A comment to the "Bright Spots" post from a reader named Catherine reminded me of a book I recommended several years ago in an Amazon "Listmania" list I put together one evening when I was bored* called "Readings for Practicing Photographers." The book is Zen in the Art of Archery
by Eugen Herrigel, and what I said about it then was "Make the mental leap from shooting arrows to shooting pictures, and
this becomes virtually an instruction manual for camera handling and
shooting skills."
Okay, now, cut it out—I can hear the scoffing from here. I know some people are going to dismiss out of hand the idea that a book like this could be useful, because the title has the word "zen" in it and they'll assume I'm being a navel-gazing lefty pinko arty-farty type again. Well, okay. But, still.
This idea—applying Herrigel on archery to shooting with a camera—isn't mine. The book was assigned to my third-year class in photo school by Frank Diperna (another one of my many friends and mentors whose websites don't adequately reflect the richness and diversity of their work). I have a DiPerna—an 8x10" platinum print—hanging in my house.
I still find it apropos, lo these many years later. Although it might be one of those books which, if it appeals to you, you don't need. And the people who could really use it, it won't appeal to. To quote another friend and teacher, Paul Kennedy, "You know what they say...'oh well.'"
As far as Catherine's purpose in quoting Shunryu Suzuki—"In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities; in the expert's mind there are few"—is concerned, sympathizers with that view might be interested in reading about the anonymous "Bruces," who are mounting a small guerrilla struggle against the juggernaut of the University takeover of art practice (as opposed to art scholarship, which does belong in Universities). The article, written by Roberta Smith, begins as follows:
I could segue from there to talking about how my bicycle shopping is going (hint—okay, and another hint), but that would be free-associating, and those who appreciate a semblance of order in their blog reading might object. To get back to the subject, I recommend you check out Eugen Herrigel, especially if the idea of doing so does not appeal to you.
*That was before I started The Online Photographer.
Featured Comment by fotorr: "A Minor White favorite."
Featured Comment by Carl Weese: "Marksmanship training western style, without a Zen component, can be a great physical and mental aid to the physical aspects of shooting pictures. Things like squeezing off smooth exposures at slow speeds, or waiting for the perfect moment and then responding suddenly but smoothly, or following action, etc. By the way, Zen archery and western target archery have more in common than you might guess. For one thing, even when competing in tournaments for score, the well-trained marksman concentrates entirely on form, not scoring, while shooting. Really a very close parallel to the mental discipline of Zen archery."
Featured Comment by Vinegar Tom: "Interesting, the way the appropriation of the word "zen" by the Beat Generation has skewed our perception. Herrigel was, quite literally, a Nazi. The skills, mental attitudes and intense self-discipline of an aristocratic Japanese warrior caste may indeed help us hold a camera steady, but there's nothing inherently lefty pinko about them. Quite the reverse."
Featured Comment by Kirk Thompson: "According to Clement Cheroux, in his little book Henri Cartier-Bresson, NY: Abrams, n.d.: 'After the war and his long stay in Asia, during which he discovered Eastern religions, Cartier-Bresson made far less use of the hunting and firearms metaphor in describing his work. He preferred instead to compare it to archery. In the early 1950s, Georges Braque gave him a little book entitled Zen in the Art of Archery (1948), which was to have a major influence on his concept of photography, or at least on his way of describing it.... In this tiny work [by Eugen Herrigel], and particularly in its description of satori, a state of spiritual enlightenment, Cartier-Bresson found a notion of concentration that was astonishingly similar to his own practice: forgetting oneself, and putting all one's senses on alert in order to be able to seize on whatever offered itself.' (P. 108.)"
Featured Comment by Michael W: "The first paragraph of that Roberta Smith article was enough to put me off clicking through to read the full thing. First she refers to MFA grads as 'would-be artists' and that is patently inaccurate. There are many good artists with MFAs & it's unfair for her to insult all of them while trying to attack some. Secondly she re-uses the old feminist quote about fish and bicycle & sort of puts the words into Banett Newman's voice, 'Maybe he'd say' as if she can use a little of his authority to prop up her argument. Barnett Newman didn't say anything about MFA grads & it's dishonest to imply that she'd know what his opinion about it would be. So based on that I think I've saved myself from wasting my time reading any further. There may even be some important points to be made about the academisation of art study, but it doesn't seem that she is the writer who'll be making them."
Featured [partial] Comment by Alex Vesey: "...is [Zen in the Art of Archery] 'wrong' or 'false' as a spiritual guide? I would say 'not necessarily' to that question. One can accept the story's ideas as expressions of faith, and as an inspirational model. It is more like a hagiography (the tale of a saint or religious figure) than a biography (ostensibly a verifiable historical narrative), and should be read and used as such. How does this relate to photography? Zen training requires years of mental discipline to teach the mind to engage the the world and its transient dualities directly, yet without attachment. We are speaking of decades of effort. But anyone, including photographers, can receive inspiration from accounts of such training." [See Alex's entire comment in the Comments section.]
