SOOMIN HAM: Interpretations Of Grief And Loss

 
In SOUND OF BUTTERFLY, MEG member Soomin Ham’s current show, Soomin takes an experimental, yet personal, approach to seeing, understanding and interpreting memories of grief and loss. The series of portraits reflect her mother’s journey through life and death, and reveal traces of this journey as Soomin’s memories and vision uncover a deeper narrative beyond the images presented.

Below, Soomin answers a few questions about her new work:

Your new work has its origins in grief. Tell us about it. On a quiet night one August, I lost someone I loved very much. With my grief, I started collecting the scattered memories that I shared with her. Finding them from family photo albums and in the belongings she left behind was painful, but I found myself feeling even more appreciation for her love, passion, dreams, and other things that she shared with me. She was my loving mother who dedicated her life to her family. 

Why do you reference butterflies in your show title? Butterflies were one of my mother’s favorite things, and they also symbolize a new journey for me. Throughout the whole process of putting together this body of work, I was able to understand and embrace my grief by following the path of my mother’s journey.

Your work involved a freezer, which is unusual in photography. How did a common kitchen appliance become part of the show? The show is made up of two series. The

(c) Soomin Ham

FROZEN MOMENT series incorporated images of many special belongings my mother left behind as well as photographs I took of moments that reflect a place and time of my mother’s presence. I placed all of these images in a 4”x4” box in a freezer and then re-photographed each image in a lightbox. The series documents and preserves moments and objects that would have perished, or like memory, would have decayed and faded.  

The second series is called BACK TO HEAVEN. What can you tell us about it? This series presents the soft, blurry images of old photographs of my mother. Selected from family albums, the pictures are scanned and printed on rice paper.  The rice-paper prints are stored in water for a period, then washed and dried repeatedly until the images grow dim.  I then placed these prints outside during snowfall, and re-photographed them just as they began to disappear under the fallen snow. The whole process of aging the picture is my interpretation of the cycle of life and fading memory.

(c) Soomin Ham

Soomin Ham: Seeing Beyond External Form and Beauty

Soomin Ham's newest work, SOUND OF BUTTERFLY, is on exhibit at Multiple Exposures Gallery through May 11th. Below she shares some thoughts on finding inspiration in

sacred spaces. 
 
Since the time photography became one of my creative media, I have come to recognize three special places that inspire me to reflect on art and meaning in my life.  I would like to share what I have experienced these places, working to capture my thoughts and emotions in my photographs. 

When I was a child, I would imagine ghosts in cemeteries and was scared to go there. As I grew older, and as loved ones passed away, the cemetery became a sanctuary, a private place of peace and personal connection.  When I was sad or feeling lost, I would drive two hours to the Memorial Park in Seoul, Korea, where my grandmother's grave is.  Often I would stay there -- close to what is now also my mother's final resting place -- finding comfort and a place of contemplation. Since moving to the United States, I continue to visit cemeteries, walking the quiet paths, reading the stones, curious about the lives of the departed... and finding the same comfort as I had in my own country.

The desert is a second special place of inspiration. A trip to India in 1992 was my first experience seeing the beauty of the desert. I was speechless at the threshold of this endless space. I was so excited to take a photograph at the beginning, but eventually, I put my camera down, as I wanted to feel the desert's spirit and its silent echo.

The Royal Palaces of Seoul are another favorite place for my inspiration. In my childhood, visiting the Royal Palaces with my family offered me a place of wonder. As time passed, these palaces have become places of harmony, spirituality, and nostalgia.  Now too many tourists have come and broken the silence of the past, but I still sense the traces of time and find memories of times shared with my loved ones.

For me, these places of inspiration transcend time and space. Beyond appearances, they leave behind their questions of eternity.  For my art life, I choose to develop ideas based on the inspirations that I find in these spiritual places, rather than trying to capture their external form and beauty.  They are my private sanctuaries, and I will return to them again and again along the path of my photographic journey.

 

Living Yesterday Today

Boy Soldier     (c) Sandy LeBrun-Evans

MEG member Sandy LeBrun-Evans is building LIVING YESTERDAY TODAY, a new portfolio filled with images of Civil War re-enactors. Below she shares why finds re-enactors and the battles they fight to be such interesting subjects.

I became hooked on photographing civil war re-enactors completely by accident. Driving home one evening, I noticed a sign on Interstate 95 that indicated a re-enactment would take place the next day. I thought, “Why not check it out!"

