Monday, March 29, 2010

Emmet Gowin,


This past Wednesday I went to the Emmet Gowin (2) lecture at the Museum of Fine Arts here in Boston.  The Museum has a survey of Harry Callahan’s work up and invited Gowin to speak about both Callahan and his own work.  Oh goodness, it was wonderful.  You know that feeling between crying and exploding—that strange lightness and strained feeling when you feel like you might lift out of your seat?  I love that feeling, I had it for the entire lecture.  Gowin is an amazing speaker; he is so deeply attached to everything in life that I don’t think he can help but talk about everything in a beautifully eloquent, romanticized, passionate way.  I thought he might start sobbing a few times throughout the evening.

Edith and Rennie Booher, Danville, Virginia, 1970 © Emmet Gowin

Callahan was Gowin’s grad teacher at RISD in the mid 60’s and they struck up a close relationship.  I never really considered the closeness of their work until it was presented to me tonight.  There are immense similarities between the two photographers’ thought processes and sensitivities.  He said that Callahan’s work exists in tandem with the Quaker saying about how our role on earth is the invention of peace, and that his work “sought to redress the frightening masculinity” of our time.  Honestly he was such an eloquent speaker, it seemed so effortless for him to use grand, beautiful statements like that.

© Harry Callahan

Gowin went on to discuss his own photographs, quoting Rilke and Faulkner most notably.  He mentioned the ideas of standing guard over the solitude of the people you’re with, something that Rilke talks about and which comes strongly across in his work, along with the idea of photographing a scene but really photographing the tragedy behind the scene.

Nancy and Dwayne, Danville, Virginia, 1970 © Emmet Gowin

At one point during his exquisite ramblings and storytelling he went on and on about Edith, his wife he photographed almost constantly, even creating her presence when her physicality wasn’t available. “The greatest distance you can ever travel is to come back to where you are,” he stated.  That is where you find “a kind of personal eternity” where you realize “where you are is where you’re supposed to be.”  It’s almost a spiritual idea, really, of finding your place in the world.  He beautifully captures his love for her, just by seeing the multitude and sensitivity of the images he makes of her you can sense the immense unbounded love he has.  She is his muse.  It’s beautiful.

I’ve failed to mention so many aspects of his talk.  If you ever get the chance to go to one, do it.  He’s retiring from his teaching career at Princeton this year, it would be lovely to attend his farewell lecture I’m sure.  At the end of the lecture I went down to the stage to thank him and he gave me a huge hug, it was cute!

Edith and Moth Flight, 2002 © Emmet Gowin


“Life itself isn’t the reality…if we did not dream, reality would collapse.” –Harry Callahan


Rose

2 comments:

  1. Great, Rose! I love the experiences you are having and that you are able to share those with us so eloquently.
    I absolutely adore Rilke. A particular some thing he said which I think would be beneficial to us all at this point (and perhaps at all points) in our lives (and I am sure Larry would agree with this one):
    "LIVE the questions now. Perhaps, then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."
    As we are told, we should be questioning every thing. Even when we think we know or believe we accept some thing, we should always be asking ourselves why, why do we believe this? What reinforces that belief. What challenges it? Why do we accept this? Why do we reject this? Questioning is like breath for the intellectual.

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  2. That's an awesome quote. and many good questions there too.

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