I have a part-time nature & landscape fine art photo business (I am a Respiratory Therapist in a hospital full time) selling my work at Art & Craft Shows. I practiced archery for about 20 years in a "previous life". A critical part of successful archery is "sight picture" awareness. Many times when I am out photographing I recall my archery days and the sight picture. Archery has helped me to have better viewfinder awareness and reflexes to capture the decisive moment. By the way, I have and enjoy reading "Zen and the Art of Archery".
I am especially interested in the aesthetic, psychological and philosophical side of photography as opposed to the technical side. Your site, refreshingly, has a very good balance of both. Mike, thanks for a great blog site, in gratitude, I have started using your site to connect with your advertisers when I purchase equipment.
In case anyone is interested, I use: Canon 40D, Canon lenses- EF-S 2.8 17-55mm & EF-S 10-22mm & 2.8L 70-200mm, PS CS4 (RAW) & Epson Stylus Pro 9900 (no RIP necessary). I use strict image capture discipline, mirror lock, tripod, etc.
I sell up to 40"X60" images on canvas with this setup.
Posted by: Dan Myers | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 11:15 AM
Hi Mike,
About bikes: if you're looking at Pashleys, you should also look at Batavus:
http://usa.batavus.com/
They're not quite as elegant (no sprung Brooks saddles), but they're very practical, and their city bikes use the *much* more widely used 700C tire size, so you'll be able to get the best current tire technology whenever you tires wear out. There are other nice touches, like stainless-steel rims on some models. The one I have (a 7-speed that I bought on a trip to Denmark and had shipped to the US) is a joy for around-town riding.
Posted by: Mitchell Gass | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 11:15 AM
It seems that the idea was forwarded by Henri Cartier-Bresson (in the "Decisive instant"), were he described the photographer as a japanese riding archer, visualizing the target in his mind while his torso was completely still and his body below the waist in continuous movement, following the horse in galop...
Then maybe we should start with the "classical" zen archer :-)
Posted by: ArchiVue | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 11:38 AM
You should be looking at the Flying Pigeon. Millions of Chineese cyclist can't be wrong. Though I have to say I do love the Pashley. Cycling is similar to both photography and archery in that form is everything. Poor form will destroy your knees, image and shot with equal ease. Some archery inspiration.
Posted by: Chad Thompson | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 12:11 PM
'Zen thought' has had a great impact on my photography over the years.
Posted by: JR Cline | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 12:18 PM
Carl Weese said: "Marksmanship training western style, without a Zen component, can be a great physical and mental aid to the physical aspects of shooting pictures."
An interesting comment, with which I completely agree -- but Zen itself is not so much a distinct thing (IMHO) that you can say that Western marksmanship training isn't Zen. A few western things -- marksmanship, archery, certain aspects of different sports, certain pottery-making styles, some levels of gardening, etc., seem to me very much Zen both in training and effect. What's missing in the West is the Zen literature around them, and the intellectual dissection of the Zen state. When a great quarterback or a great wide receiver do their work, there's always a long history of the same kind of highly focused, long-term training that you see in Zen, complemented by a level of concentration that even Zen warriors would approve of. Think about Joe Montana standing back there with three-hundred pound giants crashing down around him, trying to knock his head off, while he's picking out a 10-second hundred-yard dash guy running diagonally down a field, being pursued by other people just as quick, and yet being able to throw a football forty or fifty yards into a three- or four-foot space.
I read some place (maybe here -- I can't remember) that great photographers notice things. Combine that ability to notice, with the level of focus needed for serious marksmanship, and you really have something special.
Posted by: John Camp | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 12:29 PM
In the same vein, I'd suggest Alan Watt's classic "Beat Zen, Square Zen and Zen"
With all the posturing and staking out of positions on photography (as well as thousands of other topics...) on the net these days, it's an invaluable lesson on finding and concentrating on the thing itself as opposed to all that's being said and written about it.
Posted by: Steve G, Mendocino | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 12:41 PM
The practice of Zen Photography has long been a hobby of mine. One empties the mind (fortunately for me, this doesn't take long) and then visualizes a photograph. No camera necessary, because the act of actually taking a photograph would interrupt the visualization and attainment of the image in the mind.
Saves wear and tear on my camera, too.
Posted by: Doug Brewer | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 12:49 PM
John,
You may well have read the comment about "noticing" here, but I got it from David Vestal, the great photo writer now in "very late middle age,"* who once said that photographers are "professional noticers."
Mike
*Classic Vestal. He's 88.
Posted by: Mike Johnston | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 02:14 PM
Mike, The article by Robert Smith, is actually by Roberta Smith.