Readying For Battle    (c) Sandy LeBrun-Evans

I was amazed and hooked from my very first visit. Re-enactments include both battles and the re-enactors living, eating, playing as they did during the Civil War period. As I wandered around the camps of the Northern and Southern armies, everywhere I turned there was a vignette of the past.

In 2013, the 150th anniversary of some very important battles was commemorated, and a number of battles were re-created, including Antietam/Sharpsburg (the name of battle depended on which side of the war you were on ), Chancellorsville, Fredericksburg and Gettysburg. Each re-enactment provides both a field full of action and a history lesson. 

War Widow          (c) Sandy LeBrun-Evans

Interestingly, during many of the battles, just as they did 150 years ago, ladies sit uphill, taking in the scene while garbed in period dress -- all the way down to their underwear!  The attention to detail is incredible in everything the soldiers, women and children wear and do. 
What draws my attention and my camera the most are the early mornings when everyone is preparing for what's to come and the evenings after the battle. Throughout the camps, they cook, camp, drill and play as if they are truly LIVING YESTERDAY TODAY.

I am just starting to work with my images. The most difficult part of the process is trying to make my images look as if they were taken 150 years ago, especially since I am presenting them in color. One solution has been to mute the color and add textures.

At every battle I witness, I learn something new, meet wonderful people and see photographs everywhere I turn. I look forward to adding to this portfolio and sharing my work with others. 

The View From The Street: Q&A With Fred Zafran

Fred Zafran’s new show, 7th and H Streets, NW, at Multiple Exposures Gallery, is an exploration of the historic Old Downtown neighborhood in Washington, DC.  More than a simple depiction of the character of the neighborhood, the images form a psychological landscape that communicates the spirit and presence of place.  Fred offers insights into the joys of street photography and how they led him to this exceptional new portfolio.
 
Congratulations on the opening of your new exhibition.  Would you tell us a little about your photography and way of working? I am principally an urban photographer and most of my work takes place “on the street.”  My way of working is to set out with very little equipment… usually just a single camera and lens.  I wander the streets observing, listening, trying simply to be present.  I find joy in exploring without plan or preconception, remaining open to the unanticipated “stories” that the day may offer.

I’m also looking for things — settings, circumstances, people — that typically wouldn’t be found together, but when connected (framed), create a new and stronger narrative.  Joel Meyerowitz, a well-known street photographer, has described it as “photographing the relationship between things.”

Do you choose specific locations to shoot or do you wander until you see something intriguing? Both really. I remain open to the possible, but at the same time, I’m drawn to settings with extraordinary light. I am always looking for illumination that “textures the darkness” because it is here that light itself imparts its strongest meaning. If I find a spot with extraordinary light, I will explore this location until I find the right vantage.  Then I might stop and wait (…and wait some more) until an idea or opportunity presents itself.  I could be at a single location observing and waiting for quite some time before I begin to press the shutter. 

Would you share more about your new project and portfolio of work? For a year, I returned repeatedly to the neighborhood surrounding 7th and H Streets, NW, in Washington, DC.  This is the historic "Old Downtown" DC and the corner of 7th and H Streets may be considered its "epicenter."  The neighborhood is defined by the intersection of three distinct subcultures – a popular DC entertainment quarter, a Chinatown fading in decline, and a shadow world of those struggling and living too close to the street.

There was something about this neighborhood that kept bringing me back, to wander the streets, to explore, with the intent to document what I saw.

The images in your portfolio feature people from a number of different vantage points – at street level, from outside on the street looking in, from close and from farther away. Does vantage affect “comfort level” and does this change based upon proximity? In some cases, I’m very close to the people within the frame I’m capturing. Often I will have to react quickly to capture the image envisioned.  If I have the time and opportunity, I like to engage, say hello, share a bit about what I am doing… and ask if it would be OK to make a photo.

When I shoot from the outside in, I sometimes go to the window, raise my camera and with a gesture, silently ask permission.  Often the person will nod and smile and indicate they are OK with the situation. When you get close to people in street photography, you just have to work through any potential discomfort that arises. Connecting with people is part of the magic of street photography.

What do you want people to take away from your images? If my images are successful, the viewer will want to come back to look again. Alex Webb, a Magnum photographer and another well-known street photographer, describes less successful photos as “one-note” images – mildly interesting, but you look once and don’t care to come back again. Successful images ask questions, communicate emotionally on multiple levels, and don’t readily yield up their answers.

