Inside/Out

Provocative architecture continues to command my attention and compels me to photograph its soothing abstract and geometric features. In the series Inside/Out, I look beyond the straightforward characteristics of these graphic backdrops and focus my attention on parallel worlds suggested by reflections in windows and other mirror-like surfaces.

None of the photographs in this series have been staged. Nor do they include any in-camera double exposures or post-processing tricks.
They are real scenes photographed from different vantage points that play with our perceptions.

These images may be confusing at first, challenging viewers to figure out what is being reflected and how. Are we looking from the outside in? Or, from the inside out? Are the distorted reflections real or imagined?

In Inside/Out, those distinctions don’t really matter because the two worlds co-exist within the same frame. And that’s part of the fun.

Anonymity

This current body of work entitled “Anonymity” was inspired through my work with a local non-profit agency, HomeStart, Inc.; HomeStart is committed to ending and preventing homelessness in Greater Boston.  I’ve sponsored fundraising events for them, but it wasn’t until I attended one of their holiday events that I was drawn into the faces in the crowd and their stories.  I’ve tried to capture the soul of my subjects while respecting their dignity … and trying to understand their plight.

Elm Street Dam, Kingston MA

The Jones River winds its way across my home town of Kingston, from Silver Lake to Kingston Bay. About halfway down its course is the Elm Street Dam. The Jones has been dammed in various locations by settlers since the late 1600’s, but this latest dam was built in the 1920’s. It’s actually a complex of falls, sluiceways, fish ladders, and pools.

This place fascinated me as a youngster. Perhaps it was the sound of rushing water, or the slight cool mist on a hot summer day, but more likely it was to enjoy the many ways the persistent Jones conquered the simple structural forms that make up this place.

Recently I found myself drawn back to the Elm Street Dam, to see it with new eyes, and through the lens of my camera.

And apparently, I arrived just in time. Through the efforts of the Jones River Watershed Association, funds have been raised and plans put in place to remove the dam. This effort is part of a movement across coastal New England to restore rivers to their original state as tidal estuaries, providing natural flood control, and allowing smelt, trout, shad, eels, and turtles to once again thrive in the full length of the these rivers.

So, I’m grateful for the opportunity to record what will soon become history, and look forward to returning when the restoration is complete.

For information on the Elm Street Dam removal project: https://jonesriver.org/ecology/dams/elm-street/

Just Me

I live in a newly emptied nest. Until recently, my children were the focus of my days and the subjects of my art. In the quiet of my house, I stand between the lure of the past and the unanswered potential of the future. Just Me is a series of self-portraits exploring this crossroads, a reckoning between my deep connection to family and tradition and my desire to find my own voice in the present. Using skills passed down from my grandmothers and aunts, I create a world in front of my camera that is uniquely mine and mine to determine. I sew, paint, and collect the artifacts for each tableau. This control stands in contrast to the vulnerability I feel standing in front of the camera. Ultimately, it’s the contradiction and balance between the two that interests me most. Through this process, I am discovering who I was, who I am, and who I will be.

Color and Light

I always to look for order and simplicity amidst the challenges and complexities of daily life. Color and Light, represents my latest challenge: to find new vision in the architectural spaces I explore. I look across and up, searching for simplicity and order of line, color and light. The light is my primary source of inspiration and destination. I see light as an opportunity to see forward and beyond the present. I often choose soft neutral palates with the addition of bold, surprising color. I create unique images with the precision of straight lines and a few angles. I look for reflection to define texture and depth and unite the light and color.

The earliest pieces in this series were taken in museums where I use elements of soaring walls, narrow corridors, and natural light sources to create my abstract compositions. As my work on this series has continued, I have found new architectural spaces, both grand and ordinary, to explore. In any space, my goal is to realize balance and order within the elements of of light, color, line, and reflections of walls and windows to create something new. My vision is to continue this work with the addition of other elements such as curves, and material textures to create unexpected perspectives.

Slowly at First

 For the last two years, my 87-year-old Mom, Gloria Boches Abramson, had been housebound as her physical condition slowly deteriorated. In May of 2018, pneumonia sent her to the ICU and left her even weaker, her lungs and heart both compromised.

Despite having all of her mental faculties and sense of humor, she decided enough was enough. She rejected the hospital’s recommendation for rehab and opted instead for hospice care. She was ready and eager to die, but determined to die at home.

When I asked Mom if I could document her final days as a way to both witness her courage and confront my own fear of losing her, she agreed. She had been an artist herself — a painter, illustrator, and musician — and knew that this was important to me.

In hospice care, she started to improve, and we both thought this project might go on for six months. But then suddenly, her health took a turn for the worse, and in a matter of days it was over.

Slowly at First documents my Mom’s last month on earth and all the emotions it triggered. More importantly, it helped me process the experience of losing someone I loved.

Becoming Animal

To see a wild animal in the natural world is a sublime joy, but one not easy to attain.  While aquariums are not natural, I can easily wait for quiet moments when the animal has forgotten me and slips into its own concerns. I watch for flashes of innate awareness, of each animal’s essence.

These images fuel my fantasies where I swoop like an otter, lurk like an octopus, strive for the surface like a turtle, contort like a swan, gather like a school of fish, and sleekly fly though water.

While animals are sentient, theirs is not a human consciousness. How does what they sense affect their behavior? In this personal project, I search for hints as to the nature of that cognizance.

Glimpses of the Past

When I wander this land that we call Earth, I feel a magnetic attraction to things from before the time of my birth. It’s with spiritual reverence that I interrupt my travels to visit the places of these artifacts. While there, I imagine the folks who toiled and thrived to make these places worth remembering.

I make my photographs with the same reverence that causes me to detour from my journeys. It’s patience and love at every step of the photographic process; capture, development, post-processing, printing and presentation, which allow me to share the beauty of these places.

It is my pleasure to share “Glimpses of the Past” with you.

Somewhere in the Middle

Like many Midwesterners, I left home to pursue education and employment. After decades of living on the east coast, the Midwest felt like a foreign country. The feelings of alienation were heightened by the political divide our nation is currently experiencing. Because I felt out of touch with aspects of family and my home, I hoped to go back home and visit as much of my old stomping grounds as much as possible.

As luck would have it, this past spring presented a chance to flirt with retirement and a long road trip. My partner and I set off to visit all of the midwestern states as well as Montana and Wyoming. We wound our way through small towns dotting rural state highways. Memories of history lessons long forgotten were rekindled as we rode through areas where fortune seekers, pioneers and warriors had roamed. Monuments to endurance and audacious ambition were plentiful.

As my photos accumulated, it became clear to me that the iconography of the west is very present in our culture to this day. In my work here is presented the iconography of the buffalo, nature’s bounty, Indian warrior and cowboys in their various permutations.

Human|Nature

Human|Nature is a series of photographs made within the Fenway Victory Gardens, the oldest, continuously operating World War II community garden in the United States. I came into this maze of plots initially seeking a patch of dirt to work myself, but my urge to dig in the earth was supplanted by curiosity to explore this larger green world within Boston. Like a labyrinth, this organic, organized chaos houses a diverse community of flora, fauna and humans. These portraits give a glimpse of the place and its people from all origins, orientations and economies, as they converge and reconnect with nature: grow food, seek solace, build community and escape reality.

I am a nature-lover and social activist. In today’s world, I believe standing up for mother nature and fellow man is more and more crucial. Disconnecting from technology and reconnecting with the physical world is part of my strategy. As I wonder through the aisles and talk to people in their plots, I feel myself get more grounded in society and life. Sharing these images is like sowing seeds: an invitation to look over the fence to know your neighbor or grow your own greener grass.