Photography Atelier

Barquito de Papel: we are not butterflies

My family has a long history of migration and I have always been interested in issues related to navigating borders. For years I have been photographing everyday physical borders that separate us from whatever is on the other side: walls, windows, screens as well as monumental borders like the ocean. In this experimental project I consider what it means to cross borders. These everyday borders serve as an intimate way to investigate the overwhelming issue of immigration, reminding us that the issue is a human issue rather than a merely political one. The view and experience that shape our perspectives differ on either side of any kind of border.

This installation combines shifting images of borders with barquitos de papel, paper boats, folded from paper printed with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the Declaration of the Rights of the Child, adopted by the international community in 1989 and ratified by 196 countries (not including the United States). In this country, Immigration has always been a fraught issue. But immigration is not only an American issue, it is a human issue that impacts people across the globe in ways that can be lifesaving or devastating.

My daughter’s grandparents are exiles from Cuba on one side and Haiti on the other. On both sides the ocean has proved to be a magnificent border and some of my research has taken me to consider the beautiful and terrifying ways the ocean serves as both conduit, barrier and vessel. Since 2014 there have been 21,000 recorded deaths during migration (a necessarily low estimate), the majority of these are caused by drowning making the ocean a tomb as well.

The boats remind us of the vulnerability of migrant populations, particularly children and reference the barquitos in the children’s song:

Barquito de papel, mi amigo fiel, / Little paper boat, my faithful friend,
llevame a navegar por el ancho mar. / carry me away over the wide sea.
Quiero conocer a niños de aquí y allá / I want to meet children from here and there y a todos llevar mi flor de amistad. / and take them all my flower of friendship.
Abajo la guerra , arriba la paz / Down with war, up with peace.
Los niños queremos reir y cantar. / We children want to laugh and sing

Tree and Door

During one of many routine drives I noticed a single tree rooted on a sliver of dirt and leaning towards a closed wooden door. The tree seemed to reach for the door, expressing a yearning for something hidden behind it. On subsequent trips I made a point of pausing to photograph the tree, door, and relationship between them. A quiet story emerged from the small details captured in images over time. My growing familiarity with their shared life unveiled a deeper understanding of my own yearnings and dreams.

For over 6 years I’ve recorded the life of the tree and door; this is an excerpt from that ongoing project.

Zoomorphics

In the series Zoomorphics, I transform my appearance using body paint and photograph myself as different creatures inspired by the natural world. Animals, plants, fungi, and more can be found in my work. I believe that connecting to nature is fundamental to the human experience, even as spending time outdoors is a diminishing part of modern urban and suburban life.

The role of gender is also central to this project. Women’s bodies have been used in fine art and advertising as objects onto which different meanings and motives are projected, and in body painting as undifferentiated canvasses. By working as model, painter, and photographer, I challenge these uses of the female body, taking artistic control of how my body and self are presented. The decision to use an alternative form of makeup on myself, and to make my images formally reminiscent of selfies, is intended to further reinforce a feminist critique.

While there is intense social pressure on women to transform our appearances to meet traditional beauty standards, I am interested in using the tools of body paint and photography to represent myself in a way that aligns with my own aesthetics and intellectual concerns.

A Modern Family

Social media bombards us with photographs of the modern family. On a daily basis, we see new images of smiling children and joyful parents, enjoying a sunny day at the beach or celebrating a birthday. These photographs are typically carefully choreographed, taken after everyone has been instructed to smile for the camera. While we generally accept the truth of these images, the real lives of these children and families are far more nuanced and complicated than these scripted representations.

In contrast to those sanitized moments, these photographs of my family attempt to offer a more complete narrative. Some of these images were created in a fleeting, serendipitous moment when the light was right and the camera was around my neck. In others, pieces of reality were seized upon and used to capture a representation of something authentic. Ultimately, the centerpiece of each photograph is the essence of a real moment or emotion. I hope that these images present a larger slice of reality than their social media counterparts, and thereby tell a more truthful and intriguing story.

Stand Here

When I was in the fourth grade my teacher used to leave a photo on our desk each morning and our job was to write a one-paragraph story about that photo. The pictures were straightforward and childlike: a bunny, a cup and saucer, a sled.

As an adult I became a professional writer publishing in books and magazines. When I hit a dry-spell in my writing, I turned to photography—creating pictures that stirred my own imagination and reignited my personal creativity.