Zen and the typo.
What, art degrees worthless??
Posted by: Bron Janulis | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 02:20 PM
"Zen and the typo."
Oops. She (not he) must be used to that. But oops.
Thanks for the catch.
Mike
Posted by: Mike Johnston | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 02:24 PM
Trek: No; Pashley: Yes.
Posted by: Guy Batey | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 03:35 PM
Certainly awareness helps you notice things, and awareness is sharpened by practising zen, but neither noticing, keeping cool, nor kyudo is zen.
Zen is the anglicized version of a Japanese word interpreting the pronunciation of the Korean word Seon, via the Chinese word Ch'an, itself a mispronunciation of the Sanskrit word Dhyana, meaning meditation.
Zazen means sitting meditation. You practise zen by sitting.
What you do with your spare time is your business (photography, football, archery) but it is not "zen". Neither is carrying out your business in "zen-like" fashion. What zen means to impart is that you carry out your business, practise it, in its own fashion.
And how do you get to Carnegie Hall?
Posted by: Robert Howell | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 04:18 PM
“An artist without a graduate degree is like a fish without a bicycle.”
I fell down when I read that.
Posted by: Seth Glassman | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 04:22 PM
There is never a safe time to visit TOP. The book was only $13.35 with shipping so impulse buy it is.
Posted by: John Krill | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 06:01 PM
I read it ages ago, before I took up photography; it'll be interesting to read it again.
Posted by: robert e | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 07:02 PM
"Zazen means sitting meditation. You practise Zen by sitting."
Any idiot can sit. There are even idiots who can sit for a long time. Zazen is just one possible way of getting to the peculiar state that is sought by practitioners, but, often that state does not occur because the mind won't release. Football isn't formally Zen, but what happens when Joe Montana completes a long pass under chaotic conditions (which is something that goes way past mechanics) may represent the peculiar state sought by Zen practitioners. The same is true of archery and photography. In the West, the state is sometimes referred to as "flow." I believe they are identical states, without the Eastern literature to accompany the Western concept.
Posted by: John Camp | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 07:54 PM
Despite the title and the wide distribution of Eugen Herrigel's book "Zen in the Art of Archery", the fact is that Aza Kenzo, Herrigel's archery teacher actually had no experience in Zen nor did he unconditionally approve of it.
What is clear is that Herrigel couldn't speak Japanese and that he misinterpreted much of what was said by his idiosyncratic teacher who was trying to make archery into a new religion called Daishadokyo, which Herrigel mistook as being Zen.
I would recommend reading the excellent academic paper "The Myth of Zen in the Art of Archery" by Yamada Shoji which appeared in the Japanese Journal of Religious Studies and is available online as a free PDF download:
http://tinyurl.com/2jevm
Posted by: Ron Beaubien | Friday, 18 September 2009 at 07:55 PM
I beg your pardons, but while the original idea of Zen was from India, each country added their own interpretations. In China, it's infused with the native Taoist practices. In Japan, it's infused with their national characters. The point is, the path to personal attainment is an evolving process. The Zen in America is different from the Zen in Japan, and different from Ch'an in China and so on.
If Kyudo is practiced for spiritual reasons only after WWWII, then so be it. Spiritual Buddhism is about being pragmatic, the Now of Now. The dust does not collect on the mirror as there is no dust.
Be well. We now return you to the regular TOP programming.
Posted by: Richard Man | Saturday, 19 September 2009 at 12:18 AM
Despite its small size, Herrigel's text has exerted tremendous influence on western perceptions of Japan, and "Asian" spirituality. I confess it affected me as well: I read it in 1981 while a freshman, subsequently practiced kyûdô for two years, and trained as a monk in a Japanese Zen school monastery for another five.
In _The Hero with a Thousand Faces_, Joseph Campbell offers a cross-cultural comparative study of spiritual treks as described in religious lore and myth. Herrigel's story fits into this pattern. He is a seeker who drives himself along a dark path in search of peace. He must walk it alone, but his archery teacher Awa Kenzo, pushes, pulls and guides him on the quest.
It is moving as a story, but is it "true" as a biographical account? According to the most recent research by Yamada Shoji, there are many holes in the narrative, and Herrigel's tale changes rather dramatically over time. Even Awa's other (i.e. Japanese) students did not recognize the sayings and teaching methods that Herrigel attributed to Awa Kenzo. And, as another commentator notes above, Herrigel had an "iffy" relationship with the Nazi administration--hardly the actions of a dedicated Buddhist.
Yamada's research is now in English:
http://www.amazon.com/Shots-Dark-Japan-Buddhism-Modernity/dp/0226947645/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1253323578&sr=8-1
That being said, is the book "wrong" or "false" as a spiritual guide?
