If Maxx Burman does his job right, you won't even notice his work because it not only blends into the background it is the background. The Los Angeles-based matte painter and VFX supervisor has digitally painted frozen tundras, alien environments, and other wild virtual landscapes for some of the world's most prominent films. His matte paintings have served as the backdrops for Hollywood blockbusters (Godzilla and Iron Man 3), popular shows (Game Of Thrones and The Walking Dead), and video games (Call of Duty and League of Legends).
However, two years ago Burman realized he was consciously disowning the directorial changes made to his work. While working on blockbusters, he had to let his work go and allow someone else to tinker, shape, or even overhaul what he designed. So for the time being, he has made the choice to step away from focusing on the big titles and to find projects with clients who let him inject his personal style into the work.
After leaving his art director role at Elastic Pictures in June, Burman is committing more hours to personal projects, including his game One More Night and his first solo art show, Disconnect.
We talked with Burman about how he established himself as a go-to matte painter for Hollywood, why he has shelved those gigs at the moment, and how that led him to appreciate his art in a whole new way.
I fell in love with Photoshop and painting at a young age, so I put a lot of hours into trying new things and teaching myself new tools. I didn't even realize that there was a career around this at first. When I was 18, after high school, I cold-called every visual effects studio I could find online and just said, “I need to be in the studio, on that side of things. I don't care if I have to make the coffee!” That's how I got my first job as an intern at Zoic.
There is so much that I still use today. He would give me art history classes, and taught me how artists like French painter Jean-Léon Gérôme would use composition to tell a story in a painting, or how the Hudson River School painters used color and light to move your eye around a canvas. One of the big non-art lessons he taught me was about taking pride in my craft and how to present myself. A lot of people in Vfx studios wear shorts and sandals, but when I started working with Syd, that ended. With him, I had to wear a dress shirt, dress shoes, and nice jeans or slacks. He would tell me, “It doesn't matter what everyone else is doing, it's your responsibility to maintain the respect of matte painting, and that means presenting yourself in a professional way.” That never left me.
One of my early jobs as a concept artist was designing a Coca-Cola commercial tying in to the first Avatar movie. There was so much mystery and hype around the 10-year production of Avatar, and everything was top secret. I was given a couple hours in a room with a book that had all of the concept art for the film. I had to memorize the look of different environments before painting 10 concepts for this commercial.
For four straight days I was at the studio, and I finished the 10 paintings. On the night before the pitch, slightly delirious and sleep deprived, my producer and I went to Kinko's to print out all of the art work. We left the files with a Kinko's employee and grabbed a couple coffees while we waited for the printing to finish. We returned to the studio at 7 a.m., and dropped off the printed boards of paintings that we had gift wrapped with a huge bow. Then we both went home for the day and passed out.
I woke up that night to tons of voicemails and missed calls. They were from the receptionist at the studio, saying that FBI agents were there looking for me. The producer I was working with, and I rushed back into the studio, to find that Kinko's had flagged us for leaking “top secret” material and reported it to the FBI who went to investigate and tracked it back to us.
By the time we made it back to the studio, everything had been handled. It was shown that the “top secret” work was work from the film. There weren't any consequences, but it was one hell of a scare.
I've actually spent my whole career trying not to have a style and to adapt to whatever a client wants, while trying to do something different every time. I've learned over the years how to communicate visually and understand what a director is looking for so I can nail a look quickly and with precision. Now that I've done thousands of paintings, I've started to pay attention more and more to my tendencies and taste, and I realize what my personal style actually is, even if it's hidden underneath surface styles of different projects. Lately, I've been more interested in working with people who trust me to give them something good and let me inject a bit more of myself in my work.
I've found that being able to adapt to any style broadens your range of possible clients. That's one of the reasons why I never got too attached to a single style, and why I've always tried to hit every end of the spectrum, whether it's animation, abstract, or photo-real. Right now, however, I'm focused on developing my signature style. It's not all I do, but I see the benefit of it. Having your own style broadcasts to the world what you enjoy doing. That might narrow down the possible clients, but that's not a bad thing. You're honing in on the clients and projects that you enjoy most, and there's a lot of value in that.
It's really easy to lose yourself in the tools technology gives us. I start by sketching because it allows me to forget about all of the clutter and focus on the important foundation that any image needs to be built on: composition, shape, and light. I know I have the tools to make something look beautiful, detailed and real, but that's all for nothing if it's not built on solid design choices.