Michael Goldman wrote in a poem,

“When the Muse comes
She doesn’t tell you to write; /
She says get up for a minute,
I’ve something to show you,
stand here.”

~ As quoted by Annie Dillard in her book, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

In this series of colorful, evocative images, I entice the viewer into these real spaces hoping that I can inspire them to create their own stories.

Not Forgotten

The motivation to create the series Not Forgotten was twofold; a newly rediscovered treasure of childhood shoes found in my parents’ attic and a visit to the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam where several of his shoe portraits are on display. And so began my persistent hunt for the ideal locations, diffused light and timeless context that would allow me to create an emotional narrative, and evoke the character of the shoe’s possessor. Approaching the project with a perspective that, “every shoe tells a story” the images were created as a means of unfolding subtle hints about the wearer, their circumstance and personal journey. Although universal to us all, shoes embody the particular characteristics of the owner – some elusive, others more explicit. Shoes can provide an escape from reality, an unbound happiness, or armor against life’s unfavorable conditions. In this work, the well-worn shoes suggest a surprisingly intimate and revealing portrait of our human existence.

I am in dialogue with complexity in a world which is never still, or “a still.” From the scale of sub-atomic particles to galaxies, the science of physics describes matter-energy as a continuum of three coordinates: time, space and motion. In earth time where we dwell, the right photographic light is a wait for our planet to turn on its axis “just so.” An early artistic question emerged: so why not also my camera turning as I shoot? Back in my studio, the moment of the shoot retreats. In the studio, time and material appear in a different form which alludes to a place but does not attempt to capture or hold it still. I am endlessly surprised by the places that emerge.

Architecture Nevertheless                             

My interest in photography began alongside my commitment to architecture and now, after a career as a practicing architect, photography is with me again. Not surprisingly, I am drawn to buildings as subject matter and particularly to those not touched by the hand of an architect. I enjoy photographing these buildings, which are usually regarded as unremarkable but I think possess a raw elegance.

The fruit and vegetable stands that dot the roadsides throughout New England are good examples of this vernacular. At one time these simple structures were ubiquitous upon the rural landscape but now seem to be fading away as fewer families are interested in growing produce for sale in their backyards.

Broad roof cantilevers, slatted walls, post and beam construction, gridded windows, applied decoration and latticework are illustrative of the care given by their owners and builders. This is an informal architecture; an architecture without architects; buildings without a pedigree; but architecture nevertheless.

Admirals Hill, Chelsea MA

Chelsea, Massachusetts is the second most densely populated city in Massachusetts, second only to Somerville. The city’s urban fabric consists of two and three story buildings in tightly knit neighborhoods with corner convenience stores. Walking around these neighborhoods people can easily be seen relaxing on their front porches or steps, traversing to and from work, heading to the laundromat, or heading in for a hair cut. The close proximity to one another makes Admirals Hill in Chelsea a welcome haven.

This peaceful green open space sits on the south side of Chelsea next to the Mystic and Chelsea Rivers. Gentle waves lapping from the rivers, leaves lightly rustling overhead and people and pets strolling by fill the space with sounds of calmness. In the background there is a low hum of traffic overhead along the Tobin Bridge, serving as a subtle reminder of the close proximity of urban life.

I was drawn into this place for its serenity and I began to photograph the people here enjoying a break from their busy lives. People can be found here connecting with nature, with friends and family, or sometimes just enjoying a moment of solitude. Spending time here enjoying this open space and taking photographs showed me how truly important these connections are for urban dwellers.

Nature Nurtures

I spend time each week in the woods; I find my hours there nurturing and healing. Walks enable me to slow down, and all my senses are heightened. I’m drawn to photograph a moment or scene that moves me – the play of light through overhead leaves; lichen attached to a rock face; a rotting log hosting new life; a tree limb arching over a vernal pool.

Humans evolved in nature, seeing green vegetation and blue sky, smelling the scent of trees, hearing the sounds of animals, feeling the weather on our skin. We are part of the natural world and it is within us. In our busy lives many of us have lost that connection. My own working years included a commute in a car followed by a long day in an office; I enjoyed the benefits of nature on occasional walks, hikes and vacations.

My goal with ‘Nature Nurtures’ is to remind us of our connection to the natural world, to value and enjoy it for our physical, emotional and spiritual health. With the environment threatened by exploitation and neglect, a deep appreciation of the natural world can also motivate us to protect and preserve it.