a report from the studio

I spend most of my days in my studio. This is the benefit of remote working. As long as my laptop is open, emails rolling in, numerous Zoom meeting, etc… I am “on the clock.” The advantage of having all of my art supplies readily available is a blessing and a curse. My studio space resembles my brain in many ways. Sometimes I need to turn it off, which in this case means randomly pulling “work in progress” off the walls, so I can stop thinking about THE WORK for at least a little while. The upside of working in this environment is that I can dabbler with an idea at anytime, and garner quick results, via Lightroom and my decent Canon printer. Case in point, I got a bug up my ass yesterday about my ongoing boredom with “straight” photography. At the same time, complete abstraction seems too easy sometimes, or just a plain, self-indulgent mess other times. The problem (not really a problem) with photography in general is that it seems so intrinsically tied to the real world (broad generalization, I know.) Somehow, someway, reality need to peek it’s head into the camera, and onto the subsequent print, or else it drifts into something else, something (primarily) non-photographic. I’ve taken to shooting through prisms lately (as seen last year in full effect in Paris) and I think what I like about the approach (when it works…and often it doesn’t…) is that it breaks just enough from reality, and falls into the territory of “uniqueness.” Reflections and transparency wielded in a barely controllable manner, with a heavy helping of serendipity. It reaps non-repeatable results, for sure. Images that are only by me, for better or for worse. Even dabbling in the studio becomes a journey into unknown territory, and as the above image can attest, sometime the results are magic.

Light and Darkness

A total solar eclipse occurred this week, visible to a large swath of the North American population. Unfortunately, New Mexico was not in the path of full totality, and the cloud cover obscured the partial eclipse in our sky. Still, there was noticeable shift in the midday light, and experiencing even a small bit of a shift away from the everyday was enough to give pause and provoke some deeper thoughts.

It was fascinating to watch coverage of the eclipse on my computer monitor. NASA did a wonderful job of tracking the progress via a live stream, complete with moody, new age music. The result was not schmaltzy but quite the contrary. The power and glory of the cosmos making its presence known to a great mass of people is a rare thing. Watching crowds gather and celebrate a celestial event was heartening. We all share this world, and it was nice to be reminded that we are all within something greater than ourselves.

Where Are You Going?

More time in my old hometown. I’m not going to pretend that it’s an enjoyable place for me to visit. With the cold, damp blast of winter, it’s even less hospitable. My camera provided little solace, though a wander through the woods down the block from my father’s house gave me a small bit of nature; a reprieve. Back when I was a kid, you could cross paths with a skunk or a possum in these woods. But in the decades since I left, deer have become ubiquitous in the area. They show little fear of humans, which is maybe a blessing and a curse for both sides of the equation. I did come face to face with this youngster while wandering through the late February thaw / muck. We sized each other up before parting ways. Two lone creatures trying to get through life while surrounded by suburban sprawl, we shared something in common on a gray afternoon in New Jersey.

Treasure From Trash

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From time to time, I spend a few hours in a community darkroom here in Albuquerque. Though it open to “select” members of the community, the nicest thing about it is that when I book time there, I have the entire darkroom to myself. No fighting over when to turn on the lights, and I can use multiple enlargers at the same time. I like to experiment with expired papers, odd exposure techniques, and often times, found negatives.

One a recent visit, I found some “failed” film on the ground, stuffed in the corner of the darkroom, covered in dust and dirt. A few rolls that someone had obviously loaded incorrectly into the developing tank, it had chemical marks, streaks, and plenty of evidence that the film stuck to itself during the processing. The creator obviously discarded the film, seeing no value in it. On the other hand, I find these kinds of mishaps intriguing. I sometime distress my film intentionally to get the kinds of random results that this artist clearly distanced themselves from. I rolled up the forgotten film and brought it back to my studio. I eventually got around to scanning it an manipulating it in Lightroom. I like the unrestricted chance to play with this film, allowing for panoramic abstractions that are more about the medium itself than the need for any recognizable image. I love the results. I suppose I should give credit to my anonymous collaborator. One person’s trash is another’s treasure, indeed.

