Brett Weston
[Photographer, b. 1911, Los Angeles, d. 1993, Kona, Hawaii.]

 My work is my language and I don’t discuss it very easily. It’s difficult for me to verbalize my feelings, or to intellectualize my work. In fact, it used to annoy me when Ansel Adams and Paul Strand yak-yak-yakked about what photography meant, and I told them so. 
 Of course, we were not promoters, we Westons, let’s face it. Dad had only $300 in the bank at the end, that’s all he had. 
 The camera for an artist is just another tool. It is no more mechanical than a violin if you analyze it. Beyond the rudiments, it is up to the artist to create art, not the camera. 
 Anything more than 500 yds from the car just isn’t photogenic. 
 You’re trying to pin me down. I’m not a verbal person. Look at my work and decide for yourself. It’s hard to put it into words. 
 The taint of age can be very beautiful. The wreckage of man-made objects is something more beautiful than the new. Rust and weathering adds a patina of... well, I call it “elegant shit” or “elegant gorp.” 
 Photography is 90% sheer, brutal drudgery! The other 10% is inspiration!! 
 I use various types of cameras and photograph anything, anytime. It could be something modern or an ancient rock, it doesn’t matter. But, unless a landscape is invested with a sense of mystery, it is no better than a postcard. 
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