Thanks Peter,
The artist is now asleep , but I’ll pass on your kind words tomorrow.
The rest of this post may well belong elsewhere, but as my original art and tax query has been so thoroughly and succinctly answered, maybe I can continue on the former subject
Our house is several metres from the banks of the Lot and (fortunately) several more metres above it. Consequently, we look down on the river, day after day, and season after season. As a result of this degree of direct observation, the paintings have a sound foundation of the artist’s visual understanding of her subject, which is very different that to gained working from photographs, where ones understanding is shaped primarily by what the camera has been able to record.
However, not withstanding the above, I’ve recently had a very interesting experience with a camera and the river. An airline pilot friend has just bought a drone with a hi-resolution camera and together we’ve been photographing the Lot from above. I’m the art director and he controls the drone (it seems to work better that way round!).
My surprises were threefold: firstly, a skilled operator can precisely manoeuvre this drone to within a couple of centimetres; secondly (very obviously, and yet not) unlike traditional cameras, it enables you to see through a monitor, views that are not directly available to the naked eye; lastly the high resolution and tripod-like stability of the drone enables one to see in a new way.
I have some amazing photographs taken from a metre above a weir (which one wouldn’t be able to take from a boat, or a plane, or even a helicopter) where the hi-res/hi shutter speed has frozen incredible minute detail of waterweed flowing in the tumult of the weir, and which I’m now having blown up to a metre and a half across.
So, one might argue that the traditional subject of photography was what was visible within the direct field of vision (even though this might be enhanced or magnified through lenses, microscopes etc.) Similarly, traditional aerial photography either used a photographer in a balloon (Nadar, Paris 1863!) or later a man in an aeroplane, but the camera remained an extension of the cone of vision.
I think (please correct me…) that it’s only with satellite based photography that this really changes, but as far as I understand this is a fairly automatic process in contrast to the traditional one of the photographer choosing the ‘decisive moment’ to press the shutter. Also, astronomical photography is digitally enhanced and colourised to a dispiritingly high degree, that through interpolation software can turn a small group of pixels into a possible/probable galaxy.
The above reflections make me wish I was still writing papers that enabled me to travel all over the place to interesting academic conferences. If anyone’s read this far, thanks for your interest and tenacity!