Project Update

I've reached the end of the shooting phase of Project Pond Scum and have begun making prints from the remainder of my negatives. I've got maybe 15 or 20 left to go so I'm hoping to pull another 5 promising prints from those and then begin to narrow it down to 25 or 30 final photographs for the series and a show. As tough as that may be, choosing 10 for the portfolio will only be that much more difficult!

My fingernails will be going black again as I've found that using dirty old Amidol makes it possible to change the contrast of Kentona on some prints to a degree I can't reach with my Ansco 130 developer. I can't complain though, it's well worth the extra mess for those images that require it.

I've been considering adding subtitles to some of the prints and also need to finish an essay to accompany the body of work. Add that and the printing to my list along with scanning, mounting, framing, entering contests and looking for places to hang it and suddenly finishing the shooting no longer seems so much like the end.

Neither Snow nor Rain nor Gloom of Night...

With the shooting for Project Pond Scum wrapped up and no graded paper to finish the printing until UPS brings my next box of Kentona, I was looking for something to do. I bought a huge light table a few years back and had been toying with the idea of shooting back lit leaves. The weather hasn't been pleasant the last couple weekends, be it wind or rain or simply lack of sunlight. It finally convinced me to take the work inside and I collected a couple handfuls of interesting leaves from all over the farm. I decided to light the front of the leaves as well and simply used my desk light with it's positionable arms. I have to really stretch my camera out to focus as closely as I like which causes the exposures to total about 20 seconds despite shooting directly into a light source. It's a bit more difficult than I thought to get everything into focus and composed as I want but the results so far have been well worth the effort. A little more time collecting specimens and I'll have enough subject matter to keep me busy all season, regardless of the conditions.

Pond Scum for the Holidays!

I've released two new Special Edition Prints for the 2007 holiday season. Due to the considerable interest in Project Pond Scum I have chosen #1 and #64 from the series which will be available for the reduced price of $50 each. Both photographs are 4x5 silver contact prints mounted and over matted to 8x10inch white Artcare Alpharag 4 ply board. They are numbered and signed on the front - stamped, dated and titled on the verso. Once January rolls around the prints will revert to their normal price of $100. Check out my WEBSITE for more information. (#1 is above and to the left, #64 is directly below, the first image in my last BLOG post.)

Fall at the Farm

While fall is undoubtedly one of the most temperate and beautiful seasons in western Pennsylvania it always brings with it a familiar sense of melancholy. Like spring the center of the sun may be passing the equator at a certain time but the real first days of autumn are unmistakable and never marked on the calendar. Those days came unseasonably late this year and with almost no gradation. The warm weather broke and the leaves seemed to suddenly burst into flame.

The chores of fall; splitting wood, painting the roof, cleaning the chimney, raking and grinding the leaves... they have a certain sense about them as well. Pumpkins are everywhere, gracing doorsteps, windows, the front page of the local paper almost daily and they even showed up in the beer at the nearby brewery. Farmers are in overdrive with the year's final harvest and the sound of the high school marching band drifts up the hill from town heralding the arrival of a new football season.

All of a sudden you're wearing a jacket, long sleeves and keeping an eye open for the first sighting of your long invisible breath. A weekend campfire becomes more than a novelty and place to toast marshmallows and it doesn't take long to find it's way to the wood stove inside. Chestnuts and pumpkin seeds are the snack of the hour and finding a silly Halloween costume (Ansel Adams this year) becomes a serious priority.

One of the more subtle signs of fall around Campbell's Farm is the recession of the pond scum and it has taken on a new significance for me this year. I've noticed that the algae has a way of collecting things on it's surface; helicopter seeds in the spring, grass from the mowers and weed eaters in the early summer, even goose feathers in late August and September. Now colorful leaves float whimsically from the overhanging branches to dot the green and dark waters like radiant constellations, brilliant against the Milky Way on the clearest of nights.

Tonight I loaded holders with the last 9 sheets of film I had dedicated to my Pond Scum Project. While there is still much printing, mounting, scanning, and publicizing to be done I couldn't help feeling a similar melancholy to that which fall brings with her. Of course it's mixed with excitement to realize the completion of my first major project but the mystery and unlimited potential of the unknown seems to be disappearing like those leaves hanging over the pond.

It seems the cycle persists indifferently, the air will continue to cool and the light to fade until the snow comes and with it a new set of happenings, emotions and photographic possibilities.

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.