I saw the superb show of the work of the British photographer Martin Parr this past week at Boston College's McMullen Museum and recommend it highly. Fellow photographer and teacher at Boston College Karl Baden has brought us a large sample of Parr's photographs made over his career. Cleanly and with excellent text that contextualizes the work, we go from the late 70s up through 2005 or so and are shown specific projects along the way, from early days with small analog black and white prints up through medium format large color inkjet prints. We are taken on a journey of Parr's interests, including many pictures from Ireland, unflinching and in-your face-pictures of demonstrations, family get-togethers, people on the street, a visit by the Pope, and photos of monuments and famous tourist destinations made with a wry sense of humor.

Excuse the hyperbole but I found the work in the show to be a confirmation of photography itself. Parr's pictures affirm that, although it may feel like the world is going to hell in a handbasket, there is good in the world, for his spin is mostly positive.  That things aren't perhaps as bad as they seem. 

Parr's role as acute observer takes great discipline and this show presents us with work that speaks to his efficiency and wonderful ability to find things that hold our interest in unexceptional circumstances. For Parr, pictures are everywhere. 

Parr is a commentator on our human condition, with a decidedly British take. 

Take a practiced and perceptive photographer, put him/her in front of places of interest peopled with a broad cross-section of humanity,  add in some wit, irony, a strong sense of design and a fine color sensibility and you might have Martin Parr, clearly one the very best working today. I only wish the show gave us more current work, for what is there seems to stop about 2005.

Many photo shows these days leave me angry and frustrated, feeling that photography has lost its way, missed its inherent capabilities and attributes while being taken up by artists that bend it, mold it to make imagery that I don't have a clue about, personal and political pieces that I don't relate to. But there is wonderful work to see. So far this year I have seen this and the Frank Armstrong show at Fitchburg Art that confirm that photographs are being made that are superb.

Thank you to both Frank Amstrong and Martin Parr and the curators that brought them to us. 

More info?

https://www.bc.edu/bc-web/bcnews/art-and-culture/fine-arts/mcmullen-presents-martin-parr.html

through June 5

Made in my second year of grad school and working on my thesis, which was from junkyards. 

I believe that was the first photograph I'd made that was transformative. Just a hood ornament on an old rusted-out wreck sitting year after year in a junkyard in East Greenwich, RI. Not so important, right? Not something newsworthy or of a major event but for me, earth-shaking. I felt its weight, its personal importance as a sort of canary in a coal mine, sitting there as a test perhaps, begging me to understand that because of this one print, my world had changed. That the bar had been raised and my understanding of my relationship to the medium of photography was now more firmly defined than before. I knew my place better or maybe had found my career with this one photograph. To a young student who had never found much purpose in my life, this was big.

The print? The original sits now in my studio at perhaps 7 inches square and is mounted and matted to 11 x 14 inches. It is signed and dated as: "1972". Of course, you'd never know it was special unless you read about it here or it came up over a beer.

Over my career, I've been asked, "What is your favorite photograph you've made?" What a simply preposterous question. But if forced to answer this one above would be on the list.

Do you have one like mine? A photograph that pointed the way for you or shook your world? When did you make it and under what circumstances? Do you have it out or where it can be seen? Does the memory of making it come flooding back when you see it? Does your family know it and do your loved ones know how important it is to you?

Hoping you will sign up. Please share with your friends and colleagues.

For immediate release:

Photographer Neal Rantoul to hold one-on-one portfolio reviews this spring in Acton.

Widely known career photographer and artist Neal Rantoul will be conducting one-on-one in-person portfolio reviews and project consultations at his new studio this spring in Acton, MA.

Want feedback on a new body of work? Have an idea but not sure where to start? Looking for granting or funding? Working on a book that needs editing? Believe you have work that is strong but need help finding your audience? Need feedback on a series or help with sequencing?

Join Neal for a discussion of these and any other photography-related issues.

Neal Rantoul is a career artist and teacher with over 40 years of experience looking at work and advising on its quality, efficacy, and ability to connect with others. Neal is retired as head of the Photography Program for thirty years at Northeastern University and taught at Harvard University for thirteen years as well. With numerous national and international exhibits to his credit over his career, Rantoul continues an active schedule of making new work and bringing past works to wider recognition.

Since retiring ten years ago, he has taught workshops, given lectures, published books, exhibited his work, and held one-on-one sessions with photographers.

Schedule and costs: Initial one-on-one sessions of 1 to 1½ hours with Neal are $100 with subsequent meetings at $150/hour. Generally, meetings are held over the workweek during normal business hours at his studio in Acton. While understanding that some are reticent to meet in person due to Covid-19, Neal is fully vaccinated and boosted, and all safety protocols will be observed.

Neal writes “I believe I can help photographers reach their objectives and that I can respond to their need for clarification on their work. Very often photographers don’t know what the response to their work is. This is often because too few have seen it, or their audience is less than candid. With so many years looking at work I can provide a clear-headed response in a supportive and positive manner while helping with logistical and aesthetic considerations. Got that big project sitting in prints under the bed, unseen and unknown? Or have an idea but are not sure how to proceed? I believe I can help you.”

If you have questions or to schedule:

Call Maru at (978) 496-4901 or email her at: m.rantoul@gmail.com

Neal Rantoul Photography

www.nealrantoul.com

In Waiting I described the saga of being all set to go on a long trip only to have my car break down the night before I was to leave.

In Waiting 2 we continue and conclude the story.

Finally, the dealer called saying the car was all set. I called a cab, loaded all my gear in for the trip, and hoofed it to the dealer across the river. It was -9 degrees outside. 

I paid up and loaded everything in the car. Driving out of the garage the temperature went from warm inside the shop to brutal cold. I watched the new paint job on the hood from a few weeks earlier shrink, crack, and peel off as I drove away, leaving bare metal. I didn't hesitate. I headed straight for New Orleans.

914 Porsches were mostly the same as VW Beetles meaning their engines were air-cooled and any heat was provided by heater boxes on either side of the car under the body. What warm air the car made was provided by the exhaust pipes going through the heater boxes, then that air was sent into the cabin by a fan. -9 degrees was way too much for this system so I froze until I got far enough south for the outside temp to be higher. I drove to New Orleans as fast as I could. 

The rest of the trip was uneventful and I had no more disasters.  I met and befriended wonderful people: Fred Sommer, Todd Walker, Ed Ranney, Bill Jenkins, Harold Jones, Ann Tucker. And I made pictures, lots of them:

 I didn't get a teaching job in the Southwest that year or any other year. I ended up heading home after having three memorable days with Fred Sommer in Prescott, AZ at the end of the trip. The next year I'd be offered the job at Northeastern University and taught there for the next thirty years. 

But waiting that early January in 1979 put me through some changes. I can still feel that desperation and panic too. Forced to wait, all control over my own fate taken away by a broken axle. 

We're right in the middle of preparations for the studio move on February 1. This means getting everything ready to get into the moving van(s) to drive the 30 miles or so to the new studio in Acton. No big deal, right?

Let's take a look:

Chaos, right?

A career's work and stuff accumulated over the ten years I have been here. As much as I might like to have less, it seems I always have more. I do know that a surprising amount of the work here was made over the past ten years. I've written this before but the time since I retired in 2012 has been the most productive of my career. 

The new studio has had new heat/ac installed, a new ceiling, fresh paint, and the carpet is about halfway done as of this morning. It has even had a couple of walls taken down. Finally, the new frame rack will be built next week, one week before the move.

Once settled I plan on an open studio weekend in April or maybe May. Feel free to email me if you want to be notified: Neal's email