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Terry Wier

Terry Wier I have been a professional photographer for over fifty years. Twenty years in NYC and Europe as a fashion photographer, then twenty years plus as an architectural photographer working in China, The Middle East, Europe as well as in the USA. I have taught photography on a college level in-between all the travel. I started showing my fine art work in one man shows in LA and NYC in 1985.

tlwier.photodeck.com

I was born in a desert region of the USA called the Permian Basin. Mostly desert, sand dunes and lots of oil wells. Most people thought of it as a place you had to be to make money, not a place to be because you wanted to be there.

I always felt at peace about the open spaces. First where I grew up, then others like it in New Mexico, Arizona and Utah. Even as I travelled for work and moved to NYC, I always felt a pullback to the open spaces.

Never thought about it much as my business grew and travel took a strong hold on my life. Always somewhere new to go and a new project to complete lifestyle pushed the things I loved to the back of my mind and off of the calendar.

Yet even when I traveled I seemed to find places that were open and felt the urge to explore and photograph them. First the sand dunes of Death Valley, California, then the mysterious slot canyons of Arizona. The images just piled up in my darkroom over the years.

Then, when the time in NYC was over, and we moved back to Texas, I was once again pulled to the open spaces.

First, I realized that the only time I wanted to be out was the first light of morning or the last light of evening. I would hike out five to ten miles before sunrise then turn around and photograph all the way back to the truck.

Next, I started working mainly in the deepest winter for many reasons. First, the light was low, crisp and clear all day long. Second, there were no snakes, bugs or people around. Now, I work mainly in the second half of January and the first half of February. With the high temperature around freezing and the night well below, I had open spaces to myself.

I began to organize my images and thoughts about the process as I began to teach creative expression in photography now and then. This is what I came up with as a framework for my workflow.

1. Light
   1. Angle of light
   2. Quality of light
   3. Intensity of light
2. Shape and form
   1. Does the form (rock formation/landscape) have the weight to hold the image?
   2. Does the sky frame the image to keep it from floating?
   3. Is the form simple or complex?
   4. Does the form fit a rectangle or a square format?
   5. Does the form drawn me in or just interest me?
3. The Image
   1. Once processed does the image keep calling me back to look at it?
   2. Can I live with it on my wall for years without getting tired of seeing it?
   3. How do people who see it react?
      1. Confused
      2. Bored
      3. Drawn in

I have one of my images printed very large in my office. When friends or family come to see us, I always take note of how they respond to it. For my family, who have seen it for years, some don’t even look at it, while others always pause and stare for a moment. I have one grandson who said, “ I don’t get it, it’s just a picture. Why do people pay so much for it?” He does not realize it, but he is drawn to it without understanding it at all.

The image is the “Alien”, a rock formation with an alien hiding within. The last exhibit there were several people looking at it for a long while. Finally one of the woman shouted, “I see him, he is looking at me.” She then bought the print. For a brief span of time, she could understand the language of my passion.

Another grandson wanted to go with me on a trip to the open spaces to see it for himself. The impact changed his view of many things. He is now carrying a camera and working on his own language.

So, the lesson learned for me is this: you will never reach everyone, move everyone or impress many. That is not the point of the urge to go and photograph. I do not expect people to understand my work, and I just hope to move them to respond from the heart.

Photography is a language by which we express the part of us that words cannot define. It is our language. It cannot be twisted like words, it is far more black or white in terms of response. It is not a business, even if we make money selling prints that is not the point. It is the language of our heart, shouting in a hurricane wind of words what those words cannot express.

We go and photograph because we must, not because we want to. It is the beautiful mystery of the expression of art.