I would say "not necessarily" to that question. One can accept the story's ideas as expressions of faith, and as an inspirational model. It is more like a hagiography (the tale of a saint or religious figure) than a biography (ostensibly a verifiable historical narrative), and should be read and used as such.
How does this relate to photography? Zen training requires years of mental discipline to teach the mind to engage the the world and its transient dualities directly, yet without attachment. We are speaking of decades of effort.
But anyone, including photographers, can receive inspiration from accounts of such training. For example, Zen koan (religious training questions) and other stories of past monks often express the religious experience through sensory perceptions. Here is the key. The statements that include "see," "hear," "smell," "taste," and "touch"--these are all references the experience of "becoming one" with existence. For some photographers, the act of shooting can include such a moment of mental engagement. Either David Ward or Joe Cornish expressed this in their book _The Landscape Within_: when shooting, the author became so involved with view and the process that everything else fell away. Of course, that kind of experience itself is transient, and perhaps more like the "zone" as described by some athletes. Nonetheless, that level of interaction between the photographer and the process/subject can make the overall experience more meaningful, and enhance one's photographic vision.
(Please note that I am not saying Ward and Cornish read Asian religious texts--I am drawing a parallel between their book and texts like Herrigel's to show that one might read Herrigel as inspiration for a similarly dedicated approach to photography. )
Alex
Posted by: Alex Vesey | Saturday, 19 September 2009 at 02:21 AM
mike, if you haven't found them yet, ANT bikes would seem to fit you pretty well. check them here: http://www.antbikemike.com/bikes.html
Posted by: Jason Stumpf | Saturday, 19 September 2009 at 06:34 AM
Another myth the archery zen and HCB the only NO myth is work 98% inspiration 2% nothing more NO leica etc etc.
Posted by: hugo solo | Saturday, 19 September 2009 at 08:47 AM
Ha! I know hunter who uses photography as analogy to teach others how to shoot game using a firearm.
Posted by: beuler | Saturday, 19 September 2009 at 08:57 AM
Mike,
Here's a very short story by the composer John Cage, written sometime in the 1950s:
“Four years ago or maybe five, I was talking with Hidekazu Yoshida. We were on the train from Donaueschingen to Cologne. I mentioned the book by Herrigel called 'Zen in the Art of Archery.' The melodramatic climax of this book concerns an archer’s hitting the bull’s eye though he did so in total darkness.
“Yoshida told me there was one thing the author failed to point out, that is, there lives in Japan at the present time a highly esteemed archer who has never yet been able to hit the bull’s eye even in broad daylight.”
Posted by: Robin Dreyer | Saturday, 19 September 2009 at 10:17 AM
Having actually studied Kyudo I can indeed see the parallels. Bravo to your instructor for including this in his curricula!
Posted by: Lili | Saturday, 19 September 2009 at 12:10 PM
Mike,
You probably want a steel bike. The smoothness in the ride quality doesn't really show itself in a test ride around the block, it takes much longer living with the thing to figure it out.
Good luck with the bike purchase. Whatever you get, I'm sure you'll love it this time.
Posted by: James Liu | Saturday, 19 September 2009 at 02:55 PM
Thanks for your editorial skills Mike. You're the best. And the only.
Posted by: Robert Howell | Saturday, 19 September 2009 at 09:30 PM
Controversial little book! I would not have thought so. I read it as required reading while a photo student at Ohio University, in about 1972. It continues to influence me to this day. I still have my copy. I'll have to reread it.
A new book (2005) which perhaps could be considered a companion book is Blink, by Malcolm Gladwell. I haven't finished it yet but so far it is a secular western look at the near instantaneous perceptive power of the subconscious. It is full of examples from all walks of western life.
Posted by: Mark Muse | Sunday, 20 September 2009 at 01:27 PM
Google recumbent bicycle.
Posted by: Tuppy Glossup | Sunday, 20 September 2009 at 02:26 PM
The big difference between this and all the modern uses of the Zen idea is that this is the original meaning. Archery and sword fighting were two practical zen applications. Practice till your fingers bleed. Practice till everything becomes automatic. Practice till there's no consciousness invested in technique.
It has everything to do with photography. We could say it has to do with Leicas, since the topic seems to be so hot these days. If you love the tool, and you consecrate yourself to learn to use it, you'll get amazing results. Related to the fixies post too, no zen bowman would use a compound bow. In essence, it's about learning to squeeze every drop of effectiveness out of a simple tool.
Posted by: Max | Sunday, 20 September 2009 at 07:15 PM
I studied eastern philosophies before discovering photography, and what is described in this book is exactly what attracted me to photography. Now I am a poor excuse for a Buddhist, a lousy photographer, and an avid collector of expensive photography gear.
Posted by: Dillan | Monday, 21 September 2009 at 03:00 PM