Hello friends, I am proud to share my newest art project with you today. My fascination with photographic images has always run parallel with my love of moving images. To that end, over the past year or so, I have been exploring an archive of public domain movies. I have been photographing the source material, and then manipulating the images, creating a final quadtych. Each moment of the film becomes a departure point for me to apply my own narrative via dialogue subtitles. The aesthetic of foreign cinema, specifically the French New Wave has heavily influenced my creation of this body of work. Each individual card is meant to be a singular piece, but by sharing the set in a unbound manner I invite the viewer to create their own sequence of images. Perhaps a new story will result every time the cards are rearranged. This project is a "cinema of my dreams" and I am happy to share it with you today. Each set is 23 cards, with a bellyband, housed in a DVD case, featuring custom cover art, front and back. Signed and numbered. Cost is $25 plus shipping (US and Canada Only) Click on the button below to go to my online store!
2021: 10 Three New Publications
If you have been a frequent visitor to my site, you know that my primary outlet for my work is via self-published zines and books. I am proud to announce the release of three new publications, and offer them to you for pre-sale today.
As 2020 drew to its conclusion, and the new year kicked off in inauspicious fashion, I hunkered down in my studio, focussing on several projects that were in various stages of completion. Social isolation has proven an ideal scenario for me to wrap up these three new publications, and I thought "why not release them all at once?" Though the subject matter definitely has some commonality, each publication has its own unique look and feel. Each is a limited edition, signed and numbered. I am now taking pre-order for a late March shipment.
Collateral Damage: A big step outside my comfort zone. A continuation of the destructive path started with my "Sacrosanct" series. These photo collages are the result of burning, bleaching, melting, cutting, gluing and taping original photo prints to create unique new pieces of art. The oversized format allows the viewer to take a deep dive into the work, exploring textures and colors that deserve to be seen in person. Web galleries pale in comparison. I'm very proud to share this new body of work in this large format zine.
Twelve Kinds of Silence: A zine that took me over a year to produce. Twelve monthly visits to the bosque along the Rio Grande in New Mexico, with a half-frame film camera. One day a month, one roll of film shot each visit. A study in time and change in a location near and dear to me.
Sacrosanct: Based on an earlier publication from the "Flaunt" series, this new zine is an expanded exploration of the film destruction I started in the middle of 2020. Featuring a larger size, more pages, new writing and lots of new imagery.
For the keen-eyed visitor, you will also notice that my website has been updated to include galleries of all three bodies of new work. Viewing online is obviously not the same experience as holding a real object in your hands, but I hope seeing the various images will whet your appetite to make a purchase. So…take a look and if you are willing and able, click the button below to pre-order your copies today. I am extremely grateful and humbled by your ongoing interest and your support. Ars longa, vita brevis.
I apologize if this message is a duplicate of an earlier email from me. I respect your privacy and your patience.
2020: 13 (The Ties That Bind)
I will not dwell on the doom and gloom that seems to be floating around the internet. I’m trying my best to socially distance, stay home, focus on the positive, stay entertained, stay entertaining, love more, worry less… and above all else KEEP CREATING. As artists, this is important. Put truth and beauty and art into the world, if only to offset the pain, suffering, fear and death. As an existentialist, these things are always present in my mind anyway, why wait for a global pandemic to rouse it?
“I get the news I need on the weather report.”
I spent a good many hours this week focusing on my next self-publish project. I won’t give too many details, as I’m still trying to assess the best time for its release, but I will share that the main book will be a 12 inch square, with a Japanese, hand-stitched binding. It took my two solid days of work to bind the 25 copies of the book, which included hand drilling holes for each individual page, then threading and sewing the finished, collated pages. I found the process at turns tiring, meditative, and ultimately, very rewarding.
It helped my fill some hours at home; I am grateful that I have a safe place to ride out the pandemic isolation. But I am also grateful for modern technology, especially video chatting, which I did numerous times this week. FaceTime with my family, Skype with overseas friends, and Zoom Happy Hour with local friends. Tuesday night was extra special, as it was the first “virtual” gathering on the local, photo nerd, camera geek, self-publishing happy hour. It is so nice to have familiar faces tasing a beer in unison, even if we are separated at home. It is so important to foster the ties that bind us together. Its really the only way we are going to get through the current challenges, and prepare for the inevitable “next time.” Stay well. Stay safe. Stay home.
