example is his adamant fixation about cropping. He calls it himself Obsessive Cropping Disorder and rant about how stupid (although it’s not the word he uses) it is when a photographer is against cropping and wants to get it right in the camera. Sammon makes a point that cropping afterwards is nothing different than using a telephoto or zoom in at the moment of captured.

Yes, technically speaking it’s the same. But to me he doesn’t get the point, that getting it right in the frame, is about mindset. It’s about concentrating to get it right at the moment of capture. And because it’s a different mindset, the result will be different when taking the photo. I used to photograph with slide film, which means you need to get it right at the moment of captured. These days I crop left and right, but sometimes still decide to get it right in the frame. The process is different, just like shooting with film versus with a digital camera. Just like he talks about “One-Picture-Promise”.

His “One-Picture-Promise” makes sense to me. He thinks that too many photographers shoot too quickly and too many frames. The “One-Picture-Promise” is a mindset in which he asks the reader to imagine he or she has only one single frame remaining on the memory card. It will force the photographer to become more creative. I agree, but also see that sometimes that’s a great approach while at other times it’s necessary to shoot a lot. Again, two different mindset at the moment of capture, that results in two different types of imagery.

Despite my objections or critical comments here, “Photo Therapy – Motivation and Wisdom” is a book I truly can recommend. It will broaden your horizon, inspire you to develop your photography and lift yourself to a higher way of approaching photography and life.

Photo Therapy Motivation and Wisdom: Discovering the Power of Pictures

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Behind the Creative Process—Book Review

Earlier this autumn Aperture released an inspiring and introspective book. Photowork: Forty Photographers on Process and Practice is a book for the curious photographer, whether emerging or well established. As the book title indicates, forty photographers are asked about their approach to the creative process and how they translate that into photographs.

The focus is on a body of work, rather than the single image. Each photographer is asked the same set of questions—twelve to be more specific, creating a typology of responses that allows for an intriguing compare and contrast. How does a photographic project or series evolve? How important are “style” and “genre”? What comes first—the photographs or a concept? These are some of the questions the forty photographers are asked. Curator and lecturer Sasha Wolf was inspired to seek out and assemble responses to these questions after hearing from countless young photographers about how they often feel adrift in their own practice, wondering if they are doing it the “right” way.

The responses, from both established and newly emerging photographers, reveal there is no single path. Their advice is wildly divergent, for the most part generous, and delightful: Justine Kurland discusses the importance of allowing a narrative to unravel; Doug DuBois reflects on the process of growing into one’s own work; Dawoud Bey evokes musicians such as Miles Davis as his inspiration for never wanting to become “my own oldies show.”

I find Photowork to be a stimulating read. Acting as a manifesto of sorts, Photowork aims to depict an authentic image of the creative process in relation to photography. I love the many different approaches and how each photographer brings his or her own thoughts into something that becomes a fascinating, juggling act for the reader’s mind. Some answer are of course less interesting that others, but for the most part, I learned a lot and enjoyed reading about the many different paths that each photographer brings to the table.

A few photographers—particularly a couple of the more well-known— give way to somewhat arrogant responses, at least in my opinion. And some photographers bring forth pretentious and pompous statements. They talk seemingly very intellectually about their work, but with words that actually says nothing and are more like the emperor’s new clothes, if you know the fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen. Nevertheless, the majority of answers are truly evocative and reflective.

I think most readers will find approaches they can relate to in Photowork. Certainly, I did. However, I what I found most interesting was to discover new approaches and new ways of thinking that forced me to think differently myself. To be creative is to be willing to be challenged. And often enough I was in Photowork. For me that was maybe the most enjoyable part of the reading experience—something to ponder on and bring into my own photography.

Interestingly enough, most, if not all photographers, agree upon working both intuitively and intellectually with a different emphasis on one end or the other of a continuum between the two. Otherwise, the diversity and difference in the answers is a great inducement. Like how some photographs embark on a project only after significant deliberations while others seem just to float into what eventually becomes a project. As an example of the latter is Katy Grannan. She says about the process as work that flows from other work: “Ideas come from anywhere and at any time and sometimes, not at all. I just keep working, keep living my life and trusting my curiosity.”

Also Peter Kayafas has a more fluid approach to his projects. He approaches his interaction with the world through the camera without much preconception. For him, it’s important the project such as they are—or might become—evolve out of using the camera without being inhibited by preoccupation to hunt something down that fits with a project. Furthermore, he says about a photographer’s voice: “I think an artist’s goal should not be to find a voice per se, but to empower the one that he or she already has. This is not to say that an artist should not strive to challenge and refine his or her voice, but I think that there is nothing more dangerous to original work than trying to create a voice”.

