33 Responses

1. haimesa

   I also just think it’s great that a photo can be controversial. Let the fur fly!

   On November 26, 2011 at 2:49 pm • Reply
   • haimesa

     And for anyone remotely interested, there is a very entertaining interview with Gursky, including commentary on making this photo, at
     http://vimeo.com/17692722?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+maxvoltar+(maxvoltar)

     On November 27, 2011 at 6:17 pm • Reply
     • Julian Barkway

       Great link! It was also good to see how the scene really looks.

       On November 27, 2011 at 6:36 pm • Reply
2. Richard Childs

   Sorry folks, call me a heathen but it only holds my attention here for a second. Perhaps at full size I could fully appreciate it but unless I practice my technique for breaking into bank vaults I am unlikely to get to see it in its full glory.
   As a teenager I attempted to introduce my ex concert pianist music teacher to Raga Mala, a piece for Sitar and orchestra by Ravi Shankar. He returned the recording to me the very next day and totally unimpressed said ‘It’s like having a fine curry but being given cheap white bread to go with it’.
   I’m sure that much thought went into The Rheine, but for me it has no flavour and provokes no emotional response.

   On November 26, 2011 at 3:38 pm • Reply
3. David Barrett

   At one of the Sydney Biennale I saw two Gurskys “in the flesh. I can’t be sure but I am pretty convinced that one of them was this one or something very similar. It very big indeed, so big they had hung in an open stairwell. Me and my wife looked at it for some time. It was quite mesmerising and quietly impactful. Listening to the observations of other gallery-goers was entertaining. Personally, I don’t like it any more than I like your “average” Mondrian. But I do respect Gursky for having the idea (or at least managing to be credited with the idea). And $3.4 million? Well, the people that cashed in as part of the current financial crisis have to put our money into tangible assets ahead of who knows which currencies and “markets” collapsing. Must go, I am off to photograph the M6 at Shap. I think I’ll call it Turning my back on the Lake District …

   On November 26, 2011 at 7:24 pm • Reply
4. Richard Earney

   I think the issue I have with it is that it pales in comparison with some of his other work, and it reinforces this very dispassionate eye that seems to be cast over so many things at the moment. A flick through BJP will show us many photographers who take portraits and landscapes which are almost deliberately dull.
   I suppose I prefer some passion rather than dispassion. Rothko, in comparison, showed immense, tortured passion.

   On November 26, 2011 at 8:15 pm • Reply
   • martin gillman

     Couldn’t agree more, I have recently ‘gone back to school’ with a Photography degree and am finding it quite difficult to commentate on the kinds or work you refer to in BJP when asked to. As there are no ‘real’ rules its hard to score such works but as a minimum I need to understand the beauty or basic attraction…maybe I just don’t get it yet?

     On December 25, 2011 at 10:46 pm • Reply
     • Tim Parkin

       It’s a difficult one to be sure – the narrative behind a picture is generally more important than the picture in many cases from what I’ve seen. Landscape is particularly difficult because of the anathema to beauty and formal devices. The more complex the compositions and the more difficult the subject matter generally the higher the score. However, I have seen a change recently where some aspects of beauty and composition are getting attention again – the end of new topographics, I bloody hope so..

       On December 25, 2011 at 11:06 pm • Reply
5. Patrick

   The boy is missing a trick here. A little looking would surely have found some boulders as a foreground. In the time he was looking he might have also have noticed the sun going down.
   Interesting how it polarises opinion and provokes a reaction and as such begins to involve the viewer more actively than some other pictures.

   On November 26, 2011 at 8:27 pm • Reply
6. jonb

   It’s difficult to understand your gut reaction to the photograph when before seeing the image itself most of us see that number. The photograph can never be judged separate from its worth.

   Regardless of whether it’s beautiful, emotional, ugly, empty, the photograph represents a figure in our minds, the figure doesn’t represent the photograph. That’s the controversy. How good or bad it is doesn’t come into the equation.

   On November 27, 2011 at 1:19 am • Reply
7. Simon Miles

   At least deliberately dull is better than unintentionally dull. Or is it?

   On November 27, 2011 at 2:07 am • Reply
8. dav thomas

   I just hope Mr Gursky will see fit to invest some of his ernings on some photoshop casses, the cloning work is appauling.