2020: 9 (A Trip To The Library)
There is such a wealth of information about photography available today. I admit, I spend countless hours online, listening to photo podcasts, watching YouTube videos of photographers shooting, scrolling through Instagram, or reading articles and blogs by photographers. But all of these things cannot replace the experience of holding a book in my hands, looking at photos on the printed page, and reading the thoughts of critical thinkers and artists.
I was inspired by an article I stumbled upon this week written by Teju Cole… who if you don’t him, you should check out his work. Not only is he a great writer on the medium, but he is also a great photographer in his own right. He recently wrote a very insightful article about the value of photography books. It is well worth the read. I had him in mind as I headed to the Ernie Pyle Library here in Albuquerque this week. I picked up a couple of photo criticism books that I’m looking forward to reading. These were in addition to a recent copy of Daido Moriyama’s “How I Take Photographs” that I picked up over the holidays.
I think it’s important to not only take photographs, not only look at photographs, but also to read about photographs. It is helpful to put some thought into analyzing the work of other artists. Trying to interpret the effort or reasoning behind their work. I also find that knowing how to “read” a photograph is a valuable skill, not only for image makers, but for our audience as well.
I am most excited to dive into the John Berger book “Understanding A Photograph.” Berger was an important artistic and social critic who’s book “Ways of Seeing” transformed my understanding of visual communication. He was required reading when I studied in art school. I am ready for my mind to be further expanded when I read this book.
I must say that though we can get plenty of free information from the internet, and as a faithful consumer there is the obvious attraction to buying books, but I truly believe a trip to the library is one of our greatest social / civic privileges. The opportunity to have access to so much valuable information, for no cost, is truly a gift not to be taken for granted.
2020: 8 (No Judgement)
Wrapping up quite a week. Here’s a re-cap: pre-production for a commercial shoot, improv rehearsal, Tuesday night photo book meet up, camera club judging (more on that) a 12 hour day on set yesterday, followed by two improv sets in Santa Fe last night. Oh, yeah, a visit to my doctor since I am still sick with the crud… four weeks and counting. Good times… I’ll sleep when I’m dead.
Thursday night was an event that I had booked many months ago… something that had almost fallen off my radar, honestly. A local group of photographers called the Enchanted Lens Camera Club had asked me to judge their monthly photo competition. The theme was “Taken on a Smart Phone.” I was excited to review the work, especially since I was curious about how a group of serious photo enthusiasts would tackle the challenge of only shooting with their phones. Truth be told, the commitment to be their judge took me more time than I had anticipated, but my passion for photography pushed me to give the work the time and consideration it deserved. I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the submissions overall. And there were a handful of real gems in the almost 90 photos I reviewed. Amusingly enough, the photo I chose as my favorite of the night was a shot of fishermen taken in Porto, Portugal… a very special place to me personally.
Part of my obligation was to critique each photo as part of a talk / presentation to the group. I have a bit of a problem giving criticism to anyone photographically, but I also wanted to provide constructive feedback to the group. I hope I struck a balance in my critique. A few members personally thanked me afterwards… and no irate shutterbugs were waiting for me in the parking lot, so I guess all went over well. They also gave me the chance to give a 10 minute presentation of my own work. I focussed on my self-publishing efforts, as I thought it was a topic many in the group would not immediately consider as an outlet for their own photography. It was a nice chance for me to reflect on this journey of photo book printing that I find myself on, and it came at a good time, as I’m prepping my next project as I write this.
I quickly edited a short 15 second video of my books to include in my presentation. Thought it would be fun to also share it here. Life is short… print your photos.
2020: 2 (Mitch Epstein: Sunshine Hotel)
As I’ve mentioned in the past on this blog, I see it as a blessing and a curse that I live within an hour’s drive of the photo bookstore Photo-Eye in Santa Fe. It is a treat to be able to peruse their excellent collection of books. They have an outstanding selection, with many rare, out-of-print volumes on the shelves, next to the latest releases. There are a number of photo books I’ve had on my “wishlist” and of course, Photo-Eye had one that I would end up taking home with me.
