WORKS ON DIGITAL PAPER

Photo A

Photo B

What makes one photograph of a dirty Mahattan puddle better than another, seemingly identical photograph of a dirty Manhattan puddle? This is question was deposited in my brain at the very moment I was taking the above photographs of a single dirty Manhattan puddle. When I took the photos I was simultaneously on the phone with Kevin, a feat in which I had to warn him that I would not be speaking nor listening to him for a few moments while I switched the phone's functions from phone to camera, which caused him to inquire as to whether I thought I would take photos differently if I did not have bits of trash as my subject matter. I had to think about an answer and while I thought, Kevin told me about David Lodge, an author of much repute and populist leanings, who had his works scanned by a computer looking for the most commonplace non-mechanical word (leaving out the thes, ands, ors, etc.) Apparently his working class leanings drew him toward the word greasy with uncommon consistency. It was then that I thought out loud that I would probably not be affected over much by a change in scenery, that the whole point in taking a photo every day in this capital of dinge is to train the eye to focus more on the compositional elements. That is, how things rest in the middle of the frame, how things rest on the edges, how things interact in a way which makes the photo move. Not long after our conversation, on the subway ride home, I reflected upon the above photos trying to discern which was in fact the better, more successful photograph. At first glance, I thought perhaps Photo 2 improved slightly over Photo 1 in raw compositional quality. Everything a little straighter, everything a little more just so. After a moment I saw that this was wrong. In context, Photo 2 has any no import at all, nothing moves, it is dead on arrival. Photo 1, with its multiple points of possible conflict, slightly extended lines and overlapping triangles offers an image which, relative to the other, shifts ever so slightly, gaining weight on one side only to be shifted back continually by rooted objects within the frame.