Musings on Photographic Solitude

[John Cook]

After reading at least two recent threads here which mentioned interference from others while on location, it suddenly occurred to me that I am photographically quite alone and don’t really mind it. In fact, I am embarrassed to admit that I revel in it.

As a now retired recluse, all of the studios for which I once worked or competed are pretty much gone. One burnt to the ground. My former bosses and colleagues are all retired, most are dead. All but one of the camera stores are gone. That one remaining has a new young owner, does digital and no longer stocks sheet film nor lab supplies. I don’t go there.

I think about these former acquaintances often, and fondly, but I don’t go into a big emotional decline, pining for their company.

It’s not that I hate people. There is no need for the government to investigate to see if I am making bombs in my basement for some dastardly plan.

I simply think of myself as a farmer in Iowa, twenty miles from the nearest small town, who has a very long list of chores to do every morning: cows to milk, pigs to slop, chickens to feed, eggs to gather, hoeing to do, a barn to paint and a plow to weld. Just no interest nor time to drive all the way into town and chew the fat, or some other foolishness, all morning with the barber and druggist over coffee and a doughnut at the local lunch counter.

Large format photography is like that. Long hours alone in the darkroom. Room for only one under the focus cloth. By definition, one is all alone at remote wilderness locations.

I have come to believe that sheet film is a format which attracts people who, by nature, are never lonely. It just isn’t a team sport. We are not the clubby, chummy type. We don't get embroidered satin shirts like the amateur bowling league.

To prove my point, I did a search for “solitude” and got twenty-five very revealing hits.

Just wondering how many of you are also congenital lovers of solitude. Or is it that after a week of having meetings about meetings and making lists of lists (and other corporate foolishness), the weekend is a time to totally withdraw from society?

I once knew a very shy little girl who when embarrassed would just close her eyes in an attempt to make everyone go away. She thought that closing her eyes made the world dark, and no one could see her either.

Perhaps slipping under the dark cloth is like that...

[Steve Hamley]

John,

I've always enjoyed the LF solitude shooting by myself as much or more than with others. However, I frequently get out with a LF friend or two and feel it's an important experience to see how other photographers "see". We also have a get together once or twice a year that's fun.

Asssociating with other photographers, especially landscapers from "non-familiar" places, is important because they know where things are that you don't, know how to shoot in that new environment, which saves you rediscovering the wheel. This is important in a non-studio environment where you have no control over lighting other than sitting down and waiting, and compositional elements have to be discovered in situ.

So yes, I agree with you pretty much, but that periodic interaction with fellow photographers is helpful too, at least if you do landscapes.

Steve

[Ben Calwell]

John,

Great post -- I enjoy solitude and taking photos, alone, with a large format camera. I always choose places where I'm sure I won't be disturbed or gawked at. That's not alway possible, so I sometimes must force myself to set up the camera. But once I do and get under the dark cloth, I don't worry about it. It's like taking that first hit in a football game.

[Kevin M Bourque]

Some people charge their batteries by going to parties and getting involved in a social scene. They're nuts! :-) I charge my batteries by hiding in a cave. When I was a teen my sister used to call me "mole man" because I seldom saw the light of day.

To this day I have a fairly small need for constant company.....this holds true for all things, not just photography. It certainly helps to have a spouse that understand that mindset.

[Kevin M Bourque]

....and another thing....isn't darkroom work the very embodiment of the troglodyte lifestyle? Dark, quiet, cool, and solotary. Mmmmmm.

[Salty]

I enjoy solitude also. I'd rather blend in than get attention, unfortunately using LF draws attention.

[Ralph Barker]

The German poet Rilke said it best:

Du, meine heilige einsamkeit, du bist so reich und rein und weit, wie ein erwachender ULF camera.

Or, something like that. ;-)

[John Kasaian]

John,

Right on! IMHO Large Format is as much a thought process as a physical act. Its hard for me to enjoy thinking when there are too many competeing distractions going on. Solitude is a grace.

I think flying bush planes and ski racing (maybe bull fighting?)are similar in that the motivation to survive is greater than the distraction of speed and the proximity of doom.---you kind of get super concentrated on just 'flying the ship' and anything else thats going on stops being an issue requiring attention. When I'm in the middle of the forest with my 8x10, whats going on IS photography---its an all too rare of an occasion to be erroded by other concerns---you wouldn't want your heart surgeon thinking about his alimony while he's re-routing your arteries, would you?

Cheers!

[MIke Sherck]

For some unknown reason I happened to be thinking along the same lines this weekend. In my case it was probably because it's been too long since I was able to go out and photograph. :) I found myself wondering whether a view camera was, to me, just another excuse to leave the family at home and go camping for the weekend. If so, I miss it...

