Scan barcode
sariggs's review
2.0
When this book came out, I was interested in part because I remember looking at Mann's "Intimate Portraits" in the '90s and thinking how embarrassed I'd be if I was those naked kids in the photographs. At the time, I wasn't at all comfortable with bodies in general, and I projected that discomfort onto them. I was five star impressed with the chapter of this book in which she provided context for her artistic process in "Intimate Portraits". I am an older, more body-positive person now, but I think that chapter would have alleviated teen-me's discomfort for her kids completely. That chapter was really interesting, and I learned a lot.
As for the rest of the book, well, I dragged myself through it under protest. The first 99 pages were a slog, and then it picked up. I liked the bits about her southern road trip, and her grandmother's open marriage was interesting. If you can hold on until the very end, the bit on the Body Farm is compelling.
I really think it's just not well edited, or not edited for the general reader's enjoyment. It's a memoir. There's no plot, no compelling storyline. It's half a photography book and half a family history, and they let her keep everything, not just the interesting parts.
I did love this bit though.
"Exploitation lies at the root of every great portrait, and all of us know it. Even the simplest picture of another person is ethically complex, and the ambitious photographer, no matter how sincere, is compromised right from the git-go."
As for the rest of the book, well, I dragged myself through it under protest. The first 99 pages were a slog, and then it picked up. I liked the bits about her southern road trip, and her grandmother's open marriage was interesting. If you can hold on until the very end, the bit on the Body Farm is compelling.
I really think it's just not well edited, or not edited for the general reader's enjoyment. It's a memoir. There's no plot, no compelling storyline. It's half a photography book and half a family history, and they let her keep everything, not just the interesting parts.
I did love this bit though.
"Exploitation lies at the root of every great portrait, and all of us know it. Even the simplest picture of another person is ethically complex, and the ambitious photographer, no matter how sincere, is compromised right from the git-go."
bernrr's review
4.0
The writing is great. To the point that it seems a little unfair that Sally Mann can be so talented in two very different media. (But she let's slip somewhere in the text that she has an MFA in Creative Writing, so you know she put the work in.)
She addresses, early and head-on, the controversies around her body of work "Immediate Family," and I was impressed with her courage, if not convinced by her reasoning. As process, you often see the photographs as singular moments, candid, her children caught in the act of being children. Actually, she details the making of one in particular, that she shot over again in a long succession of days until it looked just right. The images in the series are powerful and well-crafted works of art, but my lingering question is more about informed consent--can you have informed consent if the photographer is your mother? Do you have the imagination and experience to imagine yourself 10 years older, knowing these photographs are in the public sphere?
To Mann's credit, she is unflinching in reporting the angles, but believes she had informed consent, and backs this belief with compelling arguments (that I won't detail). She also believes children to be wiser and more devious and more complex than adults usually want to acknowledge--and searching my own memory this is true.
If this were all to the book, it would be interesting, but she goes deep into family history to examine her roots, and the energy is unflagging most of the way, illustrated by photos, both her own and from her archives. It gives the reader both the mind of the artist, and the validation of my own memories that kept bubbling up and competing for brain-space. Plus some good storytelling.
She addresses, early and head-on, the controversies around her body of work "Immediate Family," and I was impressed with her courage, if not convinced by her reasoning. As process, you often see the photographs as singular moments, candid, her children caught in the act of being children. Actually, she details the making of one in particular, that she shot over again in a long succession of days until it looked just right. The images in the series are powerful and well-crafted works of art, but my lingering question is more about informed consent--can you have informed consent if the photographer is your mother? Do you have the imagination and experience to imagine yourself 10 years older, knowing these photographs are in the public sphere?
To Mann's credit, she is unflinching in reporting the angles, but believes she had informed consent, and backs this belief with compelling arguments (that I won't detail). She also believes children to be wiser and more devious and more complex than adults usually want to acknowledge--and searching my own memory this is true.
If this were all to the book, it would be interesting, but she goes deep into family history to examine her roots, and the energy is unflagging most of the way, illustrated by photos, both her own and from her archives. It gives the reader both the mind of the artist, and the validation of my own memories that kept bubbling up and competing for brain-space. Plus some good storytelling.
jwetterau's review
5.0
I was pleasantly surprised by how much I ended up enjoying this autobiography of sorts by Sally Mann. I was ignorant of who she was prior to reading (this was my book club's choice), and feel a bit bad that I hadn't studied her before. She has a fascinating history and perspective of her family, and her controversial photography. She did an excellent job of taking the reader through her background to how she began photographing her family in their everyday lives, and why she felt the controversy leveled against her was slightly presumptuous without understanding context.
