Exercise: A studio portrait

I found my experimentations with studio lighting to be a very interesting process. It took me quite a while to get my head around the physics, when I was trying to create specific effects. Definitely need regular practice and to adopt a way of being able to experiment with sitters without looking like an amateur.

Before the shoot I followed the recommended tutorial about the various ‘standard’ lighting styles for portraits and made rough sketches. Luckily, the studio had a chequered rug so I was able to calculate the angles a bit more accurately. Trial and error prevailed as always.  The tutorial makes the point that it is often not very flattering to shoot face on, especially women, so the photographer will often have the sitter turn slightly to one side of the camera.

The studio equipment included a large octagon softbox (200 cm) with a 200 w flash, two narrow beam strip boxes with 300 w bulbs, a small octagon softbox and a small light with a snoot. I also used a silver reflector and a large piece of polystyrene painted black on one side to reduce reflection from the white walls.  The large octagon was useable as a key light and a fill light by changing the power settings.

These two images show what a difference a reflector can make:

As usual, even though I took several lenses, I only ended up using one (24-70mm) for the whole shoot which was a bit daft!  I kept my camera on f8 to ensure focus from front to back, with a speed of 1/125 and ISO 100. I bumped up the ISO when it needed a little more exposure rather than changing shutter speed in order to avoid problems with the sync, as evidenced in these shots (when I forgot briefly how a dSLR works):

The studio was quite small and contained a lot of equipment so I had to be careful about tripping over things and touching hot lights.  The model was tall and so I spent some of the shoot up a ladder to be at eye-level or higher.


Split lighting

This is for dramatic or moody shots and is more likely to be used in ads, music photography or fine art than in commercial portraiture.  It may be used to imply evil or duplicity. More likely to work well with men than women. The source is 90 degrees to the left or right of the subject.


I found it quite difficult to get any light in the eye on the dark side and the possibility of this will depend on the physiognomy of the sitter.

I think for this subject it worked better in black & white or desaturated/cold tone to add to the drama and I really liked the effect actually.


Loop lighting

The source should be 30-45 degrees from the camera and higher than eye-level. The effect is for a small loop of shadow to one side of the nose but one which does NOT touch the shadow from the cheek. There is also defined line shadow under the chin the give shape to the jaw.


This was initially tricky as the sitter had a dark moustache which obscured the size of the nose loop. A good effect though and one which would suit many faces. The lesson here was to look very critically at all the shadows being cast and decide if they are flattering or distracting.

Rembrandt lighting

This technique results in a triangle of light on the darker cheek of the subject as seen in some of Rembrandt’s portraits. The sitter needs to be turned slightly away from the light and with a high light source, much like Rembrandt’s window.


This is lovely subtle lighting but with some atmosphere still. It is flattering for people with good cheekbones but may not work as well if the nose is very small as the shadow below should meet the cheek shadow. I seem to have cheated a little with this model as he has a black moustache which can give the impression of a classic Rembrandt but it worked well when he smiled.

Butterfly lighting

The technique should give a small butterfly-shaped shadow under the nose and light sculpting shadows under the cheeks and chin. The source should be behind and above the camera and is used in glamour shots or for older subjects to soften lines.  It works best for sitters with slimmer faces.


Again this was difficult to see properly due to the model’s moustache. We had to test lots of different heights and power levels for the large key light and eventually concluded it did not work too well for this subject’s face and skin tones.

Broad lighting

With this technique the subject is turned away from the camera with the ‘broad’ side nearest in most light. This can widen the appearance of the face and commonly used in a high key approach.


I think I should have added a little bit of fill light on the other side to give some definition to the full face.


Short lighting 

This is the opposite of broad with the side of the face towards the camera being in more shadow.  I particularly liked this effect with this model as I think it presented his face well and was more interesting to look at than the ‘broad’ approach which is probably more intuitive in a natural light scenario.


After working through these basic – but distinct and labelled – approaches, I experimented with ways to accentuate the model’s physique. I played with using a rim-light and then building from one light up to having five, placed strategically around the sitter.



One of the best aspects of the full light set was a brighter background which gave depth and a more professional look to the shoot.  I realised afterwards that I should have experimented with a white background to get a sense of the hardness of the shadows and the fall off.






