At first glance, I didn't think I was going to like Sally Mann. My style of photography is vastly different from hers; I dabble in weird angles and high contrast colors while she takes what I think of as the obvious angle and does solely black and white photography. I'm all about digital and editing on the computer and her style is extremely vintage and she manages to do all her work by lugging around an old fashioned camera that's bigger than she is. She does portraits, I have a fear of my subject looking at the camera. She likes country landscapes, I prefer skyscrapers and architecture.
But as I continued to watch her biographical documentary, I realized just how incredible she is. She is literally living the life (not the life I ever dreamed of for myself): She's got the most wonderful husband, three beautiful children, living on her own working ranch, and doing exactly what she loves. Being a neurotic perfectionist myself, I completely admire the fact that she embraces imperfections. Being a writer, I completely admire her amazing use and expression of words. She is truly an artist.
And yet, she's human. She faces disappointments just as anyone else does. I was able to completely relate to her when the Pace gallery decided to cancel her showing of "What Remains" after she had been working on it for four years. In my four years of high school, I worked my way up to the top of the ladder in my own passion: theatre. I had participated in every show, befriended the director, and made myself a prominent figure in the department to the point that I was elected president. From there, my goal was to get a leading role in the musical. I worked with various voice teachers and focused all of my energy into being the top soprano in my school. In the end, I was blown away that I didn't get the part and was put in the chorus. It felt as though I had spent four years on nothing. As Sally Mann put it, it was like when a bird flies into a glass window. But it has to get up, shake off its feathers, check to see if anything is broken, and keep flying. I realized later that I just didn't fit the roll, or at least the reputation and type-casting I had built up for myself didn't. Despite the embarrassment and disappointment, I tried out for all three shows this quarter at DU, got called back for the mainstage play, and got the lead in a senior project show. As Sally found a more fitting venue in D.C., I wound up finding something better too.
After watching these documentaries about these photographers and listening to the advice and musings of my professor, Roddy, I've finally realized what it is I love about photographers. They see the world in a completely different manner. Through their eyes, everything is beautiful, and they take the task of recording life upon themselves. Sometimes it comes down to making money, as it did for Annie Liebovitz and sometimes it comes down to prestige and reputation, as it did for Sally Mann. That's just life. But they manage to stay sane through it all (or at least as sane as an artist can be). At the end of the day, they are the ones that understand life better than anyone else.