[Oren Grad]

Right on... Most of the time when I'm out with a camera or down in the darkroom, I might as well be on another planet.

[Brian C. Miller]

While it is good to have solitude, it is also good to have immediate interaction with another photographer. On rare occasion, I meet other photographers. We've helped each other out with immediate creativity ("What are you seeing?" "Point the lens there!" "What is that camera like?" "Where did you buy that?" "I made it myself.").

The same thing happens in the darkroom. I've helped out a friend learning photography in his darkroom. I wish that I could visit other guys in their darkrooms, too. There is so much to learn from direct interaction!

[j.e.simmons]

I'm reminded of a definition I read once describing the difference between introverts and extroverts. Extroverts are invigorated by their contact with other people - introverts are exhausted by them.

I suspect large format photography is attractive to introverts - it certainly is to me. I enjoy being alone in the woods. A couple of times a year, I go on a group shoot with my camera club. I'm amazed at how the other members wander around in a pack, small digicams hanging around their necks, yacking and all snapping photos of the same things. I'm usually off by myself pointing my 8x10 at something none of them even look at.

That said, I've recently met some fellow large format shooters, and we get together to shoot about once a month. It is expanding to talk to other large format photographers and to see what they are doing and how.

[Eric Biggerstaff]

John,

As always I enjoy reading your posts - they make me stop and ponder a bit which is nice (and I am not a strong technical person so I like this type of post).

Like almost every other person who responded I too like to find a quiet time to focus on my photography. When I am alone I can really appreciate the moment that I am in, and I think that is important.

However, I find that if I am with the RIGHT person then often they encourage and support my work. Usually this is another LF photographer who understands and appreciates the process. I have a couple of good LF buddies who I enjoy photographing with and I often make nice images when I am with them.

While I agree that many of us seek solitude for our work and find much enjoyment in being under the darkcloth or in the darkroom, all of us on this forum must also seek interaction with other photographers or we wouldn't be contributors.

For me, I am happy either way. After a busy week of work and family, it is nice to spend some alone time, but then again at times it is nice to have someone who can push me a bit and hopefully help me get to the next level in my art.

As always, thanks for the great post.

www.ericbiggerstaff.com

[Bill Hahn]

May I recommend Robert Schumann, Opus 83 No 3, "Der Einsiedler" (The Hermit)

Die Jahren wie die Wolken geh'n,

und lassen mich hier einsam steh'n.

Die Welt hat mich vergessen.

The years go by like the clouds

and leave me here alone.

The world has forgotten me...

[Mark Sampson]

See the books of Colin Fletcher, someone who prefers solitude and writes about it quite well.

"The Man Who Walked Through Time" and "River".

[Brian Vuillemenot]

I don't think it's so much that LFers seek solitude as an end in itself- it's just a requirement for successful image making. It's a pursuit that requires complete concentration and focus to be successful (at least in my case). Or perhaps people who enjoy solitude are drawn to LF, for this reason...

[paulr]

It's interesting to see how photography can actually create solitude ... the dark cloth, the darkroom ... in fact, before the internet (and its amazing ability to bring distant weirdos together) just talking about photography could create solitude. next time you're at a cocktail party, see how fast the room clears when you start expounding on your favorite pyro formula.

once in a while i do have fun bringing someone along when i photograph. usually it's been other photographers, which has been interesting ... a brief visit with someone else's way of seeing. a few weeks ago my girlfriend (not a photographer) came with me. I ended up seeing so much more because of her. she'd never wandered through empty lots the way i've been doing for years, so it was all fresh and exciting to her. Every couple of minutes she'd shout out "Look!" It was nice to get back in touch with that kind of energy. She discovered some beautiful peaches growing in a backyard in brooklyn, right by the burned out shell of a car. My last time there I'd walked right by.

[Bruce Watson]

Perhaps you are seeing the difference between extroverts and introverts. One definition I've seen says that extroverts are energized by other people and get lonely and depressed without other people around. Introverts find themselves drained by other people. They have their highest energy levels and do their best work alone.

By this definition, I'm an introvert for sure. One of the reasons I like LF photography is that it's not a group activity.