I was glad to find a copy of the latest release by German printer-extraordinaire Steidl, the monograph entitled “Sunshine Hotel” by photographer, Mitch Epstein. As is the case with almost all of the books printed by Gerhardt Steidl, this hardcover book is gorgeous. The image quality is first-rate, the binding is stout and immaculate, the cover an intense red and white. One of the benefits of buying from Photo-Eye as opposed to Amazon is that not only can you actually hold the book, skim through the pages and really appreciate the quality, but also they happen to carry signed copies of books. This makes the purchase extra special and obviously, extra-collectable.
For those of you unfamiliar with Mitch Epstein or his work, he is of a generation of American photographers who worked almost exclusively in color, starting in the 1970s. At the time, color photography was not taken seriously in fine art circles, and it was only through the work of Epstein, Stephen Shore, Joel Meyorwitz and of course, William Eggleston, that color photos gained wider critical acceptance. It is somewhat curious that Epstein’s work has not gotten the same kind of attention as that of Eggleston or Shore, in particular. In my opinion, it is as strong and as important as those other lauded photographers. This book might go a long way to move Epstein to the forefront in the minds of the admittedly niche audience that I happen to be part of.
There is something so “American” about this book. Starting with the title, which I interpret as a metaphor for the Unites States itself. A place of escape, a place of hope, a place to aspire to, but also a place of temporality, of false surfaces, of pain, of winning and losing at the game of capitalism, as a place of fear, of hatred, of loneliness and sadness. These photos convey every side of the “American Dream.” The lonely roads that Robert Frank explored 50 years before, now windswept and covered in blowing snow when captured by Epstein. Our great monuments to democracy, now hidden or protected behind anti-terrorism barricades. Decay, debris, remnants of brutal natural disasters, all shown in subtle, tactful framing and realistic tones. The great experiment of the American experience is seen on these pages, in all its glory and folly. Peppered throughout are images that show us not only how we used to live, but also how we live today. The fashion may change, but the looks on the faces remain the same.
The book opens and closes with photographs taken on the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation. I think this is fitting, as all the work in-between was created on land that our forefathers took from the indigenous tribes, through a variety of dubious means. Does this make “Sunshine Hotel” a political book? One may think so. In larger sense, how can any creative statement at this time not bear some subtle political stance to it? At the same time, I think of Epstein as a documentarian, first and foremost. Of course, he is also an artist, one of great depth. His images are made to ponder individually, assessing the lives of those shown, the story behind the places. But also, in a grander way, it is an exploration of what our nation looks like, reflected in the mirror that is Mitch Epstein’s camera. I highly recommend spending time at the Sunshine Hotel, where you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.
2019: 44 (Flaunt The Imperfections: Issue #4)
Very excited to share a sneak peek at my next project. A collaboration with my friend and fellow Latent Image Collective photographer, Francesco di Marco. The next issue of my film-based zine; this time ALL instant photographs. More details and pre-sale information coming soon.
2019: 40 (Books and Zines and Why We Do This)
Self-publishing can mean many different things, especially as it pertains to photography. And if you ask five different people what the difference is between a zine and a book, you’ll likely get five different answers. Digging even deeper, I’ve been wondering lately why I do what I do with my photos… why do I share them on Instagram, why do I show my work on the walls of a gallery, why do I design and print my own photo books and zines? And by extension, why do any of us do this?
This may seem as it’s an existential crisis, and in some ways perhaps it is. It started earlier in the week as I took down the photo exhibit that I recently participated in at the Open Space Gallery. The exhibit was the result of a book project that was a couple of years in the making. The show actually dovetailed nicely with the book project, and was seen as an opportunity to sell some copies of the book (as any hopes of selling the actual photos from the show was a much further possibility… who buys photos anyway?) Long story short, over the five-week run of the show, the gallery sold exactly five copies of the book. Not that I don’t appreciate those five customers… but one would have expected more than five copies being sold. Or at least that’s what I personally expected.
Which leads me to my first issue, admitting that it’s rooted in the disappointment of the number of books sold. The real question is: who is buying photo books these days? It seems there are more and more people self-publishing their own books, which is easy thanks to affordable, on-demand printing. It has opened a door of creativity for me personally, and has brought me some attention and some sales, both of which I am grateful for. But the other side of that coin keeps gnawing at me. So many of us are printing books and zines, and I really wonder who the audience is, and how big this audience is. This is a logistical question as much as it is an existential one. How many copies of a book or zine should I plan on printing? The demand fluctuates, making it hard to rely on past experience. I had one book that sold fifty copies. I had a zine that I struggled to move ten copies of. And ultimately, WHY am I designing and producing actual hard copies of my work? The answer is: I love the process of laying out a book, I love to edit and sequence my work, and I genuinely love holding the finished product in my hands.
