Communications Breakdown

Man holding Cellphone, London UK 2006 from UKOK

All reproduction rights reserved Wm. Greiner

I have never quite understood the value in an artist talking about the art. The art is the communication. If it needs to be explained, it has failed!

It's the end of the world as we know it....

M.I.T. Nuclear Reactor - Massachusetts Avenue, Cambridge MA 1979

All reproduction rights reserved Wm. Greiner

"The older notions of photographers physically exploring their world may have in some ways come to pass. The Egglestons, Shores, Levitts, Winogrands ventured out with perhaps only the loosest intentions or framework of a "project" and allowed the world to provide. It is common now for artists to conceive of a project first and then impose that view almost filter-like upon what they are looking at. I would never argue that one approach is better than the other as long as - in the case of the latter - the work doesn't become a mere illustration of an idea. For me, I learned photography through an ability to trust in the world and a rather strong distrust of "ideas," so clever frameworks rarely excite unless the work from image to image surprises and transcends. "

JEFF LADD

http://5b4.blogspot.com/2010/11/new-american-picture-by-doug-rickard.html

Mr. Fix-It

Man under Red Pick-up, Baton Rouge LA 2011

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Mr. Holigan , I always thought was an odd last name, since it sounded Irish but he was obviously black. In an impulsive moment one day I asked him about it, and he replied without hesitation that his mother was African-American and his dad was Irish. Mr. Holigan had a University decal on his truck, he told me he was college educated, but chose to be a truck mechanic. He could fix anything he said.

He did not have a repair shop, but instead went to where the trucks were broken down. He was sort of a modern day truck doctor who made house calls. He was known around town as Mr. Fix-It.

Flirting with Fiction

UNHAPPY SWIMMER, Miami Beach FL 2005

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Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling
Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling and into the night

So can you understand?
Why I want a daughter while I'm still young
I wanna hold her hand
And show her some beauty
Before this damage is done

But if it's too much to ask, it's too much to ask
Then send me a son*

* ARCADE FIRE - THE SUBURBS

A Letter to Jeff Lamb

HOPE MAUSOLEUM , New Orleans LA 2004 from the series Fallen Paradise

All reproduction rights reserved Wm. Greiner

Dear Jeff,

I really did not know you as a flesh and blood person. We connected on Facebook, like so many do. Through your photographs, mostly of New Orleans , and your posting about your wife, Leyla and your dog, Sonny,I felt like I knew you.

We talked about the city, photography and life. You posted updates often, it was like a running dialogue and I would respond. You were making some fine images of Detroit too. A city I have never visited but connected with in part because of your pictures.

And then, I was busy and did not notice that you had become silent. A recent message to you, responded to by Leyla,told me something was very wrong. I found your obituary after a search, how else, online. I was as sad as if we had been neighbors and drinking buddies for 20 years.

I am sorry I did not notice. I am sorry it took so long! I so appreciated your passion for New Orleans, photography, your family and your dog. You are gone but you are not forgotten.

Thank you my friend. God bless you and rest in peace.

Wm.

So I said....

Trash, Baton Rouge LA 2007

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My work explores the relationship between postmodern discourse and emotional memories.

With influences as diverse as Kierkegaard and Frida Kahlo, new tensions are created from both traditional and modern textures.

Ever since I was a child I have been fascinated by the traditional understanding of the human condition. What starts out as hope soon becomes corroded into a hegemony of lust, leaving only a sense of decadence and the prospect of a new synthesis.

As shifting impressions become frozen through boundaried and diverse practice, the viewer is left with a statement of the limits of our world.*

*Words by David James Ross

http://10k.aneventapart.com/Uploads/262/#

Now & Then

Steven, Baton Rouge LA 2011
Steven, Baton Rouge LA 2008

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Joe is 90!

Joseph Neville Greiner, New Orleans LA 1979

All reproduction rights reserved Wm. Greiner

My dad turns 90 today. I am so blessed to have had this great man in my life, my whole life!

I love you. Happy birthday.

DEAD BIRD SINGS

Plastic Bird, Covington LA 2011

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We've all been waiting

We've been wondering - will we ever know the truth?

What it's like washing windows

When you know that there are pigeons on the roof?

Wake up - leave your body lying there

It's like another - just another wrinkle in the sheets

Wake up - I'm gonna poke you if you don't wake up

You remember how to fly?

We've all been waiting

We've been wondering - will we ever know the truth?

What it's like washing windows

When you know that there are pigeons on the roof?*

*Widespread Panic: Pigeons

Breaking up is hard to do....

Farmland and Subdivision, Baton Rouge LA 2011
Cane Field on River Road, Baton Rouge LA 2011
Highland Road Bayou, Baton Rouge LA 2011

All reproduction rights reserved Wm. Greiner

My series, Land’s End, which is about melting Polar ice and it’s potential affects on our coastlines is done. However, I cannot seem to stop , or let go of the idea and the work.

It’s like the relationship which just won’t end.

TOOLS of a TRADE

Plasterer Tools, Baton Rouge LA 2011

All reproduction rights reserved Wm. Greiner

I watched these guys work on a house for weeks. They recoated one side at a time.

In the morning I would wave and in the evening, almost finished for the day, they would wave. This went on until one day, they were finished. They sat out in front of the house, under a tree and drinking something cold.

I pulled to the back, where all our driveways are located. The boots and tools looked beautiful and harmonious.

I made the picture quickly, because I would not be able to explain the beauty I did see.