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William Scott
ICEBOX GALLERY presents:
Scott, who lives in Northern California, shoots landscapes and urbanscapes along the rocky California coastline and during his frequent trips abroad. He doesn’t like to intellectualize his work; he would rather have his pictures interpreted by the viewer. Scott thinks of photography as a visual language that is different from spoken language, and feels his images (if successful) are much more capable of engaging viewers in visual dialogue than he is at explaining them through verbal dialogue. William Scott’s images are nothing less than beautiful. All the toned photographs in this exhibit are finely crafted and uniquely composed. Each one is instilled with its own sense of place and mystery. Hung side by side are images of a misty forest landscape, a craggy nighttime seascape, and an elusive find on a Mexican street. These diverse subjects are bound together with Scott’s personal vision and style. Scott was recently drawn to a charred forest beginning to come back to life, and here his discovery and photograph reveal a heart-shaped section on a tree remarkably unaffected by the flames. Another striking image shows an intersection of buildings in Mexico veiled and distorted by a screen of some sort, with the focus falling on a lone light bulb suspended from a wire. With California’s past history of spawning great photography, it’s delightful to know that its well of talent and visual interpretations has not dried up. Young artists like Scott continue to make new, personal discoveries that help reshape landscape, seascape, and urbanscape on film, even in what is arguably America’s most photographed state. OPENING RECEPTION: The following interview with William Scott is courtesy of B&W magazine: "Successful photographs have an intangible quality," says William Scott, explaining the way he looks at his own work. "There is something ambiguous, something mysterious, something lyrical about them. They leave room for the artist and the viewer to grow into them. So I like my work to be unspecific, to leave that room-- that ambiguity-- to move into." Scott, who lives in Northern California, shoots landscapes and urbanscapes along the craggy California coastline, and during his frequent trips abroad. But he doesn't like to intellectualize his work. He wants his pictures to be interpreted by the viewer. He thinks of photography as an entirely different language from spoken language, and feels much more articulate when his photographs are left to speak for themselves. "I try not to lead the viewer into seeing the exact same thing I saw when I was out photographing," he explains. "I really don't want to reveal my motivations and taint the viewer's experience." For example, in the course of one particular photography excursion, Scott was hoping to photograph the thick tule fog that often dramatically blankets California's Sacramento Valley during the winter months. But on his arrival it turned out to be a perfectly clear morning, so he wandered around trying to find something else of visual interest. He stumbled upon a rather large, rusty crate at a rice refinery, and felt compelled to photograph it. The resulting picture he calls, "The Corner." "An analogy keeps coming up." Scott says, "But this really isn't an explanation for the photograph--- it's instead how I think about it. I read a long time ago that humans access only 15% of their brains, or some similar figure. I often think about that. In a way this photograph for me symbolizes the inside of the human mind. The light is the part of the brain that we fully access, and the rest is just space with a potential. But this is the very reason I don't like to talk about my work. I think it can influence the viewer's experience and her or his ability to bring their own interpretation to the photograph." For Scott, photography provides a way to engage with his surroundings and to exist entirely in the present. He experiences a heightened sense of curiosity, and he's much more receptive to what he sees in the world around him. It is a state our culture doesn't normally allow for. "I find that we spend so much of our time blocking stimuli that isn't necessary to our immediate goals," Scott observes. "Photography serves as an antidote to that condition. I think of it as a kind of cultural therapy. When I photograph it is one of the few times I really tune in completely to the present. I'm aware of what's going on around me-- I absorb, I'm observant, I'm searching. Photography becomes a search for insight and meaning. I feel it fulfills a human need to find answers." Scott's
family hails from Ireland, and he has photographed extensively on repeated
trips to the land of his ancestors. He likes to tell the story about
a photograph he took in Connemara, entitled "Brooding Tree."
It was a stormy day, full of atmospheric light and furious thunder showers
that finally forced Scott back into his car. But as an act of defiance
he wanted one more shot before packing up, so he set up his tripod and
aimed the camera at a lone tree that had caught his eye. The rain suddenly
intensified and he turned his back on his subject to shield his lens,
and wasn't even looking when he made his "I
had totally forgotten about this image until I got home and developed
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©2002 Howard M. Christopherson Owner, Artist & Master Framer |
