paradise 2016
Being as I'm not a winter person, I'm fortunate that one of my most revered persons in the world happens to live in Southwest Florida.
Being as I'm not a winter person, I'm fortunate that one of my most revered persons in the world happens to live in Southwest Florida. Like birds that migrate, I would head there December first and return to New England for spring. As it is, I am lucky to visit for week to ten days.
Self Portrait in Bonita Springs, Florida - 2016
As this visit seems to free my photographer's spirit, I came away with images that stirred up the inspiration I long for in the dead of winter. I returned to shadows and tried to create images I felt. I explored with different techniques with an easy pace. I'm rather pleased with the range of expressions (and a few shadow silhouettes for my portfolio). As a bonus, I was able to visit with a photographer friend this year; and tho I tend to get a bit anxious each time I meet with a fellow creative, we packed a lot of miles into our conversation despite the short visit. So here are my impressions from my time in paradise.
impressions of art
When you're working on a film, it's almost like photographing paintings at a museum. ...
When you're working on a film, it's almost like photographing paintings at a museum. You're photographing somebody else's world. I just try and interpret it and make it real, and make it what the actors are about, what the director is about, and what the film is about.
Mary Ellen Mark
dancing pony | fred jones museum of art, norman ok
I wasn't raised with art nor was it an area discussed or taught in school. I actually had the sense that artists were viewed with suspicion; perceived with a condescending sneer or irrelevance; opinions most likely shaped by fear and discomfort with a pinch of underlying envy. There was a pervading (resigned) definition of “work” and art certainly wasn't in that category. It was something that lived on the fringes – something you might see in New York City; something others did, but in our little hive, it just simply wasn’t part of the pervading culture.
All these thoughts flashed through my head in my first Art History class. I remember feeling desperately uncomfortable and out of place. Yet once the lights were turned off and the first slide presented, the conflict that raged inside dissipated. I remember being carried onto a current of insatiable curiosity - enamored and possessed. I was so taken with Egyptian art that I painted hieroglyphs on pretty much everything - clothing, walls, canvas. When I couldn't visually understand the early Christian Cathedrals, I drew the floorplans; carefully mirroring each detail and curve to see the underlying structure. And when we arrived at early Flemish and then Dutch art, I found a peaceful intuitive understanding; like when you meet a person you feel you’ve known your entire life. I spent long days and nights in the Old Stacks sections of the library and in the Art Library on the floor looking at art. Pouring over paintings, etchings, woodcuts, sculpture and photographs. I couldn’t get enough of it and within a few years, I took a deep breath and changed my major to photography and art history.
I mention this all as my coming into art was like the first blossoms of spring which bring a burst of color into a dreary grayness. Art opened my eyes to the long view and while criticism abounds on the housing of art in museums and those who decide what is and isn’t worth showing, the feeling I have in a museum is no different than that first day in art history. I feel transported to another time and place of being and seeing and knowing. The narrowness of the day-to-day slides into a cosmic vastness for art is much more than an object; it is about life and living and stories of a particular place and time; at its core, it is a self-portrait. Over the years I've traveled to and visited museums whenever and wherever. I've been to the large ones and small ones and with each experience, I have felt swept into a time tunnel; a beautiful vortex that leaves me clear and inspired.
Though I didn’t’ feel the pull to photograph my wanderings through art museums until about five years ago, I've been quietly tucking them away enjoying them on my own. Recently, I took an afternoon and looked at them together. I began with words from Mary Ellen Mark in how she approached photographing on a film set because that's how these have surfaced. What I see in the photographs are quiet meditations of an enchanting solace - still, silent impressions of timelessness. I've chosen to share a few from a larger series I hope to present later this year.
Winter Bar Mitzvah | Newton, MA
From a session at home a few weeks before and a rehearsal a few days before to the party and the brunch.
I'm not a boy now. I'm a man, I hope. I hope I've had my artistic bar mitzvah somewhere.
Jeremy Piven
When asked by this Mom if I’d document her son’s Bar Mitzvah, I was speechless - I’m not Jewish and hadn’t ever photographed a Bar Mitzvah before, and I hold her work and our past collaborations together in high regard. But after thinking about it a little more, the story I envisioned was rather beautiful - one that wove the threads of what life is right now stitched together with the formal and celebratory aspects; pictures that expressed a story of the transition. I was fortunate to be met with an open enthusiastic ear and together we collaborated on a plan.
