“Pristine” and Many Lives

Riviera Pier in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin

November 22, 2023

Numerous people who have viewed “Pristine” have remarked that it looks more like a drawing than a photograph. They have the snow to thank for that. Snow, usually characterized as soft, indeed softens this image.

I captured this scene January 8, 1998, during my lunch break while on assignment for a temp job agency at Trostel, a Lake Geneva manufacturing company along Maxwell Street several blocks north of the lakefront. According to the Trostel LinkedIn page, the company, begun in Milwaukee in 1858, “ . . . has a rich tradition of providing high-performance seals, custom molded products, and custom mixed compounds to both mobile and industrial markets.” I worked there a short time doing data entry and other clerical tasks.

With a heavy snow falling, the conditions were ideal for the composition I long had in mind for the iconic trio of piers at the Riviera. I relish photographing Geneva Lake scenes in snow and fog because they serve to hide what I call “the black band.” That is how a distant shore appears in clear lake photos because of the size of the lake. It is not Lake Michigan or the Pacific Ocean that only has a clean background of the water meeting the sky when photographed from a shoreline. With the Geneva Lake background obliterated, snow or fog also isolates and accentuates the foreground subject matter.

This image, captured on film, was made 25 years ago of the easternmost pier of the three at the Riviera. Due to the operations of Lake Geneva Cruise Line dominating the middle and west piers, the east pier has the least amount of clutter and thus is the most appealing photographically. I wish I had a current photo of the pier to see how it has changed. I do know black cones have been added to the tops of the pier posts so snow would have difficulty adhering to them. At the end of the pier a piece of plywood approximately 2x3 feet on two horizontal boards has been added between the middle two posts, thus colliding graphically with the lamppost.

As usual, I did several different compositions that day, and someday I may go back and look at those negatives to see if this composition still is my best choice. The “trouble” with art and creativity is that they constantly instill the urge for multiple looks and re-evaluations.

Multiple Lives, Many Experiences

In her book Writing Down the Bones, author Natalie Goldberg states: "Writers live twice. They go along with their regular life, are as fast as anyone in the grocery store, crossing the street, getting dressed for work in the morning. But there's another part of them that they have been training. The one that lives everything a second time. That sits down and sees their life again and goes over it. Looks at the texture and detail."

As one who has been involved in journalism for decades as a writer and an editor, I can relate to Goldberg’s statement. While she talks about writing in a personal sense, journalism is a public endeavor. When I went to an event, for example, I experienced it the first time, and then I did so again when I wrote an article about the event.

Writers also live a third time, I would add to Goldberg’s notion. That is when they share their writing by making it available through publication in whatever medium that may be and to however many people may read the writing.

I view photography similarly. Regarding my landscape photos, the first time I experience a scene is by composing and recording it. The second time is when I produce an image, which can be anything from a digital thumbnail photo for this site to a physical print. The third time is when I share an image in any manner – by providing a print to someone, by displaying my images at an event, or by publishing them in a variety of media.

Sharing is a key element in art, and I feel strongly people should share their creative works by whatever means possible. I equate creativity with spirituality. I regard or define spirituality as engagement with the world through deep connection or communion. In a human sense, that is achieved through relationship, and my photography has little value if not shared with people.

While understanding life in general contains enormous complexity, still I try to emphasize simplicity in many aspects of life. Black-and-white photography is indeed simpler than color photography, comparatively, but the depth and even intrigue with navigating the gray scale lie with noticing aspects of an image that become more apparent without the full color wheel.

As I describe on the About page, I began with black-and-white photography, and it has kept me enthralled all these years – and connected to old and new masters of the medium. Since I have done thousands of photojournalistic pictures, invariably photojournalism is present in my landscapes so a composition conveys a message, meaning, and connection. That is one reason why I include the location of each photo on this website.

For the most part, I let each photograph speak for itself – and how it may speak to you. As I stated already, I have kept my photography simple, so the details about it are basic. All of the images on this site originated as film negatives, and I have relied on the same Leica camera equipment and Ilford 35mm film for many years. I am looking forward to buying digital equipment someday, but my Leica gear is hard to put down due to its comfort and, again, simplicity. For instance, the only battery is in the light meter, and that is detachable. Thus, the camera is all mechanical and manual. Nothing is automatic. When I click the shutter, I know the image that results due to how I set the speed, f-stop, and focus.

I used to make my own prints, but a move in late 2014 meant dismantling my darkroom and eventually selling or giving away the equipment. The upside of that has been my interest in offering my photos in other media produced by various suppliers.

After that ’14 move, my life took various turns that sidelined my art photography. Actually, I was on the straight and narrow because I was in the grip of another major interest of mine, drag racing journalism, which I have done on and off since the late 1980s. I started a news and feature website called Dragscope about drag racing in the Midwest. I did well with the writing, editing, and photography, but the financial challenges were overwhelming, and I let the site go dark after 18 months. While disappointed I could not make the publication work out, I discovered drag racing and its culture had changed – and so had I. Much of the appeal had been diluted, and I could not recapture the intense interest in the sport that began when I was a youngster.

So, at 73 years old, here I am, trying to outrace Father Time (or The Grim Reaper!). I realize this may be my last hurrah. My photos deserve a strong, dedicated effort, especially from a marketing standpoint, which is vital to most enterprises, particularly one involving art.

I am ready to explore the possibilities of how to share my work. I plan to add images to the portfolios and write blog entries on a regular basis. Also under consideration are displays at markets, fairs, and exhibits. The best way to view photos is in person.

Come along for the ride. I hope you find it fascinating and enjoyable.

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If you wish to comment or ask a question about this post, contact me at frednoer@att.net.