Well, the all-his-taste-is-in-his-mouth guy thinks you'd have to really work to screw up this scene. On sober reflection (I am sober and there is a reflection ) I prefer the first. For me, the symmetry works just fine with that mirror image. The muted colors are wonderful. It's almost a selective color, mostly monochrome with that startling splash of yellow. On the other hand, if I had only seen #2, or for that matter #3 (which I would probably have wanted cropped from bottom to make it like #1) I'd have liked them fine.

I do have this one, of my wife ca. 1972. I was still in school on the GI Bill, and I seem to recall making this in our living room using my 4x5" Pacemaker Speed Graphic against a white roll of paper hung from a bookcase. Film was probably Plus-X Pan. It was likely a high-key portrait exercise for class. The negative is long lost but I found this 8x10 print, scanned it and cleaned it up some (there is still a lot of dust in the hair, a bugaboo of scanning prints). This is how we were being trained to do portraits in 1972 and I spent most of my career doing pretty much this, but I was able to eke out a living until I wasn't.

Paramount (butterfly) lighting, probably a single spun-aluminum reflector with a 500w studio flood. Probably had a second light on the backdrop to keep it white. It was supposed to be an example of high-key. I also hand-retouched the negative.

(Download)

Late to the party again as usual. The thing has gone 6 (no, 7!) pages already with some fabulous stuff. Some people think that because I shot portraits for a living I must know what I'm talking about, but the portraits I shot were almost entirely totally staged, in studio, with total control (which don't mean a thing if you ain't got that...). Thus my portraits were, bluntly, stodgy and predictable. So does that mean that I judge other people's portraits if they are not stodgy and predictable? Not on yer tintype! Portraits for me are a know-it-when-I-see-it proposition. I tend to be reeeeeaaaalllly unconventional with what I "judge" (and I hate to judge) to be a "portrait." What are my criteria? Heck, I don't know. EYES, I guess. Mostly. Eyes in a portrait are the windows to the soul, but I can see a portrait with no eyes and it's still a portrait (think Karsh's unforgettable portrait of Pablo Casals from the back).

So, late as I am, I'm just scrolling through the whole post so far and jotting notes. Here y'go:

Min, OP, went first with the Little Ninja. All other considerations aside, whether it needs cleaning up or whatever, I consider it to be a fabulous portrait! That one baleful blue eye fixed straight on me... the kid is a powerful ninja! Really! And I love that his shirt matches the color of his ninja thingy. 5 out of 5.

Frank 2013's single, wire sharp eye is, to me, also a portrait. It's true I cannot see the rest of the face, but I want to because that single eye stops me cold and makes me want to see more. The quality is superb, detail absolutely everywhere and long scale. Maybe because I cannot see the whole face I give it 4 out of 5.

Linda from Maine has a terrific new avatar (technically not an avatar as it is her really truly lovely self) and collaborated with Bob Yankle to produce a really truly portrait of Trixie. I love what they did, tremendous skill needed and so well done I would not know it was "'shopped" if I did not know, but I can only give it 3 out of 5 because of what I perceive as a lack of life in the eye. It could use a catchlight.

Thee Gambler's pooch is a portrait. If I had made it I think I'd desaturate the blue collar and tag to make them less distracting. The bright blue tends to attract my eye. She gets a 4 out of 5 because Pooch is not looking directly at the camera (yeah he's a picky SOB).

Dixigirl's pooch Bonnie gets a 5/5 from me because it made me laugh out loud. I don't even know what rules it breaks and don't care if it does or not, it's a swell portrait of a playful pal.

Treepusher got the eyes! 5/5

Cap'n Cliff gets three 5/5's. Cliff needs no advice from me! He does what I should'a done when I was in the racket. If I'd had his skill and talent I might still be at it, but...