Things I have learned

  • Tether the camera (or use wifi if possible) to a laptop to be able to see the results better immediately. I didn’t do this as I wanted to have freedom to move around in what was a small space full of equipment and I regret that decision now.  The modelling lights can give an indication of how things will look but nothing like the final effect.
  • Next time I get access to a studio I would like to experiment with different lenses and using wider apertures.
  • Some make-up might have been useful as there was a sheen on the model’s forehead for some of the lighting configurations.
  • Every face is different and experience/practice will help me to be able to anticipate which lighting set-ups will work best for each individual and suit the objectives of the shoot.
  • Look very carefully and critically at all the patterns of light and shadow being cast. At the time I thought everything looked good but with close inspection some effects have worked better than others.
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Reflection – February 2017

The last few weeks have been rather tough as I have been trying to stay positive about the apparent lack of progress in finding a suitable job. The search is incredibly time-consuming and, although all necessary, it feels like many hours are being wasted every day.  Meanwhile our savings are dwindling and the money will have run out completely by May.

I have sensed that familiar depressing feeling of losing my photography ‘mojo’ but, luckily, committing to taking at least one photograph every day has kept me moving, albeit slowly and often unimpressively.  When I can bring myself to study properly, it is a wonderful escape from the crushing combination of fear and isolation which comes with unemployment.

The Portraits module is surprisingly challenging as I am having to work hard not to rehash my usual, rather haphazard, approaches to shooting people.  I am currently obsessing on a large range of ideas for assignment three and trying not to let the logistics put me off following a specific path. Some of the ideas involve not following the brief very closely which is very appealing but I will (perhaps?) need to be careful not to go too far off piste.

My research has been leading me down the rabbit hole again. Just catching up on some of the posts on the OCA Student Forum set me off. I found myself thinking about Proust and the multiplicity of perspectives. Somehow I got to iridescence and started thinking how I could incorporate that in my portraiture. Confused myself by reading a bit of Gilles Deleuze, pondered Mono no aware for a while, learned about the concept of Weltschmerz, spent some time considering the work of Valérie Belin, wasted some time trying – and failing – to get my head around quantum theory and then got lost in a forum about Vince Gilligan choosing Heisenberg as Walter White’s alias in Breaking Bad because of the Uncertainty Principle.  I really enjoyed some of the thoughts in this essay, particularly the conclusion:  “So art becomes a journey, a shamanic descent into the underworld, where what was past becomes present and the pilgrim, like Orpheus, learns the tongues of animals, trees and stones. Art explores the older and inner levels of reality.”  After all that, I had fun learning why the A-sizes of paper are the sizes that they are.  Fascinating stuff.

Sad to see Ren Hang has died, with rumours that he took his own life and that his depression had been “intensified by global political instability” [via BBC]. He was a huge talent and not afraid to be provocative, sharing his work openly on social media and facing consequences for it in China.  Easy for me to say from a safe environment in London but: artists should always be brave and now more than ever.

I am not really prone to depression but I have felt more down about the state of the world since the Brexit vote and the rise of Twitler and his cohorts than I ever have in my life. I’d like to think I could channel this – as Carrie Fisher urged: “take your broken heart, make it into art” – but these are such extraordinary times, I am still reeling.


My conclusion to today’s reflections, as always: make more work.  Things will get better.



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Exercise: Outdoor portraits

I have rather learnt the hard way for this area of photography.  There are countless examples of me trying to get portraits in the wrong kind of outdoor light: faces screwed up in the sunlight, horrible shadows under the nose, burnt out highlights, irretrievable shadows etc etc

Reflectors have saved my work on more than one occasion and I am a big fan.

I worked through this exercise when studying People and Place – some of the results can be seen in my blog here: http://helenphotography.blogspot.co.uk/2010/08/exercise-3-experimenting-with-light.html  and I don’t feel I need to repeat it at this stage.

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Exercise: The Night Watch

Rembrandt’s painting known as The Night Watch (1642) is a fascinating masterpiece which offers insights to photographic portraiture. This group portrait, commissioned by Frans Banning Cocq and financed by him and a number of other individuals in the painting, breaks with tradition of static military portraits.

