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?
Elizabeth Fleming: I think it’s been an organic process–when I first started the series I shot more than I do now. Many of my early pictures were “throwaways” because they seemed too ordinary; there wasn’t enough that was evocative about them. After a while I found that I could almost anticipate when something striking was about to occur. But I also think part of it is just the way I’ve always seen the world–the small strange things jump out at me. If someone is sitting in an awkward position I find it fascinating; I like cracks in walls and a certain quality of light; I like everyday things that have small quirks. I enjoy separating out a little detail from the whole, and much of that is instinctive.
Copyright © Elizabeth Fleming
Academy A: What kind of literature are you inspired by? Any children’s books? I couldn’t help but think of “Where the Wild Things Are” when viewing the pirate ship laundry basket you photographed. It was something very whimsical and clearly from inside a child’s mind.
EF: I tend to love somewhat dark stories–pieces that start off with something ordinary, even pleasant, and then turn towards stranger territory. Flannery O’Connor is the master of this; Alice Munro and John Cheever are other favorites. I love writers who are able to transform everyday situations into larger allegories.
Interestingly, before I had my girls I did a series that was based on children’s stories, fairy tales, and the like. I did a lot of research and reading to find inspiration, and I think that sensibility filtered into what came after. My favorite Sendak story is actually “Outside Over There”–I would say that was a big influence, particularly since the protagonist is a girl. I like that you make an association between the basket and the fantasy world of children’s stories–the ship was something my daughter came up with and constructed, so it truly was from a child’s mind, and I wanted to capture the essence of her interior world.
Academy A: How far could you conceive of taking “Life is a series of small moments?” Do you imagine yourself continuing this as your children become teenagers and adults?
EF: I do feel that this is going to be a series that will grow along with my children. Inevitably of course it will change as they change, and it may even turn into a body of work that can stand separately, but it will still have the influence of “Life is…” behind it I’m sure. I feel lucky in many ways that my subject has a built-in means of not becoming static. I’m excited to see what the differences are between taking pictures of children and taking pictures of teenagers, and then comparing the two. Their adulthood is such an abstract concept that I can’t even imagine what it would be like to photograph them that far in the future. Just the idea of it freaks me out…
Copyright © Elizabeth Fleming
Academy A: As I said, I do think you capture childhood well and your children seem to be so natural and completely themselves in the photographs. I’m curious what you think of this new phenomenon in magazines and reality television where parents are pushing their kids to be so unnatural, essentially stopping their childhood before it gets started and creating a false environment?
EF: Fascinating question. In short: I think it’s very disturbing. These shows are about the parents, not about the children. The child isn’t allowed to exist in the solitary imaginative space that’s so important for his or her development. When parents parade their children in front of the media then a self-consciousness sets in–there’s a deep “unreality” to reality shows. Children can’t be natural when their parents are using them to garner attention.
I think you’re right that the false environment of reality shows stops childhood–there’s too much scrutiny. Because the parents themselves are on camera I suspect they can’t help but behave falsely; I can’t imagine you can be completely yourself with a TV crew in your face capturing your every move. There’s a lack of intimacy in it all that I find deeply troubling.
Academy A: I think the hardest part of starting out recently taking my own pictures has been finding a style that is uniquely my own. How did you find your style? When did you know you were on the right path?
EF: So much of it is instinct. I had a reviewer once tell me I had “nothing going on” in my images, that there was too much blank space and more needed to be happening. I had to throw that advice away because the spare quality–what I like to think of as quietness–is simply how I see the world.
I do think it’s helpful to look at other people’s work in order to find what you respond to, but I operate under the notion of studying in order to forget. I go very much by what tugs at me–if I have an emotional reaction then I follow it. But definitely when I first started this series, as I said before, there were many pictures that I didn’t feel worked. Slowly over time I got into a rhythm.
I also think authenticity is very important. There was a period when manipulated photographs were all the rage, and I felt a certain pressure–was this going to be the next “big thing?” Should I jump on the bandwagon? And then I realized I had no personal interest in making that kind of work. What feels authentic to you, what you find fascinating, whatever gives you what I think of as that “itchy” feeling, that’s what will give you the most creative satisfaction and allow your natural style to come through.
Copyright © Elizabeth Fleming
Academy A: How do you feel about the evolution of photography…are you a traditionalist or do you embrace all the new ways to capture an image, including cell phone photography?
EF: I think that whatever gets a particular artist excited is what they should use. I’m not a traditionalist at all–I had no problem switching from film to digital. However, I do believe in craft and I think it’s important to be able to produce very well-made images. Once again, it’s a matter of learning to forget–have the knowledge and ability to produce beautiful imagery so that it’s then a conscious decision to use the cell phone or new media and not just a gimmick. Otherwise the medium has the potential to simply be a one-trick pony.
There are always people who can shock you with something unique in any form. Painting was dead until it wasn’t–it’s all been done before yet contemporary artists still manage to make work that feels completely fresh and moving and inspiring. Originality is overrated, so I don’t believe in getting caught up in the medium itself. Whatever works to get one’s message across is just fine with me.