Another enjoyable part of the reading experience was learning about photographers and how they think that I had never heard about before. Two such photographers were for me Kelli Connell and Matthew Connors. I ended up buying some of their books, although out of print, still available second hand on Amazon.

The format of the book—the same twelve questions to all photographers—is both its strength and its weakness. It’s of great value to be able to directly compare how different photographers think about various aspects of their body of work and the creative process. But sometimes I would have liked for follow up questions to elaborate some of the more pensive answers. I would also have loved to learn more about how other cultures besides Western culture think about the process and practice of photography. Most photographers in Photowork are based in United States. Although there are a handful of photographers from other parts of the world, how interesting wouldn’t it be to learn how photographers from Asia, Africa or South America approach their photography creatively.

At first I was taken aback with the fact, that Photowork doesn’t show any photos. That’s right—text only. While the book is a collection of interviews where artists talk about their photographic processes and practices, there are no actual photos to be looked at between the questioning. At first, I thought it was silly. A book on photography without any photos? But this was clearly a deliberate decision. Since the artists speak specifically to creating a body of work, I can see how it would be difficult to pick and choose any one or couple of photos to represent the whole when the conversation calls for understanding a series—both how it is made and how it exists in the larger scope of things. Plus, including any number of photos of the many artists’ in question might have been disruptive to the ideas being discussed, when, in fact, the inquisitive reader is already doing a deep-dive on any names that interest them.

I will strongly recommend Photowork: Forty Photographers on Process and Practice for anyone who is serious about his or her photography. Particularly if you are curios about working on a photo project or a larger body of work—or are already working on one. With Christmas soon approaching, this is the perfect gift for your photographing friend—or yourself.

To buy the book, click on the link below:

PhotoWork: Forty Photographers on Process and Practice

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The Soul of the Photographer

If there is one book about the photographic process released the last year and a half that I really want to recommend it’s “The Soul of the Camera” by the Canadian photographer David duChemin. It’s book for those who have come to a point where equipment and technique is of less importance, but rather seek ways to express themselves and feel the need to develop their personal vision. As he writes himself; clearly the camera matters—otherwise we wouldn’t be able to take photos—but in the end the photographer matters more.

It’s the photographer and his or her approach to photography that duChemin addresses in the book. How can you use yourself, your curiosity, your emotions, your creativity to unleash your photographic vision, your distinctive voice? That is what he writes about. It’s about being authentic to yourself and about photographing with a clear intention. As such, the title is actually misleading: It is not about the soul of the camera, but rather the soul of the photographer. I guess what duChemin argues is that the soul of the camera is us, the photographers, the ones holding the camera. It is us, and our vision, that puts the soul into our photographs.

There are plenty of books about how to take pictures by mastering composition, exposure, lighting, post-production, and more. But there aren’t many books about what goes on inside the mind of a photographer, what they think about, and how they approach photography. That is what duChemin addresses in “The Soul of the Camera”. This is a book for photographers who want to take pictures, not play with their gear. If you want to think differently about photography—whether you have the latest gear or not—this book is for you.

The book is beautifully written and in a manner, that perhaps only David duChemin can write. He uses the own experience and development as a springboard to write about the photographic process from the point of the photographer’s mindset. The writing is philosophical and expansive and thus will have a different meaning to different photographers at different points on their journey.

The “Soul of the Camera” feels like a different style of book from some of David duChemin’s previous works, such as “Within the Frame” and “Photographically Speaking”. Yet it really isn’t so different. Each of these books takes a core theme and explores it, trying to convey to the reader its importance and how it might be used to better our photography, and even to learn what better photography means. “The Soul of the Camera” is similar to the other two in that it focuses on a theme, that of “the Photographers Place in Picture-Making.” None of these books are very focused on gear or technique and this book is even less so than the others.

The one objection I have towards his writing is that it’s a little too vague. It’s like someone saying you should be mindful. But if you don’t know how to be mindful, it’s a statement that doesn’t help you anywhere. In trying not to set parameters for other’s development, duChemin becomes too elusive and not concrete enough to help the reader on his or her way towards a more mindful approach to photography.

He writes so himself, about vision, that it’s an elusive topic. So instead of attacking the subject head one, he becomes unusual unclear. Yes, vision is a vague subject matter, but duChemin has written clearly and insightfully about it so many times before. He excuses himself for exactly that in “The Soul of the Camera”; he says he has written so much about vision before, that he has become very self-conscious about writing any further about. Unfortunately, that makes his writing in “The Soul of the Camera” less enlightening.

Do you need another book about photography? DuChemin kind of answers himself: “[Y]ou don’t need another book[…] Yes, read all the books you can get your hands on. But you probably don’t need them as much as you need time to make this craft yours. What you need is time to make photographs.”

