Last night I went to see Wolf Parade at the Paradise (for free! at a sold out show!), and while this would seem to be unrelated to photography/art, give me a chance to make the connection. I recently read a blog post where the author was describing the difference between his reaction to music and his reaction to photography (I wish I could remember whose blog so I could link to it), specifying that he thought that photography would never move him the way that music does. I’ve spent some time thinking about this, and even though both music and photography are art, my response to each is really different. I’m someone who usually processes and responds to things solely with my head and not my heart or my body, and though I’m very passionate about photography, rarely does it engage my heart or my body. I can spend hours looking and thinking and being excited about and inspired by the images I see, but one good song will knock me on my ass and leave me crying and aching and weak. And I’m a visual person— my memory is tied to vision and spacial relationships, so what is it about music that gets to me? Or, on the flip side, what is it about visual art that doesn’t? I don’t think I have an answer.
I do, however, have a link to some visual work that has recently torn me up inside, but this could be because of the writing that accompanies the images: Phillip Toledano’s Days with My Father. The images are beautiful and tender and sad, and if the writing doesn’t make you feel something, I’m not sure what will.
