Genius stitching and polaroid by: That Kate.Posts including pictures from my Flickr account.
Genius stitching and polaroid by: That Kate.Perched among the tall buildings in downtown San Francisco, my office can feel like a nest in a tall tree. Yesterday evening, the birds that live atop the Transbay terminal swirled up to, and around, the windows of our conference room, and the aerie-like feeling was stronger than ever. One bird even landed, briefly, on the ledge of the window. I have no idea what kind of birds they are, what brought them to us, or what they hope to achieve. But I am in awe of them.
Great design hits you on many levels. During our staff meeting today, Nick gave a nice example of the way it can hit the subconscious: When you shut the door of a luxury car, like a BMW, it feels different. And this feeling may not even register in the conscious mind, but I think it matters. The feeling of solidity and integrity during that action is unique and lasting, even though it occupies a tiny sliver around the experience of driving. It reinforces quality, security, class — critical elements of luxury.
I hesitate to admit this in a public forum, but I don’t think I’ve ever purchased a new piece of silverware. Our silverware drawer is a hodgepodge of airline spoons, thrift store forks, garage sale knives, odds and ends of various shapes and sizes. But you’ve got to wonder whether the experience of eating wouldn’t be greatly enhanced — even unconsciously — by great silverware, like the set above by craftsman David Mellor. I saw it yesterday at Heath Ceramics in Sausalito, and even a philistine like me could tell that it’s got something going on. For $160, you can find out for yourself.
If you do, listen to your subconscious, and let me know what it says.
Okay, one last political thing. In the wee hours before yesterday’s inauguration, a genius prankster named Alex Zecca reportedly covered every “Bush” street sign from downtown to the Marina with a sticker that said “Obama.” I heard about it when I got into work, but missed the chance to see it for myself. Luckily, Vanessa Naylon saw it happen. Awesome.
What we have here is both a failure to communicate and an ingenious workaround. To Kristen & Rob: Kudos.
See, I criticize Flickr, and then this thing comes along to demonstrate once and for all its inherent goodness. No Flickr stylez or post-processing necessary. Via Sorry I Missed Your Party and BuzzFeed.
It’s hard to ignore the fact that Flickr promotes a distinct style of photography; I say “promotes” because Flickr’s “Explore” tab displays photos that are deemed “interesting” by Flickr’s “interestingness” algorithm, and the photos in this area are generally characterized by what many are now calling “Flickr style.” This is shorthand for “extensively post-processed” — color-corrected, cropped, montaged, and so on — techniques that turn simple pastoral landscapes into vivid, science-fantasy dreamscapes like the example below.
This was in Sunday’s interesting pool, and it’s a pretty strong example of the “Flickr style,” i.e. heavy-handed, post-processed and much-adored by like-minded members of the community. Photo: James Neely
I don’t patently dislike post-processing, but I find that the photos deemed “interesting” frequently have a creepy unreality about them, a flatness, an obsessive visual “perfection.” The result is that many of these photos seem like scenes from Dune, or Lewis Carroll, or a Bjork video, or a Thomas Kinkade landscape. Everything is in focus, perfectly lit, tightly composed. In short, I dislike “interestingness” because it feels like a sort of Pixar-ization of photography. (I love Pixar). But I don’t like that CG-esque feel creeping into a medium that, for me, derives its essence from its simplicity and imperfection.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m down with post-processing and unreality
I just appreciate when post-processing supports the natural aspects of the photo, when it adds layers to the scene. The photo below is called “The Flooded Grave,” and the photographer is Jeff Wall. It’s a montage of 75 separate photographs from two separate graveyards and Wall’s studio. Why all the cutting, pasting and blending? Well, If you look closely, you’ll see that there’s actually a small coral reef growing at the bottom of the grave.
Wall says, “I worked with oceanographers to create a momentary fragment of a real undersea corner. I didn’t want an aquarium display, a cross-section of sea-life from the area, or anything like that. I wanted it to be a snapshot of everyday life at a certain depth of sea water.” Read more at the Tate Modern’s online catalog.So where does the Flickr style come from?
I’ve been excited to talk about Virginia Heffernan’s article in last week’s New York Times, Sepia No More. She addresses the disconcerting popularity of high-dynamic range cheesiness in the Flickr style, and she strikes at the heart of what is emerging as a formula for popularity on Flickr. She discusses Rebekka Gudleifsdóttir, one of the Flickr style’s “leading proponents:”
[Gudleifsdóttir] discovered ... how to create images that would look good shrunk, in “thumbnail” form; and how to flirt with the site’s visitors in the comments area to keep them coming back. As perhaps is always the case with artists, Gudleifsdottir’s evolution as a photographer was bound up in the evolution of her modus operandi, a way of navigating the institutions and social systems that might gain her a following and a living.
Creating images that look good shrunk
I’m intrigued by the interpretation of the UI’s effect on the Flickr style, i.e. that the Flickr interface for browsing thumbnails informs the way in which people compose and upload photos. It makes sense to me. The browsing mechanism is tightly-tiled matrix, so photographers are going to want to craft individual elements that look good when they’re (a) cropped to be square, (b) shrunk down small, and © snugly packed together.

