Archive for the 'Phoenix Series' Category

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Phoenix 22 – 19

Published on March 26, 2010 in Phoenix Series. 6 Comments Tags: "lying to tell the truth", abstract, artist webspace, concept, conceptual, fine art, phoenix 22, photography, tyson crosbie, working artist.

Finished

I shoot on average about 500 images every year for this series. Between shooting and editing I lavish full time attention to walking in downtown Phoenix and documenting for three months. It starts slowly with the final image I shot last year as the aspiration for the first week or two. That soon evolves and becomes something of a variation, an evolutionary step beyond where I was last year. Then it starts to reflect who I am in the moment, a color palette and a theme also begin to take root. It grows into it’s own expression and then I work and obsess until I know it is finished.

So, how do I know when the series is finished for the year?

An evolutionary leap

Everything changes, there is a moment when there is a leap to something completely different, an “ah ha!” moment that breaks the rules and at the same time completes the story. This image was that moment for me this year and for two weeks next year I’ll get back in the groove seeking this idea.

How to participate

Buy a print of this image. Leave a comment on Flickr or Facebook. Follow me on Twitter and share your thoughts about the image below.

Win stuff!

Those that participate the most will win stuff! Up for grabs: a signed copy of Phoenix 22, a Tyson Crosbie Photography Tshirt (morse code), and several signed 5×8 prints.

Phoenix 22 – 18

Published on March 24, 2010 in Phoenix Series. 4 Comments Tags: "lying to tell the truth", abstract, artist webspace, concept, conceptual, fine art, phoenix 22, photography, tyson crosbie, working artist.

Stories

In college I took the last offering of a class called Art Theory at Utah State University, it was taught by a mentor of mine, artist Marion Hyde. He was the first to introduce to me the idea of Organic Unity as applied to art. My favorite story about this class is something he showed the class early on. He presented an early work of Jackson Pollock on the slide projector, and proceeded to spend 20 minutes describing a very personal and seemingly relevant narrative to the forms in the painting. Introducing sentiment by playing on obvious and imaginary possibilities from the forms in the painting. It was very similar to finding meaning in clouds. As the big reveal he admitted to the class that none of what he said was true, he’d just made up the story off the top of his head. This is the great danger of abstraction, and what makes it so accessible and impossible at the same time.

Meaning

I finally get it. I think. Prior to this understanding, I used to be really concerned with the difficulty of translating what I’d meant through color and form alone. I was almost offended that I’d not made work good enough to transcend the obvious barrier between artist and audience. This experience I’d had early in my career would pound in my ears and I’d almost scream: THERE IS NO STORY! I saw the audience missing out on so much of the meaning of a work of art by reducing it to cloud watching. Now I understand. These stories are merely a filter to apply meaning to chaos, and it is perfectly okay.

Frankly I’m surprised it took me this long to have a realization like this. I’ve studied languages before and had the same experience from the other side. Sometimes when viewing new culture or experience from the outside we make compromises in order to make sense of the chaos. As Humans we need to empathize and connect in order to synthesize our experiences. Sometimes that means calling something light, round and quick a bunny. Even when it is obvious that NO bunny has ever graced this place.

So, what do you see?

How to participate

Buy a print of this image. Leave a comment on Flickr or Facebook. Follow me on Twitter and share your thoughts about the image below.

Win stuff!

Those that participate the most will win stuff! Up for grabs: a signed copy of Phoenix 22, a Tyson Crosbie Photography Tshirt (morse code), and several signed 5×8 prints.

Phoenix 22 – 17

Template

“A child could do it.“ It is true, and the majority of people would believe all abstraction is easily duplicated, produced or profound – If someone they trusted told them it was. A child could do this – is also what they told Picasso, Poll0ck and Rothko.

I also believed this and when I started shooting abstract images and I was embarrassed. I wouldn’t tell anyone for fear they’d pick up the camera and start doing the same thing. Seriously, the idea is SO simple.

Now, I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s the fact that I can produce these results anytime I pick up the camera? Or the years of refining my intentions, style and craft? Or maybe there is something to be said for the connection between mind and body, intention and execution? Perhaps, that’s what separates my work from an imitator, template or a child.