   On November 27, 2011 at 2:42 am • Reply
   • Julian Barkway

     Ah, but is it? Remember, the original print is massive. Any truly bad cloning would stand out worse than a sore thumb that has been freshly painted with fluorescent paint. I suspect what you are seeing are really just compression artifacts or other issues involved in reducing such a huge print to Internet size.

     Personally, I’m reserving judgement until I get a chance to see this image at full size (or, at least, a little closer to it…)

     On November 27, 2011 at 2:07 pm • Reply
9. davidlangan

   Forgetting the fact that Gursky photoshopped some unwanted elements out of the scene I can apprciate the difficulty in making such photograph. I can think of almost no location where I could make such a symmetrical, even , uniform and uncluttered “landscape” photograph. Unfortunately that is as far as my appreciation goes. I find the photograph unbelievably bland, dull, harsh, bleak and overwhelmingly pretentious. (perhaps the last bit has got more to do with my (lack of) understanding of fine/modern art and the reason why I am a photographer and not a painter). I have little resepct for the skills (or lack of) that went into making this, both the camera and work and editing.
   I do not even think of it as a marmite photograph as there is so little in there I find it hard to like or dislike anything about it.

   BUT, fair play to him. He wont be bothered about all this criticism (in fact it will probably only add to his stock) in the same way that the controversial LPOTY winners of the past wont have been bothered about the rants of other photographers.

   On November 27, 2011 at 11:38 am • Reply
   • Patrick

     Lots of words for someone who neither likes or dislikes this photo!
     I don’t see any of these comments as rants.
     Do you think you make art or photographs? What do you think is the difference?

     On November 27, 2011 at 1:11 pm • Reply
10. malger

    Like most of the commentators here I am kind of ambivalent towards this image. I do admire and respect the artifice involved in the construction and design, the overall balance and framing are well conceived and considered, even striking. In this regard the image does hold my attention whilst I consider the aforementioned elements, however, once considered I am left searching for any other reason to remain and indeed return. For me the image is stark in its representation of a time and place and I find this a particularly melancholia inducing place, a place that I would certainly not want to dwell within or upon (in fact after a while studying the image I found myself strangely transported back to 1972, a winter’s Sunday evening, watching On The Buses and dreading the prospect of the start of another week of school. Believe me that that was a bad time place to be transported back to!).
    I agree with the references to Rothko here and can see parallels, which are fascinating. But I find Rothko’s work, even in its most super-simplistic form (his grey chapel panels for instance) has the power to compel me to ponder and revisit. The work under discussion here simply does not. On a superficial level (subject matter aside) it may be the colour arrangement that has a significant negative impression on, green seems to do that for me. It may work better for me as a monochromatic image….yes I think that it probably does.

    On November 30, 2011 at 2:27 pm • Reply
11. Jonb

    I think as landscape photographers, we like our art to be life-affirming, not a more depressing version of real life. It seems to me that existential art can only be truly appreciated by the upper classes, who can perhaps be more objective about stark reality – something they might not have much experience of. If people love his work because of its commentary on modern life, they must be very depressed indeed or completely detached from the world so many of us see through bus windows, wishing we were somewhere else. Essentially, I think it’s extremely elitist and Gursky very cynical. It’s ignorant of the people who exist in these places presented, apathetic of their experiences. If Gursky is revered as a God in the contemporary art world, it might be because he looks down at us.

    On December 2, 2011 at 12:36 am • Reply
    • haimesa

      I think it’s great to broaden the discussion beyond this single photo to the role and proper function of landscape photography, and your post is very thought-provoking. Out of interest, do you think this only about photography or about other arts: painting and literature for example?