What advice do you have for individuals interested in exploring street photography or improving their street photography? It is helpful to look at the images of master photographers whose work was largely accomplished on the street. Examples include Andre Kertez, Henri Cartier-Bresson. Ray Metzker, Josef Koudelka, Fan Ho, Saul Leiter, Sam Abell, Alex Webb, Joel Meyerowitz, Helen Levitt, Daido Moriyama, and Vivian Maier.

However, the most important advice is really to pick up your camera, head out and make photos… and then go out and do it some more.  When shooting on the street, go without plan or preconception.  Simply wander, be aware, and remain open to the possible.  I would also follow Sam Abell’s sage advice to “look for the setting first.” Let the light lead you to the right circumstances, compose, wait, and often the subject will find you.

The opening reception for Fred Zafran’s new show, 7th and H Streets, NW, will be held Sunday, March 2, 2014, from 2pm-4pm, at Multiple Exposures Gallery at the Torpedo Factory Art Center in Alexandria, Virginia.

The Vicissitudes of a Project

      (c) E.E. McCollum

MEG member E.E. McCollum describes the evolution of a photographic series.

For the past 3 years, I've been working on a project I call the Cocoon Series.  The project started quite by accident when a model I was working with - Katlyn - showed me a tube of stretchy nylon material, six feet or so in length and sewn closed on one end.

"I think you'll like this," she said, and wriggled into it.

Suddenly, the figure I saw in front of me was transformed.  The fabric stretched around Katlyn in such a way that the space of the body was made manifest and Katlyn's creative poses took on a sculptural quality.  I was hooked.  Ways to make images of the body in the cocoon kept coming to me long after that first session.
 

     (c) E.E. McCollum

As I explored photographing the whole figure, I began to wonder what it would be like to have two models in one cocoon.  Two adventurous models agreed to try.  The two figures together suggested relationship and contact as the figures wove together.  I also began to explore moving closer to the models and not including the entire figure.  My creative model/partners began to play with the concept of the two together producing images that are by turns beautiful, and odd and unsettling.  We struggle to orient ourselves as we look at them.

We also used fish line to pull the nylon up toward the ceiling, manipulating the space that the cocoon defines.  It seemed to work best when it followed the contours of the body.  Again, the models responded with such creativity to this new approach and, together with one, we created what has become the iconic image of the series.

         (c) E.E. McCollum

With another model, I shot with a harsher light directed from a different angle.  The result was a more graphic sense of the body and some mystery as the body disappeared into the shadows.   The project went on and on.  We stained the fabric with facial mud and body paint to accentuate texture.  We tore it provide a sense of emergence.  I shot a male model and a male/female couple.  Each time I think it might be done, a new idea comes to me. 
 

      (c) E.E. McCollum

This is the first sustained artistic project I've done and I've been reflecting on what I've learned from it.  First, I think a sustainable project needs to be based on something more than just an idea.  I took a class once and a fellow photographer showed her project for critique. She had decided to do a sustained piece of work and cast around for an idea or theme, she said. What she showed, at least in my view, was somewhat lackluster, although the idea itself was intriguing.  I think it's because one can't set out to do a project. The project has to capture you. The cocoon came along unexpectedly and captured me emotionally right from the start and that seemed to enliven the work.  There must be something emotional in the mix if you are to live with a body of work as long as a project demands.

Secondly, I learned that things change.  The cocoon series started as individual images.  Early on, each image with interesting solely in its own right. The more it continued, however, the more I saw the images relating to one another with prior images providing context for the later ones.  It took time for it to became a project, in other words.  It developed organically.  I also have to remember that the earlier images are very familiar to me and have lost a little of their freshness because I have seen and worked with them so much.  But that isn't true of most viewers.  As I make a selection of the project for a publication or show, I try to include images from throughout the series.  The recent ones are of more interest to me because they represent my growing edge.  But you have to have faith in the strength of the work throughout.

Finally, I think you have to have the dedication to follow the project to its end while recognizing that it's hard to know when to stop.  So far, every time I think I've gotten to the end of the Cocoon Series, something new has occurred to me.  I don't know how long it will continue, or if the work will grow stale after a while.  Nevertheless, I remain committed to following it to wherever it needs to go.

============
Images from The Cocoon Series will be on display at the Art League Gallery in the Torpedo Factory from March 13th through April 7th, 2014. Selections from the series can also be seen daily at Multiple Exposures Gallery in Studio 312 at the Torpedo Factory.

E. E. McCollum can be reached at info@eemccollum.com

Refresh

MEG member Danny Conant shares some suggestions for getting out of a photographic rut. 

