Photos and Food (Korea Week 4)
This is probably the best photo I've taken in Seoul, so far. And that is not saying much. I like some of the things I've done, but I'm not blown away by any of them. Basically, I'm still searching for something, but I don't think I know what that is. I'd had in my mind an idea about what I would find here, about how it would look. There's been a little confirmation of that idea (the juxtaposition of old and new Korea), but more and more I'm finding something else entirely. It's honestly a struggle to figure this place out and I've not come close yet. I'm interested in the flow of daily life here even though I still feel like I don't understand it. The markets, whether traditional or modern, are intimidating. The language is still a huge mystery. Mostly I've been trying to concentrate on a few specific photographic issues while at the same time learning what I can about the city.
We're four weeks into our trip and the daily routine has already become a little mundane. Not in a bad way, but the initial thrill of being here has steadily given way to normalcy and the familiar. I've already stopped noticing the things immediately on our block and the urge to photograph every inch of it has passed (although there are several things I'd like to shoot before we leave). There's daily food shopping or laundry to be done. And evenings revolve mostly around K and her nighttime patterns. She even had a rare three-hour nap last week, which left me time to get knee deep into some book and web research about all things photography.
I look at primarily two things when researching photography, but in no organized fashion. I mostly go where the perceived holes in my knowledge seems best plugged. Lately it's been all about lighting. This is the contemporary part of my research. I look at commercial photographers a lot for this. I don't really want to do that style of work, but they know their lighting and exposures so well that I learn a lot from them. It's intimidating because some of these people are really, really good. I've slowly been able to talk myself down from feeling like I'll never be able to do what they do into a more measured approach where I accept that I can learn and apply new skills.
The other part of the research is looking at work of the Great Photographers (my emphasis). I brought two classic books along for the trip, John Szarkowski's Looking at Photographs and Ansel Adams's The Camera. The Szarkowski is the one I've spent the most time with. I like to look at and learn about the works that are considered some of the best of the past. I don't want to reproduce that work, but I do find it helpful in figuring out my own style. It seems that most often these photos deal with people. That is one of the things I've tried to work on while in Seoul.
Photographing people on the street has inherent risks. I've had people in the US pick fights with me over it. The polite part of me wants to ask permission before doing it. I've not done that in the past, but I was hoping that it might make for better pictures, so I'm trying it out while here. Asking for this is like asking for a date. I thought the language barrier would actually make for a more amusing process and that people would let their guard down, but it's just as uncomfortable as doing in the US. If you are going to do it you just have to accept that at least some portion are going to say no. But the no's always hurt a little and make me lose confidence in this approach. I can't decide if it's just better to shoot and hope nobody throws anything at me.
The best thing about my time here and the photos I've taken is that it's given me some time to think about my style and what kind of photographer I want to be. Looking at the great works has made me think that there is an onus towards capturing some true, real emotion in people on the street. I see this kind of thing on the web a lot, often with some kind of corny title that attaches some assumed meaning to the person in the photo. You can hardly presume to know what someone is experiencing in a sample of just 1/125th of a second of their lives. I've kind of come full circle: I'm just shooting what looks interesting. I don't want to attach any more significance to things than that. Of course, this thinking leads to images like this:
It's nice, but do you really feel anything from seeing it? Does it tell a story? I know that someone standing there in the frame might make it more interesting though.
My technique has been getting more refined over the years. When presented with a big subject, I try to concentrate on the details to tell the story rather than trying to pack tons of information into the frame, which would make it thematically diffuse. Shooting film led me to think about whether I would want to spend time printing or scanning a given photo. Why waste the effort if I'm not likely to want to work with it? This got me to take far fewer, but better pictures. I've now started looking at what I'm photographing as whether I would find the image interesting if someone else shot it. If there's one thing I picked up in live theatre it's the idea that the medium is entertainment first. Deosn't matter if the theme is Important, no one will listen if it's presented in a boring fashion. Same rule applies with photography. If the picture is not interesting to look at, it doesn't matter the context. And if I wouldn't spend much time on an image of similar quality from someone else, I can't think that anyone other than me will want to see my work.
I don't know my way through all these ideas yet, but it's becoming clearer. My predisposed ideas didn't pan out. My goal of telling the story of Seoul seems more elusive than I'd thought, and I'm not really a documentary photographer at heart anyway. A photo not only has to tell a story but it should be visually engaging. I don't know if any of these photos will ever see the light of day, but I'm glad that I'm pursuing some end with the images nonetheless. I'm learning a lot.