[Brian Sims]

I just returned from three days of "solitude" on the Washington coast (Toleak Point). I shot 45 sheets of film, drank some good wine and ate lots of muscles, skinny-dipped in the ocean and walked the beach until I dried in the sun....utterly alone. Well, maybe not alone. John's thoughtful message made me think about that solitude. Just because I was the only human on the beach, doesn't mean I felt alone. There were hundreds of pelicans entertaining me with their acrobatic stunts. Eagles. Seals. Otters. And every morning I climbed out of my tent to see fresh cougar tracks inches from my tent (thankfully, the raccoons are fat and slow from eating so many clams). I was hardly alone. The breath taking beauty of the coastline itself seems like a companion. Even while under the dark cloth, I didn't feel alone. There...in front of me...is this spectacular image of light and color and form that is both a stranger and an old friend.

Thanks John for such a thought provoking message.

[Brett Deacon]

Great post, John. Although I've never thought about it in these terms, solitude is very much a part of my love of LF photography. Before I took up photography I strove to find solitude in the natural world by hiking and camping in the backcountry. For me, having lots of other people around really takes away from the experience of being out there in nature. That's why I've always preferred backcountry campsites to campgrounds, and starting hikes in the early morning at popular places before the crowds pick up.

It's no different with photography. Although I enjoy sharing ideas with fellow photographers, fighting for elbow room with two dozen photographers at the Snake River Overlook this summer wasn't my idea of a good time. And as much as I enjoy my wife's company I find it difficult to balance the time demands of the LF shooting process with my concerns about not keeping her waiting for too long (despite her impressive patience). I am fortunate to have moved to Wyoming where I am surrounded by vast tracts of beautiful and virtually uninhabited wilderness where solitude is a given just about every time I head out to shoot. The only exception is that my golden retriever is always by my side. She is very good company, loves the outdoors as much as I do, doesn't complain when I take 20 minutes to compose an image on the groundglass, and has an uncanny knack for finding the trail which has saved me from getting lost on more than one occasion.

I ran into a fellow photographer in the mountains near my house a while back and we agreed to head out to shoot together one morning. Per his preference we arrived to our destination well after sunrise. He took out his digital SLR and took probably 100+ pictures in about two hours. I never even unzipped my LF backpack. My typical shoot involves waking up at 4:00 AM, driving 30-60 minutes, hiking the same, and being in the right spot for sweet light when the sun comes up. If the lighting isn't right I'm not apt to shoot at all; if it is, a few exposures is all I require. With this style of shooting solitude is an inherent part of the process - mostly because I haven't run into anyone else out here who is crazy enough to do this with me!

[Jim Galli]

Absolut.

Anyone who lives in Tonopah Nevada on purpose........well, it's a no brainer.

My happy meter pointer begins to get near peg when the planets align and;

...it's the weekend

...nothing is so seriously broke that I have to fix it immediately

...my sweet bride says her and a pal are leaving for the weekend to go to the theatre

...the wind isn't blowing too hard.

[Mark Sawyer]

I tend to be a pretty social being. Between teaching, hosting a weekly poker game (nickel ante, people go "oooh" if you bet a quarter), and having a big, close circle of friends, photography gives me an activity I can pursue on my own, quietly and unhurried.

I took a friend photographing in the mountains once. He said he wanted to see the whole process, and promised to be patient. When I saw a group of trees and rocks and started shifting back and forth trying to find the right spot, he became a bit antsy waiting for the two or three minutes it took me to decide. He'd gotten almost angry and walked off to explore on his own by the time I was putting the camera on the tripod. If only I'd taken out a book and read for a couple hours, waiting for the sun to sink a bit...

[Jay De Fehr]

Thanks for the very thoughtful post, John.

While I enjoy the solitude of my darkroom, as a portraitist, I rarely work alone. My work is about relationships more than it is about me, or my subjects. These relationships are intimate, one-to-one relationships, as I rarely photograph more than one person, so I don't think of my working environment as a social one, even though I most often work in daylight, in public places. I am not likely to run into other photographers in the places I choose to work, because my ideal environment does not appeal to landscape or nature photographers, or even street photographers. So, even though I rarely work alone, in some ways I feel even more isolated from other photographers than I might if I were a landscape or nature, or street photographer. I can imagine portraitists who work in a studio might feel similarly.

Jay

[Craig Wactor]

I think I shoot very remote locations on purpose, so I can be alone while I shoot. It is a very meditative experience for me, and having people come up and ask me about it kinda ruins the experience. I know other photographers though, who shoot in public because they like the attention LF brings.

[John Cook]

My current pet peeve is all these little organizers who missed their calling as cruise social directors, and are busy putting together civically significant weekend activities for everybody.

Thanks to their efforts, the entire population seems to spend their Saturdays and Sundays walking, running or bicycling to cure some awful disease. These athletic events, which work up an appetite, are then followed by “A Taste of ____” festival on the town green.