Most of us have had the feeling at times of being stuck or stale in our photographic life. It’s no fun working on something that doesn’t inspire you or hammering away at a piece that you secretly know you are never going to like.  So we need to refresh and get out of that unproductive rut.

Over the years I have found some things that have given me a jump-start to pulling out of the rut. If you are feeling uninspired, make time to visit a gallery or museum or studio of an artist.  I say make time, not take time, because you will say, “I don’t have time.”  I don’t have it either, so I have to make it by perhaps giving up something else.  

Sometimes it’s better to see a painting exhibit than one of photography.  You may come away with some new thoughts after seeing what is driving that particular painter or sculptor or printmaker.

Other suggestions are to do something different even if it is a little uncomfortable and/or take a class to learn something new or challenging. Recently, I took a writing workshop in Tuscany, even though I know nothing about real writing. The first day I struggled along as I wrote the assignment. While that alone wasn’t comfortable, an even more terrifying part came when I had to read what I had written to all of the other accomplished writers. The good news? The earth didn’t open up and swallow me and everyone was too polite to ask why was I in that class. 

At the end of the day, I was fine with the whole process. After five days of work, I came away with a new feeling for words. And while I still love my visuals, one day I’m going to put them both together. 

Another favorite inspirational help is belonging to a couple of small low-key groups of like-minded photographers who get together a few times a year to share ideas and work.

Finally, when an image is just not responding to me after a reasonable amount of time, I simply let it go.  There will be other images.  

Overall, I think my main tool for getting out of a rut is my lack of fear of failure.  If I am afraid of failing, I won’t try anything new or push my boundaries at all.

Danny's work can be seen daily at Multiple Exposures Gallery in the Torpedo Factory Art Center in Alexandria, VA. 

No Image Stands Alone

Multiple Exposures Gallery's newly-minted president, Fred Zafran, explains the meaning behind a message.

Some time back, as I was traveling the unmarked road that is photography’s exquisitely winding journey, I came across a cryptic sign.  It read:

“No image stands alone.”

At first uncertain, the meaning (and wisdom) of the message gradually became clear.

As our technique and craft evolve along with the opening of artistic sensibility, we find on

(c) Fred Zafran

occasion that our captured images seem, well… expressive, and perhaps even compelling.  Maybe others seeing our work have said so too.  Now energized, we are driven to create more compelling images, to be open and receptive to finding more.

But… as the desire (the need?) arises to communicate an inner intent and deeper narrative through our work, we find that this is no longer possible with a single image (or a series of disconnected images).  So, it is within the context of the photographic essay (or project) that this communication becomes possible, and an imperative.

Charles Harbutt (Magnum photographer) offers a definition of a photographic essay as a

(c) Fred Zafran

“multi-level picture story that flows primarily from an awareness of the symbolic possibilities of the subject matter.”  He notes that this awareness may come either during the shooting or afterwards… but that there is “more vitality” when it comes later (!)

Working principally as an “urban documentary (street) photographer,” my approach to image making is to head out on the street with camera in hand, and to remain open to the unforeseen.  I have been working on a major project for about 9 months now (I’ll save this for a later Blog post).  But what is of interest, is that during the course of this longer-term project, other small narratives not previously conceived, began making themselves known to me.

Koji Onaka, an accomplished Japanese street photographer (and student of Daido Moriyama) summarizes well this curious process of discovery:   

“There’s not a clear concept before taking my pictures. Photography is procedural and I take photographs of what attracts me, and then later this manifests itself as interests. The subconscious is at play, the work acts as a reminder of what I’m interested in – it’s what

(c) Fred Zafran

caught my eye. There’s not something in particular that is my subject. It becomes a process of self-discovery.”

I will share a recent photographic narrative that appeared as subcontext of my ongoing work, and is becoming a project in itself.  The new project depicts the photographer’s “presence” both conceptually and literally as observer and author of the captured scene – a key compositional and psychological element.  Although still in the early stages of discovery and development (… and uncertain of emerging direction), I have risked sharing a few images in this Blog post.  Maybe this is an examination of the “quantum entanglement” of photographer and the world observed (?)

More to follow…

Thoughts on Style

Should you always remain true to your style? MEG member Eric Johnson shares some thoughts on the topic. 

