German farmers and fallow fields
In which I get back on the horse and find myself tumbling down a rabbit hole about one of August Sander's most famous photographs
Thank you. Seriously.
Last time, I wrote about some of the struggles we've been dealing with at home. It wasn't a creative block exactly, but something else — an inability to get started due to the storminess of our daily lives. Of course, it happens to all of us. So many of you responded with warm, supportive notes. Some of you even left voice memos! You genuinely lifted my spirits, and I wanted to thank you. We've got a special thing happening here, and I'm grateful for it. One of my readers, a photographer, sent me this note, which puts things in perspective. I thought you might appreciate it:
I just read your message about the chaos and demands of life derailing your higher, more creative intentions. Ah, I know that train well! I find that mindfulness and keeping things in a larger perspective really helps. Being truly present to all of life's experiences, just as you are to the nourishment you derive from this creative forum, may allow you to shift your attention to the activities at hand without feeling resentment or anger.
I know... it doesn't feel like a real privilege to put out domestic fires when your desire lies elsewhere. But accepting such moments without frustration, tending to them as you would a crying child who needs your attention — from the heart and with loving kindness and patience — can dissolve the struggle. Resistance takes a lot of energy! You may find that by relaxing the need for things to be different, the flames themselves will retreat.
Remember the wisdom of Lao Tzu: "Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like."
She's right: resistance burns a lot of calories. More than one of you invoked the metaphor of a fallow farm field to describe this time. I was reminded of
’s lovely book, Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times. I should probably read that again. It’s true that the fields of creativity need to lay fallow occasionally, and downtime can yield new ideas. I complain about social media often, but we can't underestimate the feel-good dividends our online community provides. Sharing our struggles with like-minded peers can help. It helped me. Thanks again.
I must have been dreaming about creativity and farm fields because I woke up the other morning thinking about August Sander's photograph of the young farmers. Do you know this picture? You must — it's famous. The image is also called "Three Farmers on their Way to a Dance," it's an incredible portrait. Last night, I was out for drinks with my friend Steve, and I noticed a print of this picture hanging on the wall. Coincidence? He wasn't familiar with it, so I started telling him about Sander and his epic quest to photograph every type of person for his People of the Twentieth Century project.
Our conversation reminded me of this video that John Green produced for The Art Assignment a few years ago. Have you seen this? Green does a beautiful job of reading Sander's picture and exploring what it means (and what it doesn't). It's important to remember the limitations of photography, especially these days, as algorithms and artificial intelligence are gobbling up our visual ecosystems. Green's essay is a meditation on what pictures cannot show us. It's excellent.
I watched this again this afternoon and had forgotten about the John Berger essay referenced at the top of the video. I must have read this years ago, but that video sent me scurrying upstairs to my little office library to find Berger's Understanding a Photograph. I'm a Berger fan, so it was a treat to sip my tea and reread his 1979 essay, "The Suit and the Photograph." It's classic Berger: perceptive and soulful with a healthy dose of skepticism for the ruling class. He's a lyrical writer, and his words sparkle on the page. He opens:
What did August Sander tell his sitters before he took their pictures? And how did he say it so they all believed it in the same way?
That trust is the crux of photographic portraiture, which Sander excelled at. Berger takes Sander's young farmers as a starting point to explore the suits in his photographs and what they might mean for the power structures in late 19th and early 20th century Europe. You think you're reading about photography, and before you know it, he's taken you down a country road of critical analysis about class hegemony! It's heady stuff but fun to read and worth considering.
You can find Understanding a Photograph easily online, and it's a book that any serious photography person will enjoy. Aperture sells a hardcover copy edited and with an introduction by Geoff Dyer. Berger was one of our most incisive thinkers about visual culture, and the essay is an excellent reminder of his sharp mind. I hope you'll read it when you have time. Here's a PDF download:
Finally, many of you know writer Richard Powers, whose critically acclaimed novel The Overstory won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 2019. It turns out Powers' first book, Three Farmers on Their Way to a Dance, published in 1985, was inspired by Sander's photograph. I used to own this book, but I can't seem to find it. It sounds fascinating, so I will likely be buying another copy. I suspect some of you will enjoy it.
This was a rambling post, but I had fun revisiting these images and ideas today and thought you might, too. Do you have a favorite Sander photo? I’d love to hear about it. If you liked these pictures, you can see more Sander on the Museum of Modern Art website. It's a lazy Sunday here in Madison. I hope you're feeling good wherever you are in the world. Take care, friends. More soon!
What a fascinating and thoughtful essay.
Terrific, Andy! I'm a big fan of John Berger, but was not familiar with Understanding a Photograph. Just ordered it. Thanks for the recommendation!