Interview: Noel Rodo-Vankeulen

Today’s interview is with Noel Rodo-Vankeulen, founder of the We Can’t Paint network- an online curatorial space for photography. Noel has focused on creating a “multi-layered experience with the photographic medium on the Internet beyond the structure of a web log” and is especially interested in bringing back the “reexamination and sense of permanence that is so intrinsic to a media such as print”, which the fleeting nature of blogs tend to lack. I highly suggest reading Noel’s smart editor’s letter that accompanied the first issue of We Can’t Paint’s online magazine, Wassenaar. Without further ado…

Jake Stangel: Can you tell me a little bit about the history of the We Can’t Paint network- why you originally started your blog, and why you’ve added Wassenaar and the Projects section?

Noel Rodo-Vankeulen: The We Can’t Paint Network was initially a free Wordpress blog I started back in December of last year. Prior to authoring WCP, I found myself dissatisfied with the lack of discourse at university related to issues concerning contemporary photography (both in and out of class), so I was actively looking for an alternative outlet to voice my opinions. I had already been a regular reader of photography blogs, specifically the huge proliferation authored by Americans, and I admired both their sense of community and hunger to share ideas. I don’t think individuals who live outside of Canada realize the absolute lack of opportunity that exists for artists in my country. Not only is the market significantly small and relatively closed to emerging photographers (this includes the support of commercial galleries and curators), but our much beloved, and sometimes wrongly bragged about grant system is immensely specific and exclusive.

Nevertheless, during the Christmas break of 2007 I decided it was time to take advantage of the online community and just start getting engaged. After months of posts and a tremendous amount of ongoing encouragement from photographers like Shane Lavalette, Will Steacy, Justin James Reed, and Tim Briner (to name just a few), I decided to expand the blog into what is now called the We Can’t Paint Network. With this expansion I got myself a dotcom and added Wassenaar as a way to more fully explore photography online. There are limits to blogging, just as there are limits to online magazines, so the addition of WCP Projects was created to cover the ambiguous stance of cut and paste web-based “exhibitions”.

JS: It seems like your inbox has been keeping you busy. What has been the reaction to Wassenaar, from photographers, from blogger-types, and from other professionals in the photo industry?

NRV: Even though everything is still in-progress (this has a lot to do with authoring the network predominantly on my own) it has been amazing. The blogging community has reacted favorably, but I’m most impressed with the amount of publishers, critics, and institutions that are actively taking Wassenaar and other web specific publications seriously. For myself, one of the biggest compliments is when I come across an artist’s CV or commercial gallery with a link to an article or feature published on the We Can’t Paint Network. It’s a sign that the Internet, online magazines, and more importantly blogs (if well written), are slowly becoming a contending modes of criticism and discourse within the art world. Of course, as you have stated, and as any blogger knows, these projects take up a significant amount of your time so I think it’s important that you draw from the community. Johanna Reed, whose honest and somewhat cinematic interviews I’ll feature until Wassenaar goes bust, really sets the tone of what I want my online magazine to be – experimental and willing to look into all photography as art (be it fashion, fine art, amateur, etc). When it’s all said and done, I’ve always been equally interested in photographing and writing so regardless of the response, be it good or bad, I wouldn’t give it up for anything. It’s the chance, and the failure or success that comes with driving headlong into something that has motivated me the most.

Wassenaar screenshot, photograph by Julia Baum

JS: Tell me a little about the submissions you get. What percentage of the work are you genuinely excited about? Are you seeing any photographic trends for better or worse?

NRV: I would have to say that about 85% of the work submitted to either the blog, or for my open calls is incredibly excellent and is very much worth getting excited about. However, I’m not going to deny the fact that because I’m drawn to a particular aesthetic, or what you could call a specific conceptual convention of photography, the percentage of work that I consider “good” or exciting is somewhat subjective – but in the end, good photography is good photography and that is the deciding factor.

As for the emergence of trends, there are clearly identifiable principles of picture-making that seem to pop-up regularly, specifically concentrations which could be considered regional or even national. For the most part this has a lot to do with a photographer’s education (in whatever form it takes – peers, institutions, etc) and how that environment can influence a style or way of working. On the other hand, I’m always a little skeptical in pointing out what is currently in fashion because these web-based trends are just that – web-based. Quite often they are so fleeting, so primarily explicit to only a few related images, that they cannot be particularly emblematic of what could be considered a tendency or trend.

Yet, there are groups which have risen in popularity and seem to present and breed ongoing trends of photographing almost as conventions in themselves. Fjord is a perfect example. I’ve heard these artists referred to as a “grouping of clichéd young photographers” (photos of friends sleeping, naked girlfriends, horses, the road trip, etc), but we must not forget that art moves in mysterious ways; what was once considered cliché could in the future be wholly indicative of our contemporary experience. We must ask ourselves: what are emerging photographers talking about and why is it valid to them? How does their ability to organize and gain popularity by grouping similar tendencies of photographing signify shifts in the medium?