      On December 2, 2011 at 5:47 pm • Reply
12. Adam Pierzchala

    Thanks for the link haimesa. Regarding *the* photo, I found myself warming to the man and becoming more believing that he is trying to create something simple if not outright beautiful out of an ugly man-made reality. In other work he creates a new imaginary scene by combining sections of a real scene. I suppose that beauty is where you find it and perhaps there are those of us who make pictures of for example quarries that others would never see let alone commit to film/sensor. Would I see this green stripy composition or even take it? No. Would I buy it? No. Will I remember it – yes, but only as a green/grey stripy picture. For me it stops at the literal and does not awaken any sort of wonder or intrigue and certinly does not have the wow factor. But then I don’t pretend to understand modern art. Rgds., Adam

    On December 2, 2011 at 10:26 pm • Reply
13. Jonb

    Well my favourite novels and paintings always give me something real life cannot and that’s not simply about escapism. The best art for me is the passing on of experience through expression, which Gursky’s photographs lack quite considerably. These are experiences we can never have because of our inability to go back in time or meet people and see things that never existed. The best artists can always give us a sense of being there (emotionally or physically) through their expression of the experience or idea. The filmmaker Ingmar Bergman was concerned with existentialism, but even the Seventh Seal is full of experience, vitality and emotion – comedy too actually. That’s because Bergman recognises that existentialism is a questioning of all these things through an experience of them – an active participation. When I said ‘…existential art can only be appreciated by the upper classes’, I should have said ‘this kind of existential art’, which for my money, is a facade and posturing. You have to understand the kind of existence that one lives in these ‘Gursky Worlds’ before pondering its real substance and I’m not sure the buyers do. I would argue that the buyers see the images solely as pretty patterns and colours, whereas others (myself included) see the reality lurking underneath and have a moral aversion to its heartless depiction. The problem is, the art only works at the expense of the reality depicted and the people who ‘know’ and have a feeling for the places presented. That’s why I think it’s bad art, in the true sense of the word.

    If Gursky is an existentialist, it’s only by accident. Would it be fair to say that people with existential ideals drive less extravagant cars? They certainly don’t make a point of telling us they own them if they do. In the video linked to above, he also talks about the “emptiness and fullness” or words to that effect. He presents his ‘Gursky World’ as one of emptiness masked by the extraordinary complexity of patterns and colour. Perhaps due to visual perception, some people only see the patterns because of a lack of familiarity with the subject, others see the substance, but one is dangerously ignorant of the other. Some people seem to like the work against their better judgement, like X Factor and Big Brother – which similarly, have deep cynicism at their core.
    It’s interesting that when the photograph of the bingo hall is presented to Gursky, he only points out the colour relationships; the activity is apparently incidental. Whether he has no interest in the content of his own photographs or is pointing out the banality of it, his work still leaves a bad taste because ethically, I believe it comes from a bad place.

    On December 2, 2011 at 10:50 pm • Reply
    • Jonb

      To be really extreme, is this “it’s a real mess we’re creating, but look how pretty it is!?” way of thinking a potential threat to conservationism? I bet Jeremy Clarkson has at least one Gursky on his wall!

      On December 2, 2011 at 11:06 pm • Reply
      • Patrick

        Having watched the video interview, I was a little disappointed to see how easy it was to join in producing this sort of stuff. The only difference seemed to be the quality of the associated narrative! I am always surprised at how important this narrative is given that we are producing an image. After all a good piece of written work stands on its own, not requiring images to explain or justify.
        Where that leaves me and whether I have any affinity to this stuff is anyones guess.
        Perhaps I have answered my own question by calling it “stuff”

        On December 3, 2011 at 9:00 am • Reply
        • Jonb

          I think when we’re really affected by what we see it’s because of the emotional and physical context in which we are seeing and in making photographs, that’s the narrative we’re trying to construct. All narratives eventually lead to an emotional payoff. Other than to simply record for posterity, there’s no other reason for pressing the shutter.

          It’s surprising that Gursky’s work avoids storytelling since stylistically, it’s actually more in the tradition of documentary photography. That distorted line between document and expression in most contemporary art photography leaves it in a pretty confused place at this point in time. Just look at 90% of the work in BJoP – most of the photographs suffer from an identity crisis and have a misleading visual language – I’m left confused by most of the images, more than enlightened and moved. Maybe media is to blame and that the photograph has found its best fit in this kind of storytelling platform, contemporary art photography is stylistically at least, following suit. The unique language of fine art photography has been completely eradicated and almost forgotten because of the images we’re bombarded with from media sources.

          On December 3, 2011 at 5:44 pm • Reply
          • Jonb

            Eradicated in the mainstream art world, that is. Maybe that fine art photography is the peoples art form is only a good thing.

