blur

My photographic hero, Hiroshi Sugimoto, introduced a new twist to architectural photography, at least to me: scrapping the notion of clear focus to force a new perspective. As he says:

 

"Early-twentieth century Modernism greatly transformed our lives, liberating the human spirit from untold decoration. No longer needing to draw attention from God, all aristocratic attempts at ostentation have fallen away. At last we avail ourselves of mechanical aids far beyond our human powers, attaining the freedom to shape things at will.

 

"I decided to trace the beginnings of our age via architecture. Pushing my old large-format camera's focal length out to twice-infinity -- with no stops on the bellows rail, the view through the lens was an utter blur -- I discovered that superlative architecture survives, however dissolved, the onslaught of blurred photography. Thus I began erosion-testing architecture for durability, completely melting away many of the buildings in the process."

  

Good architecture can certainly survive a bit of blur; that simplicity of form transcends a lot of abuse. Furthermore, the blur forces the viewer to focus (as it were) not on the details of the structure but of its overall shape.  I started my efforts in earnest when I lived in Sydney. I floated by the famous Opera House every day as I commuted to and from work on a ferry. It is such a familiar site around the world that it is difficult to photograph it without getting a "postcard view." This technique allowed me to copy one of my photographic heroes, sure, but also to look at architecture in a different way.