This story began late afternoon on a beautiful winter light day to document life at home weaving activities, hobbies, interests and day-to-day interactions. Given the centrality of hockey in their lives, we began with street hockey, took a break with smoothies and then documented a long awaited family tradition - creating the ice rink in the back yard. We followed with casual portraits of everyone together and then of the boy in his own world and ended the day with the more formal elements or rehearsing and a Bar Mitzvah portrait.
I returned a week or so later to photograph the practice rehearsal and while I'd planned to document the party, mother nature decided to drop a nor'easter which impeded my ability to actually get to the location (and yes, I was horrified). While I was able to use guest photos of the Hora in the book, I photographed the gathering the following morning at the Brunch in a relaxed gathering of warmth and love - and the first time of hockey in their cousins back yard.
Since this initial Bar Mitzvah, I've been thankful to receive a steady stream of commissions. In each I feel a deeper connection to the grace of spiritual values, the magic of this special rite of passage, and the importance in documenting the story.
THE BOOK
A SELECTION OF FAVORITES
mfa + boston
I believe art is like exercise and diet - once you stop moving, the old habits surface and in too short of a time, all the forward progress retreats at an alarmingly fast rate.
I believe art is like exercise and diet - once you stop moving, the old habits surface and in too short of a time, all the forward progress retreats at an alarmingly fast rate. It's much easier to grasp this in terms of dance or athletics for without daily stretching, the muscles tighten and the drive to push past a known limit dissolves. It's a metaphor I see with photographing. While sometimes the spaces in between can offer rest and inspiring insights, too much time away often leaves me unable to be present for I'm more eager to find something spectacular rather than enjoying the moment. While all this surfaced during a visit into Boston to see the Class Distinctions exhibit at the MFA, this time, I was willing to stand in the undertow of with compassion and rejoice in the moments that appeared.
hope | mfa, 2016
the art lesson | mfa boston, 2016
digital jukebox, conversation with imaginary friend | boston, 2016
the sketch
I am without words to aptly put the year behind into some kind of focus ... let alone a context to all the life that's been lived.
I am without words to aptly put the year behind into some kind of focus ... let alone a context to all the life that's been lived. Given the tendency at this time of year to make sense of what’s past, I think we are naturally inclined to understand our truths; to thoughtfully reflect on what felt like triumphs; to make sense of those times when the shadows were a little darker and days felt a little heavy. That by doing so, perhaps we can infuse what lies ahead into a mirage we cling to in our minds - that bit of nirvana we hope and pray for in our day to day. But when I think back to the bits I remember of last year at this time in thinking about the year ahead, I can only recall a desire to sense an impression - to sketch an outline instead of a shape. Yes I had hopes and wishes and goals yet they were trivialities in the grand scope of the review mirror for I could not have even in my wildest imagined all I've experienced. So on the second to last day of this year, I am reviewing all that was; retracing the steps, recalling the sights and sounds, the faces and places and spaces ... the seeds of last year's grains cast to the wind for the year ahead.
the little tree
It was the first week of December and i still hadn't figured out what to do for a holiday card.
It was the first week of December and i still hadn't figured out what to do for a holiday card. Tho I've accepted a need to be in the month to feel that special something in the air, i am still learning to let go and trust in the process. And yet on the day i planned to take a drive along the coast with a friend (with a hope of finding an image in the back of my mind), the great muse in the sky saw fit to fill this particular day with a mystical fog and mist; two elements that inspire my art seeking soul, and I knew there was a very special picture out there for me that day. I'd actually planned to take one from the Beverly seashore with a view back to Salem and it was here that i saw this little tree perched on the fence overlooking a calm harbor with the stacks from the power plant (which three years later are dismantled) barely visible in the background. Yes, this was the picture which pleased my heart. It was the one for the card, but more than that, it's one that lingered well after the month had passed and sparked an interest in finding little trees each year.
Little Tree & Salem Power Plant taken from Beverly, MA | 2012
As we were in Florida early to mid December the following year, I saw these three little trees nestled among the palms. Though a little too busy for a card, and not as "little" a tree as I'd hoped for, it was the image for the year for by the time we returned and acclimated, the spirit of the season had somewhat transitioned into the new year vibe.
