Things were way too stuffy for the young West Coast California photographers; they needed fresh air, wide-open spaces, cars, the Pacific Ocean, the desert, a dash of eroticism (except for Ansel), dramatic light, and most of all, freedom from the stifling East Coast crowd and their mind-numbing Pictorialist dregs. The date was November 15, 1932, exactly 79 years ago today. It marked the date that the f/64 photographers had their coming out exhibition at the de Young Museum in San Francisco.

Come to think of it, these West Coast photographers didn’t really care for much of anything that remotely smacked of the East Coast (well, except for maybe killer bagels and lox), and even named their Oakland gallery the “683,” mocking the Alfred Stieglitz New York “291″ gallery. Mocking is good, I like that. Sometimes all you’ve got left is spunk and a nearly empty box of film. These new photographers couldn’t stand the pretentiousness of the cramped New York scene and were brazen about it. Danged if they were going to let a bunch of haughty East Coasters define them, and after naming themselves “Group F/64,” they even came up with a manifesto. How’s that for audaciousness?

Imogen Cunningham, Plant Pattern, 1920's

I absolutely love this photograph by Imogen; it reminds me of a ferocious great white shark being hunted down by Killer Whales from my ancient homeland in Alaska. The paper with the mottled light has echoes of mountainous waves and the black values at the top echoes the drama of a night sky, which is a perfect metaphor for trying to survive in the worst depression America has ever witnessed. It feels ominous and predatory without being didactic, and the coolest part is simply naming it something as innocuous as “Plant Pattern.” Brilliant, simply brilliant. Especially when you realize that it was the 1920’s and other artists were pretending to make work with relevance as Imogen was quietly making a portfolio of photograhic prints that had this visual aesthetic; she was a master of light in addition to the artistry of her compositions. I can only imagine her figuring out the light for this photograph, because like many of her other works, the negative spaces and shadows were just as pivotal as the highlights and mid-tones. Her carefully crafted rim of highlights served to add weight to the negative spaces. This is where blacks were so important, and I’m sure she spent many hours in the darkroom emphasizing this look, it wasn’t accidental by any means. Imogen knows blacks.

Not only that, but Imogen studied chemistry in Dresden Germany and her key research had to do with improving the platinum printing process. Printing with a platinum handmade emulsion is part chemistry, part alchemy and in my opinion, part mojo. There is something extremely challenging about working in that media because so many things can go unexpectedly wrong, but when you get it on target, you end up with the most beautiful photographs with a tonality and range of values that today’s digital photographers can only dream of attaining.

Edward Weston, Imogen Cunningham and Ansel Adams were the most well known of the original seven members. They were fierce about breaking out of the painterly, soft-focus romanticized Pictorialist style and presented their own visual aesthetic that was a reflection of the new modernist times.

Pepper Number 30, Edward Weston, 1930

Unfortunately, the modernist times also included the Great Depression, which was in full swing, with poverty and unemployment the norm for most of the country. This was an essential part of what informed the mindset for this f/64 group, that the average person would have to fight for social justice in the land. It’s part of what fueled the radical “Manifesto” part of their identity; it was both rebellious and assertive about hammering out a new paradigm for themselves.

Floating Nude, Edward Weston, 1939. Weston was starting to experiment with spacial values that were nearly surreal, but also wanted to hold onto the realism that Group f/64 developed.

They wanted a style that epitomized what big cameras and high quality lenses were capable of making; they wanted to stretch the capabilities of what photography could offer, including a look that had the entire photograph impeccably sharp from corner to corner with a tonal range that pulled as much out of their film as it could offer, which meant rich blacks, a full range of mid-tones and detail in the highlights.

Aspens, Northern New Mexico, Ansel Adams

In order to capture this new modernist look, they needed lenses that could stop down to f/64 in order to maximize sharpness, especially if camera movements were involved that minimized distortions, hence their name. They also needed to shoot with view cameras, generally either 4×5 or 8×10 if they could afford the larger more expensive film. Part of their photographic workflow included using the large camera that took a great deal of patience and meticulous handling in order to make the careful and studied compositions. They needed the large cameras because the larger film translated to less enlarger magnification, which in turn meant dramatically finer grained prints or almost eliminating film grain altogether.

