Artist in Residence
September/October Journal
The Start
The School House at The Clearing
2008
Gelatin Silver Print
www.theclearing.org
This past June, in the early morning hour while sitting in a little room in Ellison Bay (the former bedroom of Jens Jensen, no less) over looking a long stretch of unwieldy meadow with grand evergreens framing the view of the bay – I spoke with Aaron, the director of the Paine Art Center, for the first time. I was at The Clearing Folk School to teach a weeklong workshop title Spaces & Places: photographing the architecture of Northern Door County.
This is when I received the invitation to become the Artist-in–Residence at the Paine Art Center in conjunction with an exhibition they are bringing in from the George Eastman House titled Seeing Ourselves: Masterpieces of American Photography.
Podcast from George Eastman House Collection
My conversation with Aaron on that bright summer morning was wonderful. He immediately put me at ease with his calm professionalism while clearly revealing a joie de vie of art and all the possibilities this future residency holds. He spoke highly of the past residents while he shared the overview of mine to come. From our conversation, a stream of inspirational pre-concepts began to flow. With my
camera close and none of life usual distractions (the beauty of being at The Clearing) I launched into a flurry of photographic endeavors keeping the prospects of the residency close to my heart and on my mind the entire summer.
Thoughts as the Artist-in Resident
Potato Harvest
In Walking Distance series
2000
Gelatin Silver Print
September is the time of the harvest. Here at my home in rural northeast Wisconsin, we are in the midst of gathering all the bounties. Tomatoes are still abundant, as are lettuces, beans, and root crops. However, the sweet corn is just coming in. Not just in our garden but in the hundreds of acres that surround our small crossroads town. Bringing to the table a freshness that can delight even the most persnickety palette.
The harvest for us is more than vegetables. There is our small but abundant apple orchard and extensive flower gardens overflowing with ornamental foliage, annuals and perennials. Including heady antique roses in their glorious second bloom.
Turning my focus 85 miles from home will be interesting. I will begin a newfound harvest… of photographs. At first I plan to let myself just discover Oshkosh: taking stock, exploring a city with fresh eyes, brushing up on the history, getting to know the lay of the land…
…all the while, looking for the poetry behind every hedge, around every corner and behind every door… that’ll open.
I’m thrilled to have this opportunity as the Artist-in Residence in conjunction with the American masterworks from the George Eastman House collection. It truly is a perfect fit.
As a traditional, fine-art, black & white photographer, I bring to this residency, by example, how a photograph comes to life -- a living and breathing photographer that makes work in the same manner as the photographers in the upcoming exhibition Seeing Ourselves: Masterpieces of American Photography.
I consider my work to have a strong American vernacular with immediate connectedness to the place I live and my family with ever-present overtones of the practical sensibilities and values of my Midwestern upbringing.
Ansel Adams
American (1902 – 1984)
Monolith, the Face of Half Dome
1927
Gelatin silver print
In April 1927, at the age of 25, Adams embarked upon his first High Trip up into the Sierra Nevada mountain range in Yosemite National Park. On this trek he made his first fully visualized photograph - Monolith, the Face of Half Dome – using a view camera, a glass plate negative and a dark red filter on his lens. Adams considered this experience a seminal moment in his development as a photographer.
Cup of Tea
Close to Home series
2006
Gelatin Silver Print
Family Bed
Close to Home series
2006
Gelatin Silver Print
Baby’s Rocker
Close to Home series
2006
Gelatin Silver Print
Close to Home series
My approach in making a body of work is to begin by previsualizing a project with a thematic outline. Pre-visualizing is a method of creating photographic images in my minds eye. This process allows me to organize my approach, before actually putting image to film, by developing a style of composition, a point-of-view or angle, style and mood. I first began using this method instinctively. However, as a self-taught photographer, I happily stumbled upon the master photographer, Ansel Adams, writings on this topic:
"Visualization is a conscious process of projecting the final photographic image in the mind before taking the first steps in actually photographing the subject. Not only do we relate to the subject itself, but we become aware of its potential as an expressive image. I am convinced that the best photographers of all aesthetic persuasions "see" their final photograph in some way before it is completed, whether by conscious visualization or through some comparable intuitive experience."
At once I was immediately validated as well as had a name for this quiet and meditative approach. I quickly incorporated pre-visualizing into my art making as a necessary starting point for all my work.
A theme is found for a project through honing in on a single topic I currently find fascinating paired with accessibility to this subject matter and the desire to tell an interesting story on this topic. I write a thorough text to guide my image making. This text has many drafts and takes many turns until it reaches the center of the concept that began as just a sketch. Once on solid ground with my project’s theme, I dive into my personal experiences and outside research on the topic. I study past images made by master photographers - discovering photographs that touch upon my subject or carry a mood that strikes me a possible "mentors" in my image making.
Only once all of these steps have been accomplished do I begin to make the photographs. A recent project, Close to Home, is a fine example to this creative process.
Work on Exhibit
Japanese forest grass
Botanical series
2008
Gelatin Silver Print
Ostrich fern
Botanical series
2008
Gelatin Silver Print
Siberian irises
Botanical series
2008
Gelatin Silver Print
At the Miller Art Museum in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin, my work is on exhibit in a group invitational titled: Focus of our Lives. Following please find the three photographs I made specifically for this exhibit that has sparked an ongoing botanical series.
Exhibition artist statement:
As a child of four, I made my first photograph in the garden - of my Grandma Delilah bent down low behind her row of prize-winning cosmos. The trust she beheld in me, the unquestioned belief - I read in her eyes - that I could use a camera, I clearly remember, was an extremely powerful and life shaping moment.
It is not a surprise that my personal “creative cosmos” would be found within photography and gardening.
The botanical photographs presented here are made in honor of my first photographic experience. Symbolically these three images represent my immediate family - a triad of man, woman and child.
The specimens having the appearance of being heavy with rain or just being watered is a conscious choice to symbolically represent the presence of Mother Nature and myself as the gardener. A collaboration of sorts - the primal forces working in tandem with the hand of (wo)man.
As in a family and gardens, in plants and people we share a rich tradition and synergy – universal and immediate. By caring, tending, feeding and honoring all within a beautiful rejuvenating daily cycle we grow in many ways. Together - intermingling everyday - with heavy doses of love and kindness, happiness and laughter, freedoms and pleasures…
This is the focus of my life.
Meditations on Spirit of Place
first light through oak branches
2008
Gelatin Silver Print
the lake
2008
Gelatin Silver Print
two oaks
2008
Gelatin Silver Print
"In photography there is a reality so subtle that it becomes more real than reality."
Alfred Stieglitz
I’m drawn to the water’s edge of Lake Winnebago.
I arrive just before dawn.
As the horizon begins to brighten -- the vastness of the lake is reveled.
My eye scans the horizon to possibly glimpse the opposite shoreline.
A dark sliver is present.
Though I’m alone, I clearly sense a heaviness of history present.
The oaks that line the shore are silent until a gust rustles their leaves.
When the light first washes over the water, it immediately stretches to reach the shore.
I witness these moments through my lens.
I look over my shoulder and see the Chief dabbled in the first light.
This has been my experience, on now my many visits to Oshkosh, in Menominee Park at daybreak. Starting in this place each visit gives me a sense of continuity. It is my launching point from which I explore.
Despite the erratic weather of Fall, I’ve discovered the city by truck and on foot. I’ve found woven within the tangible aspects of the city, the buildings and streets, bridges and parks, a quietness that seems to be brought in off the water – from all directions. A dignified presence of ‘what has been.’ It’s most clearly detectable in the earliest hours of the day. In these moments the past and the present intermingle -- the sense of time dissolves. A natural order of things seems to dictate a sense of re-found priority: light and wind, sky and land
When a city, tucked up against so much water, is named for a Native American chief, I can’t help but to be curious. Curious that possibly the forefathers of this city felt this same primal connection. Could they have attributed it to the sacredness of the land first found by the Menominee? Is this what had given Robert Grignon the resolve and courage, back on that fateful night in 1839, to see that this settlement was named for the chief?
Hiker's Monument
2008
Gelatin Silver Print
This sense of the ever-present past I also attribute to the constant reminder given by the bountiful monuments placed throughout the city. The two that have risen above the rest, for me, are The Hiker, as one enters the city, in juxtaposition with the striking Chief Oshkosh in the park. Both looking east, interestingly enough, toward the water and the dawn. The Hiker, mounted high upon a rock, seems to be part ready to return where he has come from and part ready to find new settlement. As for the chief, I feel, when I look up to him on his high pedestal, that he has always been here and will never leave. The more I contemplate this pairing; I feel it is a symbolic representation of Possibility balanced with Certainty.
After much investigation, I tracked down the individual that could give me the whole story on this amazing collection of public sculpture. Joan Mueller, Oshkosh Public Library’s assistant director, the woman that has the unofficial title of historian of this large body of work. She met with me one fine morning. She has put to memory every detail on this huge collection of indoor and outdoor works of art. Graciously she shared the history of the sculpture, going into great depth. The message I received was more then what I had expected. I left the library with an understanding that I had come to be creative in a city that has embraced diversity, education, freedoms and culture from the start. As a went around to the front of the old library building and greeted the maned sentries, knowing what great trauma and healing they have recently gone through, I laid my hand upon a foot of a lion, drenched in the high noon sun, and felt connected to the history of this place.
Markers and Tomb
2008
Gelatin Silver Print
Monument
2008
Gelatin Silver Print
Riverside Tree
2008
Gelatin Silver Print
As a child my family had always visited cemeteries. We had played a game of who can find the oldest stone. Being a minister’s kid – cemeteries never scared me; on the contrary, they were small places of sanctuary from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Almost always having the place to ourselves, we were guaranteed the best spot to stretch out and enjoy a picnic.
Riverside Cemetery immediately caught my eye. I’ve always found cemeteries fascinating: the beauty of the grounds, the architecture of the tombs, the curious settling of some of the makers. As I stroll down the aisles I read the headstones one after another hoping the next will offer up an interesting epitaph or an unusual name. What I do find is a composition of shapes that are lit perfectly. Immediately I go for my equipment, ignoring my ringing cell phone and my inner longing for a large coffee.
On an earlier visit, just as the grey skies released a fine mist, I knocked on the door of Riverside’s office. As your Mayor Tower would say, "Oshkosh is a community with a reputation of being warm and friendly," Mary Tollard, the cemetery office manger, is just that. Mrs. Tollard answered every question I had, which was many. As well as gave me a virtual tour of the property through old newspaper articles, mimeographed maps and aged directories. She even ran out to her truck to give me a new Oshkosh phone book she had intended to give to her son. As always, I asked for permission to photograph on the property and she said she saw no harm in it.
Factory Door
2008
gelatin silver print
Of the many industrial waterfront properties, I was fortunate to discover the Buckstaff Company under ideal midmorning light, seeing the potential of making many images. I tracked down the owner, who, to my delight, was immediately enthusiastic of the prospects of my photographing his company. He assigned a liaison to me and we were off. The series of buildings that make up the Buckstaff factory have limitless potential photographically. I would’ve loved to pitch a tent in the back lumberyard and made camp for a week. They have graciously given me unlimited access to the property – inside and out.
Site of First Sacrament
Menominee Park
2008
gelatin silver print
pews
2008
gelatin silver print
naive
2008
gelatin silver print
There is a small swell of land right on the edge of Lake Winnebago - a site noted that over three-hundred years earlier the missionary, Father Allouez, first preformed communion on these shores. Spirituality - and the practice of - is a very private matter. The many churches and houses of worship in Oshkosh stand in testament that this community values their faith and is connected by this common thread. I have begun submitting my requests for permission to begin photographing within these many places.
The Paine façade
2008
gelatin silver print
Zinnias
2008
gelatin silver print
As with each visit, I must at some point, in the mid-afternoon, begin to pack-up and leave this fair city to head back home. On my path out, I pass The Paine, bathed in golden light. I quickly park, unload my equipment and hope the light does not drop too low. I’m able to set up and make about 24 images – two rolls of film. I’m pleased.
weeds + fence
2008
gelatin silver print
Just when I thought I was done for the day, I spy weeds behind a chain link fence. The wind has picked up and the light is waning. I must shoot at a fast speed so the plants don’t blur but slow enough to get the depth and detail I desire. Cars rush by as they pick up momentum to merge onto the highway. The chaos around me has my adrenaline pumping but I still manage to find the humor in the moment. Recognizing the extreme contrasts of just being in the tranquility of the museum grounds to this overlooked spot, I take a deep breath, find my center and shoot. Once I’m safely behind the wheel heading home I recall the quote by Minor White, "No matter how slow the film, Spirit always stands still long enough for the photographer It has chosen."
Connecting with Living American Masters: Jim Stone
Jim Stone
American (b. 1947)
Ada MacGregor and her squash
1984
Pigmented Inkjet Print
Zucchini
In Walking Distance series
2001
Gelatin Silver Print
In the exhibition Seeing Ourselves: Masterpieces of American Photography there are a great number of living artists in the collection. In attempts to deepen my connection to their work and understanding their process, I plan to contact several during my residency.
Here is a portion of my letter to Mr. Stone followed by his response:
After my greeting + introductions…
In my residency – a free formed experience – I have jumped in, with both feet, studying the master photographers behind the masterworks in this exhibition.
I have recently been reading extensively on Stieglitz. As you can well image, I have discovered many details beyond the general knowledge of the man, his galleries & exhibitions, private life and philosophies. Curiously, what has struck me the most, is how so many photographers sought him out to connect with this larger than life personality, to tap into his energy and share their mutual excitement of the medium. In this day and age, other than in a university setting, I haven’t found this type of gathering. The deeper I read into the volumes I’ve gathered, the more I feel that this type of connection is vital in the growth of the student as well as the master.
I've had a friendship with David Plowden, a fellow Midwesterner, before The Paine extended the invitation. (Serendipitously, an image of his in the exhibit is my favorite,) With this discovery – I had an idea…
In my residency, I’d like to reach out to a hand-full of master photographers that have work represented in this exhibition from The George Eastman House. Because my relationship with David, as an emerging photographer, has been so powerful as well as deepen my resolve to stick to traditional photography, I thought why not chance the possibility that others would be receptive.
I'm exploring photographically the theme of "Seeing Ourselves." As classic art-school training tool, I plan to let the images of this exhibition be my guide:
To homage.
As launching points.
Or possibly, windows in which I look through to view my landscape.
And so - I pose the question to you…
What are your feelings on the homage?
As well as, have you made homage in your work?
And, if so, please share with me your process, thoughts, inspirational master photographers and possibly even site your individual images you’ve made in this manner.
After some small talk, I end by saying…
Nevertheless, in the end, it is our shared love of large squash (in our work) I felt as good as any common ground to begin this conversation.
Mr. Stone’s response in full:
Hi Suzanne,
Thanks for finding me, for your kind words, and especially for the squash picture. I love it. Coincidentally, I was on my way to Oshkosh (for the fly-in) when I met Ada and made my own squash picture. To answer what I think is your question, I am an insatiable bibliophile, with a library of probably 5000 photobooks (it is truly a danger to live near PhotoEye) so I know the work of a massive number of photographers. I can't be conscious without seeing something that reminds me of another's image. But direct homage, in my case, takes the form of parody. You can find some of my Historiostomy series on my web site. Good luck making your residency productive.
