Tyson Crosbie

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.

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.

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.