Final Series

Tomorrow I get to show the work that I have been obsessing over for the past 9 weeks to the group of people who I've been hashing out my ideas with all along.  To be honest, I am ready to walk away from this project for a while.  I need to focus on something different, something fresh.  Though I am very pleased with how my series turned out, there are still aspects of it that I would like to see evolve.

In the end, I decided to take out two images.  The two images, I really liked, but they just didn't fit.  It was hard to come to the conclusion that I just needed to give them up instead of trying to squeeze in more meaning.  It felt far too forced.  The story has already been established.  After taking a few days to look at the series, without these two images, the visual narrative really revealed itself to me.  I like the simplified feel that is now here.

 

I am still working on my Artist statement.  Writing it has been my least favorite part of this process.  It's difficult for me to put into words, something that I know will still grow into something else.  I feel like I have an idea of where it's going and where it's been.  But where it is now, I just don't know.  I still have a day to think about it and I'm hoping it will come easy.  All my attempts so far have been unsuccessful. 

 

I am still looking at the sequence and questioning whether or not the images are where they need to be.  Sometimes I am drawn to shapes and colors being near and other times I feel certain images need to be in certain places in order to aid the story.  I guess, right now I'm trying to find the balance.  I'm looking forward to seeing everybody's completed series.  It's been an interesting term getting to know everyone and becoming familiar with their work.  I have learned a lot.

Artist Statement

It's that time again to start thinking about artist statements.  The idea of writing one always plagues me the last three weeks of the term.  How is it, that it can be so difficult to put the ideas floating around in your head about your work in words?  Lately, I find it hard to even have a conversation about my work, much less write about it for all to pick apart.  In Project Seminar 1, my professor said my statement was too literal.  It gave too much information to the viewer.  I don't want to repeat that same mistake, so now I find myself in a place where I don't want to divulge any information.  Which is also not good.  I know I'm not the only one here.  I mean, I've never met anyone that loved to write artist statements. 

Artist statement aside, I am really pleased with my series thus far.  I have added new images that to me, give a sense of place and function.  With my last shoot, I felt like everything was finally coming together.  I had direction.

It's always interesting to hear the viewer's opinion.  What I feel about this work could be (and probably is) completely different from what everyone else feels.  I'm not sure if sharing in this exchange of critique is helpful or harmful when thinking about writing an artist statement.  Last term, I made the mistake of listening to my peers too much.  As a result, I wrote a statement that practically spoon fed the viewer.  As an artist AND a viewer, I hate that.  This term, I need to take all suggestions into consideration, but at the end of the day, I've got to stick to my guns.

A Trip to Jackson Fine Art

On Wednesday we took a trip to Jackson Fine Art and got to see two excellent exhibits.  One was The Fall of Spring Hill by Holly Andres.  I was somewhat familiar with her work before visiting and was pleased by what I saw.  This particular series has quite an eerie feeling to it.  When first browsing the photos, I noticed two things right off.  The lighting and the staged feeling in each shot.  The use of lighting throughout the series is stellar.  Something about the quality of light adds to the overall mysterious ambience.  I enjoyed how each image looked very staged.  Not so much in the shots involving the children, of course, but the images of adults had an uncanny sense of being meticulously set up.  It looked very cultish.  

One aspect of this series I did not like was the artist statement on the wall.  It said something like (and I am loosely paraphrasing here), "This is a story about a little boy falling out of a dilapidated play structure and a group of mothers who destroy it after the fact."  I felt like it really spoon fed the viewer. In fact, I didn't notice the statement on the wall on my first browse.  I had a whole story going in my head about a strange church cult where everyone was brainwashed, etc.  And I have to say, I was kind of disappointed when I read the actual meaning.  I think in the case of series like these, it's best to leave the interpretation up to the viewer.  

The Fall of Spring Hill Series (The Retribution), 2011

The other artist's work that we got to see was the work of Vik Muniz.  I have to say, I was pretty blown away by his work.  I didn't know what to think of it while I was there, but when I got home, I watched "Wasteland" which is a documentary about a project that he was working on in Brazil.  It's a great documentary and I highly recommend watching it.  I laughed, I cried, and most importantly it reminded me of how lucky I am to be living this life that I have been blessed with.  Watching "Wasteland" made me want to see his work again and look at it more closely.  I think I will be visiting Jackson Fine Art again soon.  Anyone want to come with?

Kael Alford

While visiting The High yesterday, I discovered the work of Kael Alford.  I don't know if it's because I am a native of Louisiana, but I found her work hauntingly poetic.  Her work is part of an exhibition called "Picturing the South".  While some images of the other two artists, Martin Parr and Shane Lavalette, were nice, I felt that Alford's really stood out.  When I looked at her photos, I felt a connection.  I could tell that she is not just snapping pictures.  She's waiting for a moment when she can connect with the subject and the outcome is beautiful.  Alford's images are from a series called "Bottom of 'da Boot:  Louisiana's Disappearing Coast."  The photos are taken after various hurricanes and the oil spill in 2010.

On a side note, Shane Lavalette is only 25.  How is he showing at The High?  Though his work did not resonate with me, I have to give him props for doing so well for himself.  Nice job.

In addition to "Picturing the South", I also visited the "Picturing New York" exhibition and was surprised by all the amazing photographers ranging from Alfred Stieglitz to Cindy Sherman.  It was quite inspiring indeed.  I highly recommend taking a visit if you haven't already.

Tomorrow I will be shooting, so feeling inspired is good.

{dREaM}

Working on this new series has gotten me thinking a lot about dreaming and daydreaming.  We've all heard Jung's views on dreams and how, according to him, they are a way by which we can communicate with the collective unconscious.  This concept of dream interpretation basically means that our dreams serve as a guide to offer solutions to problems or tribulations that we may be facing in our lives.  I have never really looked too far into my dreams and have certainly never made life decisions based upon them.  Actually, I take that back.  I'm sure that I have, I'm just not aware of it.  I've always been a bit jealous of people who have these amazingly vivid dreams where they fly and meet interesting, important people, etc.  Frankly, I've never been good at remembering my dreams.  If I don't talk about it right when I wake up, it's gone.  And my Nanny told me to never talk about my dreams until I've eaten breakfast because if you do, they might come true.  And as a person who can't watch a scary movie without having some kind of nightmare, I tend to keep my mouth shut. 


This series is moving into a direction that I'm having a lot of fun with.  First of all, the images that I'm creating are coming from a completely fictional story.  This leaves for quite a bit of wiggle room, but I don't want to go too crazy with that creative freedom.  I'd still like to end up with a somewhat cohesive,  sensible series of images.  So, where do I go from here?  This week I'll be exploring new ways of bringing the subtle, fuzzy qualities of dreams into my work and also taking a closer look into some of the shots from the last shoot that I quickly disregarded. 

This image is probably my favorite from last week's shoot.  The problem is, it doesn't fit perfectly into the series at the moment.  My goal is to make it fit.

10- Week Super SCAD Series Marathon

One thing I love/hate about SCAD is the 10 week terms.  On one hand, I enjoy the fact that my schedule is changing often and that I am quickly learning new things.  However, when trying to develop a new series, I LOATHE the 10 week terms.  The pressure of knowing that you not only have to propose a concept, you also have to produce it is overwhelming.  I CAN'T TAKE THE PRESSURE!    I would love to be able to take my time with an idea.  Plant the seed and let it grow.  At the moment, I am not feeling inspired.


Last term, I challenged myself to come up with a narrative as my concept for my series.  In the series, a woman is on a journey to find her lost son who had been taken from her as an infant.  When she arrives at the place where she thought he had been all these years, she discovers that the facilities are abandoned.  While, the viewer is not going to get the specifics of the story, I feel that I succeeded in the overall theme.  Here are just a few shots from that series.

This term, I am continuing with this story.  However, I'm not moving forward.  My next photos will be like flashbacks to the last series.  I want to show the mother with her child.  In these images, I would like for the viewer to be able to recognize them as flashbacks or dreams.  I began shooting the new images this past week and was left a little stumped as to where I'm going.  Though I am happy with some of the images, I worry about what message they are conveying.  Sometimes I find myself so caught up in the detailed story of these images and I forget that the viewer is not necessarily going to connect the dots themselves.  But at the same time, I feel like that's okay too.  I don't want to spoon feed the viewer into gaining the exact story I have in my head.  If I wanted that to happen, I would just add words and make a book.  Here are a few of the shots from this week's shoot.

Post Panel Thoughts

Last Wednesday evening I attended a panal discussion at Hagedorn Gallery. The panelists were Sheila Pree Bright, Ed Garnes, Erin Harper, & Fahamu Pecou and they were discussing ideas of conflicted racial and identity issues using Michael Jackson as a platform for topics. The work featured in the gallery right now is that of Todd Gray who was Michael Jackson's personal photographer from 1974-1984. The discussion was interesting but one topic that stood out to me is how much a person is willing to sacrifice in order to be a successful artist. This got me thinking. How much am I willing to sacrifice? Before starting art school, I never thought it would be possible for me to be a fine artist. For me, art school was a way to change my life an embark on a new path. However, after now being an art student for over a year, I am learning that I am not only expected to produce quality work, I am also expected to be competitive. I am supposed to network and market myself. This is not what I had in mind. I can say that I honestly decided to go back to school and be a student of photography in order to have better artistic tools to express myself with. Before attending school, I was learning from a friend and teaching myself what I could. I was at a place on my life where my career was not challenging me and quite frankly, bringing me down. I knew that I needed to make a change. So now that I am here, I feel like one of the few who are actually here to better express themselves. Everyone seems so work driven. "What internships have you applied for? Y What type of work do you do? Where would you like to see yourself working in 5 years?" these are all questions I have recently been asked and I just don't have the answers to. I am new to the idea of calling myself an artist and to be honest, I need more time to figure out where this path is leading me. Until then, I'm just going to continue to learn and grow. Hopefully, soon I will know what to say when I am confronted with the opportunity to promote myself.

Starting a New Series

To me, starting a new series can be daunting. As I sit in La Guardia waiting for my flight back to Atlanta, I am trying to give myself a pep talk. “This new series will be great! It will be just as successful as the last and take me to new places as an artist.” (Blah, blah, blah). However, all I can think about is the beautiful place I’ve spent the past two days surrounded by wonderful friends and family. I was in a place called Full Moon just north of Woodstock, NY. No phones. No Internet. And barely any digital photography. I have recently acquired a Yashica MAT twin lens camera ( yes, I know, the poor man’s Rolleiflex) and am loving it. I have experience shooting 35 mm film, but this is my first time experimenting with medium format. I think I’m addicted. I feel like it’s all I want to do now. The simplicity of the process makes me feel at home. Sometimes when I am shooting with my DSLR, I feel overwhelmed with options. It’s nice to return to an instrument that requires you to take your time, visualize your image, think about the settings, and snap. I think I need this in my life right now.

So back to my series. I was originally thinking about shooting digitally, but now with my new love affair with medium format, I feel like I should continue in this direction. Maybe I’ll try both in the beginning and see which I prefer. Maybe it was just my brief escape from technology and a return to all things simple, but I can say that I’m leaning towards the old Yashica. The excitement of learning a new instrument makes the task of actually starting this series a little less daunting.