Three trees at the Edison House Fort Meyers, FL | 2013
Last year's image surfaced in the most unremarkable location by day; by night, its presence was sweetly magical.
Spiraling Tree with Star, Salem, MA | 2014
This year, I saw one that like last years, had the right vibe at night. While it worked for the card, I'm still in an inspired search. And in that, I thought of seeing what i could do with staging my own little tree.
Little tree & Spotlight, Marblehead, MA | 2015
So I selected a sweet little fir in a red stand and gave it a try. It provided an afternoon of enjoyment, sparked inquiry from a child on the beach and others walking on the trail and may offer a few more afternoons of interest. But I can't deny a sense of feeling like i'm cheating ... or perhaps that this is a side series. For part of the allure of the Little Tree is the discovery .... it is the experience of a process, the time and persistence, and in that (for me) is the gift.
Little (Staged) Tree at Winter Island, Salem MA | 2015
for love
After many years of hearing stories about this particular family of a close friend, I finally had the opportunity to meet them.
After many years of hearing stories about this particular family of a close friend, I finally had the opportunity to meet them. Though it was bittersweet for this trip was supposed to include their "ma" who wanted to gather her children in Dublin to visit Boston and the one who lives here though sadly, she suddenly left our world too soon last summer. The family still came together for a long weekend together here in the city. And I was able to get this one little portrait of a few of them together.
a classic new england portrait
Commissioned as a gift by their realtor, this was a family session for this couple to remember the time they've spent in our state before their move took them west.
Commissioned as a gift by their realtor, this was a family session for this couple to remember the time they've spent in our state before their move took them west. I recommended this little gem in Marblehead on the neck overlooking the harbor at sunset. For the wind in their hair, the grass for their beloved golden retriever, and the salt in the air and thanks to an unusually warm early fall day. This is what golden looks like in our fare state.
the sweetest things
I don't think there's anything on this planet that more trumpets life that the sunflower. For me that's because of the reason behind its name.
I don't think there's anything on this planet that more trumpets life that the sunflower. For me that's because of the reason behind its name. Not because it looks like the sun but because it follows the sun. During the course of the day, the head tracks the journey of the sun across the sky. A satellite dish for sunshine. Wherever light is, no matter how weak, these flowers will find it. And that's such an admirable thing. And such a lesson in life.
Helen Mirren
on a trail | lynn woods
This mama with her daughter and five furry well behaved boys on a much loved trail in the lynn woods reservation on a perfect fall day late in the afternoon with streaming sunlight, mossy grounds, cool rocks and bare leaf trees.
This mama with her daughter and five furry well behaved boys on a much loved trail in the lynn woods reservation on a perfect fall day late in the afternoon with streaming sunlight, mossy grounds, cool rocks and bare leaf trees.
a shooting star
The times I've seen a star streaking across the night sky ... were in one breath, a single flash of a moment that held within it a hopeful magnificence; it's shimmering brilliance and the physical sensations that echoed within.
The times I've seen a star streaking across the night sky ... were in one breath, a single flash of a moment that held within it a hopeful magnificence; it's shimmering brilliance and the physical sensations that echoed within. The times when I've experienced this wonderment were ones of simply being tuned into a moment; present, quiet, aware. Unlike those times when I've held a certain kind of expectation - those nights of "ideal conditions" that resulted in nothing more than a dark night sky; I've never seen a shooting star in under these seeming idyllic settings.
My own personal path with photography is quite similar to the experience of a shooting star for a picture is at its essence a flash of frozen light; its shape shines with a similar illumination that settles into my insides as that streak across the sky. And just like I cannot will the heavens to do their magical light display at my disposal, I cannot conjure up "THE" image with insistence. Instead this is really about doing: "inspiration exists, but it has to find us working" (Pablo Picasso) + "chance favors the prepared mind" (Lois Pasteur). These two thoughts work in tandem.