Several times during a recent group show at Multiple Exposures Gallery, I received a particular comment on one of my images, a desert landscape that I shot in Joshua Tree

Valley Sunrise, Joshua Tree National Park   ©Eric Johnson

National Park.   Viewers who were familiar with my work from previous exhibitions commented that this photo didn’t look like my usual work.  People seemed to like it, but it was so different from the urban landscapes that I am so often attracted to, and also different from the content of the Square Meals show that I had at MEG earlier in the year, that several people felt compelled to comment on it.  I was a bit surprised by this (and pleasantly so), because when I look through my catalog in Lightroom I find plenty of different genres – landscapes, street shots, abstracts – but I have to admit that the work that I most frequently show in galleries and exhibitions does tend to come from a relatively narrow segment of the types of work I produce.

Every photographer should have a style – it is what makes our work distinctive, and it comes from our individual outlook on the world.  It reflects how we see, and it comes from within.

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Bob and Edith’s Diner, Arlington, VA ©Eric Johnson

However, there is some benefit to breaking out of your usual style once in a while and trying some new things.  I recently took classes in portrait photography and studio lighting.  These two areas may not have much direct relevance to the type of photography that I typically do, and I don’t really intend to make a major change in the direction of my photographic career, but I took the classes more as a means of expanding my awareness of other photographic methods and techniques, and to experiment with a different way of using light and seeing its impact on a subject.  I’m sure that these new techniques and approaches will find their way into my photographic style, even though I probably won’t change the subject matter that appeals to me.  But that’s my goal – to keep growing as a photographer while remaining true to my style, but to not get so stuck in one style that I can’t break out of it from time to time.

 

Blackwater Wildlife Refuge: A Favorite Place To Photograph

MEG member Susan Meyers describes a place she returns to time and time again for new photographic images. 

(c) Susan Meyers

We all have our favorite places to photograph.  Some close to home and some more distant.

One of my places is just two hours from home on the Eastern Shore near Cambridge, Maryland. For me, Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge is the perfect place to indulge in two of my favorite pastimes--photography and bird watching. Together but separate.

We usually go several times a year, because Blackwater changes with the seasons. It's the one place you can always be guaranteed to see bald eagles (usually more than one).  On one visit, we actually saw over two dozen in an afternoon.  Also a great many ducks winter there and large flocks of snow geese.  There is nothing quite like a thousand snow geese coming to roost in the late afternoon sunlight, honking away, and circling until one decides to come in for a landing and the rest follow.  The sky looks like it's filled with silvery confetti.

(c) Susan Meyers

It's a wonderful place any time of the year, but I especially like it in late December, or early January, when the sun sets early, and unless we've had a particularly cold spell, there is still a lot of open water.
I've been both a photographer and a birdwatcher since I was in my early 20s, but early on I realized I didn't have the patience to be a nature photographer.  About that time, Elliot Porter published "Birds of North America."  Some of the photos are still breathtaking forty years later. He built scaffolding, lowered the tops of trees, and indulged in other drastic measures to obtain the wonderful photos in this volume.  I lacked the equipment, resources, and perseverance for this kind of photography.  You might find a great blue, or an egret in some of my pictures, but no parents feeding baby cerulean warblers at the nest.  I also have an aversion to heavy camera equipment and huge lenses.  So I leave that type of nature photography to others heartier than me.  If you are one of these people and do get the iconic eagle photo, I'd love to see it.

(c) Susan Meyers

What I do take is trees, flowers, water, reflections, and the color of light.  You can find that in abundance at Blackwater.  Every time is unique and the colors you capture are never the same twice.  Just remember, even if there aren't any clouds, don't pack up and leave as soon as the sun dips below the horizon.  Sometimes that is just the beginning.  Be patient and you may get a light show the likes of which you can't begin to imagine.

HDR - Love It Or Hate It!

"I’m always and forever looking for the image that has spirit! I don’t give a damn how it got made.” — Minor White

Final HDR Image                      (c) Sandy LeBrun-Evans

Most photographers have an immediate reaction to HDR photography: they either love it or hate it. MEG member Sandy LeBrun-Evans falls in the "love" camp and explains more about her technique.

Why does HDR photography appeal to you? HDR is an acronym for High Dynamic Range, which means that images are composited to extend the dynamic range beyond what our cameras currently can capture. While our eyes can adjust to an image and see the dynamic range, our cameras cannot, so when there is a wide range between light and dark, no single exposure in a camera can capture all of the lights and all of the darks in a scene. By working in HDR, I am able to produce images that include the entire range between light and dark.