            On December 3, 2011 at 6:00 pm • Reply
            • Charles Twist

              Hello Jon,

              Thank you for the deep-searching and often provocative comments. As I understand them, you say that the subject and the artist’s position relative to it must agree with the way the subject and print are presented in order for the art not to be bad and the artist not to be cynical. This is a very strong moral position and defines your take on honesty.

              The first problem I have is that it requires a thorough understanding of the artist’s intentions. And as LensView says below, this picture doesn’t give you much to go on per se.

              The second problem is that all-out honesty has far-reaching consequences. If this picture were for and by the people with their nose up against grim reality, what would be the best presentation? For a start, you’d take the picture with a cheap digital; secondly you’d probably include a friend (a passer-by would be just too unemotional). It would be a snap of someone you know, on holiday in Dusseldorf; and finally you’d present it on Facebook. Would there then be any artistic merit? The art we practice, requires observation and a level of detachment in order to filter out what is not wanted. Gursky’s print might be his way of observing grim reality. To refute that, places stringences on your own practice such that you would struggle to call it art at all, good or bad.

              Or have I missed the point?

              Best regards,
              Charles

              On January 3, 2012 at 10:20 am • Reply
              • jonb

                Hello Charles,

                I was beginning to think I’d caused upset or embarrassed myself with my comments, so thanks for the response. Perhaps I should be careful not to be more provocative than the images themselves!

                As a serious practicing photographer myself, I’m afraid I can only evaluate this work as if I were in the photographer’s shoes. This might be because I once found myself straying into the kind of state of mind that I believe results in the production of such work. There is very little work, other than perhaps Weston, Adams and Brandt that I’m able to appreciate and judge as a mere viewer. The more contemporary the photographer, I suppose the more I see the artist as a rival unfortunately and I can’t help but try to decipher moral standpoints, craft and other things that may help me reach a deeper understanding of my own practice and where my work might stand amongst such artists. Having mentioned those great black and white photographers, perhaps my bias becomes obvious. I should say then that I enjoy contemporary colour photography such as that of Todd Hido, Michael Wolf (another provocateur), David Eustace and others – not to mention many contemporary colour landscape photographers. I don’t have an aversion to contemporary photography, as a whole.

                I’ve only skimmed over my comments as I’m a bit short on time, but I don’t recall alluding to Gursky’s altering of images in a way unfaithful to reality… if that’s what you’re getting at with your first paragraph? That does seem to be the primary concern of others though. My problem isn’t one of presentation, but representation. The photographer’s vision of the world, essentially. It is of course impossible for me to get a real insight into Gursky’s intentions in this way, but I’m making an assumption, based on my own delving into similar image making, that the work comes from a cynical place, apathetic about emotion and the way most healthy human beings experience the world. Whether it is for or against materialism, globalisation, capitalism and other negatives of the modern world, it is very much a product of these things. This is surely fundamentally pessimistic and cynical – stewing in the filth, as it were? Honesty isn’t the problem then, maybe it’s more honest than any romantic landscape for this reason. Romantic landscapes I should say are not my concern. Personally, rather than imposing a philosophy on the world, as a photographer I strive to reveal the truth of the reality with which I’m presented, but this is rarely one of cynicism. If it were, I would find it hard to love what I do, feeling I’m doing it for the wrong reasons. I would question my view of the world and perhaps see a therapist.

                I don’t agree with turning your nose up at cynics, but striving to enlighten those who live in a cynical world with positivity – showing them empathy. It’s quite apt that I mentioned Bill Brandt, a photographer of great empathy, whose early images represented a bleak industrial England, compassionately, but yet honestly. A remarkable artist for this reason, before we even mention his sense of composition.

                I’m not a new age thinker or even a Christian, but Gursky’s work stirs a repressed spirit inside me! In fact, I’m glad of his photographs because they inspire me for this reason. I see the most brave contemporary work as the type that strives to be optimistic. At this point in time, I would call that going against the grain. Perhaps I’m not the only photographer with such opinions and one day we can thank Gursky for being the stimulus for a revolution in contemporary art.

