Part Three: Meet Blueberry

At Review Santa Fe, Tony Bannon from the George Eastman House suggested I get "darker" with my doll photos. He thought maybe I should remove the dash of color in their faces. Maybe I should consider inflicting my own dark side by - oh, how shall I say it? - aggressively modifying their faces.

For this experiment I used a doll's head to which I never emotionally connected. It had never been loved. It may have been old but it was pristine, blank; it didn't belong to a body. It didn't have eyes.

Poor Blueberry. First, I smashed and burned her. Then I meticulously placed the fruit after which she was named onto strategic parts of her face and let them sit overnight. Finally I applied oil crayons as if I were a five year old trying to negotiate lipstick and eyeliner.

This was a fun exercise, but it didn't mean anything to me. Maybe I would do it again, but only if a doll's face strikes me as being more of a palette than a character, as Blueberry's did.

For the first photograph shown here I used the same technique as with the Spirits of the Secret Keepers but like many dolls before her, the process doesn't work at all. It is so ineffective, in fact, that I considered not posting it. Howevert, it's nice to illustrate how things work - or not - and to give the whole picture. The second photo is straight color, and the third is black and white.

Do you like her?
If so, do you like her in color or in black and white?
If you don't like her, why not?

What should I do with Blueberry now? Maybe I'll prop her up somewhere in my studio to remind me to challenge myself, not just in my art but in every aspect of my life. Thanks, Tony!

How Did I Get Here? (Part Two: If I Had a Hammer)

Tony Bannon of George Eastman House challenged me to dig deeper into my dark side with the Spirits of the Secret Keepers series. He suggested I inflict damage on the dolls, and although that defeats the purpose of the series, or at least how I've thought of the series, I decided to give it a try.

The bin of yet-to-be-photographed doll heads is in my studio. They are all looking at me expectantly. Is it my turn yet? Try as I might, I cannot view them as inanimate objects but rather as personalities with various levels of worthiness. Usually some are more worthy than others of being photographed but now I'm having to decide: who is worthy of being abused? With hammer in hand, here I am choosing whose head to smash and it feels really unnatural.

Get over it and choose you big wuss!

Ah, there's a candidate.

The head is placed between a folded towel on the coffee table in my living room. This is a safer way to hammer, right? Don't want any pieces of her skull flying around the room and putting someone's eye out. (Plus, I won't be able to see her face as I strike.) I'm wanting to feel angry about something but can't conjure anything. I turn on the television thinking that some Law & Order or Cops episode will put me in the mood and Farrah's Story is about to start. As a cancer survivor, perhaps I can get pissed off that I got cancer and had to endure chemotherapy. But I was never pissed off in the first place, just frightened. Besides, that was nineteen years ago and I'm a survivor, how angry can I be? Still, watching the needle go into her arm reminds me of how sick I felt whenever the chemo drugs flowed into my veins and I use this as an excuse to smash the doll.

Boy, what a wimp. I'm hitting her but she's not breaking. Peeking into the towel I see her cheerful little smile and the glint in her eyes. It takes several times, but the only thing that breaks is the back of her head, and her eyes fall out. That's it. I'm done. If I were living a Twilight Zone episode her smile would have turned into a frown and she would have been whimpering "Mama, mamaaaaaaaaa."

A couple of days later I catch a glimpse of a recent Ebay purchase. What was I thinking? It's one of those porcelain bisque doll heads that looks fresh out of the factory. She never had a body, if indeed it's even a she, and was surely never loved. I hate it.

A towel isn't necessary here, I just smash her head for instant success. Big pieces of her skull break off and I get slightly giddy. The flicker of a candle catches my eye so I hold her face down over the flame. A steel brush, some blueberries thawing in a bowl, a red crayon...time to get painterly! (Still undecided how I feel about that word.)



My fascination with the dolls I choose to photograph has as much to do with the mystery behind them as the way they look. Momentary giddiness aside, nothing felt particularly satisfying about altering them for photographic purposes. There are no kept secrets here; I know a blueberry stain when I see one. That being said, I love Michael DeMeng's approach to altering dolls for assemblages, and I do have some dolls set aside for that purpose. What's the difference? Still pondering that question.

Blueberry (this is what I've nicknamed the porcelain doll) is still "cooking." When she's done I'll photograph her as I've done the others, turning her head this way and that, chin up, chin down, from above and from below, and see if she holds a candle to my other pieces, if you catch my drift.

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.

Review Santa Fe, Session One

It's exhilarating to be around so many exceptional photographers. Except for the one or two individuals who deem themselves better than the rest of us (letting us know with snide remarks and noses to the ceiling) we are not feeling so competitive but rather like we are commiserating with each other. Lovely people, many who I'd love to talk with for more than three minutes before we are swept away to a consultation.

I had two consults this morning, both filled with helpful advice and exciting, promising leads. Although I was accepted on the basis of the Timeless India portfolio, I brought the very different Spirits of the Secret Keepers portfolio as well. It is of course a pleasure to have someone gush over the work, but in this forum it's even better to hear an honest critique. Fortunately the advice has not been to stop taking photographs.

We have twenty minutes with each individual and it sure felt like five. Is this like speed dating? Where was the candle? And the rose? And chocolate? I want chocolate!

This afternoon I have one meeting, and then later on there is a public viewing of portfolios at the Center for Contemporary Art from 5pm – 8pm. If the public event is anything like last years, which I attended as an observer, it will be crazy wonderful.

Tomorrow will be grueling, with seven or eight meetings during the day and then the Eighth CCA Annual Photography Auction from 6:30pm – 9:30pm.

Photograph: "Katie John" from Spirits of the Secret Keepers series.

Spirits of the Secret Keepers

Above, Katie John

Oh, those crumbling, crackling, aging, molding doll faces! What does my love of them say about me? I'm still trying to come up with a concise "artists statement" about that. I suspect that it has more to do with rejecting perfection than embracing decomposition but perhaps there is no difference between the two.

My Secret Keepers series has been a way to look intimately into the faces of characters I've met along the way, literally if not figuratively. They are so named because these particular inanimate beings hold countless secrets. These dolls were loved, coddled, thrown, lost. They overheard quiet giggles, jubilant birthday parties, arguments and pillow-muffled sobs. They witnessed unspeakable pain and unconditional love.

Recently I began processing the photos in a different way. Converting them to black and white, save for a feature or two, brings a haunting interpretation. Solarizing them accentuates the crevices and gives surreal outlines to what has become more a personality than a doll. The reaction is immediate; Are you repulsed? Feeling maternal? Are you yearning for your own innocence or you do you simply wonder what the story is behind each creature? Because these images are more haunting than the original series, I call them Spirits of the Secret Keepers.

I've worked on this series for about two and a half years now and still love it. I'm always looking for dolls to add to the series, so please let me know if you have any you think might be appropriate. They will of course be returned unscathed, so to speak. One woman brought me a doll that she was holding in her arms like a baby. "Will you take good care of her?" she asked as if it were an infant. They are extensions of ourselves. At least extension of aspects of ourselves. For this reason I consider each one to be a portrait rather than a still life.


Henry:





Gwen:





Elizabeth:





Annie's Doll: