Friday Night Out + 1
I thought I'd get in early this year and go and see the finalists of the
2011 Taylor Wessing Photographic Portrait Prize at the
National Portrait Gallery in it's first week of opening. I went on Friday after work and was pleasantly surprised this year. Last year I wasn't particularly thrilled by the finalists. My viewing is usually a 2 stage process. First I go through the exhibit and read every single writeup on every single portrait: it's context and the bio on the photographer. I have a look at the photo but I don't get wrapped up in the experience. I want to learn about the portraits and the photographers who took them. This often involves the very mischievous activity of photographing the writeup on the wall next to the portrait. You're not allowed to take photos but I allow myself the undeserved privilege of relaxing this rule for my own personal gain. Seriously, it's not my fault the print version of the exhibit only contains write-ups for the 5 grand finalists. What else, pray tell, am I to do? Let a golden opportunity to learn about some talented photographers, pass me by? Uh. No.
Strange Foreign Beauty
Once I've done my homework I circle the exhibition again. Yes, a lot like a vulture, sweeping in-between other viewers (with little or no exhibition etiquette - them, not me) and this is when I sense which portraits shake my soul. It's remarkable when it happens. The polite part of my mind says "move on so others can view the portrait". The guilt builds up, but "it's not an actual crime" I remind myself, and so the soul shaking continues. My take on the exhibit is interesting, mainly (for me) because some of the portraits I wouldn't post on this blog, never mind hang them in the National Portrait Gallery. Have a gander at the university portrait with the round frame and you'll understand the term "snap shot". Of course I'm sure the explanation that the subject was trying to re-experience his university days must have swayed the judges, but to me it was an instantly forgettable photograph. If only it really was. I circled a third time and then went up to the Victorian section because I enjoy walking around pretending that I own the place, and am nice enough to let the public in to view my private collection. I really could just move in to the gallery and never leave. #OccupyNPG anyone?
Hot Chef
Because I enjoy street photography and the challenge of capturing the lesser spotted homo sapien unawares, I do tend to find highly staged portraits too contrived to be taken seriously. So when a photographer has spent 6 months attempting to colour the subjects skin like porcelain or they've deliberately thrown a fluffy pink bunny rabbit onto the bed of a teenagers bedroom to make a point, I generally have to fight a gag reflex. No one said viewing photography would be pleasant or easy. Remember that as you fight your way to the front of a crowd only to discover freak photography. That rather popular attempt to win a photography competition by taking an unremarkable photograph of an unfortunate person who's suffered some physical disfigurement, and then passing it off as a great photograph. Would we be looking at this photograph if this woman's nose hadn't been ripped off her face? No. Personally I just see it as exploitation, and I don't think judges should be rewarding photographers for that.
Technicolor