But I must admit, I also want other people to like my work enough to actually buy a copy of my book or zine, too. And that’s where things get complicated. Because the reality is… most people don’t care about you or your work, and certainly feel no need or desire to make a purchase. Which again makes me super appreciative of the people who’ve actually dropped their hard earned money into my pocket to support my art by making a purchase. But at the end of the day, I’m talking about maybe 10, maybe 15, maybe 20 people at most. Why should this matter? Why shouldn’t this matter? I can’t imagine giving up on this outlet for my work. I am not at the point of ending my self-publishing efforts. But why print more than one, personal copy of my next zine? It certainly isn’t a money making pursuit; in most cases, it ends up being the opposite.
This was all swimming in my brain as I attended the ABQ Zinefest today. Perhaps not the best frame of mind to go into the event with, but I’m a dark motherf*cker sometimes, so I just go with what’s in my head…otherwise I’d probably not leave the house. The Zinefest was much bigger this year than the last time I attended, two years ago. It felt inclusive, and the DIY sprit was in full effect. I am 100% supportive of this kind of event, and the platform it provides for a wide range of voices and perspectives. I did feel somewhat of an outsider as I strolled the aisles, but that’s all my own hang up, not from anyone at the fest. I saw some mediocre work, but I also saw truly beautiful work, and made a few purchases of a couple of things I was really impressed by. The techniques on display ran the gamut: from simple folded pieces, to uniquely printed and bound zines, with a variety of binding methods utilized. It made me think more about how I print and bind my own work, and gave me ideas for trying something different next time I decide to print my work.
Because I have to think about every single fucking thing from multiple sides, I had some critical thoughts about the things I saw at the show. For example, I realize that zine making is a mode of self-expression that has a very low barrier for entry. You could literally fold a single sheet of paper a few times and make a zine out of it. Or you could run off a bunch of sheets at Kinko’s and staple them together. or bind with a rubber band. Or you could silkscreen pages, trim and hand bind them. or you could output your swanky, self-designed book to an online printer and in a couple of weeks, have a 48 page, perfect bound photo book in your hands. In any of these scenarios, you have expressed yourself. You have brought something personal into the world. You may have even shared it with someone.. a friend…or a stranger… or maybe even a paying customer. But then again, I ask WHY are any of us doing this? Are we our own audience? Do we need to sell something in order to validate our work? Why sell at all? Why not trade with people doing what we are doing? Why does this matter? Isn’t it great that people struggling to find their own voice and perspective have an outlet with their reach?
The other thing I thought about was whether or not the Zinefest would have been an appropriate place for me to show my self-published books. I think I saw two booths that had any photo specific publications at them. One was a slick series that I had already heard of, and these most resembled my own books. To be honest, these two examples stuck out (to my eyes) like sore thumbs. Most of the things on display and for sale had a very low tech, rough hewn look and feel. And considering the DIY roots of zine making, this makes sense. But it also made me realize that that’s not the kind of work I want to be making. It is no disrespect to those creators who take that approach, but I have higher expectations for my books and zines. In fact, I am less inclined to even apply the term “zine” to my publications from now on.
I’ll certainly be pondering all of this as I decide what my next project will be. Who knows, maybe it will be one copy for my own bookshelf this time around. If you have thoughts to share with me on any of this, I’d love to hear from you.
Photo by Josef Koudelka / Magnum Photos
2019: 33 (Josef Koudelka: Wall)
This year I have been making a concerted effort to expand my photo book library by purchasing at least one publication per month. Thanks to a great sale at Aperture, I recently received “Wall” by Josef Koudelka. This mammoth book is a powerful commentary on human intolerance, lack of compassion and our misguided need to separate ourselves from others.