The nickname of the painting is misleading as it is, in fact, set during the day and is of a militia company which would not have been active. The painting had become very dark over the decades due to dirt and varnish but has now been restored.

Background: this is still quite dark – especially considering it is a day time scene – but we can make out some architecture which speaks to the civic pride element of the painting. The canvas is huge (originally 13′ x 16′ although trimmed down in 1715 to fit into a specific space in Amsterdam’s town hall) and the figures are more or less life size, which makes the lofty space above the crowd even more impressive. We are drawn into the scene from which the characters emerge, leading from darkness towards light.

Pose: FBC is central and confident but seemingly benevolent as he strides forward. Lieutenant Willem van Ruytenburch looks at FCB as he walks by his side.  Other individuals are engaged in various activities – the most prominent with muskets –  and looking in different directions. There is a pleasant sense of democracy and comradery. These are men of action and the energy is palpable.

Clothes: these are more ceremonial than practical. FCB is in black for maximum gravitas but with a red sash and white ruff centre front of the image. WvR is in cream, radiating light and goodness balanced by the female ‘mascot’. Another man wears red and the black clothes and white ruff of FCB is balanced on the right by another man looking out of the scene.

Props: the long staffs create diagonals and converging lines to lead the eye and enhance the dynamism of the scene. The weapons remind us this is a military portrait and all the formal trappings of the troupe are included. There is even a dog barking at the cropped drummer to add sound to this lively image.

Lighting: Rembrandt is, of course, famous for his use of tenebrism, chiaroscuro and the use of ‘rushlight‘ to create interesting and appealing paintings. These strong contrasts make the figures strongly 3D and allow a sense of depth but without the scene being impossibly busy. The use of pools of light leads our eye to various elements to create a narrative. There is a clear hierarchy. Some men are more flooded with light than others.The main light source is coming from sunlight on the left of the scene which is so bright that FBC’s hand casts a shadow on WvR (pointing to his compadre’s … er… Cocq?). There is light on all the faces and especially bright is the mascot girl who wears the symbols of the company (chicken claws). With a right to left reading, the light source could signify past glories that still illuminate the subjects.


Unfortunately neither of the links in the OCA course notes for this exercise are working but David Saffir and Sally Wiener Grotta were mentioned as having been inspired by The Night Watch in their photography. In other videos they have talked about how they use light and shadow to create structure as well as mood. The chiaroscuro sculpts a scene to focus our attention where it matters, whilst creating texture and movement. They expose for the subject and do not worry about the shadows.  An HDR proponent’s nightmare.  A key thing with portraits is the human connection and Saffir and Grotta believe that this is most powerful in a ‘luminous moment’. The choice of “local lighting” can transform a scene.

My dutch friend Karina van Berg, a lighting expert, says the aim is always “to make it round”. This dimensionality is crucial to Rembrandt’s scene. Karina and her team actually once recreated The Night Watch on a film set. That is her between the FCB and WvR characters.


Key learnings:

  • Think proactively about how light and line can activate a scene
  • A tenebristic approach creates dimensionality as well as drama
  • Consider whether the direction of the light provides meaning (right to left readings, past to future) and what impact the quality will have





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Portrait photography – initial explorations

This Gesture&Meaning-induced exploration into Portrait photography is fascinating, so far. I thought it was the genre I understood the best and the one that is, in some ways, the most straightforward but I am finding this is not so.

There is in fact an endless mystery around portraiture: why do some images have impact and others less so? How do we reveal the truth about someone? Does it matter if we don’t? If portrait photography is not just about capturing someone’s likeness, what is it about? Why should the relationship between the photographer and the sitter be important when some street ‘portraits’ can be so powerful?  What can we learn about someone from what we cannot see?

Clarke asks: “in what sense can a literal image express the inner world and being of an individual before the camera?” [1] My early attempts at self-portraiture have revealed how problematic this area is, not least because of the perplexing nature of identity and subjectivity and our public and private personae.

We are guided for analysis purposes to consider the various elements of a portrait:

  • Is the subject known, familiar (ie a public figure) or unknown
  • Pose/gesture
  • Clothes
  • Props
  • Background/location
  • Lighting
  • Exposure
  • Meaning

The interpretation will be subjective and can change.