Those with a little more energy are given signs to wave and put on busses to be driven to some “spontaneous” people’s protest where they can spend the day being photographed by the news media whilst chanting their little slogans and generally making a public nuisance of themselves.

Meanwhile, families are obligated to drive their child to some soccer tournament at the other end of the state.

Last week while having an oil change, I met a woman at the dealership customer lounge who had spent the previous weekend with two children each in a separate tournament in a separate state. They took a motel room near each location and spent the two days driving back and forth between games.

Of those who manage to stay in town, half are at the Wal-Mart buying new “stuff” while the other half are holding a tag, garage, yard (depending upon where you live) sale to get rid of last year’s “stuff”.

I miss the days when we all were independent of these organizational efforts.

Weekends were for shutting off the alarm and sleeping late.

Summer Saturdays were about mowing the lawn and cleaning the grill. By ourselves.

In the Fall, we spent the day raking leaves into a pile in the street. Dad burned them while chatting with the neighbor and smoking his pipe. Don’t know whether the leaves or his tobacco were more aromatic.

Winter Sunday mornings were for drinking cocoa in our bathrobes and reading the Sunday paper. Anybody still remember Maggie & Jiggs and the Katzenjammer Kids?

I used to be able to slip away by myself on weekends for a quiet drive in the country to make photographs.

But, thanks to these ambitious little organizers, I now find myself on a little winding lane in farm country at 7:00 AM on Saturday morning in a bumper-to-bumper, stop-and-go traffic jam of people, all with their little colored ribbons, rushing to attend some important organized event.

Where in the world do all these organizers come from? Who are they? And will we ever be rid of them?

Loners and recluses have rights, too.

Perhaps I could try to organize an event which calls for participants to get people to sign up to stay home, for a change!

[John_4185]

John Cook Winter Sunday mornings were for drinking cocoa in our bathrobes and reading the Sunday paper. Anybody still remember Maggie & Jiggs and the Katzenjammer Kids?

Of course I remember. Selective memory creates all sorts of personal myths. Have you forgotten the downsides of Those Days? How about the terrible pain of dieing or dire illness and injuries before pain control was even considered, of never really being warm in the winter, the persistent smell and smoke of coal fires, spoiled food, flu, viruses that killed, polio, and of course the Cold War prospect of nuclear devastation commingled with the social angst of the Red Scare and The Corporate Man that turned the national psyche to an illness.

You have a choice now of what you enjoy railing against, or moving to a truly rural area. Have the NY Times and good coca shipped in so you can enjoy those Sundays. You have the potential of the best of both worlds. No excuses.

Finally, is it not rather odd that you use state-of-the-art communications to foster a community undreamed of Back Then?

So much for the Way Back machine.

The Other John,

[John Cook]

Life is about change.

And change is the product of both progress and deterioration.

I absolutely revel in the progress.

It's only the deterioration I mourn.

In this particular case, it's the being left alone to live my life in peace that I miss.

My point is not progress, it's all the enthusiastic little organizers who seem intent on running my weekend activities for me.

[John Kasaian]

John Cook,

Right On!

I love the part about the wannabe cruise ship social directors.

I think an issue is that a lot of people somehow feel safer when they are in "mobs." You can find a "mob" to your liking is you live in big communities (Mobs of soccer moms, mobs of Guiness drinking lawyers, mobs of golfing physicians, mobs of r/c airplane flying accountants, mobs of minibike riding freemasons---you get the idea)

You can choose who you want to get along with and ignore the rest.

In small communities, its harder to find mobs. In a small town you don't have much of a choice to seek out those who'll remind you of yourself. Your barber might listen to country music, your butcher might be a communist, your baker a racist, your shoe repairman an opera enthusiast and the minimart clerk a Hindu law student.

You are exposed to a myriad of different stimuli simply by driving across town---and you've got to try and get along with them all---they're your nieghbors and you depend on them.

A smaller community would probably be the family, where Mom's a psychic, Dads a wood worker, Uncle Walts a fransican friar but your other uncle Harry is a COL in the Marines and aunt Sadie keeps a boa constrictor in her piano. Sis dances in a topless club and baby brother builds model rockets when he's not translating babylonian poetry.

You're not only exposed to a myriad of stimuli, It follows you around from room to room and even spends holidays and weekends with you---you have to get along with all of them because you love them(and you don't want them to lock you out of the bathroom!)

Perhaps the smallest community of all is when we're alone, photographing and the stimuli---nature and all the universe---surrounds us.

You have to get along with the universe because theres no place else to go.

My 2-cents!