What first struck me about the book is its physical size, and the huge typographical “WALL” on the front cover. Upon opening the book, it is easy to see why it was printed in such a manner. Koudelka’s photographs are all panoramic, and the book format is an appropriate size to let the images come to life as full double page spreads. This choice of format matches the subject matter spot on. Koudelka’s images were created in the Holy Land, and all focus on the barrier between Israeli and Palestinian territories. Most of the barrier is an impenetrable cement wall, but there are also scenes of barbed wire, observation towers and security checkpoints. And although there are images of physical barriers, we also see scenes that depict a vast psychological barrier between two lands, two peoples. This is all complicated, and any discussion is sure to take an emotionally charged turn, but as an artist, Koudelka brings us to a place that we can ponder and explore our own feelings of this place, and perhaps draw our own conclusions.
One thing that struck me quite quickly when I was flipping through the book was that lack of actual people in the photographs. With so many manmade structures… the walls, the wire, the barriers, roadblocks, the graffiti, the fencing, the abandoned dwellings… there is a huge void of actual humanity in these images. And it is that statement right there that finally sunk in. These are stark images of human division; of course we see very few actual humans in the pictures.
Another powerful component to the photographs is the depiction of nature. In many images, we see olive trees that have been destroyed, or moved, replanted… or simply abandoned in the no man’s land surrounding the walls. The abuse of the olive tree, so critical to the subsistence of human life (and commerce) in this region, is emblematic of the abuse and inhumanity we can inflict on each other. There are also numerous images that peer beyond the wall, or to the edges of human settlements, where the hills and the desert reinforce their presence, showing perhaps that even as we construct out barriers, nature will have the final say.
Photo by Josef Koudelka / Magnum Photos
While spending time with “Wall” I could not ignore the obvious connections with a wall so much closer to home. I live in New Mexico, and along our southern border there is the much discussed, much debated, highly polarizing border wall between the US and Mexico. I will set aside any overtly political discussion (i have my opinions, you have yours) but I must acknowledge the sobering thoughts this connection provokes in me. While the images in Koudelka’s book may be depressing to view, I have the luxury of distance from this reality. These photos were taken half a world way from me, in a place I have never been, and my opinion has been shaped by years of news accounts that can feed misperception or bias. Yet, a few hours south of where I sit right now, a similar barrier exists. A wall that separates human beings both physically and metaphorically. Why are we so good at building things that keep us apart, yet so poor at building understanding and empathy?
Lannan Foundation in Santa Fe, New Mexico. June 2018
Thoughts on "Teju Cole: Blind Spot"
Why do we take photographs? What is it that first draws our eyes and then creates the impulse to capture the image with a camera? At that exact moment, what does the camera see that our eyes do not? And afterwards, when we look at the resulting image, what do we see then? What evidence emerges from the photograph that wasn't there before? What stories do our photographs have embedded within? What thoughts are jarred loose from our subconscious mind when we gaze at the image we created? What latent meaning is there now that wasn't evident previously?
These questions, and many more, swirled around in my head as I viewed to exhibit "Teju Cole: Blind Spot" at the Lannan Foundation in Santa Fe. On display was a selection of photographs and text, pulled from a much larger body of work that was published as a hardcover book last year. The strength of this work lies in the equal footing that both the photographs and the accompanying text maintain. Often times, text can seem at odds with the images in an exhibit, especially when the texts are on small placards near the bottom of the frame, or if the statements are plastered on the wall near the entrance of the gallery. The work here has the texts sharing the frame with the photos. This approach mimics the book, allowing the viewer to consider the image and the author's thoughts in a more immediate manner.
The words provoke the viewer to go deeper into the individual images. Some of the photographs may seem mundane at first glance. The focal point not always apparent. The question of "why did he take this photo?" is often puzzling and unclear until one reads the text. Then, whole new avenues of understanding open up. Sometimes the texts themselves are only tangentially related to what we are seeing in the photos. In these moments, it seems the photos become more of an accompaniment to the words, and not vice versa.
The photos, taken in many different locations around the world, have a casualness to them that sometimes speaks to what William Eggleston referred to as the "democratic" quality of photography. Meaning a "democracy of vision, through which he represents the most mundane subjects with the same complexity and significance as the most elevated."
“If we are sighted, we tend not to notice the differentiated acts of looking and seeing. The given is that looking and seeing are central, but distinct to the process of picture-making.”
If you are anywhere near Santa Fe, NM, I highly recommend seeing this show, which closes on Sunday July 1. And whether or not you can attend, I would also recommend buying a copy of the book "Blind Spot." It rewards the viewer / reader with an abundance of deep insight and inspiration.