My personal tastes attract me to a ‘wabi-sabi’ aesthetic. I don’t think this is nostalgia as I have no love for sepia but the collodion process, with its tremendous tonal range, appeals very much. These images by Michael Schaaf are good examples.

Schaaf, incidentally, killed himself in 2016. Even though he was a professional photographer, running workshops for the Fox Talbot Museum at Lacock, the local newspaper headline announced “Tourist found hanged at beauty spot” which seems like a terrible reduction of his existence.

Could we see that Schaaf was suicidal from his portrait?


Diane Arbus was convinced suicide could be seen on the faces of Monroe and Hemmingway.  Geoff Dyer: “Arbus’s belief in the prophetic power of photography was derived in part from Bill Brandt who, in turn, derived it from André Breton. Commenting on the ‘sadness’ in the eyes of the actress Josephine Smart (whom he photographed in 1948) Brandt felt that ‘the photographer’s aims should be a profound likeness, which physically and morally predicts the subject’s entire future.’ But while Arbus believe that there were ‘things which no one else would see unless I photographed them’, Brandt put the emphasis not on what he could see but on what his wooden Kodak camera could see; ‘instead of photographing what I saw, I photographed what the camera was seeing’.” [2] Dyer goes on to explain that Brandt bought his camera in a second-hand shop and later learned that it had been used by Scotland Yard for police records.

I probably should dig out some snaps of the people I have known who have taken their own lives to see what I – or someone else – can see.


For my own work, I am keen to explore less literal representations of my subjects and I wonder where are those boundaries? I am thinking of O’Keeffe’s ‘indirect portraits’ of Stieglitz showing just glimpses of the red lining of his coat, perhaps inspired by Gertrude Stein’s ‘word portraits’ and attempts at verbal cubism. At what point does an image become – or cease to become – a portrait?


Self-portrait by me, in the eye of a stray cat, snapped on my phone on the way to the shops…

Tagg says: “Heads and shoulders, as if those parts of our bodies were our truth.” [3]

In the early stages of this part of the course, I have been keeping an open mind and looking at as many portraits as possible. Here are a few that have particularly stood out for me.


Bjork by Laurence Passera, 2004.  On one level, the pose is almost sculptural with the curved neck and wistful look evoking classic renaissance beauty. No clothes are revealed but the braids symbolise a chaste and timeless femininity. The lighting is bright and soft with little contrast giving smooth and impossible skin tones. The subject is perfect, goddess-like, perhaps slightly haughty and unattainable. But the distortion changes everything of course. Not only is the beauty broken up and undermined but we see the suggestion of layers or a mask. This person is multi-faceted, unpredictable, unique. She is a visionary artist.


John Kerry by Alex Majoli, 2016. The pose is contemplative, humble, perhaps a bit weary but dignified. His clothes are smart but not flashy; well-tailored, conservative but with some rebellion – certainly not sombre. The lighting is subtle and feels quite natural. The subject is backlit as if he’s being driven forward by his responsibilities. He quietly walks the halls of government, surrounded by history and protocol. The men in the paintings seem to watch him go and smile. The overlap of the wall (or pillar) on the left hand painting creates a slight claustrophobia, accentuating the narrowness of the space, as if the work is never-ending and inescapable.This is a man of power and of action. He has stamina, dedication; he represents his office and his duties well. He will take his place in history.


Army veteran Jose Martinez by Balazs Gardi, 2016 (from an article in TIME about marijuana use to cope with PTSD and pain).  The pose is strong, almost rigid – he is smoking with purpose. Our view is drawn to where the hand and mouth meet and the vertical lines of the left arm are echoed but distorted in the nearside T-shirt sleeve, accentuating the stump. We glimpse the left knee, slightly raised and then become aware of the absence of a right leg. The clothes are casual and simple but evoke an active, almost macho, existence, albeit aspirational now.  For props, we can just discern a prosthetic leg nearby.  A large, prominent tattoo like his would be common in the military but also feels slightly threatening here. This should be a comfortable space but the black leather and dark wallpaper is quite sinister. Black and blue and smoky. The lighting is natural and bright around the window but diffused through the blinds. This accentuates the depth and complexity of the scene. The subject seems to be sinking into his plush sofa but he is not relaxed. This is no casual pothead. He is living a difficult existence, disconnected from the outside world – stuck inside with no view and restricted movement, surrounded by deep, dark shadows.

