This beauty is pretty rough
Among the many people who have been asked (and I haven’t been) for their comments on photographer Dave Anderson’s book "Rough Beauty," a photographic depiction of the town of Vidor, I think I might be among the most qualified to share an opinion.
I live in Vidor, and have for more than 25 years. I think the fact that I am not a native, but an outsider who has found a home in a warm and gracious community, gives me a great perspective. I recognize things that are unique about Vidor because I came here as an adult having lived elsewhere and having been exposed to many different circumstances.
The fact that I am at least moderately acquainted with the work of Keith Carter, the Beaumont photographer who was among author Dave Anderson’s teachers adds to my qualifications. I certainly see strong threads of Carter’s influence in the book – not the least of which is the choice of black and white photography.
But my objections to the book, and I do have some, are based on my background as a journalist. Though Anderson’s work, which is a commercial enterprise, makes no real promise of credibility or reality, it certainly is implied in his presentation and his interviews. In doing that, he does a great disservice to those of us who are journalists and those of us who live in Vidor.
I, unlike some who have been asked to comment after a brief glimpse of the contents – have looked at and READ the book. My biggest objection comes in the smallest word – most. Page 8 of the book, in the portion written by Ann Wilkes Tucker, refers to Anderson’s documentation of the “hard scrabble lives of most of the residents of Vidor, Texas.” That is far from true.
I also am offended as a journalist by another word, “predominantly.” The book notes, on the title page, that the photographs were made predominantly in Vidor. Yet nowhere in the book does it tell which ones were and were not made in Vidor, nor where else some of the photos might have been taken. I find that a huge error of omission.
The book uses random quotes throughout and they are artistically placed and worthy of pondering, but they are not attributed, nor, as the book’s title page says, are they, “necessarily from the same people as are featured in the photographs adjacent to the quotes.” Try that in a newspaper and it will get you sued.
So, is it a good book? Artistically, yes. I even would go so far as to say that it could represent much of the rural south and would serve as a meaningful representation of how many poor people might live, either by choice or circumstance.
Does it reflect the reality of Vidor? Not even close.
I live in Vidor, and have for more than 25 years. I think the fact that I am not a native, but an outsider who has found a home in a warm and gracious community, gives me a great perspective. I recognize things that are unique about Vidor because I came here as an adult having lived elsewhere and having been exposed to many different circumstances.
The fact that I am at least moderately acquainted with the work of Keith Carter, the Beaumont photographer who was among author Dave Anderson’s teachers adds to my qualifications. I certainly see strong threads of Carter’s influence in the book – not the least of which is the choice of black and white photography.
But my objections to the book, and I do have some, are based on my background as a journalist. Though Anderson’s work, which is a commercial enterprise, makes no real promise of credibility or reality, it certainly is implied in his presentation and his interviews. In doing that, he does a great disservice to those of us who are journalists and those of us who live in Vidor.
I, unlike some who have been asked to comment after a brief glimpse of the contents – have looked at and READ the book. My biggest objection comes in the smallest word – most. Page 8 of the book, in the portion written by Ann Wilkes Tucker, refers to Anderson’s documentation of the “hard scrabble lives of most of the residents of Vidor, Texas.” That is far from true.
I also am offended as a journalist by another word, “predominantly.” The book notes, on the title page, that the photographs were made predominantly in Vidor. Yet nowhere in the book does it tell which ones were and were not made in Vidor, nor where else some of the photos might have been taken. I find that a huge error of omission.
The book uses random quotes throughout and they are artistically placed and worthy of pondering, but they are not attributed, nor, as the book’s title page says, are they, “necessarily from the same people as are featured in the photographs adjacent to the quotes.” Try that in a newspaper and it will get you sued.
So, is it a good book? Artistically, yes. I even would go so far as to say that it could represent much of the rural south and would serve as a meaningful representation of how many poor people might live, either by choice or circumstance.
Does it reflect the reality of Vidor? Not even close.
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