Photography by David Ondrik

A number of years ago I found a copy of The Business of Fancydancing, the book that established Sherman Alexie as one of the major lyric voices of our times, at the local used book store. Therein I eventually came across the poem “At Navajo Monument Valley Tribal School,” with the subtitle, “from the photograph by Skeet McAuley.” I’d never head of Skeet McAuley, but I did find the photo in question on the above web site. There’s not much information on McAuley on the Internet, and these days, that’s the standard way to find out about things. So I gave up finding out much more about him.

"Navajo window washer, Monument Valley Tribal Park, Arizona, 1984" Skeet McAuley

In February 2010, I was invited to a photography dinner party. The hostess has an amazing collection in her home, including a large print of “Navajo Monument Valley Tribal School near Goulding, Utah,” which is the complete title of McAuley’s image. Of all the great photography on her walls, it was clear that most of her guests don’t recognize or comment on that image, at least anymore. I quickly found myself seated on a couch with a copy of McAuley’s book, Sign Language, in my hands. It was published by the Aperture Foundation in 1989. Of course, since it was a dinner party, I didn’t spend too long looking it over. I did find the photos of the Navajo Reservation  compelling, and relatively contemporary.

"Apache women grading lumber at tribal mill, White River, Arizona, 1985" by Skeet McAuley

So the book lodged in my head and I eventually went to the University of New Mexico Fine Arts Library to look for it. It’s not there. Yup, the Fine Arts Library, which actually has two copies of the Extended Document catalog (another mild obsession of mine), doesn’t have an Aperture monograph from 1989. Instead, it can be found over at the main University library, Zimmerman. Not in a photography section, but the Native American Studies section. Although glad to have found a copy, I was disappointed that the art institution appears to have declined the book.

"Buffalo along Interstate 70 near Golden, Colorado, 1982" by Skeet McAuley

And this sent me to wondering what happened to Skeet McAuley? Having Aperture print a book of your work seems like a pretty impressive measure of success. But then what? McAuley has a web site, but it hasn’t been updated since 2001. You won’t find much with a Google Image Search and his previous collectors will apparently be surprised if you recognize his work. Amazon is selling Sign Language for somewhere between $2 and $35, which is awesome because it’s a great book, but bad from a different standpoint. So, of course, I’m not sure what happened to Skeet McAuley.

"Apache drummer after Sunrise Ceremony, White River, Arizona, 1985" by Skeet McAuley

But I am sure that when Sign Language was printed, McAuley couldn’t predict that his photograph would inspire a genius poet to write about wild horses. And that in turn would cause a high school photography teacher to use these works as part of his lesson plans. Which would further some curiosity about a now obscure photographer, causing at least one person to rediscover this body of work.

"Overlooking coal conveyor toward Navajo Mountain from Black Mesa, Arizona, 1985" by Skeet McAuley

You can never know the route your work will take to fresh eyes; the important thing is to just keep making it. The truth is out there.

Recently I’ve been thinking about the state of contemporary photography. It’s probably related to reading Charlotte Cotton’s “The Photograph as Contemporary Art,” my interview with Tom Barrow, and Brian Steele’s response to the interview. I’m sure it’s also a reaction to my Albuquerque Community Farming photos, which is the first body of work I’ve done in over 10 years that has me considering focal lengths, f-stops, film speed, color balance, etc.

The long version of my thought process is that this style of photography is very popular right now:

"The Elder Sister," oil on canvas, William Bouguereau, 1869

The above painting is by William Bouguereau, a student of the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris. I’m not sure how it happened, but this image fits in perfectly with the work of many contemporary photographers. Forget Eggelston and Shore; Bouguereau is where it’s at. Not convinced? This photograph, chosen by the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art’s Corey Keller, won the 2009 CENTER Single Image Competition:

"The Orange Towel," Betsy Schneider

It’s pretty much the same image: soft lighting, intimate moment, young scamp. Aside from specific references to photography in her juror’s statement, it is otherwise difficult to determine if Ms. Keller is discussing “The Orange Towel” or “The Elder Sister:”

I was immediately drawn to this portrait for its honesty and quiet beauty. The connection between the photographer and her subject is apparent, and the moment and gesture are authentic. I appreciate the essentially photographic nature of this picture, the placement of the figure within the frame(s), and particularly the light that highlights the most mundane details, like the texture of the fraying terry toweling, while also conjuring the atmosphere of a late afternoon at the end of summer.

So my question is, why did a curator of photography at an institution like SFMOMA select such a visually conservative image? I don’t think there’s a single Bouguereau in the museum’s painting collection; rather you have the likes of Matisse, Braque, deKooning, Diebenkorn, and Johns. These are all artists that transformed what they saw and stripped away the literalness, thereby creating artwork that isn’t instantly absorbed and is infused with mystery. Most of the painters mentioned did their major works at least 40 years ago. They’re not exactly contemporary and what they brought to the table of visual expression is no longer new. This isn’t meant to drag out that mauled horse, the discussion of whether photography exists in the oppressive shadow of painting. It’s irrelevant; photography is clearly a respected art medium on its own. But why is it so stuck in its 19th century roots?

"Missiles," toned gelatin silver print, Bill Bradish, 1994

The above image is technically very straight forward; it’s a negative made with a camera, printed on silver paper and toned in chemicals. Yet it wonderfully frustrates many of the simple questions people want ask of photography: What is it? Have I been there? Couldn’t it be focused better?

There is a rich history of artists working to push the medium into new territory. The 1970s started the careers of John Baldessari and Betty Hahn; the 1980s Doug & Mike Starn, Holly Roberts, and Barbara Kruger. Richard Prince is in there somewhere too. The 2000s brought us Thomas Ruff, and Doug Keys. More recently, Curtis Mann and Chris McCaw are pushing the medium. The thing is, many of these artists don’t identify themselves as photographers, even though they work with the medium.

"Loudspeaker (Beirut)," bleached c-print, Curtis Mann, 2007

And why aren’t there more of them? I don’t understand why the last few years of the Critical Mass Top 50 has so much Bouguereau. Same for the recent CENTER Choice Awards. Maybe the question I’m struggling with is, why are so many advocates of contemporary photography still promoting pictures like it’s 1869?