Andrea presents two, the first absolutely a portrait and solidly well done. All attention is on GET THE EYES, the pose is good, posture is good (something I tend to look for is good posture), eyes are bright, background well blurred, color is good... 4/5
The other, as CaptC points out, is basically a very charming snapshot. The dynamics and expressions are just adorable--captivating-- two BFF's on the soccer pitch (I bet). Indeed the faces should be brighter and the background is a distraction mainly owing to it's being white. It will likely never be a portrait-portrait, but much can be fixed in post to turn it into not-a-portrait-but-more-than-a-snapshot. 3/5

Linda's portrait is a collaboration. Treepusher made it and Linda finished it. I suspect Linda likes it well enough 'cuz she's using it. I think it's a fabulous portrait-portrait, even though I see things that are unusual, starting with the low angle (I was taught to shoot from eye level or slightly above), but there is not a thing wrong with unusual, and it's a terrific portrait, well finished. 5/5

Alissa, I personally award 5/5 for the whole set and there y'are. This lad has kind eyes. Some might carp on the busy shirt, but I won't. Sure, a solid blue might be better, but put it this way: my eye goes first to those gentle eyes. The one thing I might carp on is the (is that a) fence in the background. It is so soft I can't tell what it is so I wonder, plus it has some bright stuff that may lead the eye out of frame to the right. If I had made it I think I would probably brush down those slightly brighter spots on the post and rail. Nevertheless, 5/5

RLaugh, I award an overall 4/5 for all three. To me Milo looks a little overprocessed, but that's me, and I tend to blow either way depending. The one thing that maybe bothers me is the green erosion fence (?) behind him, but I know from long personal experience that ya can't always control the background. I think the only reason I'm a little bugged by it is that I think I shouldn't have noticed it. Your 3rd shot, the profile portrait, I personally give 5/5 for unusually terrific, very strong, well lit including a faint rimlight on the back of his head to separate him from the background. AND ya can't see his eye so there y'go.

Minnie returns to present two "street" portraits. We've seen numerous discussions, some a little heated, on what constitutes "street," "portrait," "street portrait," and the fluctuating cost of tea in China. My opinion, worth exactly what you pay for it, is that these are street (or at least fair) portraits and so there. And they each get 5/5.

Anvil also presents two candids that may or may not be portraits by definition (I tend to separate portrait-portraits from something identified as street from something else identified as Candid, and in my heyday I shot bazillions of candids--still do. So what is a candid? I-know-it-when-I-see-it. These are candid portraits, both gorgeous, and 5/5

Linda returns with a stunning portrait of Trixie with her red blankie and deeply soulful eyes. Don't care about not no processing "errors" (can't see 'em anyway): 5/5

Dave Chinn presents two versions of a street portrait, either and each deserving of a 5/5. I like them both equally for different reasons since they are waaaaay different from each other, but both are solid and compelling.

Neil has made what I consider to be a near-perfect candid portrait with a grab shot with a camera on a tabletop on the crowded patio of a busy restaurant. Later he shows us a more finished version (very nice), along with the unbelievably cluttered original, showing how he extracted a diamond from the considerable rough. I like the first version fine, warts and all. 5/5

R G shows us a grab candid made with a cheap compact which flash fired and lit up the reflective striping on a man's safety jacket. I suppose it's arguable that it's a dreadful picture, but like virtually all discernible pictures it captures a tiny slice of time, a memory of a pleasant looking man at work. Quality, 2/5. Value, priceless.

Andrea returns with a portrait of her daughter in her bright, sparkly going-to-a-dance outfit (social dancing? or recital). Technically lots'a flaws, but do the flaws ruin it? NO! To me, one of the most important things about a portrait is whether it seems to capture the essence of the person; this captures Sydney's sparkly essence! The light is uneven and Andrea has a problem with the background (I don't know if you can work in layers but I'd try lifting her off the background and either replacing it or applying Gaussian blur to it). Quality, 3/5. Vibrance and expression, 5/5