                On January 3, 2012 at 1:06 pm • Reply
                • Charles Twist

                  Hello Jon,

                  Thank you for taking the time to reply and also replying so quickly. I think I misunderstood your responses in a couple parts, so your answer is constructive.

                  In the first paragraph of my reply, I wasn’t referring to the Photoshopping, which doesn’t actually bother me, because AG is open about it. He’s not trying to be documentary. His subject is not the view but its meaning to him. Judging the presentation of the subject requires understanding that meaning. We can “put ourselves in his shoes”, but there is always an element of assumption (as you point out).

                  When you photograph in order to talk about “materialism, globalisation, capitalism and other negatives of the modern world”, you feel that the modified view AG has used, is too jolly. I agree the positiveness masks the problem rather than explicitly draws attention to it. If that positiveness is fake then it would indeed suggest AG is indulging in post-modern irony or cynicism – still thinking about that one, but he might also be a closet Clarksonite, in which case you can’t deny his approach even if you don’t like the result.

                  Purity of thought & action don’t exist in human reality, or if they do, then it’s relative to boundaries. So, I am prepared to let him off the hook with his choice of view, because it might be within the boundaries he has set himself (with which you no doubt disagree), and also because such boundaries are so prevalent in our own work. For example, all photographers destroy their surroundings in some way (trampling, pollution…), although plenty talk green (wilderness, conservation, natural beauty…). This is another form of cynicism in some ways, and a necessary evil in others. We allow it in the name of progress.

                  I wish you well with your quest to bring smiles to the world – a great mission. I have a strong interest in architecture, and particularly like buildings from 1958-1973. They are full of optimism and self-belief in their ability to foster a better world, but they have been let down by their caretakers and often the residents themselves. I would even say they were let down by the optimism of their architects who ignored ageing and grim reality. A bit of a message for you.

                  I daren’t imagine what you would think of my pictures of them. At times, I try to show their aesthetic potential. I feel no guilt in doing so. I am merely abstracting a latent value. I don’t feel any disrespect for the residents – on the contrary – however much they play second fiddle. At other times, I am almost documentary, going so far as to present expensive prints in prefabricated frames to ram the point home.

                  My main concern of my first response was the matter of honesty and whether the presentation of the subject and the print tallied with AG’s feelings. We’ve talked about the subject. Although you make no reference to it (my mis-reading), I felt that the way the picture was taken and the print presented, should also be borne in consideration. Does AG’s approach favour the wasteful, consumerist society which he supposedly rails against (for which this picture is only an indirect illustration)? What should we as photographers do about our own picture-taking and presentation in light of our chosen subject? All difficult and far-reaching questions. Unless you set boundaries.

                  Best regards,
                  Charles

                  On January 5, 2012 at 4:06 pm •
              • jonb

                Thanks Charles, you’ve given me plenty to think about.
                (Unable to reply directly, sorry.)

                With your architectural analogy, your “far-reaching consequences” idea becomes clear. The only problem I have with this is that I don’t believe art has any consequence on the foundations or basic functionality of our society, but at its best, perhaps does inform how we can develop and go on with it, influencing shifts in direction. In architecture, form has to follow function or our world will surely crumble. Art basically provides us with a value system and my idea is that when we hit rock bottom (morally/economically) optimism becomes the strongest value to live by. I won’t deny that this might make me a little hokey. Again, I’m not a born again Christian. I’m sooner prepared to follow my blind faith of optimism though, than to give up and embrace the ugliness of it all, which in my experience, is always counterproductive in the end. Speaking historically, it strikes me that anybody who has ever achieved anything great, has had to rise above the negativity that has surrounded them during their time, not stew in it.

                I can’t help thinking then that ‘grim reality’ is a boundary for life, art and the pursuit of excellence. Gursky’s work exists within this boundary which for my money, marks it as artistically defeatist, as no greater truth beyond the apparent is revealed to me. An artistic boundary would be one put in place by the artist, not one imposed on him by the workings of the world. That would simply be conforming, which artists fundamentally shouldn’t do! We can choose whether to leave a coke can in a landscape photograph, but the fact that it’s there doesn’t mean we have to include it. Modern art says we have to include the can in order to make a poignant and timely statement. As the boundaries of grim reality close in, is it best to adapt or should we do what artists have always done best under such circumstances and revolt? When it comes down to a stifling of well-intentioned creativity, I’d say revolt. The artist today has to be braver than ever in setting his own boundaries. Having the courage of your convictions never meant more than it does now, in my opinion.