Here’s an example from a photographer I like, a nicely differentiated matrix with some intriguing juxtapositions. Photos: Feedbacklove.
Is “Flickr style” a self-fulfilling prophecy?
Maybe the early users and founders were graphic designers? Maybe they really liked glossy, vivid stuff that often looks like the background of beer billboards? Whatever it is, I feel like the “Flickr style” is much less free-form than most may think. The formula behind “interestingness,” as stated on the site: “Where the clickthroughs are coming from; who comments on it and when; who marks it as a favorite; its tags and many more things which are constantly changing.” Interestingness as a function of the community actions makes sense. Tagging, assigning photos to groups, favoriting, commenting — all of these things seem like useful vehicles. But my sense is that everything that’s being folded into “interestingness” is coming from a fairly closed system, a group of like-minded people with similar tastes promoting the same stuff again and again. Back and forth, forever. ))<>((
Un-interestingness
I’ve got a list of my own “un-interesting” photographers, mostly gleaned from the group I Shoot Film. I also follow the feeds of a few Flickr photographers — This Is a Wakeup Call, Feedbacklove, and Last Leaf, to name a few.
Still, it seems like most interesting stuff still lives outside of Flickr. I look at SUCKAPANTS and The Constant Siege pretty often, both of which can be NSFW, by the way.
It’s kinda strange (and thrilling) to browse through the many alleyways and avenues of Flickr and suddenly unearth a photo of ... yourself. Just now I came across this picture of myself and a shadowy figure, who I suspect is UX it-guy Jan Chipchase taken last summer during UX Week. My hazy recollection: We met and hung out during a late-night trek through the Mall to the Washington Monument, a epic walk that included UX Week speakers, the entire event staff, and the multi-talented Maggie Mason of Mighty Goods (and, more recently it seems, Mighty Junior), who recorded the journey here. We left late, got back *really* late, and somehow Jan looked none the worse for wear during his keynote the next morning; epic, indeed.

It started in London. I was there for, wow, how long? Three days? Seemed like three weeks. Cold, rainy, dark at 4pm, transcontinental travel, Ambien, fish & chips, trucks unloading just outside the window the Radisson all night long. I wasn’t sure if I was sick, tired, both, half-awake, or what. Good times, as always. Thanks, London.

On to Paris, where there was a rail strike going on. We were here for a total of 24 hours, maybe, but it was AWESOME. Amazing light, cool old people, and insomnia just meant that I got up early enough to get some good pictures of the sunrise. Is it impossible to take a bad picture here? Champagne bottle on the curb. A not-so-interesting subject, unless it is backed by the winter light of PARIS. I took like 500 pictures on the trip, 5 of which were good and they were all in Paris.

Finally, Poland. These are sparrows, I think, swirling around a big plaza in the middle of Warsaw. Trippy.

A couple weeks after I got back from Europe, and just as I was emerging from an Ambien haze, I went to India for a couple of days. Just, you know, to check it out. Was two days really long enough to take it all in? Maybe not. Better make it three so I make sure I see everything. In reality, I was there to teach a class, and I would have loved to stay longer. Instead, I left immediately after so that I could attend ...

Adlai and Shinobu’s wedding! Good times. To be honest, it was also a bit of blur, but I remember enjoying every waking moment, even if those moments were technically half-waking.

For the holidays, Hawaii. I did some chocolate-making with Mara and her family. I drank that milkshake, for sure.

This crazy rock was last seen on the beach in the central coast of California, north of Santa Cruz and near some moaning elephant seals.




