Mark Rylance photographed in New York on March 21, 2016.

Mark Rylance by Peter Hapak, 2016. The pose is alert and confident but gentle and warm. His clothes reveal an artistic soul, not afraid to be decorative – even a bit feminine – and stand out from the crowd. The lighting and creamy cast is decorative too; whilst not too harsh, it is hard enough to show the character in the subject’s face and the evidence of a life richly lived. We can tell this is a very unusual, charismatic person – perhaps a muse or an inspiration to some. He is relaxed in his own skin but active and focussed.



  1. Clarke, G. (1997) The photograph: A visual and cultural history. New York: Oxford University Press (p 101)
  2. Dyer, G. (2012) The ongoing moment: A book about photographs. Edinburgh: Canongate Books. (p60-61)
  3. Tagg, J. (1988) The burden of representation: Essays on photographies and histories. Basingstoke, Hampshire: Macmillan Education (p35)


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William Kentridge, Whitechapel Gallery 13.1.17

This is a stunning exhibition which I am glad to have visited before it closed.  The energy and scale is hard to put into words but it was a very immersive, almost hypnotic, experience with some elements of the steampunk aesthetic and the powerful impact of music with the imagery.


Kentridge uses drawings, often in charcoal, as the basis for much of his work but then extends this with sculpture, film, music, puppetry and the spoken word.  His subject matter is vast and complex, centred around the title Thick Time.  The show spiel explains that the measurement of time, space and light has evolved in tandem with the control and exploitation of global resources and peoples.

As a South African artist, he is concerned with ideas of colonialism, identity and exile but all underpinned with the Utopian idea that time can flow both ways, fate can be eluded. We see scribbles and erasure and leaves and paper tape being blow around and disappearing. There are many glimpses of the process of the work which become part of the final output.

Some of the music has a strong Tom Waits/Kurt Weill vibe and with the declared influences of Francisco de Goya, Max Beckmann, George Grosz, Käthe Kollwitz, this work is like a dark carnival. The silhouette parade at the end of “Refusal of Time” was just stunning, as was the eerie but strangely comforting “Here I am” voiceover as part of an exploration of the Theory of Relativity.

The artist has talked in interviews about how important it is for him to collaborate and the teams involved with the installations are all clearly name checked on the walls.  He draws inspiration from all quarters and the results are immense.




  • The drama of the music/metronome rhythms and how that enhances the imagery (similar to Eamonn Doyle/David Donohoe – END)
  • Text and drawings over dictionary pages; using text pages as a canvas
  • Use of filmed flipbooks to show a large number of images working together
  • Stop motion collage
  • Almost all monochrome with the use of black tape echoing thick black brushstrokes and charcoal lines
  • Influence of constructivism and expressionism – dramatic and unusual angles
  • ‘Vertical Thinking’, ‘Leap Before You Look’, ‘Her Absence Filled The Whole World’
  • Use of self as model and actor
  • Torschlusspanik: the idea that time is running out. Literal meaning = fear of a gate closing so often associated with midlife crisis.  Similar to Ultima Forsan
  • Kentridge: “Art is vital. It is one of the ways we construct who we are. In the books we read, in songs we hear, we find either affirmations of impulses we’ve had or find new things. But there’s a way one can describe the biography by all these cultural, ephemeral experiences that we’ve had the consolidate who we are. And there’s a great strength that comes from those connections of what it is to not feel on your own, to feel other points of understanding, commonality.”  This is a great reminder not to be afraid of making very personal work. I often think no one will be interested but actually I should always remember my sage tutor’s advice: if it resonates with you, it will resonate with someone else too.  The sense of commonality cannot be second-guessed and must be authentic.


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Reflection – December 2016

At the end of August, we went to Arles and then to Paris. We had a wonderful time. We came home and I had a five day ‘staycation’ to work on my OCA studies. It was glorious. I felt relaxed and happy and totally immersed in photography and art.