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Time is growing short on our stay here now. We've passed the half-way mark. Still have to make real plans for our final week. Have some ideas finally.
Wishing I could explore more of the food, but I'm finding myself intimidated by it. I had a fantasy of being really adventurous with the street food, like I might just sit down at a stall and just point to things. Trouble is, that doesn't really work. You see it on travel shows all the time, but the hosts usually have guides and translators and several producers and camera people following them around. It makes the vendors more forgiving I guess. Plus you see the edited experience where the negotiations and explanations are all cut away. We the viewer only see the eating. I'm just a big stupid white guy with baby strapped to his back (and I can't even begin to tell you have difficult this makes street photography). People seem to expect you to know what you want even if they quickly assess that you have no idea how to read or speak the language. Plus, I can sometimes get by with ordering something unfamiliar, but I often have fear that I'm going to eat it in the wrong way. Tonight I got a rare night out by myself and ordered some dish from the pictures. I know it was breaded and fried meat of some kind with rice on the side. They gave me a knife and fork, which from the looks of it might have been the only set in the restaurant. It may have well come wrapped in paper that said "for big stupid white guys who don't know how to use chop sticks." Fortunately I do know how to use chop sticks (thanks McDonalds), but I couldn't figure out how to use them on this dish. So I gave in and used the knife and fork. I also put the rice on the meat because, well, it tasted good that way. No one seemed to laugh and point, but I kind of hid in the corner in case I made some kind of huge faux paus.
It's nice, but do you really feel anything from seeing it?
That particular photograph makes me feel like every single thing in my life should be that shade of red. And what's going on on the ceiling? Is that paint? I guess it's making me feel like I want to get there and look around more.
My favorite photograph is the one of the woman taking a picture. She seems out of context somehow, all done up like she is.
It strikes me that one advantage of being a writer instead of a photographer is that I am completely at liberty to listen to other people's conversations in public and then transcribe them in my notebook, and no one besides me needs to know. I wouldn't do it if I had to ask permission, that's for sure.
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Yeah, one of the things with street photography is that you have to take what's there really and do it really fast. You can't always compose as much you'd like and there's not really any room for making things up. If you are writing, you can take some small moment of inspiration and run with it. I've had tons of ideas for "fictionalized" photos, but I need to do more lighting work before going down that road.
The vase and room are from the same palace facility that the lady w/umbrella was at. And yes, that is painting on the ceiling. It's impressive to see a small slice of it, but it loses its appeal somewhat when you see it on dozens of buildings and temples and it's all basically the same. Plus, the palace grounds are basically big empty spaces with sparse details and little shade. Not that I don't like it, but there's not really much to "see," so to speak.
And re: the woman w/umbella...there's lots of people who look out of context from how it would be in the US. But many of the women here wear short skirts and high heels in almost every situation. In the States you'd see people in sneakers way more, although I can't imagine it's very comfortable walking around these large palace grounds with heels on.
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I guess this is why we're known the world over for being a bunch of slobs. I can admire that woman's look, but I'd be completely uncomfortable in what she's wearing, especially those (admittedly amazing) heels. Not to mention I'm way too curvy for those skinny capris. (Lord, please bring the skinny jean craze to an end.)
What I love about writing is that even if you're writing nonfiction, you're basically creating impressions and realities to suit yourself as a writer, to show the world as you see it or want to see it or want others to see it--more more likely some mysterious combination of all that. Fiction is even better in this regard. It's all so much more organized than real life, which so infrequently presents us with emotionally satisfying things like foreshadowing or symbols or themes.
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Every travel book I've ever read states that the country in question is known to dress well in everyday life. Reading that always makes me think that people will be dressed much, much better than they actually end up being. But, it does mean that you don't see people wearing shirts untucked or sweatpants or the like. Not never, but WAY less than you'd see in the US.
I think writing in any form, like photography in any form, is condensing and re-contextualizing. It may be non-fiction, but you are always making choices about perspective and what NOT to include. I always like to think that the art is a lie exposing truth. It's easier to see that in works of art, but because of the narrow view that any single book or picture can present, you could say that it's all lies. Or at the very least shadows.
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