Not at all. I approach every project the same way, whether it's a commercial, a short film, or a big blockbuster. It's all in or nothing for me! I try to get all the business stuff out the away at the beginning and then we can focus on creating the best visuals possible. When a project doesn't have a budget, I have to call in favors and I have to make sure that those people are ready to go down that rabbit hole with me. We did one a couple of years ago called Polis with director Steven Ilous, which was pretty much a freebie project where I called in every favor I had. We ended up having a team of 50 people in five countries working for four months on it as a passion project. You do a project for different reasons: sometimes you do it for the money and sometimes you do it for the excitement. This one I did to work with all my favorite people, in all my favorite studios gathered around one big project.
I always thought it would be different working on large projects, but at the end of the day you are still in front of your computer doing your thing and it doesn't really change. I spent a lot of time working to get the big projects, and then the only thing that got me would be a little ego trip for a while. I hope that my work speaks for itself without the project title on it. That's always my goal. I haven't worked on a film in around two years. I spent so long going after blockbusters, and once I got them I realized that I was doing that for my own ego, and I wasn't really satisfied. I worked on Iron Man 3 a couple of years ago, and leading up to it you think, This is going to be huge. And it was. It was big and awesome, but you lived that for six months and then it comes out and you have opening weekend and you celebrate with your friends and then it's forgotten. Because of that I took a step away from chasing the big titles and focused on the projects that would let me live the life I wanted to live and create the paintings I wanted to create no matter what they were for. That has bought me a lot more happiness and satisfaction.
The hardest things I've had to learn in my career so far is changing the relationship I have to a painting. There's a point when my work is no longer my work, I have to let go and realize it belongs to someone else. I might get notes I don't agree with, or the painting might be composited into a shot differently than I intended. It almost never happens that I see a final image on the screen that is exactly what I painted. There's always a point with client work that I have to disown the artwork, and allow it to become whatever it's going to become. Through the years, I've learned how to fall out of love with my work.
Everyone is on their own path, and we all have different measures of success. For me, blockbusters are fun. I enjoy working on them, but they don't define my career. That's just me and my journey. If someone wants to define their career by their credits, and it makes them feel successful, thats awesome.
US one sheet for DRUMS ALONG THE MOHAWK (John Ford, USA, 1939)
Artist: uncredited
Poster source: Heritage Auctions
Photograph of the Stevens Family outside their home in Linn Creek, Missouri, ca. 1905 by an unidentified photographer. Silver and photographic gelatin on photographic paper
(Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture, Gift of Jackie Bryant Smith)
Clutching a revolver against his chest, an unidentified African American Union soldier stares out from an 1861-1865 Civil War tintype. Barack and Michelle Obama relax together on a sofa in their Chicago home in a 1996 black and white portrait taken by Mariana Cook. An African American mother smiles joyfully at her newborn baby in a 1952 photograph by Robert Gailbraith from the series “Reclaiming Midwives: Stills from All My Babies.” Breathtaking, tragic, solemn, overwhelming, exuberant are but a few of the adjectives that try but fail to capture the radiance and breadth of the some 30,000 photographs now in the permanent collection of the Smithsonian's National Museum of African American History and Culture.
Started by curators Michèle Gates Moresi and Jacquelyn Serwer, this remarkable collection has lately been growing with the added expertise of Aaron Bryant, one of NMAAHC's curators, and Rhea Combs, head of the museum's Stafford Center for African American Media Arts. “Michelle, Jackie, Rhea and I work as a team, acquiring photographs for the museum,” Bryant explains. Other curators, however, also collect images relevant to their particular interests.
Here Smithsonian Insider asks Bryant a few questions about what type of photos he looks for and how he acquires them for the African American History and Culture Museum.
Portrait of a couple on a motorcycle outside of Anderson Photo Service studio ca. 1960, by Rev. Henry Clay Anderson. Silver and photographic gelatin on acetate film (Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture)
Bryant: One way is to build relationships directly with photographers. Our job is to share history and preserve American legacies, and sharing and preserving the work of photographers who have documented our nation's culture and history is part of that.
Equally important, however, are the scores of donors who have reached out to the museum. You'd be surprised and touched by the number of people who have donated their collections, including family albums with images that extend as far back as the 19th century.
