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Curtis Hendricks
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Definition Of A Rose

3/13/2019

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I’ve said before how much I love working with florals; I have more of them in my portfolio than anything else. Sometimes, though, I think the flower is looking back at me saying, “Why are you bothering?”

As I’ve stated, florals are sort of automatic abstracts, and often florals don’t require great effort. It takes a good deal of work to mess up a decently composed and lit photographic capture of a floral. Not that I haven’t put that work in on occasion; sometimes the work pays off, and sometimes it doesn’t. But florals are like sunsets – they don’t necessarily require great artistic input to create an attractive work. It’s hard for me to walk past strikingly beautiful florals without pulling out a camera.

​I didn’t do much here, just some edging and lighting; enough to bring out the definition of the rose while also softening it. I think sometimes the trick an artist plays in abstract realism is a balancing act of just how far to go; just how much ‘abstract’ can a work take before loses touch with reality and potentially becomes just a blob? It’s a question that has no answer, and one I never tire of playing with.

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    Curtis Hendricks

    All my life I have had to learn to do things differently. To see the world differently.

    Art attracted me from the beginning. Almost every home in the tiny farming village where I grew up had DaVinci’s ‘Last Supper’ on the wall. I would come across modern abstract art in magazines and be absolutely fascinated by the colors and techniques.

    But there were no artists in my village. No one understood what modern art was. Or why it was. But there was an appreciation for photography.

    I began shooting with a 1960 model Agfa rangefinder fixed-lens 35mm camera and learned to use darkroom techniques to finish my work. Graduating to a single lens reflex camera I worked primarily with Kodachrome. Digital photography opened a new world. The computer became the artboard I never had; the darkroom I could never afford. I discovered there would never be a camera or a lens that could capture what I saw in my head – that, I had to learn to create on my own.

    I use the photograph the same way a painter uses a charcoal sketch – as a starting place. I squeeze out the unseen hiding between the pixels; the angels, the demons of my own imagination.

    ​Light. Color. Darkness. Perspective. Introversion. Mystery. Love.

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