Daily Snap: Eyes, John Cohen, Cider

Gear: Nikon D300S; Nikon 16-35mm f/2.8
Settings: f/2.8, 1/40th of a second, ISO 320

The story: Local cider festival which showcased a hydraulic cider press that dates back to the 1890s. Serious machinery that applies about 100,000 pounds of force to masses of unwitting apples. The typical trappings of a down-home ciderfest were all there: folks serving cider, various vendors, hay rides. But I was interested in this press, and I wanted a great shot, so I kept telling myself that there is no eye.

OK, OK. I'll clarify.

John Cohen is a musician, photographer and jack of all trades who might be most famously know for photographs like this one. He published a book in 2002 titled "There is No Eye," referring to his photographic style. His photographs were vibrant, blurry, hectic, boring, engaging, disengaging and everything in between. Make sense? No? I know, it's hard. Try this from Greil Marcus:

"You can look at John Cohen's book and see through very familiar eyes: the New York City eyes of Helen Levitt and Walker Evans, Evans' country eyes, the highway eyes of Robert Frank, even Margaret Bourke-White's doubting eyes in Holiness churches….John Cohen's argument is that the picture exists outside of the photographer's intentions, or even his desires….Up against these eyeless pictures, those of Evans, Frank, Levitt, and Bourke-White can seem almost propagandistic. That is, they make arguments; you are aware that the photographer wants to tell you something, to convince you of something, to accept a certain point of view. Here there is no point of view. There is something else; I don't know what to call it, so I won't try."

Anyway. Sometimes I fear I overthink my photography. Trying to engage the subject, tell the story, build a narrative composition, find a background, find the light. Use it all correctly. It's stressful, man! So at this event, I made a point to go all John Cohen. Get in there. And engage. And see what happens. And don't worry too much about the camera ... because there is no eye.

And all of a sudden, I come across Harold here checking the hydraulics. I had just come from outside, and I knew this was a fleeting moment, so I just dropped the shutter speed until i had a fair exposure. Fired.

You know, I probably wouldn't have gotten this shot if I was thinking about faces and places and settings and light. But there wasn't an eye that day. There was just a barn, a man, and a big machine.

Cool, right?

Why I like it: I won't ramble too long. I love the motion blur of the cider press. I like the spectrum of light and dark, and I don't find the blown-out window too distracting. I like his shirt pattern harmonizing with the barn's interior. And I like the look on his face. 

P.S. Had some of the cider. Magical.