You can travel the world, wander unknown streets, searching for the exotic, or, you can stay in your own home and let the light guide you to something just as intriguing.
Faith and Devotion 'zine
2017 has been a very productive year for me, creatively speaking. One of the areas I've been focussing has been self-publishing. With the availability and affordability of print-on-demand services like Magcloud and Blurb, anyone (yes...even you!) can easily publish their own book or magazine. The project I'm discussing here is a series of photos I created in 2015, while on a residency in Portugal. The town of Fatima is a well-known Catholic pilgrimage site. It is also a location rife with photo opportunities. I was happy to have spent a few days shooting there, and the series of images have finally ended up in printed form. I worked on the images and sequencing much longer than on any other recent project, and I am very satisfied with the final result. As I have been very fortunate with the support I've already received for my self-publications, I have been marketing the Fatima 'zines in a much more subdued manner. However, if you would like to order one, I do have a handful of copies available in my online shop. And since I realize many folks would like to see some samples of the zine before considering a purchase, I'm sharing some spreads below. As 2017 draws to a close, I am glad to be able to put this project out into the world, since I have several new projects already brewing for 2018.
City of Ghosts & Dreams
I am excited to share a new body of work on my website today. The series is a bit of a departure for me, in that it is all color photography. The pairing of the images are the result of a kind of visual improvisation, both in my approach to how I shot, as well as how I created the resulting diptychs. Everything was shot with one camera and one lens, during an extended stay in New York during the Spring of 2017. The shift of political and social winds could be felt as I roamed the streets, though I tried (but failed) to not make any overt political statements with the images. I guess the personal is political, as they say. This series will be the subject of a new book I will be releasing in the very near future. I hope you enjoy.
Along the Rio Grande
A River Runs Through It
Those of us who live in New Mexico know the importance of the Rio Grande. One of its values is the wonderful, (mostly) undeveloped nature of the bosque that adorns its banks. The bosque offers a respite from the urban life of Albuquerque, and yet exists within minutes of the city itself. It's a thicket of salt cedar, fallen branches, various flowers and grasses, jetty jacks and the abundant cottonwood trees, which at this time of year, explode into yellow and gold. Today was a perfect, overcast day, so the wife and I headed out for a quick wander. Except for temporarily straying into an extremely muddy patch (as is evident in the photo of my destroyed Chuck Taylors) the day rewarded us with many sights and sounds. Of course, I decided to capture the glorious colors of autumn in black and white.
"Self and Shadow" near Cabezon Peak, New Mexico
Quo vadimus
I had the pleasure of taking a day-long road trip with my good friend Bob Ayre this past weekend. Bob knows New Mexico like the back of his hand, so it was a treat to let him guide me into uncharted territory in the northwest part of the state. My Fiat would never have survived some of the unpaved back roads we traversed, and I probably would have chickened out heading down some of the routes by myself. With Bob at the helm, I saw some difficult to reach locations for the first time. Here's a sample of our journey. Thank you, Bob.
Print is (not) Dead. Long Live Print.
"Hi, my name is Nick, and I'm a printaholic..."
Yes, it's true, I am addicted to print. Specifically, printed photographs, whether it's in a frame on the wall, received as a postcard in the mail, in a book or in a zine... I love it all. And lately, as many of you know, I've been bitten by the self-publishing bug. With online, print on demand options like Magcloud or Blurb, a self-published book or zine is just a few clicks away. I find that the format is a perfect way to get my work out in the world, in a real, tangible way. Photographs were always meant to be seen in print. It's only recently, with our digital existence taking over every aspect of previously actual, physical content, that photos are mostly seen on a screen; be it desktop or mobile. Hey, I'm no Luddite. I often shoot with a DSLR or my iPhone, listen to Spotify all day long, stare at Instagram and Facebook far too much, and share work right here on my website on a regular basis. But something gets lost when we just see photos on a backlit screen. Photographs deserve more permanence. I realize that most folks can't afford dropping $50 to $150(or more) for a framed photograph, but a $10 - 15 zine or book is well within reach for a much larger audience. And of course the benefits of a printed publication allows the viewer to engage with your work many more times than a gallery show would ever provide. I am grateful for the support I've gotten from many friends and followers for my own self-published works, and (teaser alert, see above) there are more printed pieces to come in the near future. In the meantime, I'd also like to take a moment to recognize the work of some print obsessed self-publishers I've been following and collecting myself. Their work is well-worth the time and money to support.