Bracketed image examples, light to dark

Your HDR images have a very specific look. How did you develop it? I studied HDR for a couple of years before I made an image that worked for me. I took classes from Dan Burkholder and Tony Sweet and I studied Ben Wilmore’s DVDs on the HDR process. Combining what I learned from all three, I then created a “look” and style that I like for my images.

How do you create an HDR image? To capture all of the lights and darks in a scene, I take anywhere from 3 to 12+ exposures of a single scene. If the scene doesn't have an extreme dynamic range, I set my camera on AV and set bracketing on my Nikon D700 to bracket from 3 to 9 shots (whatever it takes to obtain all of the lights and all of the darks) and shoot. If the dynamic range is extreme, I set my camera to the manual mode and manual focus, bracket by shutter speed, and take as many images as I think I'll need. 

 Composite  .tiff file ready for final processing

I am always on a tripod and I turn off VR (Vibration Reduction) on my lens as VR can cause movement during the capture process.  I then blend as many images as required to cover the full dynamic range in Photomatix software and save the processed image as a .tiff file.  Finally, I take the .tiff file into Photoshop (I'm currently working in PS6) and finish the print as I desire for my final print.

Do you always shoot for HDR or do you only do so for specific images? I usually always bracket when shooting just in case I think I might need to process my image as an HDR image.  You can always spot me — or I should say hear me — because I am the one making that annoying CLICK, CLICK, CLICK... as I capture those 3 to 9 images.

In Pursuit Of Beauty

(c) Fred Zafran

What do beauty, art, Alfred Stieglitz, and MEG have to do with each other? Tom Beck, chief curator at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County, and the juror of MEG's current exhibit, explains:

Many think that the beauty of a photograph is a result of having a camera with an exceptionally fine lens or special powers over subject matter.   In his 1923 essay (“How I Came to Photograph Clouds”) Alfred Stieglitz said: “I wanted to photograph clouds to find out what I had learned in 40 years…Through clouds to put down my philosophy of life—to show that my photographs were not due to subject matter—not special trees, or faces, or
interiors, to special privileges—clouds were there for everyone.”  He wanted people to be excited by his creations, not the technique or technology that made them.  The photographs that I judged for the exhibition, indeed call attention to the artfulness of the imagery and not the mechanics, a virtue in our technology dominated era.   

The success of the imagery selected for this exhibition reveals that beauty is necessary to the photographers.  The pursuit of beauty is their way of making images that are true to themselves as artists.  “Beauty is the universal seen,” said Alfred Stieglitz.  He was defining his approach to making, understanding, and appreciating photographs, and, in a sense, setting a standard for making art photography in the future.  The images in this exhibition compare favorably to Stieglitz’s standard.  It has been my pleasure to judge this exhibition and discover the beauty in these photographs.

(c) Five Cherries

An opening reception will be held Thursday, November 14th, from 6pm-8pm, in Studio 312 at the Torpedo Factory Art Center. Exhibit end date: November 24, 2013.

A Movie Is Worth A Thousand Words...DC Fine Art Photography Fair

A friend of MEG captured some footage from our experience at the DC Fine Art Photography Fair earlier this month. It was an excellent event and we look forward to its return next year.

Taking It To The Streets

Karen Keating's latest work, STREET PORTRAITS, features images from two Easters -- one in Sicily and the other in Key West. Below Karen shares some thoughts on why street photography is so compelling and what it takes to practice it well.

(c) Karen Keating

Why is the street such an alluring subject? Most photographers begin their photo interest on the street – practicing camera basics, responding to the scene, and making order out of chaos.  The question is what makes some of us stay on the street – gravitating to the unknown? 

My street shooting is focused primarily on street portraits.  My continuing interest and curiosity is people – their ordinary lives and daily rituals.  I am not interested in staging shots, nor do I want to work in a studio environment.  I want to watch, observe, and spontaneously react to the mixture of light, structure and people as they live their lives. I like to watch, observe, and wait.  I do not hide, or use a long lens, often having a short conversation, some times not.  The street offers abundant opportunities and challenges.  I need to be prepared, to be the perpetual student, and trust that there will be images. I am always richer for the experience of working on the street.

Have portraits always been an interest of yours? My graduate school fine art photo thesis was A Colloquy: Mothers and Daughters, which focused on adolescent daughters and their mothers, middle-age daughters with their elderly mothers, and three generations of mothers and daughters.  This extensive portfolio focused on capturing moments of the complex mother-daughter relationship.  Often my focus is on the relationships, but equally I am interested in the person enjoying solitude.