All the Best,
Jim
Jim Stone turned to photography while studying engineering at MIT. His photographs have been exhibited and published internationally, and collected by the Museum of Modern Art, Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts, the Smithsonian American Art Museum, and the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, among many others. Currently he is Associate Professor of Photography at the University of New Mexico.
From Dawn Until Dusk – the workshop
Bjorklunden’s Boynton Chapel
barn
Painting Studio
log house
Cana Island lighthouse
white picket fence
Ellison Bay at twilight
On Saturday, September 20th, I lead a workshop offered through the Peninsula Art School titled: From Dawn Until Dusk. This one-day photographic intensive meet at 5:30 am, before dawn, in the unlit parking lot of Peninsula Art School. We consolidated our gear and headed to Cave Point to greet the first light. Fifteen sites later, clocking 15 hours of shooting and logging almost 135 miles this workshop was not for the faint of heart. The day was designed for the photographer that hasn’t had the time or opportunity to make artful images in Door County. A compressed and streamlined itinerary allowed participants to experience the best of Northern Door County. From dawn to dusk we sought to capture the photographic magic in Door County’s most notable architecture, rural landscape, historic towns and natural wonders.
Books
Reading and rereading, discovering and rediscovering books on photography are a passion and a large part of my process as a photographer. A day doesn’t pass that I don’t open a monograph to find a photograph to meditate upon or page through a book to find a moving passage that I can savor, contemplate, bring to my work. Here is a compiled list of books I have referenced in these first few months:
Alfred Stieglitz: The Key Set
The Alfred Stieglitz Collection of Photographs - Volumes One & Two
National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.
By Sarah Greenough
Harry N. Abrams, Inc
2002On the Art of Fixing a Shadow: 150 Years of Photography
National Gallery of Art & The Art Institute of Chicago
By Sarah Greenough, David Travis and Joel Snyder
Little, Brown & Company
1989Modern Art and America: Alfred Stieglitz and His New York Galleries
By Sarah Greenough
Bullfinch Press
2000Ansel Adams: 400 Photographs
Edited by Andrea G. Stillman
Little, Brown and Company
2007Public Monuments, Parks and Art Gifts given to the City of Oshkosh
Published by The Daily Northwestern
1919Oshkosh at 150 : An Illustrated History of Oshkosh
Michael J. Goc
New Past Press
2003
To introduce my daughter to the concept of "seeing ourselves" through an exhibit of art, I perused the following book with her:
The Family of Man
Created by Edward Steichen for the Museum of Modern Art
Prologue by Carl Sandburg
Maco Magazine Corporation
1955
To quote Carl Sandburg from the prologue –
"There is only one man in the world and his name is All Men.
There is only one woman in the world and her name is All Women.
There is only one child in the world and the child’s name is All Children.
A camera testament,
a drama of the grand canyon of humanity,
an epic woven of fun, mystery and holiness – here is the Family of Man"
End Notes
I find myself planning for transition on this Halloween Eve as I ready a costume so my daughter may haunt the halls of her school as a wicked witch. Transition because of the ever-dropping temperatures. Planning on shifting to work indoors more than out.
The strangest thing… just a few days back - with my daughter along for the day – as we were driving on the bridge over Lake Butte des Mortes, she calls out from the back seat, "Mommy, a black swan!" I said. "It couldn’t be, they’re from Australia, it must be a cormorant." Later that day when we again found ourselves on the same bridge, I saw with my own eyes, an elegant black swan serenely floating in a tiny bay. I look back at my daughter, our eyes meet, then she casually says " ‘told yah it was a swan." When she looked back out the window, with a smile on her face, she said "It must be dressed for Halloween."
Continue to November/December Journal