Needle In The Hay

Copyright © Andrew Cutraro

Lately, I hadn’t seen much work in the field of photojournalism that was inspiring to me until I came across this image from Andrew Cutraro taken during the Iraq War in 2003. From some of his other work I’ve seen, it appears he was there at the height of the war and during the fall of Baghdad. I’m sure an assignment like that brings out many contradictory emotions in the photographer: there is of course fear for your own life and the people around you, but I also imagine there is a level of excitement at being in the thick of so much action and truly capturing battle. And with that excitement there must also be guilt for feeling this way amidst a group of soldiers who are doing the heavy lifting for a variety of reasons.

Every time I see a photo of a soldier at war, I wonder who they are and how they got there…and if they are thinking the same thing. There are countless photographs taken of men and women at war that pass by without a second glance, and then there are times when you just can’t look away. That’s how I feel about Cutraro’s photograph above. Who is the man in the mask? Or is he even a man at all, perhaps still a teenager? Questions that may never be answered, including what his ultimate fate was.

From Hell

Luminous

One of my Christmas presents this year was a book of medical, daguerreotype photographs put out by The Mütter Museum of Philadelphia. Usually most photography from the period of 1860-1900 has a quality that is somewhat disturbing because the people often look a bit creepy. They almost look like they can jump out at you. This Victorian era, medical experimentation is fascinating because it was so barbaric and and I’m fairly certain the children born with these deformities were treated like sub-humans who were not meant to be treated as anything more than frogs to be cut open and observed. This was still a time where if someone was born with a major deformity then they were often branded as a creation of the devil, after all we used to burn people at the stake for little more than personality issues.

You’ve Come A Long Way, Baby

Copyright © Heather Johnson

Heather Johnson’s series on the small beach community of Oak Beach in New York couldn’t be timelier. The photos have a certain kitsch value that seems to be making a comeback with shows like The Jersey Shore on MTV gaining so much pop culture momentum and success for the outlandish characters being introduced to the public. While it’s true that the people in this photo series and on that show may seem tacky, they are still people and not some strange alien race invading the world to show us a new lifestyle. There’s a real cultural symbolism to what you’re seeing (this is not sarcasm). Johnson has tapped into the middle-class vacationer who mostly just wants to have a good time, get a good tan and be comfortable amidst friends and family.

Copyright © Heather Johnson

I think a project like this encourages us to be less judgmental and yet it also taps into the schadenfreude we have developed over the past ten years of watching so many people expose themselves on television. I mean look at how these people are posing! This is what a decade of learned exhibitionism will do to a society. I love how Heather had so much luck getting these people to pose for her in such open and honest ways; I wish I had more luck approaching people I want to photograph. I usually have to be so stealth about it because if I tell someone I want to take their picture, they immediately do those things people do when a camera is aimed at them. They purse their lips, raise an eyebrow and mostly try to look attractive when in reality I want to take their picture for reasons having nothing to do with superficial things like beauty. Getting back to Heather, I’ll be interested to see how this series continues to grow and if eventually she brings in other beach communities to the fold. Now is definitely the time to start developing this on a bigger level.

Isolation

Copyright © Ben Huff

Alaska-based photographer Ben Huff uses this photo to greet visitors on his website and if I hadn’t just experienced my first big snow storm in years…and experienced it as a new photographer, then I probably would’ve passed by Huff’s image without notice and without any appreciation for what it’s like to take pictures in conditions like that. When you’re staring out the window watching the snow fall, it looks like it’s going to be so easy to complete an image that reflects the winter wonderland you can see with your own eyes. But when I actually got out there that first night, it was almost impossible–the snow was still coming down and it was exhausting just to walk a few feet. Snow is probably the most deceiving weather condition to work in, it looks so beautiful and so fluffy, but there are so many variables that have to line up just so you can capture something truly striking.

I don’t know what Ben’s own view is on this, but I imagine working in such harsh weather conditions all the time has to be liberating as much as it is frustrating. Being a creative person who goes to battle with all the elements working against you and still walking away with a great image has to be a great feeling. There’s an isolation in Huff’s work that shines through, but I like it. He somehow manages to convey what it means to be a loner without photographing people with sad faces or darkly lit rooms, it’s all in the scenery. It’s the reality he deals with living in a place known for being dark and cold–the mood comes across naturally.

Hit Pause And Reset

So on Saturday we got close to twenty-four inches of snow, which meant that on Sunday I had the depressing task of digging my car out. It was practically embedded into this massive hill of snow, I took one look at that situation and was like damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! Then I remembered I had my camera and this was the first time I’ve had a high quality camera when it snowed. So I took advantage and walked around snapping away. And when it snows, it’s kind of like hitting reset; you fall asleep and wake up to two different realities.

