Snapped From A Book #1
This inaugurates the #snappedfromabook hashtag that will be populating this blog.
I could spend an eternity at the Strand Bookstore (or any bookstore for that matter) browsing. Most of the time I go there and wander through the aisles aimlessly, waiting to be surprised. Sometimes I make an assessment about what subject matter/author/particular field of study is of particular interest in that given moment, and I make a byline for the store’s section likely to satiate that momentary curiosity. So far, this method has paid dividends.
On the second floor—where all of the art books are located—I found a table featuring stacks of Henry Carroll’s book Read This If You Want To Take Great Photographs. Certain titles are like fucking catnip to me. I wanted to purchase the book immediately, and then I remembered I’d already spent $50 on books a couple of days before—not to mention the heaps of unread books occupying my bedroom and the basement of my parents’ house—did I really need to buy one? No.
The next best thing—a way to reign in impulsive book purchases while having the benefit of possessing its wisdom (I have to really think about this statement after I finish writing this post)—is to snap a photo of a desired book’s page in which the most resonant passage(s) appears. In this case, the block-quoted text on the page supports how I feel about picture making: it’s the photographer, stupid. As long as a photographer can manipulate the camera to accurately render her vision, camera technicalities are of secondary importance.
Therein lies the central paradox of art-making, does it not? The tools used to make your art matter, but it doesn’t.