Showing posts tagged quote

A good photograph that tells a “beautiful” thing is not art. The beautiful child who looks at you with dreamy eyes or the wonderful girl with hair in the wind, that’s not art. Most often, art must have behind it a thought, that thought does not necessarily have to be political, but a thought that has to represent an idea related to the time in which we are living, the time of pollution, of cars, a time when there are poor, too much poor, and there are rich, too much rich.
..The way (to photograph) is more important because, as I said before, the beautiful girl - she is beautiful, the dress is beautiful, the flowers around her are beautiful, the scenery behind is beautiful - that does not make in itself a beautiful photograph. It is the composition, it is that something that you can grasp in that moment. The meaning that comes when something is a little more shifted to the right or left. Do you understand? There is something that you, the photographer, put into it that makes the picture different from beauty itself.

Letizia Battaglia, 2001

(a reminder to never ever submit to complacency in wanting to only capture ‘easy beauty’. seek the beauty in the mundane, the disregarded, the ordinary for these are where beauty radiates the most, gifted are those who eventually sees as one should see.) 

I think you reveal yourself by what you choose to photograph, but I prefer photographs that tell more about the subject. There’s nothing much interesting to tell about me; what’s interesting is the person I’m photographing, and that’s what I try to show.

Mary Ellen Mark

If Nature had been comfortable, mankind would never have invented architecture, and I prefer houses to open air. In a house we all feel of the proper proportions. Everything is subordinated to us, fashioned for our use and pleasure. Egotism itself, which is so necessary to a proper sense of human dignity, is entirely the result of indoor life. Out of doors one becomes abstract and impersonal. One’s individuality absolutely leaves one.

Oscar Wilde, “The Decay of Lying”

I enjoyed my own nature to the fullest and we all know that therein lies happiness, although, to soothe one another mutually, we occasionally pretend to condemn such joys as selfishness…
I lived consequently without any other continuity than that, from day to day, of I, I, I….Thus I progressed on the surface of life, in the realm of words as it were, never in reality. All those books barely read, those friends barely loved, those cities barely visited…I went through the gestures out of boredom or absent-mindedness. Then came human beings; they wanted to cling but there was nothing to cling to, and that was unfortunate. For them. As for me, I forgot. I never remembered anything but myself.

Albert Camus, “The Fall”

The life, joys, pains, all the events and incidents of a creator’s life were nothing compared to his adventures with language. An artistic achievement is always more than the mere chronicle of a writer’s life. Often it is also his existence, remoulded and transcended by his use of language.

Olivier Todd, Introduction from Albert Camus’, “The Fall.”

I love life - that’s my real weakness. I love it so much that I am incapable of imagining what is not life. Such avidity has something plebeian about it, don’t you think? Aristocracy cannot imagine itself without a little distance surrounding itself and its own life. One dies if necessary, one breaks rather than bending. But I bend, because I continue to love myself.

Albert Camus, “The Fall”

(this rather resonates with a line from a bright eyes song that goes, and never trust a heart that’s so bent it can’t break.) 

What can one do, what should we do with our soul if God does not exist? And indeed if He doesn’t, does anything go? If God disappears from our view of life, on what do we build this moral code? Does any code hold? ……Talking about God does not imply that one is with or near God….Paradise and Hell, to Camus, are here on this Earth.

Olivier Todd, Introduction from Albert Camus’, "The Fall"