                There’s no doubt that the Rhein image attempts to rewrite the rules of aesthetics. It might be too soon then to consider in depth analysis, which is why I am hesitant. The image doesn’t stimulate me, but I’m not afraid to accept that this has more to do with my taste than Gursky’s ability. The image is bold, there’s no denying that. Like prog rock, only time will tell if we collectively have bad taste . Going by popular music and modern art today, it seems we suffer from bad judgement. We’re too quick now to praise something different. We’re so desperate for something that truly resonates with us that we project this feeling onto work. An example in music would be a band called Antony and the Johnsons, who won the Mercury Music Prize in 2005, but haven’t been heard of or mentioned since. There are countless other ‘next best things’ who appear and disappear every other week in popular music. Tracy Emin would be another example of our seemingly bad judgement – an artist who most people don’t take seriously at all anymore, yet once upon a time, if we remember, was considered a visionary. We simply can’t recognise what is good or bad or what we like or dislike anymore and we base our judgement on how radical it is, not by how much it moves us or more importantly, what it says about our basic humanity.

                All the best.

                On January 5, 2012 at 9:43 pm • Reply
                • Charles Twist

                  Hello Jon,

                  I can’t add more that is relevant to the picture so I will leave the conversation there. You’ve made some excellent points for which I thank you.

                  Beyond the matter of Herr Gursky, I agree with our love of the shockingly new – panem et circenses, in a way. In fact, continuing the latinist thread, your attitude reminds me of Lucretius (an epicurean) who said there is no point travelling in order to have new experiences: it’s all in the mind. I will admit I find technique a lot easier to judge than aesthetics or morals – which can’t be measured – so I am not in the best position to criticise. Judgment of fact versus judgment of value.

                  You might also like to read what RG Collingwood had to say about art and its ability to heal the corruption of society. Ridley’s book on him was recommended on DWard’s blog and I can only approve.

                  Apart from that, a final comment as an FYI: in architecture, form needn’t follow function. For instance, the cross section of a flue may be circular, square or wavy. The flue may be straight or bent. There is a lot of variability in all aspects of buildings from the position and appearance of lift shafts to the position and appearance of the walls & floors themselves. I’ll stop there as I am way OTT.

                  Nice talking to you. Best regards,
                  Charles

                  On January 6, 2012 at 12:32 am •
                • Charles Twist

                  That should be OT, at the end, but it could be OTT too! If Tim can edit the response, I’d be grateful.
                  Best regards,
                  Charles

                  On January 6, 2012 at 12:49 am •
14. danfascia

    Fine art photography. If you criticise it you just don’t understand it. If you think it’s shit just print it a bit larger and it will be fine.

    On December 11, 2011 at 5:25 pm • Reply
15. LensView

    Very controversial image indeed. Or is it the image, really? Would there be so much controversy if it hadn’t sold for such a (relatively) huge sum?
    Forgetting the selling price and looking just at the image, I must say that it’s not that bad. I like simplicity and here it borders on the purely abstract. I’d like to see it really large (I agree with Dav that at this small size I also get the impression of visible cloning in some parts). That said, I wouldn’t hang it on my wall, but that’s a matter of personal taste.
    Finally, if an images is meant to convey a message or deeper meaning, it should do so clearly. If I have to read the artists biography and several pages of descriptions to understand the meaning of an image, than that meaning is lost to me. In this case, I can see a nice composition; a study in simplicity and abstraction. Nothing else. At the very best, I could detect a hint on the domestication(?) of natural waterflows, without knowing if it is meant as a critic or something else.

    On December 21, 2011 at 12:58 pm • Reply
16. Eric

    To paraphrase Twain, it’s better than it looks. And it gets better the further back one stands from it. But to turn political for a second, it tells me that there is to much concentration of wealth, when a solid middle-class earner such as myself must choose between a car to get to work, and a higher-end camera, but some hedge fund manager blows more than a lifetime’s income on… that. I don’t blame the photographer at all, but the entire affair leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

    On December 25, 2011 at 5:14 am • Reply