I principally will have to agree with duChemin. However, that view doesn’t give the whole picture (no pun intended), as I am sure he will agree upon; otherwise he wouldn’t have written yet another book. Books are good for inspiration, good for new ideas and good for learning more. If that’s what you need, I will highly recommend “The Soul of the Camera”. Despite the few objections I have raised, it’s an inspiring book for any photographer searching for his or her voice.

Then, after having read the book, you still need to go out there and practice. You still need to put in the time to actually make photographs.

In the book, duChemin explores what it means to make better and more personal photographs. Illustrated with a collection of his black and white images, the book’s essays address topics such as craft, mastery, vision, audience, discipline, and authenticity. “The Soul of the Camera” is a personal and deeply sensible book that quietly yet forcefully challenges the idea that our cameras, lenses and settings are anything more than dumb and mute tools.

Once again; DuChemin’s and the book’s point is that it’s the photographer—not the camera—that can make better photographs. As he writes in the book: “The camera on its own is a wonder, but in the hands of the poet, the storyteller, the seeker of change, or the frustrated artist, it can create something alive that touches our humanity.”

The Soul of the Camera: The Photographer’s Place in Picture-Making
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Zen Camera

A Book Review

In last week’s post I wrote about Your Daily Record, a creative habit that resembles a free-ranging journal of thoughts and impressions in which you let the unconscious mind connect directly with the world around you through the camera. The idea I picked up from the book Zen Camera: Creative Awakening with a Daily Practice in Photography by David Ulrich. The book itself is worth looking into for anyone interested in expanding his or her photography.

Zen Camera isn’t the first photo book which draws upon Eastern philosophy in its approach to photography. Others include books such as The Practice of Contemplative Photography: Seeing the World with Fresh Eyes, Tao of Photography: Seeing Beyond Seeing and Opening The Good Eye: A Path to True Seeing, all books I can recommend even if you are not interested in Eastern Philosophy at all. They all, included Zen Camera, give you a unique and useful approach to expanding your photography.

However Zen Camera, differs from the others in that it’s more a cohesive program or a long term workshop than a book of inspiration and new ideas. David Ulrich draws on the principles of Zen practice as well as forty years of teaching photography to offer six reflective lessons for developing your self-expression as a photographer. His ambition with the book is to purify our seeing and allow our original self to emerge.

In my opinion, Ulrich largely accomplishes the objective. At least if you are willing to look beyond his sometimes a little lengthy deliberations about the meaning of it all, if you get my notion. The six lessons take you step by step from initially developing you seeing and observation skills to how to be able to reach mastery and being able to have your photography reflect whom you are as a person in grander perspective. Of course, mastery is not something you can learn by reading a book, but Ulrich’s reflections around the way to mastery are both well founded and encouraging. In fact, reading a book will not be of much help at all. You need to convert the words into skills by practicing. And Ulrich offers plenty of fun, applicable and challenging exercises.

The foundation of the “program” running as a red thread through Zen Camera is the Daily Record. All the lessons and all the exercises in each lesson can be fulfilled through the Daily Record. By working your way through the lessons and exercises you eyes will open up to seeing most likely in a different way than you are used to. It might also transform the way you perceive life, depending on your susceptibility to the Zen philosophy. At least Ulrich aims at making his thoughts valid not only for your photography but for life as such. As he write in the preface; “Zen Camera is not only about photography; it is about you. In six lessons, it guides you to cultivate creativity with the camera and all areas of your life… It helps you realize Socrates’ great directive, Know thyself, and uncover the seeds of the authentic self, hidden behind layers of conditioning and socializing”.

I am not a Zen practitioner myself, and sometimes Ulrich’s deliberations around life and meaning of life seem a little too contrived to me. It’s just too much of it and a bit too woozy and lofty. However, I am sure others will have a different perception of this. The language in the book is also somewhat scholarly and studious as is evident in the quote above—which at times makes it demanding to read. Furthermore, Ulrich’s wordiness can at times be a hurdle in and of itself for fluid reading. Personally, what I find most unpleasing is his tendency towards using a flourishing languages. An example: “Freshness blooms from the beginner’s mind that has its focus in the eternal now”. For me the language distracts. I get caught up in the wording itself rather than what the words try to convey.

Despite my objections, I have no problem recommending the book. You will just have to take it for what it is. But I am quite certain that no matter how you look upon Eastern philosophy and no matter how skilled or not skilled you are, you will arrive on the other side of the book with a different and more developed approach to photography, as long as you dig into it and transform the ideas into a practical approach. Zen Camera will make you a better photographer and if you can see beyond its elusive framework, it will be both inspirational and encouraging.

Available on Amazon:.

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