Oops, I didn't post anything in February...

I've been really busy. But then, it seems like that's never not the case.

I don't think anyone reads this blog. It's too bad; they're missing out on some great exclusive content. ;-)

Mediocrity (and the Pressure to be Great)

The hardest thing is taking mediocre photographs. The bad ones are easily discarded, and the good ones are eagerly displayed. But those in the middle - it's always hardest for me to decide what to do with them. I'm talking about the ones that aren't great photographs, but have something in them, maybe just a single isolated quality, that I have a hard time tossing aside. I want to share that quality, but I don't want to devalue my photography by producing a lot of subpar material.

And yet, if I think about it, I've already made the decision. There are other photographers that produce only high quality work (although the truth of it is that they only share their high quality work), and as much as I envy those photographers for being so talented and so professional, they're not me.

I'm still only learning - honing my craft, if you will - and I'm probably not at a level where I can pump out a heavy concentration of high quality material. Although admitting that - and each time I share a mediocre photograph, I am admitting that to myself and the world - still makes me feel uncomfortable.

But additionally, I've already decided that the photographs I share with the world - at least through the venue of my flickr photostream - are not to be considered the best selection of my work. This is not a portfolio to show off my skills. It is more like a scrapbook, where all of my work goes (all of it worth holding onto, anyway). And there is value in that, despite the complaints you'll hear from people who feel they are drowning in a deluge of amateurs producing quantity over quality.

My work is not just about the end results (the good photographs); it is a process, and a document of my progress through the years - both as an artist, and as a human being. So the near-misses that merely hint at something of interest are important, because they point the way toward future successes. And while many artists undergo this process in the dark - behind closed doors, as it were - keeping their failures and their mediocrities to themselves, I have chosen the path of transparency, sharing my humanity and my fallibility with the world.

Because one thing I resent is the image of the "professional" - the talented laborer who produces only works of great ability, who never fails. And the fact that the process from amateur to professional is so frequently hidden. It promotes the idea that we are not allowed to learn, and we are not allowed to be amateurs. We must toil in the dark until we are perfect, and only then can we show ourselves to the world. Otherwise we risk the ridicule of being compared to the greats, and coming up short beside them.

And that is exactly the trepidation I feel every time I share a work of mediocrity, because I couldn't bring myself to destroy it simply because it wasn't great. But I'll make that sacrifice in the hope that it will inspire other future artists and professionals not to be afraid to make mistakes - because they must be made if one is to learn from them. And maybe someday, the climate will change, and people won't be so afraid of failure. Because you cannot succeed once without failing many more times first.

And furthermore, if there is something in a work of mediocrity worth saving it from the trash bin, then others may see that, and may benefit from it, even though the work is not great. They may be inspired towards greatness as a result. Or it may simply be enough to brighten their day. Not everything in the world is great, nor can it be.

David Hamilton's Bilitis

I undressed and climbed into a tree. My naked thighs embraced its smooth, damp bark, and my sandals walked on its branches. High up, among the leaves, sheltered from the heat of the night, I sat astride the spreading fork of a branch, my feet hanging free below. It had rained, and drops of water fell and ran along my skin. My hands were green in the moss, and my toes red from crushed flowers. I felt the beautiful tree vibrate with the wind's passage, and, so, I tightened my legs around it, and pressed my open mouth against the long, downy neck of the branch.

- from Bilitis

Bilitis suffers from the same (predictable) flaw that the movie adaptation of Lolita suffers from - casting the adolescent schoolgirl, just on the brink of sexual awakening, too old. But, like Lolita, the rest of the film is so enchanting (beautiful in Bilitis' case, depressing in Lolita's) that even this pivotal flaw fails to bring down the whole picture with it. And in both cases, the actresses do a convincing job of acting the character, in spite of the age disparity (which is even greater for Bilitis, who could, in my estimation, be anywhere from 12 to 16, but is played by a 25ish year old Patti D'Arbanville, versus the 15ish year old Dominique Swain playing Lolita, who is supposed to be 12-14). Interestingly, a lot of Patti's style (especially the hair) and mannerisms as Bilitis reminded me of Dominique Swain's Lolita (played twenty years later). I wonder if that was a conscious influence.

In any case, it's not surprising that a young character would be cast older in an erotic film, given modern paranoia about sex - especially in Bilitis' case, where the erotica is a primary focus, as opposed to Lolita, where anything that comes off as being erotic can be written off as an unavoidable consequence of depicting a destructive sexual relationship. It's a typical case of cinematic moralism: controversial sexuality is only forgiven when it's being used to preach the evils of sex. David Hamilton - operating out of France, I believe - is thankfully above this crippling influence, and yet we still get a 25 year old "schoolgirl", for better or worse. Frankly, the film, while highly erotic, is not at all explicit, and none of Bilitis' scenes involve anything that a young-looking 16 year old, having legally reached the age of consent in many jurisdictions, couldn't handle. She doesn't even really have sex at all - just a fair bit of kissing and touching, and generally being naked, which wouldn't be such a big deal if it weren't for our sex phobia.