Looking at the broader context of art, there have always been transformations of what we consider to be serious art. Who could have imagined that symbolism and art-historical reflexivity would ever come back as it did in early 2004 with “New Gothic/Neo-Goth” artists like David Altmejd, Sue de Beer, and Matthew Greene. So, trends for better or for worse? I don’t know. When photography on the Internet is such a closed world of judgment to begin with, I think it’s pretty hard to speculate by looking through the telescope of tradition.

Wassenaar screenshot (interview question by Johanna Reed, photo by Lina Scheynius)

JS: There’s no denying that the internet is playing a massive role in the way that we as photographers learn about new work and digest it. It’s simply amazing how much work is accessible through our fingertips. It’s a novel and powerful force, and I don’t think we’ve come to understand its even a quarter of its long-term potential.

The predominant way to unearth new photographers and information has been through blogs in these recent years. However, as you point out, “the ability of these spaces [blogs], while needed more than ever in our current global economy, lack the reexamination and sense of permanence that is so intrinsic to a media such as print. Artist’s work, book reviews, and interviews, have all become “flavors of the day,” stacked upon each other and eventually buried in the monthly archives. Quite simply, these notions were troubling… how do we, the next generation of photographers, curators, bloggers, and viewers, encounter and treat work in a realm which is (whether we like it or not) becoming as popular as the gallery experience?”

Is it fair to say Wassenaar is your solution to this problem, at least for now? Now that your first issue is out, with a second on the way, tell me how your project has fared in reality. What has this format of online exhibition accomplished, and what does it still lack?

NRV: I think it’s correct to assume that Wassenaar and other web specific publications like 1000 Words, the newly transplanted Photo-Eye Magazine, SeeSaw, Ruby Mag, Triple Canopy, etc, have filled an unintentional void left over from blogging, although, in no way do they replace blogs. Online magazines (or online exhibitions as they are sometimes referred to) have, at least for the time being, inspired an interest in looking a little more closely at a specific photographer featured over a lengthier period of time. Where blogs promote fast-looking, or quick browsing, the exclusivity of an online publication can slow down the viewer’s experience with an image.

Of course this highlights the drawbacks of the digital experience, and they are plentiful. Print quality for example, which is frequently the crux of a work produced from processes like Dye Transfer or Carbon Pigment Printing, is completely lost. I’ve often wondered just how many photographs we will pass over, both in judging (online competitions, open calls for work) and our daily browsing, because we’ve missed the physical print. The Internet has changed the way in which we view photographs in an online context as we are more likely to be attracted to content, etc, rather than the photograph as an object.

To go even further, size, or resolution, is also an issue, both for Wassenaar and all online publications. Not only is it hard to find a compromise of how large to present an artists work online (without alienating an audience), but it seems to be a barrier that so many photographers are unsure of and sometimes unwilling to let go of. Of course when it is all said and done, the end result of what the viewer experiences is dictated by one important element, the choice between presenting content in flash or html. I’m not going to point fingers here but some of these flash-based magazines have absolutely horrible image quality. The presentation of the photographs is so “compressed” and devoid of life that I sometimes wonder what is the point of even using the images in the first place - these are some of the problems that plague online publishing. How will all of these issues be resolved? I cannot even guess.

JS: Shane Lavalette brought up a great point in his blog about the recent proliferation of these internet photo collectives/portals/galleries. He writes, “It seems that a lot of these kinds of websites have been popping up over the last year or so, with the creation of Humble Arts, the Fjord collective, Flak Photo, Noel Rodo-Vankeulen’s We Can’t Paint network (including the recent launch of Wassenaar), Joerg Colberg’s Conscientious Google Group and a plethora of others. It’s becoming increasingly clear that photographers are craving something beyond what blogs offer, something more dynamic where conversations and images aren’t so easily lost in the archives. Perhaps these “photography hubs” are the answer, the next step in centralizing the overwhelming amount of information that proliferates the Internet… But, I wonder, how is everyone in this online photography community expected to “come together” if there are so many places to choose from?”

Let’s talk about numbers. Too much chocolate currently averages about 700 hits a day (though it is brand new), roughly 350 people have applied to join, you said you have 300 new emails, from one day, sitting in your inbox.

I think we can establish that photographers around the globe are actively seeking places to show their work and communicate with one another. It shows the potential and curiosity that exists out there; the energy and interest of all photographers that can be harnessed. Do you think this energy is best dealt with by centralizing information through only a handful of sources (which may lead to a large pipeline of biased information- a la Fox News), or by disseminating it back into smaller networks again?

