It's good to get some background about the photo book design decisions. Links to your YouTube videos are also helpful—it all helps to fill out your Substack with more discussion and useful information.
I appreciate the sense of emptiness, loneliness, and general feeling of left behindness in a lot of the photos you feature. I am particularly drawn to the images of the back of signs and blank signs. There's a particularly good one—with two blank signs— in your "Instant Winter - Florida" collection. There's something about the back and behind of things—back yards, back alleys, back channels, back stories, and the back of beyond. If I can figure out what it is, I'll get back to you.
I'm really happy to hear you found that helpful Mark. I'll include stuff like that more in the future.
My curation is very much an outgrowth of my own personal interest as a photographer, so it's great to see that coming through to you with your reference to one of my own images. I'm particular drawn to the back of signs and blank signs too! Here's a personal favorite from that continuing interest: https://noahwaldeck.com/blue-water/#&gid=1&pid=39
It reminds me of Robert Rauschenberg’s White Paintings — especially the ones he created using smooth white house paint on canvas. John Cage said they influenced his silent piano composition 4′33″, and I believe Rauschenberg’s white canvases were once exhibited alongside a live performance of 4′33″.
Their shared idea was that silence encourages listeners to notice ambient sounds — coughing, the rustle of paper, an airplane overhead — while blank canvases invite viewers to notice the shifting light and shadows that fall across the white surfaces as the sun moves and people pass by.
Nature abhors a vacuum. We can’t see “nothing.” And as David Carson, the father of grungy graphic design, liked to say: “You cannot not communicate.” Silence can be an answer. A pause can be pregnant with meaning.
But I don’t get that sense from your photos of blank signs — especially this one: a white sign in a snowy field against a blank, white sky.
What can we read into a blank sign glimpsed while driving past vacant buildings, gas stations that have stopped serving customers, places that no longer have the desire or energy to attract attention, let alone invite us to stop?
It’s a tombstone that once held an inscription — long worn off.
I appreciate the brief behind-the-scenes peek into your book making process — and the discovery of James' musical accompaniment. Carl's "4488" and Charlie's "Green Shutters" engaging building portraits and Brad's astute eye for oddities are standouts from this roundup for me.
Love the composition of the house and front gate.
Yeah I do too, the symmetry of that one really pops.
It's good to get some background about the photo book design decisions. Links to your YouTube videos are also helpful—it all helps to fill out your Substack with more discussion and useful information.
I appreciate the sense of emptiness, loneliness, and general feeling of left behindness in a lot of the photos you feature. I am particularly drawn to the images of the back of signs and blank signs. There's a particularly good one—with two blank signs— in your "Instant Winter - Florida" collection. There's something about the back and behind of things—back yards, back alleys, back channels, back stories, and the back of beyond. If I can figure out what it is, I'll get back to you.
I'm really happy to hear you found that helpful Mark. I'll include stuff like that more in the future.
My curation is very much an outgrowth of my own personal interest as a photographer, so it's great to see that coming through to you with your reference to one of my own images. I'm particular drawn to the back of signs and blank signs too! Here's a personal favorite from that continuing interest: https://noahwaldeck.com/blue-water/#&gid=1&pid=39
That’s a really good image.
It reminds me of Robert Rauschenberg’s White Paintings — especially the ones he created using smooth white house paint on canvas. John Cage said they influenced his silent piano composition 4′33″, and I believe Rauschenberg’s white canvases were once exhibited alongside a live performance of 4′33″.
Their shared idea was that silence encourages listeners to notice ambient sounds — coughing, the rustle of paper, an airplane overhead — while blank canvases invite viewers to notice the shifting light and shadows that fall across the white surfaces as the sun moves and people pass by.
Nature abhors a vacuum. We can’t see “nothing.” And as David Carson, the father of grungy graphic design, liked to say: “You cannot not communicate.” Silence can be an answer. A pause can be pregnant with meaning.
But I don’t get that sense from your photos of blank signs — especially this one: a white sign in a snowy field against a blank, white sky.
What can we read into a blank sign glimpsed while driving past vacant buildings, gas stations that have stopped serving customers, places that no longer have the desire or energy to attract attention, let alone invite us to stop?
It’s a tombstone that once held an inscription — long worn off.
Each set worked very well on its own but viewing these as one worked so well together.
It's wonderful to hear that they worked for you like that Maureen!
I appreciate the brief behind-the-scenes peek into your book making process — and the discovery of James' musical accompaniment. Carl's "4488" and Charlie's "Green Shutters" engaging building portraits and Brad's astute eye for oddities are standouts from this roundup for me.
Happy to hear you enjoyed that Jason! I’ll do more of those on the future. Those are all standouts for me as well!
Incredible work all around! Amazing feature as always❤️
Thank you very much as always Peter!
Carl’s last photograph of the door and window is interesting and spare in detail and color.
I thought that one made an interesting note to end on.
Thank you very much Per! I’m really happy to hear they’re a continuing source of inspiration!