Remembering Larry Fink

I was sad to hear over the past few days that photographer Larry Fink had passed away. Larry was of a generation of photographers, coming-of-age in the 1960s, when social consciousness was at the forefront of their work. Larry always struck a strong balance between documentary approach and fine art aesthetics. He was unique because, though he was social aware, his work was not simply dismissed as “cause” related. Maybe it was the Rembrandt-like lighting he often achieved with his flash. Larry is probably best known for his look at social stratification, the “haves” and the “have nots.” This work is the basis of much of Larry’s career, and is the featured subject of his outstanding book Social Graces from 1985.

It was around the time that this book was released that I first became aware of Larry Fink’s work. I was a college student at the time studying photography in New Jersey and I actually had a connection to Larry through a friend who worked as a darkroom assistant for him in nearby Pennsylvania. As part of my studies and involvement in the photography department, I thought it would be a good idea to reach out to Larry and see if he might come and meet with the fellow photo students at my school and also make a presentation. I got his phone number from the friend left him a message, and then lo and behold he called back, leaving me a message on an answering machine (old technology, I know…) The message made my film student roommate freak out that somebody of the caliber of Larry Fink would be leaving me a message. That’s the kind of world that we lived in that a figure such as Larry would make that kind of impression on us. Larry did agree to come spend a day with me and my fellow photo students, and he was charming and gracious ; very giving with his time, and I remember the work that he shared as part of his presentation left all of us inspired and impressed.

Needless to say, Larry’s whole career produced a string of stellar bodies of work. You can easily Google “Larry Fink, photographer” and see examples of his work. It’s sad when the greats of the medium pass on, but we are fortunate that they leave us inspiring bodies of work that will last far longer than any of us will. Thank you Larry, rest in peace.

Paris: City of Photography

I recently returned from a trip to Paris, France, where I attended Paris Photo, the largest annual photography gathering in Europe. This was my first visit, and thanks to my podcast, I was able to secure a press pass. The show itself was overwhelming, with numerous galleries showcasing a wide array of work, including classic photos, new photography, and digital photography. There were also booksellers and book signings, and to top it all off, an installation by Daido Moriyama.

The Paris Photo show spanned four days, and I found it so overwhelming that I attended three times. However, the city had many other photography-related events taking place simultaneously. One such event was Polycopies, an independent publishing photo book event held on a boat stationed on the Seine River. Polycopies served as a “punk rock” response to the larger, corporate attitude of Paris Photo, and I personally found it more to my liking. Another noteworthy show was OffPrint, focusing on books, not limited to photography but encompassing various printed matter. It drew a diverse crowd and added to the cultural richness of my experience.

The Pompidou Center hosted a photography exhibit well worth attending, titled “Corps à corps - Histoire(s) de la photographie” featuring an impressive array of work spanning the history of photography. I also had the pleasure of attending a photo exhibit by Julia Margaret Cameron, showcasing beautiful Victorian glass plate prints at the Jeu de Paume museum. However, one of the highlights of my time in Paris was attending a Michael Ackerman photo exhibit at the Camera Obscura Gallery in Montparnasse. I even had the opportunity to meet Michael and engage in extensive discussions about his work.

In addition to savoring delicious meals and indulging in a bit too much smoking, I immersed myself in the photography that surrounded me. The experience left me inspired, and I found myself compelled to capture many moments through my lens. More on that front will undoubtedly come in the future. I've already marked my calendar for next year's Paris Photo dates, eagerly anticipating another visit to this vibrant city that truly shone as the center of the photographic world during a wonderful week in November. I consider myself fortunate to have been a part of it.

I-40 West; Grants, New Mexico

Doldrums tend to strike if I sit idle for too long. Such was the case this weekend. A full tank of gas and a new camera to play with was enough motivation to get me out of town, for a quick day / road trip. Jump on the Interstate and head west, and all sorts of things await discovery. Even old haunts that I’ve tread through numerous times can yield new images. Especially when the weather takes a sudden, dramatic, turn for the worse. Desert rain is usually a cause for celebration, even on a day when photos are on the docket. The roads might get treacherous, but the views through the camera were worth the moments of white knuckle driving.

Making Contact

 Over the past few years, I have moved further away from straight photography in my creative practice. Any follower of this blog will have known that I have taken various drastic departures in pursuit of image making. At the same time, I’ve struggled with the fact that a “photograph” by is intrinsically representational.