After nearly a decade of studying and practicing abstraction, I believe there is a difference and I know it when I see it. When something is true, it just feels right. I also believe you can learn to see the difference – it’s as easy as learning to trust yourself.

How to participate

Buy a print of this image. Leave a comment on Flickr or Facebook. Follow me on Twitter and share your thoughts about the image below.

Win stuff!

Those that participate the most will win stuff! Up for grabs: a signed copy of Phoenix 22, a Tyson Crosbie Photography Tshirt (morse code), and several signed 5×8 prints.

Phoenix 22 – 16

Published on March 22, 2010 in Phoenix Series. 4 Comments Tags: "lying to tell the truth", abstract, artist webspace, concept, conceptual, fine art, phoenix 22, photography, tyson crosbie, working artist.

Observationalist

I photograph by certain rules, rules that define what I do as an artist and who I am.

I am a photographer.
I am classically trained.
I am a purist.
I am an observationalist.
I conceptualize.

I am a photographer, and as such it is very important to me that the images I produce display characteristics of photography; depth of field, exposure, focus, and composition.

Being classically trained means that I worry about archival materials and the history of art. How I will fit within the context of that history, and that my work will endure beyond myself.

I define purity as – the capture of light and respect of the tools that define my medium by adhering to the rules of straight photography. I understand my medium and respect the results that the machine can produce though my understanding of chemistry, physics and mechanics. I do not rely on gimmicks or photoshop.

I observe my world and record it specifically to reflect my own experience. I hope that my experience transcends my single view to inform a broader human condition.

The ideas I wrestle with are external to the straight photography that I present. The question asked challenges representation and the belief that a photograph is a pure language. (A cat = the word “Cat” = a photo of a cat.)

How to participate

Buy a print of this image. Leave a comment on Flickr or Facebook. Follow me on Twitter and share your thoughts about the image below.

Win stuff!

Those that participate the most will win stuff! Up for grabs: a signed copy of Phoenix 22, a Tyson Crosbie Photography Tshirt (morse code), and several signed 5×8 prints.

Phoenix 22 – 15

Published on March 21, 2010 in Phoenix Series. 2 Comments Tags: "lying to tell the truth", abstract, artist webspace, concept, conceptual, fine art, phoenix 22, photography, tyson crosbie, working artist.

Selfishness

There is a challenge in being an abstract expressionist. I’ve become accustomed to abstracting emotion, thought and philosophy into; color, lines and formal relationships within a picture plane. It seems harmless at first, when red is still passion and fast lines are only interesting graphics. Then a whole new world starts to appear and relationships that only I can see start to become the norm. I might seem a little disconnected at times rambling about texture and line speed or making synesthetic connections between worlds. Then when I’m lying on the ground or staring at a wall with my lens inches from it, I might even seem a little crazy.

I used to worry about it, but mostly because I believed my work was a luxury or a selfish extravagance. That I was wasting time pursuing work that didn’t need to be done, on a project that had been done before. Every time I picked up the camera I felt guilty and pressured into believing that: I do art because I love it. I believed, or was coerced, into believing that it served no greater purpose. I’ve come to realize the error of that thinking.

Realization

I’m not doing this for me. I’m an artist for you.

I do it so that you don’t have to endure this level of extreme self reflection, the years of perfecting a craft, and the driving obsession to cram all of our humanity into a rectangle. You get to stand in the gallery and see the crazy, to feel the storm through a safe filter. My purpose really fulfills that niche in our collective experience and offers to share it with the world. I know I am very lucky to be an artist, a thinker and to live in a time where I’m allowed to do this job. Still, I’ve realized this job is not a luxury, it is necessary.

This realization has allowed me a fuller acceptance to the fate of this strange and wonderful experience we call: “Artist.”

Thank you, I’m glad you’re here to share the journey and the discovery with me.

How to participate

Buy a print of this image. Leave a comment on Flickr or Facebook. Follow me on Twitter and share your thoughts about the image below.

Win stuff!

Those that participate the most will win stuff! Up for grabs: a signed copy of Phoenix 22, a Tyson Crosbie Photography Tshirt (morse code), and several signed 5×8 prints.