The provenance and personal stories behind certain images, as well as the donors' reasons for wanting to donate, are incredibly moving. People supporting NMAAHC's vision by helping to build the museum through donating family treasures has real value to us. Our collection is like a national family album of sorts, with thousands of different branches in the family tree, and each one is significant to telling a broader story. Our donors become an important part of a national history, and the sense that the museum is working with a community of people as part of a national family aligns with our mission.
We've also gotten certain photographs from collectors, auction houses, and galleries. They've been instrumental in helping us identify specific, hard to find images that are essential to stories we want to tell.
Autographed photograph of LeRoi Jones, Jan. 31, 1962 by Carl Van Vechten. Silver and photographic gelatin on photographic paper. (Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture)
Bryant: Yes. A photograph is actually an object in many ways. Just as museums are most interested in collecting original three-dimensional artifacts, we collect original photographs, negatives, digital negatives, or digital scans from negatives, depending on why and how the photo will be shared with the public. Antique and vintage photos and negatives, are different from the contemporary images that sometimes come to us as digital negatives from the photographer.
In addition to being an object, though, images are also archival documents. So we'd want to collect images as original archival material as well. Our collection of Robert Houston's images from his time at Resurrection City during the 1968 Poor People's Campaign is an example. In addition to the journal he kept at the time, we also have images he shot as a visual diary of his experiences with the poverty campaign. The collection includes vintage prints and slides. He made an earlier donation of high-resolution digital scans of negatives. As a museum operating in the 21st century, we recognize that the original might also include digital files from digital cameras or high-resolution scans of negatives, which helps to stabilize images.
Views of Thomasville and Vicinity: 44 Weighing Cotton ca. 1895 by photographer A. W. Möller. Unidentified women and men. Albumen and silver on paper mounted on cardboard. (Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture, Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Norman and Sandra Lindley)
Bryant: We're building a collection that reflects America's history, African American culture, and a history of photography. So in addition to covering people, places, events, subjects, and time periods, the collection is also an evolutionary survey of photographic processes and mediums that cover a spectrum of time periods. The collection ranges from 19th century daguerreotypes to digital images as recent as several months ago. In fact, we have cell phone images from Devin Allen as examples of a new photographic medium in art, social media, and photojournalism. Allen captured images of protests in Baltimore, which Time magazine and a number of other media outlets later published after they went viral online. Aperture recently published a few in its special issue “Vision & Justice,” which is getting lots of global attention in the field.
“Positive Reflections,” unidentified man, Oct. 16, 1995, by photographer Roderick Terry. Silver and photographic gelatin on photographic paper. (Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture, Gift of Roderick Terry)
Our collection also houses traditional mediums like gelatin silver prints, magic lantern slides, carte-de-visites, cabinet cards, ambrotypes, tintypes, negatives and transparencies, and a host of other examples of how photography has evolved from its early history in the 1800s to today.
We're also considering the evolution of artistic genres, from Pictorialism and the painterly kinds of images of late 19thcentury early modernism to contemporary art photography, straight photography, portraiture, and abstraction. We extend beyond the historicity of social documentary and photojournalism a bit to include traditional genres and interesting hybrids, where images are created through innovative and unexpected mediums. Since the museum also collects visual art, artistic genres in photography is something we will consider more as we move forward.
In this tintype an unidentified African American Union soldier with a moustache and beard, holds a pistol across his chest. His buttons and belt buckle are hand-colored in gold paint. The hand-coloring on the buckle reads “Z O”. Thermoplastic case with brass hinges and red velvet liner. (Collection of the National Museum of African American History and Culture)
My particular interests are in sociopolitical history, cultures of everyday life, and art photography. There are lots of photographers who create social documentary photography that's also considered art. Sometimes the purely social documentary images give us a lot of cultural and historical information.
Bryant: We've published four books focusing on the museum's photography collection and will soon publish a fifth. The first book was Through the African American Lens. In our second book, Civil Rights and the Promise of Equality, there is a photo by James H. Wallace taken in 1964 of students in Chapel Hill, N.C. participating in a July 4, protest against segregation. In looking at the image, we'd consider ways the photograph might document an American story from different perspectives, including African Americans. It's 1964. What was Chapel Hill like at that time? What was North Carolina as a cultural and ideological space like for people at that time? And what was the university like for students, as well as for the people working or living in the area?