NRV: I think we like to position these “online sources” within a vast network that stretches across the globe, where in reality, they are smaller than you might think. For me the Internet is like a monoculture, an environment where a true democratic presentation is always problematic because it is clearly dependent on those with access. We are far too presumptuous in highlighting some unrealistic “international connectivity” particularly when you consider that a large chunk of the world’s art making population is absent from the conversation.

So in reality it’s not the size of the pipeline that is the problem, it is our ability to see the relevancy of information contained within it. This is not to say that the growing enthusiasm to be exposed must be controlled in someway, but we need to constantly reassess the overabundance of these spaces being considered as nothing more than promotional outlets. Is it really necessary to repost a photographer’s work on a number of blogs because of his/her mass email update? What does this accomplish? It all feels a lot like high school and increasingly it is nice to see that authors of these online spaces, specifically blogs, are questioning worthwhile content and trying to be critical. When you scratch the bottom of barrel I think the community needs to first deal with placing and treating the “archive”. How do these individuals want to deal with their history? As I said previously, it’s something hard to predict.

JS: Some of the apprehension or towards these types of photo hubs or internet galleries has been towards their lack of tangibility- they tend to be increasingly virtual communities where one must be seated in front of a monitor to access it. It’s an incredibly valid issue, and I for one, have gotten frustrated with having to spend more time on my computer, instead of looking at prints, handling paper, having face-to-face time etc. Do you see this as an issue, and is it anything you plan to address in the near future?

NRV: First off, both blogs and online publications are often assumed to be transitory, temporary spaces where the content is in danger of its own inability to live up to the legacy of print. While I’m aware that these two forms of media are specific to their presentation and preservation of art, I doubt future generations will have the same contentions we have today with disseminating art through the web. Being that each avenue is so different, we must not forget that the great thing about this virtual environment is that it’s strength is in its ability to bring together ideas, and even varied critical opinion, from areas traditionally masked by either distance or class. It’s hard to come to terms with losing the tangibility of anything but I’m sure that these will remain, at least for some time, two separate issues.  There is no doubt that the Internet can breed laziness and I think It is really up to the individual to decide if he or she wants to experience art primarily through the web or out in the real world.

With all of this being said, I’m not totally sure I want to bring the We Can’t Paint Network into print – into the tangible. I have been considering a number of different approaches to deepening the character of the space but at the moment I don’t want to give anything away.

Noel's personal work

JS: One general feeling I’ve gotten from your We Can’t Paint network, as well as your writing, has been an intense enthusiasm for social experimentation in the art community- finding connections, introducing new work, and getting people to talk.

Above all, you don’t claim to have the answers, but you refuse to sit on your ass and deconstruct. I get the feeling that nothing is right or wrong in your eyes, you’re just off doing your own thing and seeing what comes of it- a pure love and devotion for advancing the arts. As you said, “I’m not sure of the solution, or if we even need one at the moment, but I do know that the last thing we should do is construct utopic ideals with a signed guarantee.” What’s your biggest motivation behind the countless hours spent on We Can’t Paint?

NRV: Without question I want to keep the We Can’t Paint Network free from commercial interests. This is something that motivates me and is relatively plausible by working digitally. I think that because so many of these online spaces (blogs, online magazines, etc) are authored by either artists or art-lovers, people tend to think there is an alternative agenda, one where the only benefactor is the author. For myself this notion is ridiculous and I think you would be hard pressed to find almost any author with an agenda. We all like to see emerging artists have the opportunity to be exposed and I hope that a place like the We Can’t Paint Network, even in some small way, can help those willing to contribute to see that there can be interest in their work, it just takes the right people to see it.

JS: Open mic… Anything at all you’d like to add?

NRV: One problem I’ve found with presenting and submitting one’s work on or through the Internet is that artists can have intense feelings of rejection – rejection which is delivered and can be perceived to be devoid of emotion; and equally, rejection which is absent of a “give and take” explanation. In the past an artist would have to physically visit a gallery, or send in work to magazines and competitions to be considered. Normally they would receive notice of their acceptance or rejection spread over a larger span of time and more importantly, in a face-to-face meeting. It is obviously clear that we live in a different era.

In the course of a day (if one was so willing) an artist could submit his/her work to dozens upon dozens of institutions and publications and, if it was so unfortunately the case, they could relatively instantly receive massive amounts of rejection through email and beyond. Emerging artists (a term which I want to clarify has nothing to do with age) must realize that this is the failure of open calls today, and based predominantly through the web – that projects, galleries, etc, are more than ever very much a product of a specific voice. I’m not sure that I’m the most qualified person to give any worthwhile advice but I would recommend that emerging artists take the time to fail. Submit to those places you have doubts about, you might be surprised at what you can achieve.