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Statements
January 2008
In my photography, I enjoy
experimenting with different cameras and print formats. Mixing images and creating double exposures allows
for new ways of thinking about memories, places, and experiences. Our minds begin to weave a web around the two
represented images and come away with something more than one of the images
could have given us singularly.
Film is still my mode of
creation. I enjoy the tangible quality of manipulating a photo in the
darkroom. The wonder of seeing an image
appear out of the paper never ceases to amaze me, and is something I cannot get
from digital photography.
August 15, 2007
Retinal
Retinal is a series of photographs created by using a Polaroid
instant camera that I bought at Goodwill for only three dollars. The flash goes off on every
shot unless I cover it with my hand, the focus is fixed. I often use film from EBay, which can
deliver defective or expired film that results in strange light apparitions and patterns. Many
artists call this element of chance “happy accidents,” and indeed, some of my
favorite photos reveal a collaboration between me, the photographer, and the camera’s
film, which seems to be an entity working of its own accord.
Experimentation is always important in one’s work, and finding
beauty in the mundane is one of the many jobs of a photographer. When starting Retinal, I wanted to get away from the square format of photographs. The angular
corners of a square often let in extra information. A person’s field of vision is
elliptical, and when composing a photograph, it’s usually an element that
strikes me. In order to focus on that initial element of interest, I created a circular filter
for my Polaroid camera using blue painter’s tape and a hand-held hole-punch.
The elliptical format references the human retina. The things that
strike your fancy through any day may be very plain: an unlabeled sign, a lost apple, the
contrast of two colors. Seeing these sights is not about holding up a square viewfinder to
“frame the shot”; it is about seeing an element that strikes your mind and makes
you think, recall, wonder, compare, and desire to capture that element for future reference. Even people who are incapable of seeing “outside the box” are said to suffer of a
condition that suggests an elliptical plane of sight: tunnel vision.
I consider myself blessed with sight – my appreciation of vision
has always been one of the driving forces behind my desire to create art. The act of seeing,
even the ordinary, offers us the chance to revel in the beauty we find in small places and
spaces, yielding an exhilaration that keeps us all believing in the magic and gratification of
trying to save the world in a photo.
I’ve been working with mixed media and feminist issues since the beginning of 2006. About 6 months into this new focus of my work, I read The Feminine Mystique, by Betty
Friedan (©1963). This book greatly influenced my work in the following months, and
continues to spur mental reflection about the feminine mystique’s presence in my past,
clinging to the women that I grew up around, unconsciously sliding from the tongues of
relatives, friends’ parents, children’s books, or other young girls. There were
many minds in my small home town that had not escaped the idea of the feminine mystique that
“makes certain concrete, finite, domestic aspects of feminine existence…into a
religion, a pattern by which all women must now live or deny their femininity.” (Friedan,
38)
Incorporated with painting and photography, I use embroidery, sewing, and fabrics deliberately,
as a means of referencing my implied domestic purpose. I want to use these techniques in a way
that contradicts the traditional “pretty in pink” pastimes of women. I also use
symbols and patterns to suggest particular stories, games, and moral obligations (religion?). Stories are a very important aspect of my work, and my work questions, challenges, and rejects
stories of marriage, love at first sight, knights in shining armor, physical beauty, sex as a
means of purpose, motherhood, religious righteousness, and patriotism. I consider these
stories catalysts for societal rights and rituals that distinctly influence our perception of
identity.
Viewers of my work should recall stories from their lives that raised questions about their
purpose and expectations about themselves and others. I want people to think about the way we
view one another – the way gender affects our identity. Hopefully, my work will spur
people to recognize if they have believed stories, not truths, and inspire change in the way
they think about themselves or the other gender. I want people to become empowered, more
confident, less apologetic, more honest, and brave. I don’t want people to be jerks. I
don’t want to be a jerk.
But we can’t have everything now, can we?
Can we?
I am concerned with the tainted circumstances that surround
contemporary life; therefore, I’m working to
communicate in a way that goes beyond simple visual stimulation. I
believe art has a social obligation to comment and
interact with the workings of society, so
I’m shifting the focus of my work to consider political and social issues. These
issues
stem from stories that we tell one another in order to create citizen and
individual identities, including gender roles.
My work has become dark, sensual, and more intimate in the past
year as I have combined photography and
painting. I use a feminist voice in an attempt to tell stories powerfully
– engaging traditional female art forms, such as
embroidery and sewing. The delicate subtleties that undulate within my
work suggest the fragile state of my condition – the
human condition of remembering, examining, questioning, and rejecting the
identities that I adopted, or that were prescribed
by my culture.
My intent is to inspire contemplation in the viewer of my
work. Sometimes thought leads to a thirst for knowledge,
which leads to enlightenment, surprise, disgust, or outrage. These
emotions may inspire social change, and through social
change we may find new stories that modify our identities and ways of
living with one another. I want people to think.
2005 Statement
Nature
and poetry have been integral elements of my life since I was a little girl. I grew up in the
country, miles from town, and most of my childhood games including playing around trees. I also
started writing poetry at a young age and have not been able to escape the recurring patterns that
exist in nature as well as in poetry. Consequently, my work focuses on rhythm, pattern and color
to evoke feelings of nature and poetry.
Meditating on several lines of a poem gives my work something to grow from. The pattern of
language involves prefixes, suffixes, periods, commas, dashes and so on. The result of meditating
on these linguistic patterns is often a series of flowing lines, reminiscent of trees or
watersheds, which tend to take on decorative qualities and are my interpretation of the feeling
created by a poem. My patterns and designs also create otherworldly environments where the shift
from positive to negative space is more conducive to imaginative thinking than direct
representation would be.
Poetry has a way of arranging words so as to smash the idea of the “sound bite,” and
nature provides us with a place for escape and thinking. The power of poetic rhythm and pattern,
or broken pattern, creates intersections where ideas overlap and meet. The intense
feelings and ponderings that appear in these intersections give us insight, and the reflection that
occurs can create thoughts to change the status quo. Any one of my works is inspired by a certain
poem, but that is only my starting point; the viewers must travel through my memories to find their
own.
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