How Did I Get Here? (Part One, Let's Get Dark)

The Secret Keepers series of old, decaying dolls comes in a couple of different flavors. The first is the color series; what you see is what you get.

The second is entitled Spirits of the Secret Keepers because they are more haunting in black and white and with a solarization effect. (I've removed the color version from my website, at least for awhile.)

When the Spirits portfolio was reviewed by Tony Brannon of George Eastman House (the world's preeminent museum of photography) at the Review Santa Fe event, he didn't think they were dark enough. He wasn't referring to how they are printed, he meant I didn't dig deep enough to the dark side. That surprised me. Considering how many people can't even bear to look at them, how much darker can they be?

A lot darker, apparently, according to Tony who was obviously projecting his own shadows. "Of course, then...." He flipped over the image of Miguel, one of the scariest of the bunch to reveal the next print, Jacob, who is even scarier. "...then...they wouldn't be very sellable." Believe me, they're not moving like hotcakes as it is.

"Do you do this to them?" he asked, wondering if I am responsible for the cracks and splits, stains, etc. on the dolls. "No" I said, and explained that the point of the series is to find those that have aged naturally, or damaged by the previous owner from too much loving and handling or from lack of love, even abuse. Hence the name. They keep secrets (how did they come to look like this?) and I think they are provocative.

But Tony thought I should damage them, break them, smash them, inflict my own dark side onto these little non-humans. "I don't think I'm angry enough" I mumbled but realized that I should consider doing what he said.

As with all of the suggestions I received from reviewers at RSF, I thought it through and in this case decided to give it a try. Off I went to find a doll not yet photographed. Am I to smash her face? Burn it? Stain it or...?

Part two of this entry, detailing the results of my experiment, will appear in a few days. In the meantime, here is the newest "Spirit" photograph. Her name is Lakshmi, found in the dirt in Pushkar, India.

Passion for Photography

What are you passionate about? Not counting family, what makes your heart sing, makes you smile when no one is looking?

These thoughts crossed my mind while I was processing my Timeless India portfolio for the Review Santa Fe event in June. It was so exciting for me to convert the colorful images to black and white, exciting to tweak the sliders to give them the look of an antique plate. And looking at these people once again on my screen excited me. I touched the screen where the little girl's face looked up at me and I recalled being in her village in Rajasthan. I fell back into my chair and grinned from ear to ear remembering an exchange with the Gujurati Hijaras.

What I love about travel photography is that is gathers all the things I feel most passionate about: experiencing something new, meeting people from cultures very different from mine, making photographs and later processing them, then sharing the experience with others. This is my raison d'etre'.

Let me tell you a little bit about the hijaras of India. For the most part they are eunuchs, but some are transvestites who have opted into this way of life. The hijaras in the photograph below (I have posted both the color photo and the black and white version from Timeless India) had low voices so we assumed that they fell into the latter category. They are considered to be auspicious people and are welcome at weddings and births to offer their powerful blessings - for a fee, of course. Lisl Dennis and I offered these two hijaras twice their normal fee to sit and pose for us - 40 cents! - for the honor to have them sit for a moment on the stoop of a shop in a small village in Gujarat. I love their gestures and the intense eye contact. The moment we finished photographing them, the Muslim call to prayer wafted through the village and I realized...I am living my dream; this is such a glorious moment.

Tell me one of your glorious moments!

Timeless India

Just last night, I found out that my photographic series "Timeless India" was accepted into Review Santa Fe. I was thrilled! RSF is a prestigious portfolio review event that involves meeting with influential people such as gallery owners, museum curators, publishers, etc. This event will occur the first weekend in June, so I have plenty of time to gather promotional materials and organize my thoughts.

India is such a colorful place that I was surprised to find certain images worked better in black and white or sepia. I sifted through hundreds of images to experiment. Here are a few of my favorites. In the case of the photo of women stooping to sweep leaves, I think color and black and white work equally well. What do you think? The beggar in front of the wall turned away from me when he saw my camera, but I love that he is looking perhaps wistfully at adverts for places he could never go. Or maybe he wasn't really looking at them at all. The musician, the weaver, the little girl with such intense eyes...without color, there is nothing to distract from the essence of these images.

Reflections on the Taj Mahal and What Is and Isn't Awesome

The Taj Mahal is one of the most beautiful structures in the world by pretty much anyone's standards. Although it is dramatic to see it from the vantage point that provides the typical frontal view, I was most in awe standing close to this famous mausoleum that combines Persian, Ottoman, Indian and Islamic architecture. Dwarfed by it's massive walls and gliding my hand across the cool marble surface, it occurred to me that the word "awesome" gets overused.  The Taj Mahal is awesome. That latest electronic gadget or the fact that I am going to Bali next week is not awesome. 

While I was strolling the grounds and finding interesting views, I was often approached by Indian men who would want to guide me to the best places from which to take a photo. Of course, they were the typical places where crowds of people gathered so they could all snap the same photo. Most Indians speak English, but these men did not. They just couldn't understand why I would want to be crouched in the dirt under the tree at the side, or standing directly beneath the Taj Mahal looking up. I kept repeating "but I don't want to take a photo from there." They wanted to be paid for their ineffectual efforts and eventually left me alone.

As you can see I most certainly did take a typical photograph of the Taj Mahal. I overheard someone complaining that it was too misty that morning, but I relished the opportunity to see it any light. You can see in one of the photos that the mist is rising from the Yamuna River which flows behind the Taj..