The basic theme of the movie is the sexual awakening of a young schoolgirl named Bilitis. She develops a crush on the school photographer, but she's reluctant to submit to her heart's desire. During summer vacation, she stays with an older family friend named Melissa, who is married, and beautiful in her own right. There, she learns about love. First with the photographer, who happens to work on the beach. But all the men in her life are rough and single-minded, and insensitive about her virginity. In a passionate moment while the husband is out on a business trip (with a fling of his own), Bilitis and Melissa surrender to their attraction to one another and make love. The experience is wonderful for both, and Bilitis falls in love, while Melissa stresses that their relationship cannot continue. "Even if you love me more than anyone in the world, you'd still need a man." So, Bilitis goes out looking for a man to hook Melissa up with (somebody that will treat her better than her abusive, cheating husband). And she ends up falling for the photographer, whom Bilitis is on the outs with, but as much as she hates to see them with each other (and not her), she allows them their happiness and returns to school having lost her first love. It's a touching story.

The film itself oughtn't really to be judged on the usual merits of motion picture entertainment. You could call it an art film. It's not interested in telling a story the same way every other movie you watch does. It attempts to do so, but it's pretty obvious that the story is an excuse for the atmosphere and cinematography, and not vice versa. It's more like a dream than a standard narrative. Hamilton's films are basically moving photographs, with music and sometimes dialogue, and just a bare semblance of a story. You watch them essentially for one purpose - to be wowed by David Hamilton's passionate embrace of the beauty of feminine grace. So if you like David Hamilton's photography, you'll probably like his films - not necessarily as films, but as an extension of his art. And if you don't like David Hamilton, then chances are these films will bore you (or possibly offend you, if you're an uneducated prude). Personally, I think they're beautiful. And watching this one has rekindled my interest in collecting his other films. Even in spite of the fact that I'm concerned about picking up transfers that may be edited, or not have the proper language (this one was in English). In the end, seeing them, even in an imperfect form, is better than not seeing them at all.

And I'm very impressed that the DVD I got includes the film soundtrack as a bonus feature. The music is very pretty, but there is one song in particular that I liked, which becomes rather dramatic, even to the point of having some electric guitars come in the background. I'm really happy to be able to so easily track down that song, without even leaving the disc! It's just too bad the soundtrack isn't also included in CD format.

Objectification: Two Sides

Too often I hear how porn supposedly degrades women, and how every expression of male sexuality aims to objectify women, transforming them into a commodity that exists to be used up and then discarded. This is the line where equality feminism steps over into misandry. I wouldn't claim that there are no men who mistreat women, but at the same time, it is unfair to blame male sexual biology as the cause of some social deformity (the inability to treat women like people) and proof that males are animals and morally inferior to females.

Not every man who submits to lustful thoughts is committing objectification - or at least, those attitudes regarded as "objectification" are a healthy component of a sexual attraction that includes other components, such as regarding the object of attraction as a human being. It's simply too much to condemn the male sexual impulse as something wrong and disgusting. Some men abuse it, this is true - just as some women abuse their sexual impulses - but most do not.

The "drooling male horndog" is a natural part of a healthy sexual culture. One should not be ashamed to be found sexually attractive - do not assume that it is a requirement that this attraction go hand in hand with an animalian disregard for your basic humanity, or an excuse to throw all civility out the window. As long as I hear about men objectifying women by responding to their sexual appeal, I will complain about women objectifying men by reducing them to unthinking brutes who can't control their sexuality, and can't think of anything other than consumption when amidst the throes of sexual arousal. There are two sides to objectification, you see.

Happy Xmas

Season's Greetings - the erotic photographer's way!

The Beautiful Beast

The beautiful beast desires a sacrificial virgin to ravish. Will you appease him? (Y/N)

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Softcore Pornography

What is softcore pornography? How does it differ from "erotica", and where do we draw the line between it and hardcore? Wikipedia defines one possible type of softcore pornography as depicting "nude and semi-nude performers engaging in casual social nudity". But this is very problematic, from a nudist standpoint. On one hand, people can interpret innocent, non-sexual nudity in a sexual light (and I wouldn't strip them of their right to that interpretation), but I think it's extremely inappropriate to define nudist images or videos as any kind of pornography!

Wikipedia also offers this definition for softcore pornography: "non-graphic representations of sexual intercourse or masturbation". Now we're in the right ballpark, since we're actually talking about sex. Here, we differentiate from eroticized nudity, and enter the realm of actual sexuality. But what constitutes a "graphic" representation of sex? Is it how much you can see? Or is it the way the action is framed? To allow full genital nudity but not erections (what is this, a nudist resort?), renders an artistic portrait of a nude man, alone, with an erection - not even touching it - hardcore pornography. That doesn't sound right to me.

Hardcore? Hardly...
Where pornography is involved, there are few answers. I bring up this question because I'm genuinely curious about how to classify some of my work. And while I'll probably end up trusting my gut and calling it like I see it, I am concerned about how certain terms are interpreted on a wider scale. I think very little of what I've shot so far could be considered hardcore (whether hardcore art or hardcore porn) - can it be hardcore if there's only one person and no penetration? - yet a pretentious artist or a prude might be offended by some of my work being classified as anything but. Though I guess my language in that last sentence reveals my own stance.

Surely there's at least a difference between softcore photography (which might indicate softcore erotica) and softcore pornography. And where does non-nude erotica fit in? If we call that some kind of softcore, then there ought to be something in between that and hardcore. Semicore?