Anvil submits a fabulous portrait of a bull elk. My eye goes to and stays on the magnificent animal. All the background is just background (and foreground), soft and just--there, not intrusive in any way. 5/5

Linda counterpunches with a bighorn sheep calmly munching on grass. The shot almost has motion (I can see the jaw working and the grass jumping). Beautifully lit, focus on the eyes (GET THE EYES), no distractions, 5/5

TheeGambler presents the one picture so far that, I'm afraid, fails to enthuse me. I see where you were going with it (you explained it very well), but try as I might I can't classify it as a portrait. I cannot see the faces of either rider or horse. My "classification 'system'" is pretty loose, so it may qualify as a candid, but honestly, had you presented this single picture as a thread I'd most likely have bypassed it without comment. 3/5

So now it's 7 pages and I will shut up now!

Extraordinary picture! Very skilfully done! So skillfully that, had you now said so, I would not have known.

I really like that first one. Clean, strong, simple, three colors, unusual angle. Very compelling!

I don't see a brain so much as I see a monkey fist knot. I don't know if they are still used for their original purpose, which was as a weight on a light heaving line that was attached to a heavier hawser, to make fast a vessel to a pier. A deckhand would heave the monkey fist to a fellow on the pier, who would use the light line to haul over the hawser and drop it over a bollard, pile, or cleat. I used to watch the ferries coming in to Block Island and I especially loved seeing that first heaving line rocket over. When you're 11 years old some stuff just resonates.

It ain't broke, don't fix it. I think it's breathtaking (and I love a sunrise). I may have said it before (yeah he's said it before), but there ain't no light like back light. This picture is a sum of parts, and one of the best parts is the rim light and translucence of the whatever-they-are thingies glowing richly in the foreground. I am thrilled that they are wire sharp as well, with the light delineating the dewdrops weighing them down. Across the pond, rising out of the flawless reflection is that misty-morning mist. That's where I would want to be in my canoe, but I'm not sure that a canoe wouldn't ruin the moment (it would certainly disrupt the reflection). No, I like it just as it is, serene, calm, and contemplative, with the promise of a gorgeous day!

Steve, in his introduction to FYC when it started, wrote, "Think of 'For Your Consideration' as a small gallery coffee shop where you can sit down and talk about anything art. A place of honesty and respect, where the more you give, the more you'll receive, and in the process help others." I think that's pretty much the essence of the place (except I'm less than impressed with the quality of the coffee). I've said that I finally woke up and realized that I don't give critique. All I am qualified to do is comment, give a personal opinion or make a suggestion. I do have experience, but just because I know how to shoot a picture and process it does not necessarily make me an expert on photography, much less art. I knows what I likes, and I don't imagine I'd much like being shredded by a professional critic, nor do I think it necessary. We can just keep on keepin' on, not throwing sand or punches, offering one another reasonable opinions and suggestions which we are all free to accept or not.

Thanks, Anvil! Jeepers! I have to think this is a very, very common problem because it's driven me nuts for like ever. Specifically the there's-never-a-good-safe-spot-to-pull-off conundrum, and if there is, there's no picture. I've lost count of the number of times we've been driving through an amazing area with no shoulders and no pullouts, cursing the road engineers, until there is a pullout that's down in the weeds someplace with a hill on either side and zero view. It's like the SOB's literally plan it that way, and you can hear the echo of their laughter!

I agree with so much of what Minnie suggests, but I also have the same challenges that Linda has: I can't physically do a lot of that any more. I also agree with Steve's suggestion: think (shoot) small. There's almost always something interesting in closeup. There is also the Miracle of Digital, which is take it anyway, you can always delete it later (which I incidentally never do until I get home and upload it and look at it; sometimes there is more there than initially met the eye).

To the question, I don't think your picture is that boring, but I also don't think the pole is the focal point; I think the gully is. Therefore I don't think the removal (or cropping out) of the pole would hurt, and might help. A little. Some.