All images © Jeffrey Michael Smith

Elizabeth Fleming Interview

Copyright © Elizabeth Fleming

I first came into contact with the work of Elizabeth Fleming through a piece she contributed to for Aline Smithson called Photographing Family. Her work stuck out to me because her photos capture what it means to be a child and what it means to live in a child-centered household, which is something very familiar. Her ongoing project, “Life is a series of small moments,” is a sort of love story to that short period of imaginative innocence we all, hopefully, experienced. It also reinforces the idea that life may be fleeting, but we can still hang on to the little things because in the end that’s all that’s left. Like in the final scene of HBO’s Six Feet Under, as Claire prepares to photograph her family before she takes off into the world, and her brother Nate comes up behind her and says, “You can’t take a picture of this—it’s already gone.” She pauses but takes the picture anyway, and like Fleming she reminds us that the small moments do matter.

Elizabeth Fleming was born in the suburbs of Philadelphia in 1975. After earning her BFA in photography with honors–from Washington University in St. Louis in 1997–she moved to Brooklyn and worked for a time in photo editing in Manhattan. She went on to receive her MFA in 2001 from the Photography, Video and Related Media department at the School of Musical Arts, and following graduation was the Biennial Assistant for the Whitney Museum before leaving to focus on her own creative endeavors. Soon after, she became a mother and moved to the suburbs of New Jersey, where she lives with her husband and two young daughters.

Academy A: When viewing “Life is a series of small moments,” I instantly felt like I was transported back to my own childhood in a weird way. You really capture the minutia of life so well, but how do you know which moments are worth capturing for this series?

Enjoy The Silence

Copyright © Gregory Krum

I was browsing 20×200 the other day and decided to search for a photograph or piece of art that had a blue theme and then this popped up. Gregory Krum’s Chateau Pool instantly had me yearning for summer. It’s extremely cold out and our first snow is starting to fall as I write this and I just miss summer. What do you feel when you look at this image? I feel freedom, when I’m in a pool floating on my back, I feel so numb…but in a good way. Like when you get dental surgery and they give you Percocets and your whole body just stops. Summer is usually the time when I can just shut everything out and chill, I want that right now. Finals have ended at school and I have a bit of break, but I still have five million other things to prepare for. And as I get older, there really are no breaks anymore, it all just bleeds together.

It’s not just this picture either, Krum has the ability to find—I don’t know—truth? Truth in the little things no one really takes the time to notice, even in our own homes. He cuts through the rubbish and just makes you feel something. I want to look at a picture and feel something real and unique, but I don’t always want to be repulsed and emotional about it. Sometimes I just want to feel calm—stillness is underrated. Like in Pulp Fiction when Mia says to Vincent, “That’s when you know you’ve found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.” Krum understands this and that in itself is special in a time when people seem to think the only way to make an impact is to shove it down your throat.

Wasteland

31 October 2009, 13:55, Berlin, NJ

All images © Jeffrey Michael Smith

In This Moment

Copyright © Caroll Taveras

The day after President Barack Obama’s inauguration, photographer Caroll Taveras set up a photo studio in downtown Brooklyn where she was offering portrait sessions for $5 a piece. After two months, Taveras had photographed over 250 faces that represented America, or at least the dream of America. A place that has always been–and probably always will be–an oasis for various cultures to come together and make a life, or start one over. In these faces, one sees a promise of the future, of course the direction of the future is always changing but I believe Taveras captured a moment in time that will never be duplicated. I used to think history always had a way of repeating itself, but after looking at this series, I now think it’s possible that an event can happen that is totally unique and I’m grateful I was alive to see it. Even if it was brief…

Insurgentes

Steven Wilson - Lasse Hoile

The cover art for Steven Wilson’s first solo album entitled Insurgentes is the perfect representation of the resurgence of surrealism. A bold saturation of colors aided by a dark and ominous tone with a man in a gas mask can make any variety of statements…this is up to a person to interpret individually, depending on their personal or political views. Besides being a great album, it goes deeper and Wilson mixes art with music to make the kind of collaboration that makes people to want to buy CD’s or records again. It’s more than just tracks, it’s when they offer an experience–this is the key.

Wilson teamed up with photographer Lasse Hoile to create a surrealisitc set of portraits to capture the feel of the music he was composing. Hoile’s work is must see–remember the Nine Inch Nails video for Closer? This is basically what his work reminds me of, a series of disturbingly beautiful scenes that play out in a nightmare. The rest of Hoile’s work is available in the CD/DVD combo of Insurgentes, it’s an unforgettable journey through photography, audio and video.