To see a star, I actually have to show up in the night sky....I have to look with sincerity and patience and graciousness - to take in and appreciate the gifts on display. To make mistakes and embrace them. To look with a soft focus, detached and yet intent. Knowing that this night in this direction holds the best promise. Returning over and again for within the rhythm of practice, I cultivate an appreciation for the stars themselves rather than those that loosen and break free.
the boy | ocean park maine, 2015
sandpipers & gulls | lbi, 2015
And so, after some years of showing up and photographing ... with very little idea of where to look or what to look for, peering out among the millions of stars waiting for that one to streak across the sky, I've come to a certain kind of understanding with the zen of the sky - it's not the shooting stars, it's the outline of the whole. Seeing now the shapes that convey a certain kind of elegant longing mixed with nostalgia and a subtle humor ... the simple line I am drawn to time and time again, only now seeing they were there all along. The same image taken over and again in different cities and times of year.
family at the lake | new hampshire
A one year old boy surrounded by the love and adoration of grandparents, parents and a beautiful aunt on a November day at an exquisite lake house.
A one year old boy surrounded by the love and adoration of grandparents, parents and a beautiful aunt on a November day at an exquisite lake house.
the workshop
Thoughts on remembering this day last year which was day two of a weekend workshop with Mary Ellen Mark at the Center for Photography in Woodstock.
Thoughts on remembering this day last year which was day two of a weekend workshop with Mary Ellen Mark at the Center for Photography in Woodstock.
I've reflected long and deep on the kaleidoscope of emotions ... moments of celebration and inspiration, others of anxiety and humility and a willingness to simply wilt and let the layers peel off inside for often times the wrath of less desired emotions permits a passage to the other side; it was these thoughts that surfaced during the ride through upstate New York heading to photograph at the Columbia County Fair. And the instant we arrived at the fairgrounds, my eye latched onto two little girls in cowboy hats and boots entering with their grandparents and a wish to bump into them that day to take their picture. In hindsight, it was this need to photograph that moved me forward.
After we'd entered and set up a home-base, Mary Ellen confirmed with each of us what we'd be focusing on for the day (for me this was portraits) and we were turned loose to create.
I started off in an area with a lineup of girls who were performing gymnastics and dance steps and was making my way to the midway; I'd just turned a corner when i came face to face with the two little girls i saw at the entrance who just happened to be getting off a ride next to a tent that featured the word 'America'. My heart lept with excitement and after an introduction and request from their grandparents, I took a few photographs of the two girls together, and then this one ...
america, august 2014
A picture which instantly became my favorite of the day, and one of the my most favorite photographs I've ever taken for the emotions of an elegant longing mixed with nostalgia and a subtle humor; an end result that Mary Ellen pointed out as my own little gift in the world. My experience at the fair was one of a deeply felt love of the people, the place, and the real gift of exchange; lost in the making of pictures that i felt in my heart and soul, learning from a woman who's conviction of being was a gift to us all.
While I had hoped to continue on in a workshop with Mary Ellen again this year, her sudden passing in late May (ironically at the beginning of summer) left me mute. And as the center for photography is honoring Mary Ellen with a remembrance on the weekend that she led workshops for so many years, I was asked to contribute a few words on what she gave me...what i took away from my brief little time with her. It was in the remembering that i revisited all those thoughts and emotions and feelings and impressions. She was a blessing and I'll treasure the experience I had with her for the rest of my life. I've included my remembrance below the picture she allowed me to take at the end of the day.
mary ellen mark, august 31, 2014
Mary Ellen’s impact on me in part was to expand my view with a strength of purpose and intent. She helped me see more of what I do naturally and how to push beyond my comfort zone. I was struck by the depth and breadth of her work and her discipline in the edit. In all, I took away the sincerity of her truths – a real love of the artform and a reverence for her subjects.