Gratitude: God Is In The Details
Many thanks to everyone who came by for my pop-up photo exhibit this weekend, and to those who purchased my zine or a framed print. I am grateful and humbled by your support and interest in my work. Extra special gratitude to Rocky Norton, a true artist and creative force of nature, for opening his studio space to me. While I had some time gallery-sitting, I was able to explore a bit of Rocky's world. They say God is in the details, and if so, he / she wears a coat of many colors.
Covered Cars Exhibit and Zine Sale This Weekend
If you are in the Albuquerque area this weekend, I cordially invite you to see my series "Covered Cars" which will be exhibited at Rocky Norton's Artspace, at 1407 4th Street SW. This is a three day only, pop up event. I will have thirty framed photos on display, available for purchase at a special price of $50 each. I will also be selling a limited edition, signed zine of the series, for the price of $5 each. Hours for the event will be Friday evening, from 6 pm to 9pm, and both Saturday and Sunday afternoons from 12 Noon until 4pm. I am grateful to Rocky for opening up his studio space for this event. I hope to see you there.
“In a culture that was built upon and continues to idealize the automobile, I am drawn to these vehicles that are, for one reason or another, shrouded. To me, they convey a combined feeling of holiness, of sadness, and of secrets and stories kept hidden.”
Photograph © 1958 by Robert Frank
Worth A Thousand Words: Robert Frank
Up to this point, I’ve been hesitant to write any words about Robert Frank, for a number of reasons. Most of them are rooted in my deep love of his work and the profound influence he has had on my own image making. How do I pay due respect to an artist so important to me? Can I be objective when writing about a particular image of his? Another challenge would be deciding which of his images would I focus my attention on? There are just too many touchstone Robert Frank photographs to choose from. Nonetheless, with a looming exhibit of my own, it made sense to try to write about this week’s image “Covered Car, Long Beach, California.”
So, what do we see in this photograph? It is a car, covered in some kind of white fabric. The car is parked between two thick palm trees. Shadows from the trees are cast upon a plain looking, boxy building, the wall of which look covered in a dark stucco. The light seems like late afternoon to me. The composition is slightly off kilter, just slightly tilting to the right. The fabric that covers the car has an almost striped appearance to it, the result of bands that are stitched together. The contrast is somewhat stark, with the white of the cover offset by the deep shadows on the wall, and the tufts of palm leaves on the trees. All in all, a fairly non-complex photograph at first glance.
What is not seen in the photo? Well, this is an urban environment, but there are no people seen in the shot. And we of course assume there is a car under the tarp, being able to recognize the shape of the chassis, and the distinct poke of an antenna pushing up the covering as well. The next question I ask myself is why did Frank take this photo? It appears in his seminal book “The Americans” which creates a context for a deeper interpretation of the image. Frank explored the subject matter of the automobile extensively throughout the book. When Frank was shooting the photographs that eventually became "The Americans," the automobile was seen as a key component to the post-WW2 westward expansion in the United States, and was a symbol of freedom and mobility for a growing middle-class society. The fact that the car is covered brings what seems to me an elegiac quality; quite a mournful feeling to this image. Coupled with the fact that the lighting indicates late in the day, nearing sunset, I get a distinct feeling that there is an intrinsic sadness to this image. The car becomes a body covered, something to be mourned, hidden, and prepared for some kind of death. Of course, this is my personal projection on to the image, but if an astute viewer were to look at the photo in the context of where it appears in “The Americans” one would make a similar leap.
The image appears in a sequence of the book that begins with a close up, side view of two men in the front seat of a car, “US 91, leaving Blackfoot, Idaho.” Here we see the car as a means of escape, with Frank a passenger in a very tight front seat with two mean who look as though the are fleeing a crime scene. Next is an image of five elderly people sitting on a roadside bench, titled “St. Petersburg, Florida.” In the background, we see a car speeding by, slightly blurred. Is this a rumination on death, the life that is soon to be leaving these people speeding behind them as they wait for the inevitable? The “covered car” photo is the next image in the sequence. The photo that then immediately follows shows the aftermath of a car accident, with a group of four people standing beside the blanket covered remains of what is surely a dead body. The covered body echoing the covered par in the previous image. To complete this run of images, we see a long view of a lonely highway in New Mexico, stretching off into the far distance, with just a lone car driving towards us, seen very far off in a dark, foreboding environment, under a threatening sky. Seen as a whole, this sequence of images tells a sad story of life and death intertwined with the presence or influence of the automobile.