Photograph of Senator Henry Hall Falkener and family ca. 1905. Unidentified photographer. Silver and photographic gelatin on photographic paper. (Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture, Gift of Margaret Falkener DeLorme, Waldo C. Falkener, Cameron S. Falkener and Gilbert E. DeLorme)
In North Carolina by 1963, Bob Jones was leading the emergence of one of the largest Klan groups in the country. The Klan had become notorious in North Carolina and the effects of their presence were felt generations later. So the Chapel Hill images have a certain context that goes beyond the two-dimensionality of the photograph.
No matter the period, it's the history surrounding the image that helps us tell American stories. African American perspectives can be the prism for interpreting the experience. Then there might be a broader contextualization in which the photo and the moment it captures is placed within a larger history. What led to that particular protest in Chapel Hill, for example, and how might the moment reflect 1964 America?
Bryant: The museum and its collection were built from scratch. We started without a collection or facility, but now we have a museum on the National Mall with roughly 30,000 images. We've collected to build a foundation for the photography collection, while hoping to add to the canons in various fields in a way that shifts cultural paradigms and historical narratives.
We also were aware that we were building a 21st century collection for a museum that would serve several generations. So while collecting to preserve a distant past, we also collect to reflect contemporary histories and issues as well. We built the collection with the idea that we are about the present and the future, as well as the past.
Untitled (photograph from the Film & Photo League Archive) by unidentified photographer, 1931 1936. Silver and photographic gelatin on photographic paper. (Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture)
Bryant: We recently accessioned photographs of Black Lives Matter protests in different cities, including Ferguson and Baltimore. This would be a case in which we accessioned images with history, the present, and the future in mind.
The photographs were taken by Zun Lee, Sheila Pree Bright, Jermaine Gibbs, and Devin Allen. Allen is the millennial sensation, whose images of unrest in Baltimore went viral on social media. Allen democratized photography in a way that impacted the field for future generations, using social media, rather than mainstream media, as a voice and platform. Jermaine Gibbs is a commercial photographer in Baltimore, who also captured images of the city's unrest. Zun Lee and Shelia Pree Bright have also gotten media attention in recent years as part of a new generation of socially conscious photographers. They are redefining traditions. Sheila is known for her series 1960NOW! and Plastic Bodies, while Zun has received recognition for his series of found Polaroids, Fade Resistance, as well as his Father Figure series. Acquisitions that involve contemporary social histories, while working with living photographers like these, are exciting.
However, another one of my favorite acquisitions was also one of my first acquisitions for the museum. Our chief curator, Jackie Serwer, and I met with a donor, Simone Durrah Logan, who wanted to donate her family photos from the 19th and early 20th century. They were a wedding gift from her dad. Most of the images were taken in Yankton, S.D.
Few people think about the history of African Americans in places like North and South Dakota during Reconstruction. When we think of African American history, we often think of the east coast, but African Americans were building communities and creating cultures all over the country. Simone's family images help us to create new narratives and perspectives and share stories about what attracted communities of African Americans out west following Emancipation.
Ambrotype of Frederick Douglass, 1855-1865, by an unidentified photographer. Collodion and silver on glass photographic plates, leather. (Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture)
Bryant: Images have power. As a form of language, visual data influences the way we create social meaning and share cultural knowledge. Seeing and then interpreting what we see is critical to our understanding the world from a particular lens or worldview.
Additionally, images have an ability to communicate beyond the power or necessity of words. It is true that a picture can be worth a thousand words, particularly in contemporary cultures that are visually driven. Images offer “thick descriptions” of people, events, places, and particular moments in time. It's why social media is so popular and instrumental in present-day cultures.
Images also offer first-person perspectives on historical events that help us see and understand from different points of view. Photographs allow us to immerse ourselves in the histories and moments caught in a camera's lens.
Photographs can be objects or works of art. They can be a form of archival texts that document time, or windows into different cultures and worlds from our past. I like to think that photographs can bear witness. They provide visual evidence of a culture as a testament to our nation's history.
The post Building a grand photography collection for the new African American museum appeared first on Smithsonian Insider.
1960 Czech poster for MOANA (Serge Arnoux, Bernard Gorki, Roger Lesage, Pierre Pasquier, France, 1959)
Designer: Daisy Mrazkova
Poster source: Posteritati