Dunes, Oceano, Weston 1936

Agave, Imogen Cunningham, 1920's

Van Deren Coke, who used to be the Curator of Photography at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and then later a scholar at the University of New Mexico, described Cunningham’s photographs as “Her inherently sensuous subjects- large graceful flowers, elegant tapered leaves and rounded cacti- were transformed into formal compositions by her emphasis on close-up views, geometric detail and the tendency of shadows to appear as opaque silhouettes in photographs. Cunningham speaks to the beauty of pure geometry in nature… (From “Photography: A Facet of Modernism” P.36).

Van Deren Coke is one of my heroes because he helped establish the Photography Area at the University of New Mexico where I earned my Master of Fine Arts degree and also earned a Van Deren Coke Fellowship as a graduate student.

So how does this Group f/64 body of work stand the test of time 79 years later? Especially as we slip and slide around in the Postmodern zone, where anything goes? I’d say that Group f/64 set a nice standard for photographers and artists who want to break out of outdated conventions, aesthetics and ideas about the creative process. They made it just fine for photographers to let go of the old ways of thinking, especially in troubling times as we are in again with a large scale socio-economic depression of our own. I’m reminded that perhaps it is time for another manifesto that signifies a shift in the social strata of the land, and have it reflected in a new paradigm of art making.

All I really know is that as a photographer, I have an appreciation and gratitude for the beauty of the f/64 work. There came a time back in the late 1990’s where I needed to use a 4×5 camera in a studio with lights and everything. I couldn’t get the look I was looking for with scanned negatives, so I shot on 4×5 Polaroid film and made platinum prints from them because it had a wider tonal range, so I could squeeze out a few additional tones of black. It did the trick, so it was cool that I was able to pull this modernist stuff out of the hat like it was a magic rabbit or something.

Raven asks Pontiac, McNeil, 1998. Made with Polaroid type 55 negative film and a handmade platinum emulsion. I'll have to confess that I was looking for a modernist look with the hood ornament, because I really love that Group f/64 feel, especially when combined with the 19th century platinum printing process. It was a total hybrid.

Ordinarily, the story would end here, but since I’m an artist and photographer first, I thought I’d share what I’m doing with some of these f/64 modernist tools in 2011. I take that back, my Schneider lens only goes to f/45, but that’s plenty good enough for my plan. I just purchased a heck of a camera on eBay, a very cool Wista 4×5 rangefinder field camera. What’s cool about it is that it uses the large format film, but you can use a rangefinder for focusing, which makes it way faster for photographing people. I guess that means I’m not really an f/64 purist, but that’s okay I guess. I’m not the least bit worried about it,but am very excited at the idea of using a 4×5 camera again, because it has that beautiful f/64 look that digital cameras can’t quite squeeze out yet.

Wista RF 4x5 field camera for my next project.

But wait, you haven’t heard it all yet– I have ten boxes of Polaroid Type 55 negative film to use with this. Wow. For you photographic peasants who don’t know what this means, too dang bad, I’ll show the photos in a future entry. But for now, happy 79th year of having the f/64 photographers splash on the scene. Here’s to all of you, bottom’s up, man.

Story by Larry McNeil, Copyright 2011, All Rights Reserved.

Sue Latta is one cool artist. She graduated from our Master of Fine Arts (MFA) program at BSU a few years ago, and in addition to having a busy exhibition calendar and teaching art, she’s been conducting a number of most excellent art workshops.

From the series "Works of Fiction" in her most recent exhibition at the Visual Arts Collective in Boise. In her own words, "This body of work incorporates the photographic image along with various sculptural and recycled materials to create 3-dimensional tableaus.

I am very proud that Sue earned her MFA in our program; she makes art that has a critical relevance to it, is very intriguing and quite beautiful. There is a visceral mystery to her art that only unfolds after spending time with it, almost as if it’s speaking to the intuitive part of your perceptions. There is a also a very intellectual aspect that is very thoughtful and poetic. Go to her site and see for yourself, or better yet, see her art in person the next time she’s having an exhibition.