(Edit: I often, too often say, Ya takes yer pitcher wiv the light ya gots. When we traveled we seemed always on the run, often arriving at the spectacular scene at the wrong time of day, or in fog, or rain, occasionally snow, but I'm there, I have my camera, and someplace else I need to be like having a reservation, so I gotta shoot it as best I can. You can't always pick the time or hang around for the light or the weather, so, Ya takes yer pitcher wiv the light ya gots. )

Billy pointed out that the word, "...mundane: [means] lacking interest and dull...another word for boring after all." Billy, I don't disagree. We pass stuff by all the time, looking past it or through it, not seeing it. It's there, but it isn't, the very essence of boring, but it won't be there forever. We are often reminded that one of the major criteria for "art" is whether something evokes emotion. If it does not for one person it may for another. For me, just me, Wyeth's painting evokes pretty strong emotion; sadness, melancholy, longing, loss. It's such a simple picture, really, just part of a window with some blowing curtains. Mundane, dull, boring. But Wyeth noticed it and it evoked something in him (I think I read that that window looked out on his family graveyard). We all see stuff every day without seeing it. Maybe it's the bus shelter, or the bus, or a storefront, everyday things we take so totally for granted that we dismiss and ignore them, but personally I love it when I see a picture of something that I remember but is gone now. We see the past through the eyes of its artists. The cave painters of 40,000 years ago may have had different reasons for depicting their own times, but depict them they did and created invaluable historical treasures, yet their subjects are utterly mundane; mostly guys out hunting. But most of the animals they hunted are now extinct, a priceless boon to paleontologists. The Egyptians of 5,000 years ago depicted their culture in rich tomb paintings that tell us what they farmed, what they hunted, how they dressed, how they entertained themselves, all pretty much mundane stuff that we would never know if they hadn't felt it was important to show it, even though it was never intended to be seen by anyone but the dead.

Elliott Erwitt said, “Photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place… I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.” The stuff I do is seriously mundane, but the reason I make a picture is because I thought I saw something interesting, and I wanted a memory. “Photography to me is catching a moment which is passing, and which is true.”—Jacques-Henri Lartigue. If you glance at my stuff you'll see mundane to a power of 10. It's snapshots. I try to make 'em good, competent anyway, but most have interest mainly to me. I suspect that many of the great master painters, if they weren't doing stuff on commission 'cuz we all gotta eat, did stuff that just interested them, and the more time that passes between their world and ours, the less mundane the mundane appears because it shows history.

1. Do you find the image compelling? Boring? What is your emotional reaction to it?
I absolutely find it compelling, and very sad. It puts me in mind of an annual boyhood retreat to Block Island, Rhode Island, with my beloved grandparents, really my surrogate parents. I can hear that thin breathy whistle of wind around the window frame, rising and falling. Wyeth captures the gauze of the tattered curtains masterfully (and how else would a master do it). He even notes the tiny cracks in the blackout shade caused by sun and weathering. The day is bleak, with a thin overcast. The grass is browner than it is green. There is a strong sense of place, and a stronger sense of sadness. I think Wyeth is sitting in an old rocker just gazing out this window and thinking about ...nothing.

2. Would you want it on your wall? Why or why not?
As beautiful as it is, I don't think I would want to be around it too much. It's too sad, and resurfaces too many memories for me.

3. What do you think of the composition? Why do you think Wyeth made the choices he did about what to place where in the frame?
I could not presume to comment on Wyeth's composition. The main thing for me is that those tattered old curtains move! I can see them blowing lightly (they are so thin it doesn't take much), and hear the wind, which does not shriek but rather sighs.

4. What do you think of the color palette? How does that affect your thoughts about the painting? What about the lighting?
Wyeth's pallette here is so muted as to be almost monochrome, further evoking that deep, ineffable melancholy hovering with the moving curtains.