When I am in my city, my environment and I am busy teaching or organizing the program and instructors at Photoworks, my shooting mornings or evenings are in the woods or near the creek in the neighborhood.  I seem to need time away from people, finding the light and reacting to the mood of the moment.  However, when traveling I almost never take landscape images, but concentrate on watching people and waiting for moments that reveal a sliver of their life or interests or daily ritual.

The images in your current show at Multiple Exposures Gallery come from Sicily and Key West, two very different locations and cultures.  How do the locations you chose to shoot in influence the images you capture? The Sicilians, in preparation for Easter, presented my first look at a religious event and the elaborate preparations and seriousness

(c) Karen Keating

of the weeklong affair.  Photographers from many European countries and the U.S. flock to several small towns in Sicily to capture the complexity and importance of Easter Week.  It is truly photographing a five-day event with Good Friday being a 24-hour non-stop parade of altars throughout Marsala.  The enactment and emotions are intense.  I am not sure that I knew what to expect and I found the ten days a profound challenge.

A year later, I was in Key West for Easter.  I have photographed in Key West many times and have found Bahama Village to be my preferred neighborhood.  Bahama Village is off

the beaten path of the well-known tourism in Key West.  I always prefer to select a section of a city, a neighborhood to concentrate on observing daily life whether it is Havana, London, and Kampala.

In preparing for this exhibit the contrast in the two Easters seemed distinct – certainly in my emotional reaction to the two Easters.  I do not think that it was the locations alone, but rather the differences in emotions between the solemnity of Marsala and the joy of Bahama Village after Easter services.  With any street shooting, there is a combination of the observed emotions and the photographers.  I am sure that this is true in most genres of photography.

Tell us what you think it takes to be a successful street photographer? I am not certain that being a successful street photographer is any different from being a good studio, landscape or still life photographer.  Often I define myself as a documentary photographer gravitating to street portraits.  I know that I want to be on the street, observing, watching daily life. Most often I stay still or wander slowly believing that an image will emerge.  At all costs, I try to avoid “chasing” images.  Sometimes I engage people in conversation, sometimes not.  But always the people are aware that I am taking photos.

I believe that there needs to be an artistic challenge when shooting – uncertainty, tension, an edge, even butterflies. The anticipation to capture a moment or ever-illusive images is always present.  Often when I am on the street, I doubt that there will be any images during that shoot.

The chaos of form on the street is always a factor and then there is the experience of “just missing” a moment of significance.  In the end, the street photographer must be prepared and react to the moving images and events.  Planning or organizing on the street seems to be a sure method for being on the outside of events.  The planning aspect is before I take the camera out of the bag and before I load the film.  Once on the street, I am eager to find the visual adrenaline while watching the stream of life.  It is a combination of these feelings, which keeps image making enduring, challenging, and rewarding to me.

STREET PORTRAITS can be seen at Multiple Exposures Gallery at the Torpedo Factory Art Center through October 13, 2013.

Daily Contemplative Photography Makes A Difference

(c) Colleen Henderson

MEG member Colleen Henderson's new show, DAILY DIFFERENCES, highlights the powerful creative convergence that results when contemplative photography is combined with daily shooting. She shares the backstory below: 
  
Your new show, DAILY DIFFERENCES, contains images you created over the past five years during periods of deliberate daily shooting. What drove you to begin this project? It was a convergence of two things. A “contemplative photography” class I took on a whim, and my longtime interest in pursuing a “365 Project.”  Contemplative photography is a way of stepping back and looking at everyday things, even those that are mundane, with fresh eyes to find beauty within them. At the time, my photographic roots lay firmly in black & white land and seascapes, and night images of DC.  When I felt daring, I allowed myself some latitude by exploring in color, but otherwise I followed a predictable path when making my art.  My exploration of contemplative photography was meant to push me outside of my comfort zone and continue my creative development.

My first assignment was to spend three hours meandering through Cleveland Park, a Washington, D.C. neighborhood, and bring back 10 photographs for “show & tell”.  For the first few hours, I wandered, wondering what I could possibly see and capture that was worthy of sharing and would not reveal me as a photographer fraud. But then something happened.  Images began to appear before my eyes—faster than I could click the shutter.  Over the course of three days I saw—and photographed—my world in ways I’d never imagined.

