Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Algea in the Sky with Diamonds
While some relationships in our landscape are easy to recognize others demand a little more of our attention to discover. Since I started my Pond Scum Project in earnest this summer I've been making all sorts of discoveries. With focused attention I've seen the ponds on Campbell's Farm in ways I never before considered.
I've always been intrigued by the way an intimate look at nature so closely resembles the much broader view. I've seen these similarities between the alluvial fans of Death Valley and the way a spring run off shapes my driveway in Pennsylvania. Science has observed them between the smallest particles and the largest galaxies we've found. No greater photographic example exists than the aerial images of William Garnett and the closeup abstractions of Brett Weston. While their vision is markedly different the subject matter often times looks much the same despite the vast difference in scale.
Now I've found these connections in my own work. A patch of light algea protruding into the dark water like a tropical shoreline. Patches of plants and layers of scum in the water resemble a river delta winding it's way out of a forest and into the sea. Sticks in the mud become lightning dancing across a twilight canvas and most recently I've watched a patch of algae soar with the clouds while smaller pieces sparkle like diamonds in the evening sky. These forced visual relationships reveal a larger picture, one that I can only suggest. It's up to the viewer to determine just what connections they uncover in my work, what they mean and, ultimately, draw their own conclusions.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
A Cup of Coffee, a Red Marker and 12 New Contact Sheets.
I've been making large format contact prints exclusively for a few years now and only recently picked up an enlarger and some new split grade printing skills. I had been shooting 35mm negs at night for awhile but hadn't printed anything which meant there was much to be done. I started picking through single negatives and making prints before I decided it would be easier to get my hands on some rc paper and start making contact sheets.
I hadn't done it for years but it's easy and I was able to bang out 12 prints before attending a friend's wedding on Saturday. I had forgotten how exciting it is to pour over a fresh batch, so many new images and possibilities to consider all at once! Throw one on the light table next to it's companion sheet of negatives and you can quickly discern what's going to make a good print and what isn't, or at least which ones are going to be a problem.
I'm now much clearer about what makes it to the front of the line and more eager to get them printed than ever. There's so much potential in a cup of coffee, a red marker and 12 new contact sheets.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Snapshots to Art and Back Again
I began taking pictures during high school, I did so as a way of recording my experiences, memories, friends and family. I always enjoyed looking through the innumerable photographs that filled the albums my mother had made over the years. These pictures had a way of bringing back past times in a visceral manner that was not otherwise possible. Sometimes a smell or a song comes close, seems to place you back in a moment of time long past but it's rare and not something you can count on.
Somewhere along the way I become more interested in using the medium of photography to express myself and my feelings about the world around me than I was in recording my life. Early in 2004, when I began to dedicate myself to producing art, I ceased making snapshots altogether. It wasn't anything I though about, it was just something that happened. Maybe it was because I had begun to use a view camera, maybe it was because I was spending so much time in the darkroom and in the field that I didn't feel like taking a camera with me while relaxing or maybe it was because I was learning to work in a more thoughtful and methodical manner that I wasn't able to apply in social situations. Most likely it was some combination of all those things.
Whatever the cause my well kept personal albums had come to an abrupt end, relegated to the bottom of a bookcase, underneath my folders of new negatives and fine art prints. A couple of years went buy before I even thought about the change. What brought it to my attention was a purging of edited negatives last summer. As I went through my work deciding what would stay and what would go I found myself flooded with memories. Memories of early mornings in Moraine State Park, late nights at the Shenango Dam and noonlight blazing off the borax of Twenty Mule Team Canyon. Each of these exposures, whether they resulted in a successful print or not, brought back the intensity of my feelings as I worked with the camera, they brought back the heat of the days and the chill of the nights, the lunches with friends as we rested and talked.
I've realized that while I no longer take pictures in an attempt to record a memory, the photographs I work so hard to make and present as art are far better records of my experiences than any snapshot I made in the past. They're better because they not only record what was in front of the camera but also chronicle my thoughts and emotions in a way not otherwise possible.
