I found the slide photo above (taken by my father) during a recent visit with my parents. I asked my mom about it.
Photos die, unless we talk about them. Hello. My name is Todd Wemmer. Photosdie.com features audio interviews and field recordings related to photography. I use the term "related" loosely. I might say that everything is about photography. Or photography is about everything. I might also say that this site is really more about the talk that surrounds photography. Or the sounds that surround photography. So I am interested in the talk that surrounds the photograph more than the actual photograph itself. Or something like that. Half journalistic / half qualitative
In a park near our house there is a tank. Iryzk Park. The tank doesn't work (duh). It's just parked there. I guess kids can climb on it. We don't go there very often. The other day my son was near the tank and he heard baby birds. He investigated. We stuck the H2 Zoom near the nest that was wedged way back. Here is Sam talking a bit before the recording of the baby birds.If you are on an iPhone or iPad click HERE to listen.
Claire made this audio project (last year) in my class (podcast journalism). Check it out.
I'll write about this later. Or now. This is from the very first website I ever tried to make. It was just a html site made in Dreamweaver (I think) to share family photo galleries (before all the other programs that do that now). I took a few of the photos and made this animated .gif. Featured: My grandfather (deceased), my father (deceased), my mother, my aunt, my grandmother. . . I found this by using The Way Back Machine. I wonder why the animated .gif went away. Or they didn't. You can still make them. They are like Flash Bulb memory objects. Watch it. Close your eyes. Which image stayed in your mind. Here is something from a draft of something I'm writing:
Massaro and Loftus (1996) remind in a review of literature on sensory and perception storage, “that the perceptual experience of a briefly presented visual stimulus outlasts the stimulus itself (68). According to Massaro and Loftus, proving this is quite easy. Present a “visual stimulus” for a flash of time proceeded by complete darkness. The “naïve” viewer believes that the physical stimuli is fading, when the image disappearing act is actually a “mental” activity (68).
This is something I say to my kids. Or my kids say to me.
I say: How much do I love you?
They say: More than all the pictures you take.
What do photographers have to say about taking photographs after they become mothers and fathers. This is an opportunity to explore: personal photographic style and / or technique (maybe it's the burden of personal photographic style) once children come along. Or is it just a time to leave the camera home? Is there an expectation from relatives and friends that the photographs of your children will match the complexities (and look) of your artistic work. I know many of you have thought about this. And I know I can be more academic in my description (gaze! authorship! Freud! gender! ) but we can leave that for later. I'd like to start as I start many of my projects these days. . . with a phone number and voice mail. You call in your thoughts. I edit and make it sound like pure gold. The more calls the better. My students just completed a project about music. They got family to call in about songs that make you cry." More on this and the phone number soon.
Or what about when mothers and fathers become photographers ("When I became a mother, I also had to learn how to be a photographer.") That might be an a completely different topic. . . More on this later.
I love you more than all the pictures I take.
2005, Dennis, MA.
I recently found this little clip of me taking photos of my grandmother. This is probably from 1998ish. Was using light meter and Mamiya. One of the resulting photographs above in frame. I'm also trying this Vimeo out.
photographing my grandmother from todd wemmer on Vimeo.
I went out with my kids to Marblehead lighthouse this afternoon. I took a bunch of photos on a little snapshot camera. When I went to download the photographs this evening, I could not find the camera. I did the usual turn over the house. . . flashlight under the car seat. Nothing. I then remembered right before we left the lighthouse that I slipped and fell. So at about 9:00 I drove out to the lighthouse with a flashlight. It was there. Right where I slipped. Frozen to the ground. Still works. Everything is fine. As many say when they lose a camera (see lostandfoundphotos.org) I don't care about the camera. . . I just want the photos. Here is one of the photos that I thought of when I didn't think I'd find the camera. There they are walking up to the lighthouse in the snow.
Marblehead Lighthouse photos on Flickr HERE
My dissertation examines perceptions and practices surrounding lost-and-found photographs. I invited people to call in stories to be posted on a blog I set up. You can see and hear it HERE.
My grandmother was my first caller. I was testing the whole voice mail system and knew my grandmother had a story. I asked her to call it in. She did. What was important about her telling (besides the story) is that when I heard it, I felt that she wasn't telling me the story. . . She was telling it to a much larger audience. That was important. I wanted the calls to be for visitors of the site. . . not for me. I also believe (as many have written about) that telling stories and having them heard is a positive experience for many. I know that it has been for my grandmother.
I've posted a few autobiographical audio pieces since I started this blog/podcast (what is this?). Here is another one. At the beginning of the summer I posted a recording of me telling my kids (and their response) how I dropped a camera in the ocean. This is a very short recording of one of our last beach explorations. And I have to say that this recording, years and years from now, might be / will be more precious than any photograph I've taken of my children. Audio is so underestimated as a medium for documenting family. Go online and check out Jay Allison's Lost and Found Sound.
Also David Frohlich's Audiophotography should be read by all interested in photography and / or audio. HERE is a direct link to Amazon and the introduction of his book. I love it. "Your own house probably has its own distinctive sounds that will change according to the context in which they are heard." Frohlich also talks about the sounds of the ocean and children playing. I think David Frohlich would like this recording.