(c) Colleen Henderson

Where does the 365 Project come in? About the same time, I’d been toying with the idea of a embarking on a “365 Project,” a concept that can be traced back to Jim Brandenburg, a National Geographic Society photographer. In the late 1990’s, Jim challenged himself to make one photograph each day for 90 days.  The results were published in a 1998 book, Chasing the Light.  The images and concept really struck a chord with me and I imagined embarking on a similar project some day. In addition to making images, I also teach fine art photography, and one day I suggested to the members of a class that they consider undertaking a 365 Project. As fate would have it one student embraced the idea and invited (read: challenged!) me to join her.   The timing was right, and besides, how could I refuse?  The rest is history.

You’ve taken this project much further than 365 days. What’s kept you going? I’ve been shooting daily images and sharing them on Facebook on and off for 5 years now.  The rewards have been manifold. I have many new images that otherwise would not have been made, but I expected that.  What I didn’t foresee was the impact it’s had on my photography.  I see and compose better.  I judge less and reveal more.  I have more clarity of purpose.  I better understand light, and how the camera records it.  I’m more mindful of my immediate surroundings. And I’m more playful, confident and creative.

Do you set out to shoot each day or do you always have a camera with you and just photograph something when it strikes you? It varies, but more often than not, my shots are something I capture as I go about my daily business. Coffee and Cream, one of my favorites from the series, was taken when I noticed the juxtaposition of two coffee cups on my counter. Another well-received image in the show captures cherries on a plate in my kitchen. Others, such as Skeleton Tree and Sentinels were taken out in the field during dedicated photo shoots, the former during a workshop I was running in Charleston, South Carolina, and the latter during a sunrise shoot at the U.S. Capitol.

(c) Colleen Henderson

Do you ever worry about running out of material? Not if I stay true to the teachings of contemplative photography. There is always something to capture if we open our minds and eyes to the beauty around us. We can even capture the same thing multiple times, but in different ways, which fosters our creativity.

Your show includes framed fine art prints and beautiful, limited edition, hand bound, books that showcase your images.  Why did you opt for that format? I’ve been studying the art of bookmaking for 15 years and wanted to combine my passion for photography with my love of creating small, handmade books. There’s something about holding an image in your hand that’s much more intimate than simply viewing it on a wall, behind glass, and I wanted to create that experience for people. The books are made of Italian silk, smooth gray suede, and handmade Bhutanese paper, all of it bound together with a special Coptic stitch that allows the book to lay flat when open.  The books are available in limited editions of five. 



DAILY DIFFERENCES is on view at Multiple Exposures Gallery at the Torpedo Factory Arts Center in Alexandria, VA, through October 13, 2013.
 

A Fascination With Old Cemeteries

(c) Michael Borek

MEG member Michael Borek shares his fascination with old cemeteries and what he found on a recent trip to Buenos Aires. 

I am fascinated by old cemeteries, but I am scared of places that are overrun by tourists.  I am from Prague, Czech Republic, and I used to love to go to the old Jewish cemetery in downtown when it was still behind the Iron Curtain and hardly any visitors set foot there. However, that cemetery changed immensely after the fall of Communism and going there now feels like being at Times Square. Even though the scenery is still nice and pleasantly bizarre, it is impossible to enjoy it quietly with the never-ending stream of tourists.

When I was preparing for my trip to Buenos Aires, many people and guidebooks recommended visiting the Recoleta Cemetery. I usually don’t like to visit “must-see” and touristy places, so I was hesitant. I am glad that my curiosity prevailed. The cemetery covers 14 acres, and, if one steers clear of the tomb of Eva Peron and several other luminaries, the experience can be quite private. The whole necropolis feels like a city within city and there seem to be even little “neighborhoods” with their own atmospheres.  It is a true memento mori with grandiose tombs with beautiful Art Nouveau and Neogothic architecture in various stages of disrepair, interspersed with rotting flowers or always fresh plastic flowers, dust, spider webs, and condensation on the windows, rendering everything even more mysterious. 

(c) Michael Borek

In most of these pictures, I tried to capture the sense of transience I felt there. However, there is one photo that is quite different. I became fascinated by a photograph on a tomb of a woman who died in 2010. Next to her traditional black and white portrait that one would expect on a tomb, there is a color picture of her and what I suppose was her car, a Ford Edsel, taken in 1958. There is no question that the car is the most dominant part of the

(c) Michael Borek

picture. And in case some viewer did not understand what he was viewing, there is a caption under the photograph with the woman’s name and the model of her car. Even though this photograph is visually different than the rest of the pictures I took at this cemetery, it seem to complement the others with its postmodern suggestion that a person should be remembered by her beautiful car.