The photographs i took during my time at the fair have become etched into my DNA for all they represent to me - symbols of hope and persistence, of dusting oneself off and going forward or realizing that sometimes, you have to go through the agony within to see the beauty on the other side; to the people who trusted me and allowed me to glimpse into their presence of being, an exchange i felt so deeply I cried with gratitude on the long drive back home. For an experience that has taught me that photographing is in the exchange and the giving, here are the gifts i received.
three months of bliss
the last days of white light ... a golden luminescence that begins in a long stretch to neverland and its buried gifts.
the last days of white light ... a golden luminescence that begins in a long stretch to neverland and its buried gifts. i long to press rewind/play ... to dig again for the treasures i've found along the way. for despite the hooks and reels and sweat and tear of exhaustion, it is the wonderment of sand, salt and spray that catches my breath. it is the burrowing my feet into sand and shell bits, turning my face into the endless spray, dipping my toes into waters near and far.
the tide swirl, holgate. long beach island | 2015
i've often felt a heavy heart as this season of wonderland fades, clinging onto each last moment despite the ever subtle wave of chill on the breeze. and though i will most likely pass a few tears at the magnificence of all this time held for me, i will drink in the memories with a long deep breath and release them back. for though this time of year is perhaps the most difficult to let go of, it is because its nectar was so sweet.
a destination wedding at home - the before
As weddings are most often a mirror reflection of the people exchanging vows, this one had a certain kind of beautiful grace in connecting us all to a greater spirit ...
With guests present from all parts of the world, there is no title more fitting to describe this multi-day celebration with two people who's presence brought everyone together in a most special way. As weddings are most often a mirror reflection of the people exchanging vows, this one had a certain kind of beautiful grace in connecting us all to a greater spirit ... one that we all took away with us in the form of a book written by the bride (who is an author and one i've worked with and photographed for many years) with her new name inscribed on the cover.
two days before - mens/ladies day
the story of this couple's beginning spanned four days of festivities which began two days before as guests traveled from east, west and north coasts as well as europe and south america so this day was set up for the men (who had a game of soccer in the morning, an afternoon of golf and an evening barbeque), a fair amount of the day time for me and the bride to visit the florist - the flower shop at nob hill, the immaculate conception church of albuquerque and the reception venue los poblanos where we had a chance meeting with executive chef jonathan perno followed by an evening at home poolside with the ladies including the groom's mom and family from argentina, the bride's sister and wife, and friends from near and far for food, warmth and a lot of laughter.
the day before - rehearsal & party
the next day - the one before the wedding - the couple invited everyone who'd traveled to join them for the church rehearsal followed by an evening reception at the couple's home. a gathering that was both casual and intimate and fostered a closeness among the guests who were able to spend time with and get to know each other before the formalities and festivities of the following day.
i will end this segment by sharing a story from the end of the day where i found myself looking through a large photobook on the coffee table filled with beautiful black and white photographs of the grooms parents at their wedding. while i knew the groom was the son of david patrick rusk, the lineage didn't register as this made him the grandson of david dean rusk; (in case you didn't click the link or recognize the name, dean rusk was the secretary of state under president kennedy and president johnson). so, his parent's wedding was not only photographed by press photographers and featured in time life magazine, it was actually a double wedding ceremony with his mom and her sister held in argentina.
1961 photograph of david & delcia rusk - parents of groom
i've truly never seen anything quite like those photographs and being that i grew up with time life magazine and carry those black and white images deep in my heart, i was somewhat overwhelmed (and slightly terrified at the prospect before me). while the following photograph of his mom (in the middle), and her sister with husband was taken before i knew the history, i think it carries the strength, dignity, joyfulness and grace of those i saw in the time life photographs taken of them in 1961.
while this day ended on a high note that was both daunting and inspiring...one can only do what is before them. somehow sleep and rest as deeply as one can and be all that one can be the following day for the two people who brought me there to document their beginning.
m+g | wedding at los poblanos
With family and friends traveling from Europe, Argentina and across the U.S., this four-day wedding felt more like a destination away than at home in Albuquerque.
With family and friends traveling from Europe, Argentina and across the U.S., this four-day wedding felt more like a destination away than at home in Albuquerque. This is the wedding story of the grandson of Dean Rusk and his author, lifestyle artist and chef bride which spanned a girls day / boys day, a rehearsal party, the wedding held at the church, the reception at Los Poblanos Historic Inn & Organic Farm and a day after brunch held at Los Poblanos. As weddings are most often a mirror reflection of the people exchanging vows, this one had a certain kind of beautiful grace in connecting us all to a greater spirit. This is the album design that told the story of this magical destination wedding at home.
