Plein Air Portraiture
Before you can even comment, trust me I get it. Plein Air Portraiture sounds a little bit (or maybe a lot) pretentious. But sometimes you need to find the right words to suggest a context or convey an intent, a reason to linger and give something a second thought.
Portraiture in photography is nothing new and the first photograph ever taken, “View from the Window at Le Gras”, taken in 1826 by Joseph Niepce, was a nature scene viewed from a window. Within ten years the technology improved to such a degree that photographers began to capture images of people. Studio portraiture exploded in popularity and the notion that portrait = images of people generally captured in static poses, became ubiquitous markers of the important events in our lives.
In parallel with these developments, other paths to artistic expression developed away from the rigid, unrealistic depictions of people that had been the standard for centuries. Impressionist painters in the 1800’s began experimenting outdoors, developing techniques for capturing direct, plein air observations of their world. Photography technique continued along an analogous development path, where documentary photography began to capture portraiture outdoors as well. Think of some of the photos taken during the Civil War, the dust bowl years, or more recently during the early days of the civil rights struggle, as prominent examples.
So, despite the breadth and sophistication of imagery in the art world, I think I have a fundamental problem with “seeing”, and I don’t think I’m alone in this. I can visit an art museum or turn through the pages of a documentary photography book and in the moment, feel a huge range of emotional reaction to the images. From joy, laughter and inspiration to sorrow, revulsion and anger, the reactions feel visceral and painfully real. But, exit the museum or close the book and re-enter the day to day world and that sense of awareness and enlightened vision is checked at the door. Am I still sensitively aware of a homeless person in the doorway, an abandoned store front or the line in front of the food pantry? I’m guessing you already know the answer, and it might make you feel a little uncomfortable.
But, for argument’s sake, let’s assume you don’t believe you have a problem with seeing. Here’s a simple test, try this and then re-consider your answer. Imagine in your mind, taking a drive along some of the usual streets you travel regularly. In many communities a lot of properties are enclosed by walls of brick, stone, block or other materials. To relieve that depressing starkness, developers often plant a random scattering of plants along and close to those barriers. First, try to conjure up an image any one of those plants in detail. What colors do you see? How tall or full is the plant? Does it appear healthy or withered and neglected? Does it stand alone or are there props in your mind’s eye vision that enhance the picture? Can you even remember seeing any plants along your way?
Next, take a look at the images I posted in the Plein Air Portraiture Gallery section. I took my own test and then went out to try to take portraits of some of those roadside plants that I typically never notice. I tried to take portraits, reminiscent of carefully staged studio photographs, that give as much justice to the beauty and individuality of these plants as you would expect from a wedding or baby portrait, for example.
So, how did your mind’s eye picture compare with my plein air portraits? For me, the answer and conclusion is stark and clear. “Seeing”, for me, is as elusive as mindfulness. Now, if I can only get as comfortable with a path forward as I am with adjusting the shutter speed or f-stop on my camera, I might have something to be really, seriously proud of.