Sue has been conducting a number of workshops here in Boise at The Sculpture Studio, where her website states, “The Sculpture Studio is a place for learning. We are here to fill the need in our community for a process oriented, skills based education for every level of artist, from the lifelong sculptor to the art curious, and we make it fun!

I’d have to agree with this; I’m a very advanced artist, yet had a LOT of fun and learned some very cool skills about resin casting. I brought my 15-year old son with me and he loved it too. There were six other people at the workshop with various degrees of expertise and I think I can speak for all of us in that we certainly learned what we’d hoped and did indeed have fun.

My little Olympus rangefinder about to be submerged in the molding material. And you wondered why my cameras sometimes look kind of beat up. This is what happens when when cameras go astray...

Yep, that's my camera submerged in there.

My son T'naa getting ready to take his mold apart. Notice his taped up shirt? If you get any of the chemicals on your clothes, it solidifies and breaks. He covered up two holes with the tape.

Sue showing T'naa how to get his resin piece out of the mold.

Sue helping me add just a touch of blue to the resin.

I'm doing a bit of hand jive to add good mojo to the resin.

There was some resin left over from my second piece and it solidified before we could use it up. Oops.

This is a solid. It would look cool on the edge of our table.

The teenage critic gives it a thumbs up.

One of the reasons I took Sue's workshop was because I wanted to make one of my cameras look like ice for a photograph I'm working on.

The bottom of the resin camera is cut off  so that it’ll have the appearance of melting into a puddle. In reality it was a happy accident. I didn’t mix enough of the resin, so the mold was only partially filled, but due to a modicum of synchronicity, it’ll be most efficacious for my stratagem. In other words, due to a bit of hand jive and luck, it’ll work nicely.

Sue Latta, thank you for a great workshop! She has her workshops often throughout the year and are most highly recommended! She has a Kid’s Art Workshop and an Intro to Welding Workshop coming up in June.

Story Copyright Larry McNeil, 2011, All Rights Reserved.

I know today’s April fool’s day, but I swear I did not paste my face into this scene.

This is an actual film still from 1950. Play the film and look at the last five minutes of the film and see for yourself.

One of my favorite pastimes is sharing classic films with my son T’naa. Tonight was Kurosawa’s turn with Rashomon.

Flash backwards to 1950 post-war Japan, five years before I was born. It was a quasi-dark place with a significant part of the country still in ruins from the war. It made perfect sense to shoot it in black & white; Kurosawa was a visionary who was able to capture the essence of his times with this film, even as he pretended to take you even further back in time with his narrative.

A lot of critics didn’t get this part of the story, but that’s ok, they weren’t there. There was a subtle pervasiveness under the surface that had to do with questioning the very essence of what virtue, righteousness, and honor were all about. After all, the omnipresent ravages of WWII were just five years previous to this, and was still very raw in everyone’s psyche and everyday experiences.

Kurosawa sensed the more delicate nuances of this and offered a deep intuitive understanding with his interpretation of what it may have meant. I always thought that his tactic of getting the audience involved by way of having them figure it out was a uniquely insightful approach. One could even make the argument that it was a postmodern approach, but I don’t have enough time to go there for now.

I hardly ever see much written about the last ten minutes of the film, where the three characters find the baby in the ruins and driving rain. All I’ll say about it is that perhaps one gets a different perspective if you’re actually in the scene. The oppressive rain finally stops and the orphan baby was added to the family, even has the Kimono and talisman were stolen. Interesting metaphors. One wonders if perhaps there may be glimmers of innocence, hope and humility over the horizon, but at what price, and who really knows?

My son busted me and saw me (or my twin) in the film tonight. Dang. Oh yes, and that big thing in my garage is not a time machine, it’s just a hydrogen powered refrigeration unit. Do check out the last five minutes of the film and look who’s playing one of the characters.

Rashomon Movie Poster

Story Copyright Larry McNeil, 2011, All Rights Reserved