Photograph © 1958 by Robert Frank
My own fascination with covered cars stems directly from the image made by Robert Frank. My approach to the subject matter is quite different. For one, I chose to show the cars in color. I have taken a clinical, studied approach to the subject matter, and have assembled well over fifty of such images, to date. I am fascinated when I look at them as a group of photos, when the variety of covers and locations become a foil to the consistency of the subjects. Yet, there is still that initial feeling of sadness that permeates the images I make. These vehicles are covered for reasons I don’t ever really know. Are they classic cars that require protection from the elements? Are the windows busted and leaking, requiring covering to protect the interior? Is the vehicle evidence of some crime? Has an accident occurred? They often look like Christ-like bodies, covered in shrouds. Or perhaps they represent something desirable yet hidden from view, their covering providing a layer of mystery and intrigue.
It is amazing to me that so many of these covered cars reveal themselves to me as I travel my home city, but also in locations that I travel to. They seem to be everywhere once I start looking for them. They serve as a constant reminder of the influence that Robert Frank has had on my work, and send a silent message of kinship and solidarity to me as I pursue my work. As the master has said, “The eye should learn to listen before it looks.” I am constantly listening and looking, too.
Addendum: I recently recorded a podcast about Robert Frank. Give it a listen!
Beyond Words, Beyond Expectations
Sometimes it takes a while to realize that you have made a good choice in your life's direction. Over two years ago, I decided to take my personal photography more seriously. One thing that I always dreamed of doing, but never had the guts to attempt, was an artist residency. So, in early 2015, I mustered the courage to apply for an opportunity to spend a month in the city of Porto, Portugal. My focus on Portugal was partly due to my connection with fellow photographer, Fabio Miguel Roque. He is based in Sintra, just outside of the capital of Lisbon. We are both members of the Latent Image Collective, and though we had never met in person, I was excited to finally connect and spend some time shooting together. Long story short, I was invited for a residency at De Liceiras 18, and spent a month focussing on my personal photographic work. I also spent two days shooting with Fábio, and our creative bonds deepened as a result.
Fast forward to October 2016. Fábio and I were looking for a project to collaborate on long-distance. We devised a plan to shoot simultaneously for 24 hours, each of us taking a solo, photographic road trip, each wandering without a set plan into the desert near our homes. We would share the results of the trip in a joint publication. We released the book "Beyond / Além" last year, and hoped that we could one day exhibit the work. That hope will be realized this weekend in Évora, Portugal.
I am so thrilled to be able to share the walls of a gallery with my friend and collaborator, and it stands as a tangible manifestation of the idea we had months ago. What is even more meaningful to me is that first step I took outside of my comfort zone, the decision to travel to Portugal in the first place, has reaped so many benefits for me personally and creatively.
The show opens this Saturday at the Palácio de D. Manuel in Évora. I received the text from the program, that was written by Eduardo Luciano, Councilor for Culture of the Municipality of Évora. I'd like to share it here, as it is an insightful analysis of the work that Fábio and I created. I am honored and humbled by these words.
“Only art could unite two realities that are two thousand kilometers away, and yet they feel so close. From these images we can perceive that the ocean that separates is, above all, the ocean that also unites us, just as the bridge that we share may be the element we need to overcome and to reach the other. The aridity, the loneliness, the paths that the work of these two photographers explore, seem to go nowhere. Yet, there have the common features: the existence of humans, both in the American desert and in the Alentejo. We look at the two realities from a point so far and yet so close, via the sensitivity of these two artists.
This exhibition is a challenge of reading reality, above prejudices and against prejudices. In a world where the unknown is the engine of our fear and in which there is a growing temptation to mortgage freedom on behalf of a false security, Fábio Miguel Roque and Nick Tauro Jr. show us, in an impressive way, the deep similarities that bind us.
The Municipality of Évora could not fail to accept and promote this universalist approach to space, as it explores the aesthetic convergence of two naturally divergent environments. It is our duty, as a public service, to promote unrest, stave off the doldrums, question certainties, and discuss the unknown. Without fear and knowing that the “invisible city”, that Italo Calvino brilliantly put into the words of Marco Polo, it will be whenever our imagination allows.
Welcome to the journey, welcome to the paths that lead us to the “other” landscape. So that the difficulty of finding it is not as difficult as José Samarago enunciated in his speech before accepting the Nobel Prize, “one arrives more easily at Mars than at our own fellow human.” Perhaps art is the map that enables the trip to the universe of the other, and is more pleasant and shorter than the hypothetical arrival to Mars.”
Click on the images above to see the program from the exhibit.