Somewhere along the way I become more interested in using the medium of photography to express myself and my feelings about the world around me than I was in recording my life. Early in 2004, when I began to dedicate myself to producing art, I ceased making snapshots altogether. It wasn't anything I though about, it was just something that happened. Maybe it was because I had begun to use a view camera, maybe it was because I was spending so much time in the darkroom and in the field that I didn't feel like taking a camera with me while relaxing or maybe it was because I was learning to work in a more thoughtful and methodical manner that I wasn't able to apply in social situations. Most likely it was some combination of all those things.
Whatever the cause my well kept personal albums had come to an abrupt end, relegated to the bottom of a bookcase, underneath my folders of new negatives and fine art prints. A couple of years went buy before I even thought about the change. What brought it to my attention was a purging of edited negatives last summer. As I went through my work deciding what would stay and what would go I found myself flooded with memories. Memories of early mornings in Moraine State Park, late nights at the Shenango Dam and noonlight blazing off the borax of Twenty Mule Team Canyon. Each of these exposures, whether they resulted in a successful print or not, brought back the intensity of my feelings as I worked with the camera, they brought back the heat of the days and the chill of the nights, the lunches with friends as we rested and talked.
I've realized that while I no longer take pictures in an attempt to record a memory, the photographs I work so hard to make and present as art are far better records of my experiences than any snapshot I made in the past. They're better because they not only record what was in front of the camera but also chronicle my thoughts and emotions in a way not otherwise possible.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Pond Scum at TAG
Two photographs from my Pond Scum series (Pond Scum #10 and Pond Scum #14) are currently on display at the Trumbull Art Gallery in Warren, OH. The photographs are part of the 43rd TAG Annual Juried Exhibition which opened tonight with a reception and runs through September 22. The show was juried by Christopher Ryan of the Hiram College Art Department.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Project Pond Scum
I currently have undertaken two long term projects photographing the Campbell's Farm and Shenango River Lake areas. I anticipate both taking years to complete. Recently I'd been reading some Brooks Jensen, publisher of Lenswork, and had determined that it was time I found something I could focus on and complete in the short term. About that same time I had been admiring the work of Paula Chamlee. She produced a whole series of photographic closeups of a soaped up window while traveling in Iceland. It was all very abstract and quite beautiful.
Not long ago a friend who stopped shooting 4x5 inch film gave me his leftover stash of Ilford Delta 100 and Ilford FP4+. It was expired but only by a year and had been kept in a proper environment. I did a couple of tests and counted the film. It was fine and there were over 100 sheets. I also had about 75 sheets of 4x5 inch film myself. Well, expired film and my desire to produce a series in a short amount of time seemed the perfect fit.
I needed something close to home, something that I could work without too much travel so I started looking through some of my photographs. I found one, a close up of pond scum made in 2005, that reminded me of one of Paula's soaped window pictures. A light bulb went off and I decided to start working on a sort of companion to my Cambell's Farm or Thereabouts series, focusing on the algae. At first I planned on making all closeup abstractions. As I started working I was drawn to many of the visual relationships created not only by the pond scum but its surroundings. I've never limited myself to specific types of photographs and felt this was no time to start. I came to the conclusion that as long as algae is somewhere in the frame it was good enough for me.
I plan on shooting all the film over the course of the summer (after which the scum begins to disappear anyway) and prune the images down to the best 10 to 15 ,then release them as a portfolio. I've made and printed 14 different compositions so far though I've used a bit more film than that making backups. The results have been extremely encouraging to say the least. I will be adding a special section to my website and will post the progress over the course of the summer and fall. I think it's important to work with something you know and I've been admiring the ever changing surface of the 6 ponds here for years. When everything falls together as it has for this project, I think it would be foolish not to respond.
Please check www.shawndougherty.com for updates starting later this week. You can view Paula's Abstract Iceland gallery here. I also recommend picking up a copy of Lenswork if you're not yet familiar with it. They produce all the issues in a beautiful duo tone and have some of the highest standards among monochrome magazines.
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