I do find
it strange that being raised protestant (okay, being protestant) I find so much to photograph in
Catholic churches—or that the photographs in Catholic churches raise so many
questions. The main one is ‘why did I do that’.
Actually, that’s the main question to most of my photography.
Actually, that’s the main question to most of my photography.
I was originally very disappointed with my efforts at St
Louis Cathedral. It seemed that I had wasted a great opportunity. On a deeper
examination, maybe I didn’t do as badly as first thought.
I don’t know that I came away with a single photograph that is
really worthwhile (okay, I really don’t believe that but had to say it to give
the appearance of being much more humble than I actually am). I very much like
the photograph of the crucifix. I find the photograph of the prayer candles
with the saint very interesting. Being protestant I do not understand saints,
or asking intersession from a saint. I may mention God or Christ in a prayer
but never Mary. I am sure there are people that do understand and I will have
to believe that as being right for them. In the end, I am maybe not excited but
pleased in spite of my original reservations.
Most photographers seem to be satisfied with accepting
photography as a recording medium, on occasion even I do. But it is much more
interesting to ask yourself why, what drew me to taking a particular photograph
beyond the fact that everyone else takes pictures of whatever it is so it must
be a good subject to photograph. For instance, why do I photograph in Catholic
churches? Why do I photograph in churches period?
Okay, I am off on another Woodard tangent. It all started
with thinking about this photograph. At one time this image was mostly green.
When it was originally a very warm tone with mostly normal contrasts, why did I
make it green? Why did I decide to change it to more neutral colors, almost
like spot color? And, why did I decided to take the photograph when a woman in
white shorts was walking down the aisle. I would never consider going into a
church in shorts. I could have waited until the aisle was clear or until a more
suitable subject came into the area.
This discussion has to begin with the premise that ‘today’ I
like the way the photograph/photographs were taken; I like the way they are
processed. That does not mean that I will like the same tomorrow. I find that
the first processing of many of my photographs is much harsher than I end up
liking. Even that prompts Why? A lot get reprocessed at a later date. Many of
the photographs from St Louis have been processed very harshly; meaning lots of
darks, lots of contrast. That in itself prompts the question ‘Why would I
process a photograph taken in a church harshly?’ Would I process a photograph
taken in a protestant church the same way? Because I have been dealing with the question for a very long time I believe I understand why I often tend to
process photographs of the crucifix harshly or radically but I am not sure that
I understand much beyond that.
For some reason I was attracted to the two cherubs that
stood on either side of the center aisle. Must have been because I did a number of photographs. Alcy
tells me they hold the Holy Water. I was interested in the cherubs in relation
to the altar, the aisle and even the people walking down the aisle. A few of
them I processed but like many of the photographs from St Louis the finished
image does not look similar to what you see when you are standing there looking
at them. Some I played with color, some I played with light, some I played with
tones. Did I create images that say more than simple documentation? That is for
someone else to answer. I know that I enjoy the questions the images bring to
mind.
My photographs ask me many questions that I am not sure that
I have any idea of the correct answer. Maybe it is because I sincerely believe
that questions are more important than answers. Much of life is wasted because
we have the correct answer to the wrong question. Unless it is the right
question the answer is totally useless. Besides that, finding the right
question is much more interesting, and more difficult, than finding the answer.
Of these two photographs of the crucifix on a side wall, one
is processed much as it appeared, possibly a little warmer than the naked eye
would see, but close to ‘realistic’; the other as I would process for content.
Of course I like the second one better because, as I see it, it is the
difference between documenting the appearance of an object, the crucifix, and attempting
to create context, in this case the darkness of the world, the suffering of
Christ on the cross and emphasis of hope in the light from above. The crucifix
is a beautiful object of art and in itself has great symbolism but why not use
that beauty and symbolism for a more personal goal? I wanted to say for a
higher purpose but I am not sure that everyone other than myself would see it
as a higher purpose—but it cannot be denied that is a more personal purpose.
I discovered in 2007 when I first photographed the missions
in San Antonio that I enjoy playing with the concept of darkness and the light
coming out of darkness when photographing in a church. That plays into two of
the photographs from St Louis: the one of the crucifix with the light shining
from above the head of Christ and in the photograph of the chandelier where there
is not only the bulbs of the chandelier providing light in the darkness but the
windows behind that appear door shaped like possible portals out of the
darkness.
Maybe I am the only one that gets these weird associations
but that is okay. It is why I take photographs. In probably eighty percent of
my photographs I have no desire to show how something looks. I am interested in
learning how I see something with the possibility that might suggest to someone
else something about how they see things. Does it work? Probably not for anyone
but me. That is a little negative but I do know that if it had not been for
this weird approach I would have given up photography many years ago. If you
want to know how something looks go look at it, don’t waste time photographing
it.
Joan of Arc and a Crusader speak of the militaristic aspects
of the church. To a protestant they are both strange décor for a place of
worship. Historically interesting, beautifully crafted works of art, but a strange
degree of reverence.
I wanted to emphasize two aspects of the image: the opulence and majesty of the altarpiece and the relative insignificance of the two figures along with some of the metaphorical connotations I find.
Of course it begins with the strong contrasts between
light and dark, symbolically good and evil. The lights and darks are almost
equal in volume denoting a lack of dominance, a struggle. At the top we have
blues, symbolically looking up, heavenly, peaceful, and optimistic. Then we
have white for purity, golds—the most incorruptible of metals, brightness,
light, inspiration, value. Then below,
the darkness and browns of earth and the ways of the world surrounding the two
almost hidden figures; one of which is dressed in red the color associated with
desire, lust, possibly sinfulness or maybe the shed blood of Christ. The
smallness of the figures allows them, within the context of this image, to be
over powered by the opulence, majesty and simply by the much larger volume given
to their surroundings. Okay, you don’t see it and you’re throwing the flag on
the call. That’ okay. Just trying to explain why I take photographs.
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