Her photographs resonated with me, because they remind me so much of how my own mother photographed me at a young age - bath tub time, running around the yard in the sprinkler, jumping into the creek behind my grandmother's home. I think people got so caught up in the style of the photos - they missed her message which was: I raised my children on my family's farm, and wanted them to be seen exactly as they were in that moment. I particularly enjoyed the parts of the book where she introduced us to her ancestors, as if they were her old friends, and found it poignant the way she described her family's history with slavery, and how her perspective has been shaped from that.
I'll admit - at first the book reads a bit pretentious, however you grow to realize that while she did somewhat come from a privileged background, she was not only aware of it but owned it. I appreciated that she didn't try to pretend that she wasn't given opportunities not available to most.
Her photographs resonated with me, because they remind me so much of how my own mother photographed me at a young age - bath tub time, running around the yard in the sprinkler, jumping into the creek behind my grandmother's home. I think people got so caught up in the style of the photos - they missed her message which was: I raised my children on my family's farm, and wanted them to be seen exactly as they were in that moment. I particularly enjoyed the parts of the book where she introduced us to her ancestors, as if they were her old friends, and found it poignant the way she described her family's history with slavery, and how her perspective has been shaped from that.
I'll admit - at first the book reads a bit pretentious, however you grow to realize that while she did somewhat come from a privileged background, she was not only aware of it but owned it. I appreciated that she didn't try to pretend that she wasn't given opportunities not available to most.
sdbecque's review
4.0
Honestly, I didn't really know anything about Sally Mann when I picked this off the Library New shelf, but I remembered [a:Ann Patchett|7136914|Ann Patchett|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1371838720p2/7136914.jpg] had said good things about it on her bookstore blog, and that was good enough for me to check it out of the library and give it a try. Here's what Patchett had to say specifically: "In Hold Still, Sally Mann demonstrates a talent for storytelling that rivals her talent for photography. The book is riveting, ravishing — diving deep into family history to find the origins of art. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.”
It's really good. It's about family, and art, and the South and I just couldn't put it down. I found the section on the family photographs she had taken, ones that caused some controversy in the 90s because her children were naked in a lot of them, seems almost quaint in a way compared to the stuff and images I see popular mommy blogs posting about their kids. Mann talks here a lot about the ways in which you can not force children to give you the images her children gave her - in a compelling section she shows the evolution of a photograph she was attempting to create of her son in a river, by showing us the shots that didn't work, and then finally the one that did. The photos she takes are so different than the ones that are popular now, the sort of white, bright super saturated instagam aesthetic, it's almost refreshing to see all that darkness and all that shadow. She also discusses how her children knew when she was behind the camera and they were in front of it that they were acting - a line that I don't think exists in the same way of some of the blogs I follow.
She also talks a lot about memory and photography, which was interesting to hear coming from a photographer, illustrating I think the difference between an idea of 'art photography' and the constant capturing of our lives that's happening with our phones.
jajwalya's review
5.0
I first listened to Sally Mann narrating her book Hold Still simultaneously perusing the photographs in the book. Some may prefer to read and look a hard copy, but I liked listening to Sally Mann’s voice telling her story to me. The vibes were like those I found from [a:Patti Smith|196092|Patti Smith|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1564508308p2/196092.jpg]’s [b:Just Kids|341879|Just Kids|Patti Smith|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1259762407l/341879._SY75_.jpg|332242], but more authentic, if not personal? Artistic memoirs of a time and place more fictional to me than the United States as shown with its media itself. I didn’t listen to Patti Smith with the kind of context required for these kinds of books I suppose. For here in Hold Still, the setting is a place I can tangibly grasp. If not for COVID-19, I might even have tried to travel around from my spot in Virginia over to Rockbridge County. Visit what has been romanticized from Mann’s words to my memories of the place; its sunsets, the idyllic pretty brick houses giving way to quintessential Southern houses surrounded by larger swaths of land which I now understand to be farming grounds.
...
Here are some of my favorites. One of the most captivating pieces in the book was a heavily annotated letter from Dr. Mungner to Sally Mann. The content of the letter is shorter than all its footnotes.
I practice the slow looking details for observing and contemplating the photographs. What captures your attention first? Where do your eyes rest? What do you notice?
From:
https://jajwalyark.wordpress.com/2020/08/12/hold-still-sally-mann-review/
...
Here are some of my favorites. One of the most captivating pieces in the book was a heavily annotated letter from Dr. Mungner to Sally Mann. The content of the letter is shorter than all its footnotes.
I practice the slow looking details for observing and contemplating the photographs. What captures your attention first? Where do your eyes rest? What do you notice?
From:
https://jajwalyark.wordpress.com/2020/08/12/hold-still-sally-mann-review/
lesbrarycard's review
5.0
So haunting and beautiful; nothing has ever reassured me more of my love for art, nature, and Virginia.