On Sunday the 11th of September, in the course of my usual Alice-in-Wonderland down-the-rabbit-hole style of research, I read this article about how illness can improve creativity.  I confess I was quite ready to be convinced by the notion of “not merely renewed but elevated mental and creative faculties coming out on the other end of a physically and mentally draining stretch”.  I remember thinking, that fated afternoon, how I could really do with something like that to kickstart my seemingly burnt-out brain. I was imagining sitting in a well-cushioned steam chair, under a fluffy blanket, bathed in Autumn sun, in the beautiful grounds of a a luxury sanatorium, reading Barthes and finally understanding everything.

A few hours later I had a temperature of 40.2, intense rigors and was vomiting violently. Four months on, I have not been able to return to work, have spent weeks in hospital, had major abdominal surgery to remove a giant cyst from my spleen and I am still recuperating.

So yeah, be careful what you wish for…

It has been difficult to make the most this time I have been given. I have been battling with feelings of depression and financial anxiety and the frustration of not being able to do normal things. But I think I am finally getting physically well enough to tackle some studying again.

As a gentle kickstart, here are some random things that have caught my eye recently…

This was a happy story.  I finally managed to get hold of a DVD of Searching for the Wrong Eyed Jesus, directed by Andrew Douglas, and am looking forward to watching it.

Still catching up on the many projects documenting the migrant crisis.  One of the most interesting for me is Seba Kurtis’ Heartbeat. The title refers to the capability of the police to detect even the heartbeat of a mouse in the lorries crossing into the UK. “I photographed some of the guys being held at detention centres using a really long exposure, so the film comes back completely blank. Then in Photoshop I pushed the levels up to reveal the information in the image, in the same way that the heartbeat detector reveals the information inside the tanker.”  [1]  The images provide a metaphor for the invisibility of the migrants and the surveillance to which they are subjected.  Kurtis concludes however that “photography is actually a poor platform” to speak about the issues that migrants face.  I suspect no single form of communication could come close to conveying what these poor people are enduring.

I was very happy with Helen Marten winning the Turner Prize (and also enjoyed the odious Gove’s frustration with it).  Adrian Searle puts it well: “There is a formal language at work here, leading the eye as well as the mind on a journey. Her art splices mental associations with an acute sense of materiality, scale and tactility. In her art, thinking is made concrete. It is more than free association or an unfocused interior monologue. We are forever losing the thread and refinding it with Marten. There are stems and branches, thoughts shooting off, parentheses, pauses for breath, full stops.” [2]

This was an interesting article about the Trump victory and what that says about the state of photography in the US.  Ed Kashi argues that there has been a failure by journalists and PJs to create and disseminate the images and real stories that will “move the needle on public understanding”.  He writes, “It is alarming that even though we live in a time where access to information is easier than it has ever been before, so many people live within a closed loop of falsehoods.” I cannot help feeling pessimistic as our society moves ever more quickly towards the soundbite, 140 character stories and single image Instagrams. One wonders how much tolerance there is for longer narratives and I certainly haven’t seen a contemporary equivalent of, for example, the Migrant Mother image to portray successfully the disenfranchised who sanctioned Trump or Brexit as a protest vote.

I found myself quite intrigued by the art of Blake Neubert. He uses a razor to scrape away layers of his paintings to reveal macabre and sometimes horrifying imagery underneath. “When I was younger, I guess I always thought there was one story – the truth, or the ‘real version’. As I get older, I see how we are able to shift the truth or make it fit our lifestyle. It’s something I have just always paid attention to. There are so many ‘truths’ out there. It also echoes my life a little bit. I have always been convinced there were two very distinctive versions of myself: the very polite, appropriate professional; and the irreverent, antisocial, borderline personality guy.” [3]  Neubert says that his images are not designed to shock or offend but are a way for him to try to come to terms with all the horror he sees in our violent world.  His work appeals to me as I wrangle more and more with the idea of twinning images and creating diptychs.

And finally, an inspiring thought from Ira Glass that that I picked up somewhere along the way:  “Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one piece. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take a while. It’s normal to take a while. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.”

Let the fighting begin again …



  1. British Journal of Photography, September 2016 edition
  2. https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2016/dec/05/helen-marten-an-artist-who-thinks-differently-from-the-rest-of-us
  3. http://www.inkedmag.com/scrape-artist-blake-neubert-gallery/2/?ipp=3



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