I just got back from British Columbia at the Lúz Gallery doing one-on-one portfolio reviews. One of the photographers I met with was Allan Mandell, a nature and landscape photographer who has provided images for over 60 books and numerous other publications. We ended up talking about his work for three hours. And in the course of our discussions, one of the many topics that came up was how to name a body of work.
He was in the process of moving away from the traditional, commercial imagery he had taken for years, images of Kyoto gardens that you’ve probably seen, just didn’t know they were his, and towards more of a personal, intimate perspective on flowers. The prints are large and have a meditative quality, with a beautifully printed palette. Here are a few samples of his work:
© Allan Mandell
© Allan Mandell
We talked only briefly about the name of this work, which as of yet, is undetermined. Some of the initial thoughts on what the name should be focused on using the word “flower” or a reference to the natural world. What I encouraged him to think about, was, Is this work really about flowers?. Or, is it more about abstraction, the process of looking very closely at things, or even just edges?
The conversation got me thinking about the mistakes people make in naming their work. Specifically, when they rely on titles based on either equipment (Holga Pictures), subject (Portraits), context (Nudes in the Landscape), location (Wherever, USA), etc. The photographers doing this fail to realize how many other messages are being sent to viewers beyond what they intend. Messages like: Does this person really understand their work? Do they see one specific part of the production process as more valuable than the rest? Have they not taken the time to enhance the work with a more appropriate title?
I have gone through my own naming evolutions. Displaced did not start off with that title. At first, it was titled Nova Scotia. Then, New Scotland. That stuck for a while until East of Ordinary felt right. Finally, I settled on Displaced. This transformation happened over two years. And it was a result of my not initially taking the time to reflect on my own work.
It was so easy to just call it Nova Scotia. It seemed fitting. I mean, the pictures were taken there, right? That should work, right? Then, I thought, naaah, needs to be more original, more unusual sounding. So, I decided to change it to the English translation from the Latin Nova Scotia—New Scotland. Perfecto! That should do it! Then, the more I sat with that name, the more I thought, Am I referencing something here? Is this in some way talking about what is new, rebirth? What about Old Scotland? Is that a part of this? The answers were not pleasant realizations. Back to the naming board. I started looking for phrases or words used particularly in or about Nova Scotia. That’s when I found the phrase, East of Ordinary, which was a local phrase used to describe Cape Breton Island. Done! It was poetic, it was descriptive of the location, it was personal to the place. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Again. It wasn’t about me, or the work. It was still all about the place. I couldn’t get past naming this work based on the subject’s location.
I was stuck.
It wasn’t until a year later, when I started working on the book, and I combined Displaced: Part II with Part I that I realized, this isn’t about Nova Scotia, really. It’s about me, what I was going through at the time, and about the breakup of my marriage. It was about being lost and directionless. And the title needed to reflect that.
Displaced. Bingo. That was it. And it has felt right since then.
So what can you do if you’re stuck? I suggest the following:
I feel strongly that this is a missed opportunity for us to not only communicate more clearly, but to seduce potential followers/buyers into wondering exactly comprises that work titled Sound of Summer Running…
you were right, it should come from within…
Once again, you offer such a gift to us photographers (and all artists). I have never seen or heard a discussion of this topic before and it is a thoughtful guide. Thanks!
I’ve also devoted some thought to the intangible rewards of titling. I think few can dispute the power of a title to infuse an artwork with more meaning, but it is sometimes difficult to acknowledge that a bad title can just as easily suck the life from an otherwise strong work. I appreciated the fact that you didn’t dance around this point here.
If you’re interested in another (perhaps more off the cuff) approach to this topic please visit: http://jeffreytbaker.blogspot.com/2009/06/titling-artwork-pt-1.html for the first in a three part exploration of titling artwork.