5. Do you make photographs of mundane subjects? Do you like them? How are they perceived by others?
Everything I do is mundane. I like them, but (*shrug*)

6. Photography, like painting, often has styles that are popular or not. Wyeth was criticized for being too realistic in his style. How is that dilemma (realism vs non-realism) played out in photography?
This is probably a subject for a whole 'nother thread. (Critics, by the way, get paid to criticize.) I got into photography for a couple of reasons: my dad was a professional photographer but died when I was only 10; and I had an artistic bent, or thought I did, but I could neither draw nor paint. When I started in photography in the mid-60's realism was what we were after. I still am, but with the digital revolution, and Photoshop (and all the others), it is now possible for those of us who cannot paint or draw to apply all sorts of whoopee filters to our photographs, and that to me is a GOOD thing! I particularly love the sow's-ear-to-silk-purse thing we can now do with relative ease. I came across this from Howard5252 just this morning, that literally shows that, while the painter can easily leave something out that he does not want there, the photographer can now easily take out what he does not want there!

Oh fer Pete's sake, I never saw the cat! Jeeeeepers. Well, now that I have, I have to agree that the cat may be...something. I always think "If I had made it," but I've never thought of doing something like this. Is the cat overbright? I don't think so since I didn't see it (although now my eye goes straight to it). "Unusual." "Unique." I think one thing that might work better would be if the cat were looking directly at the viewer. That would be more startling when the viewer (blind in one eye and not much better in t'other) finally finds the fershlugginer cat!

Realizing that it is off-topic, I want to say that I am inordinately fond of saying things like "cat's pajamas" and I use words like "swell." I have thus branded myself That Weird Guy Who Talks Funny.

Thanks for starting this, Steve. I recently concluded that I don't think I offer "critique;" I give my opinion. I don't feel qualified to critique, even with a degree in photography and more than 30 years of professional experience. "Who am I to judge?" I honestly wonder sometimes whether critics--people who earn a living criticizing and critiquing--don't just have oversize egos. I think critics need to believe that their opinions matter. I just don't have that kind of personality (although my bride of 46 years will tell you that I have a colossally inflated sense of self worth occasionally most of the time ). The thing is, I hate to be torn apart, so why would I want to tear someone else apart? Thus I tend to bypass it if I don't care for it, which I suppose is cowardly, especially if the maker of the image wants to learn from it. I tend mostly to comment on images I do like, withal trying my level best to say why I like it, rather than a simple thumb up.

I remember Linda's thread of March, and I agree. The more information a viewer has about where you thought you were going with an image, the more helpful they can be. I feel comfortable offering an opinion or comment on a likeable picture that could stand, say, a little crop or burning in or whatever. I am also comfortable offering a thumb up or two on something I really, really like, but I also feel it's important to say something about what attracted me, why it is "good" (in MY opinion alone).

The trouble with offering a picture for critique or comment is that it is your baby. It's something that you created. YOU like it, YOU think it's "the bee's knees" , you post with the hope of other folks validating your opinion of your own work, and you get reamed. YOU! get reamed. It is bad enough that one or more people, on the ragged edge (or more) of trolling attack the work; YOUR work. You made it, so if the work is attacked it is likely to feel personal. But then sometimes the flamethrowers are lit off and the attacks do become personal, intensely personal. Of course, it's the internet. Takes all kinds. That doesn't make it hurt less. It hasn't happened often to me but I'm kinda skittish about posting. When I see a flame war erupt over someone else, I feel hurt. Thus, when I offer an opinion, even if I am suggesting how something might be made better, I try very hard to say something positive as well, and if I don't think I can do that much I skip it.

I came over here to FYC because, for the most part, people do play reasonably well together in this sandbox. I also subscribed to the invitation-only Exploration of Digital Artistry. These are the only two sections I regularly look at and participate in because I hate trolling and flame wars and even "mean girls/guys." I suppose I should be less of a wimpy kid and weigh in on stuff I don't like, to offer suggestions for improvement, but there are more than enough folks willing to do that. I just think it's uber-important to critique kindly!