and then there were two
Sometimes miracles come in pairs. ~ Richard Branson
Sometimes miracles come in pairs. ~ Richard Branson
and indeed they do and they did! despite the different personalities and meanderings - one liking to be held, one preferring to be free - they are bound together into one beautiful little bundle that moves and meanders like a happy whistling stream in the summer. fascinating and fast moving session for this family of four (+golden retriever) whom i'd met years ago at a wedding (the then best man). so it was a welcome reunion of sorts of a different kind. double the everything!
in learning a little about the day-to-day goings and comings, l learned that sunday mornings are family time on the bed - just connecting, laughing and being together - and tho tricky to obtain with two fast moving faces and a dog who was otherwise engaged, it made for a lovely portrait. in addition, we integrated a little bit of what life looks and feels like right now ... on the floor, in the high chairs, and a little outside thanks to a warmish sunday morning and honing in on the peeking, the crawling, the laughing and the movement (two girls at one year old in full exploration) ... in a word - wonderment.
we wear the mask
This year's project with Cohen Hillel Academy, Salem Academy and the Peabody Essex Museum: We Wear the Mask.
This year's project with 7th/8th graders from Cohen Hillel Academy & Salem Academy Charter School in partnership with the Peabody Essex Museum concluded in wrapping up a year long examination considering the meaning of identity and culture through a review of various types of masks from the past and present: what are different types of masks? is a mask liberating or constraining? is wearing a mask a choice of a necessity?
Guided by these questions and the museum's connecting community philosophy to "present and interpret works of art and culture in ways that connect art to the world, the program kicked off with and examination of maya angelou's poem "the mask" with ensuing sessions allowing students to reflect on the historical, culture and personal impact of masks through the use of museum exhibits, film, poetry, guided activities, presentations and discussion.
Similar to last year, the project culminated in an exhibit and presentation. The exhibit consisted of the student's creating personal masks that demonstrated an understanding of the way we define ourselves, and the way we are defined by others. They were presented in an arrangement created by the students.
For my part, I photographed each session to communicate the interaction and focus of the lesson and created a book which served as a document of the project. I also photographed each student wearing their mask and asked them to pose in a way that would mirror the feeling they wanted to express. I also photographed each student without their mask and presented those portraits separately and presented them in b/w so a viewer would be more challenged to determine the identity as the clothing wouldn't be as obvious a clue.
wedding on a farm | wolf's neck, maine
While most second photographers act as a support for a primary, I was invited to be a second photographer for this wedding as the couple had planned for two photographers not one.
While most second photographers act as a support for a primary, I was invited to be a second photographer for this wedding as the couple had planned for two photographers not one. And as the primary is a talented/celebrated wedding photographer in New England, she gave me free reign to document whatever I wanted. Which wasn't difficult as the wedding was held on a bluff at Wolfe's Neck State Park in Maine with the reception following at the Farm. Though the ceremony took place in the middle of a very hot and humid end of July day, the puffy clouds, the forest tree line, the sound and smell of the sea that was visible from every forward angle ... it was in a word, breathtaking. The reception that followed on the farm was equally rich - the lush grassy field, a meadow, the fields with cows and a barn. I could do one of these every week ... it was that beautiful.
aaron loves mommy
“But kids don't stay with you if you do it right. It's the one job where, the better you are, the more surely you won't be needed in the long run.” ― Barbara Kingsolver, Pigs in Heaven
“But kids don't stay with you if you do it right. It's the one job where, the better you are, the more surely you won't be needed in the long run.” ― Barbara Kingsolver, Pigs in Heaven
aaron loves mommy | boston, 2015
The early days are a swirl of sleepless nights and a never ending blur ... wiping faces and bums, bottles and peek-a-boo, picking up, lying down and rocking. In between them are the joys of all the firsts from the crawl to the walk to the run, and tiny teeth and little sounds that form into words ... that all to quickly turn to inquiries that give way to definitive declarations of independence. Then it all shifts into a blissful little time of the tween ... five years of blessed balance of being wanted (and needed) in ways that are less tangled and messy before life turns into pre-teen and teen ... a time when conversations become an exchange of thoughts and ideas and a reality of letting the butterfly you raised fly free into the world. I chose that quote of a job done exceptionally well translates to a need in a different kind of way. So to all the mother's i've known and take deep into my heart....hang onto these moments right now and remember the depth of their grace. Happiest of mama's day to you.
Wells Blog
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