Regardless of whatever manipulation one does: with lens or camera choices, post exposure manipulation (both analog and digital) there are still the fingerprints of some direct representation of the world within the image. This continues to be a quandary for me to deal with creatively. I have been revolting against the stream of similarity of images on social media: the impermanence and banality of even the most technically proficient photographs. Interesting subject matter or interesting concepts represented in a straight photographic manner for one reason or another has lost its appeal to me.

And yet. As I wrestle with this paradox I am looking for a detente of sorts. One small step I have recently taken is to carry around a small point shoot some camera with me. Through my daily obligations and travels I’ve been snapping photos of anything that happens to catch my eye at a certain point. I try not overthink the relevance of the subject matter, nor the technical approach. At the same time I am creating straight still photographs of the world around me.

This week I developed two rolls of the film I shot and it is still curious to me that even the most throwaway images seem to possess some kind of extra power when locked forever in silver halide on a roll of film. What might become of these images? Nothing, most likely. However, spending an evening developing, then scanning and studying his images has served some form of emancipation from my internal struggles with the work I create. There is still something quite alluring about seeing 36 images lined up on a sheet of paper. This current practice of mine, resulting in a contact sheet to meditate upon, is well worth the time invested.

Another Trip around The Sun

Today is my birthday. 57 years ago I came out of the quiet unknown of the womb... of non-existence… of the great nothing, or maybe the great everything. I am a survivor, as you are as well. No matter your age or station in life, we are here, we have survived the trials and tribulations that life throws at us. Congratulations to you and to me.

This past year has been especially hard for me, and the ups and downs that inevitably come have challenged me in ways before unknown. If I believed in God (capital G) I would thank him for giving me the strength and wisdom to carry on. There are clearly other forces out there in the universe that push and pull energy around me, and through me, too. This energy mostly manifests itself in my art; my self-expression. I am grateful to have it. I might not be here without it.

Good things have come to me, mostly wrapped in love and honesty and when I am am open and receptive to it. When I am dark, it is hard for any light to shine through. I continue to do the work…inside and outside of myself. Even when it is hard, or when my lethargic self kicks any ambition to the curb… I strive. One small act a day. Something made from my heart, deep from within, manifesting it to a tangible reality. Mostly junk that piles up in my studio. Mistakes, short tangents, tests and trials and failures. Always failures. Gratitude for the failures.

I’ve been down a rabbit hole recently, listening to an audiobook by a Jungian psychologist and it is hitting me strongly. Second half of life shit is no joke. If you’ve been there (or are there now) you know what I’m talking about. If you are a younger person, scoff all you want at these words, as I would have if I read something this sappy (or heavy…or brutally honest) when I was a younger lad.

I’ll leave these thoughts here, and probably look at them again in a year or five or ten (god willing…small g) and probably laugh at myself for being so transparent, or so confused, or so on target. Until then, “Happy Birthday” to me.

Join the Union

Creatively, I consider myself a blue-collar artist. I did not go to a fancy art school or leverage a Yale MFA for the golden ticket into the art world. I make my art as part of my every day life. I sympathize with the every day workers specifically in the creative field. Right now there is a writer’s and an actor‘s strike in Hollywood, something that I personally support. In a larger sense, I am a supporter of unions protecting the rights of workers.

Recently, I joined a union myself. Not a worker’s union per se, though some might consider it an art workers union. I recently joined an online group, called the Union of International Mail Artists. This group has been active for decades, and centers on the sharing of artwork via the Postal Service. Their credo aligns perfectly with how I feel personally about my art. I believe in sharing freely and I really enjoy when art has no financial entanglements attached to it. The main activity of being a member of this group is finding mailing addresses of members on the UIOMA website and then sending these members artwork through the mail. It has been a satisfying endeavor so far for me, sending out my handmade postcards to strangers around the world. Perhaps even more satisfying is having random pieces of art show up in my mailbox on my front porch from time to time.

There is a subversive anti-establishment streak that permeates this group that appeals to my own small version of fighting the system. Sometimes finding like-minded people out there in the world is all a person needs to be reminded that they are not alone, and that they are on the right path.

The union forever!