words & photographs

context

2012-01-26T21:33:00.066-09:00

I've spent entirely to much time working on this post tonight. But, I'm struggling a bit with teaching, and how to bridge some gaps. Or, wether there are any gaps at all. My last post was an effort to try and draw some resolutions. Anyway, I haven't figured it out, so I'll save the long winded post or going around in circles, and just jump to the center...

In regards to teaching:

Ultimately, I want them to go out into the world and drink it in. I want them to become invested, and to love and be scared, and capture it all. I want them to bask in the face of reality and create fictions. I want them to believe that art can change the world, and that they are the ones to do it - that their images are the only answer. I want fire and swagger.

I want them to make great photographs, and I don't care how they get them.

But, my contradiction is that sometimes I do care. I also want them to experience an image on the ground glass, upside down and backwards. I want them to peer down through a waist level finder. I want them to compose inside a square. Experience the freedom of a rangefinder. I want them to struggle with a dark cloth in the wind. I want them to use a tripod. And not. I want them to rely on a single lens, and be forced to get closer. I want them to decide on black and white or color before they leave the house. I want them to get down to one final exposure, and make it count. I want them to have patience. I want them to be present.

I realized tonight, that this conversation is probably more about me than my students. A necessary realization.

choices not versus

2012-01-23T10:29:00.058-09:00

© Rineke Dijkstra

I've been stewing over this post for the past few days. The film vs. digital debate is tired, and I don't want to stir the pot here, but I do want to get a few things off my chest. I think there is a conversation to be had about film and digital photography without having it slide into an us versus them, or them versus us, debate. We are all them and us. Great pictures get made, every day, by talented, hardworking, resourceful photographers with a battery of different tools.

The fact that we have the options, and the idea that those options might be jeopardized, is at the heart of the issue for me. Last week, Kodak applied for bankruptcy protection. The (eventual) death of film was declared. Yet, the same day, as I read the newest issue of PDN, the stark contrast to that news couldn't have been more evident. There was Rineke Dijkstra shooting film, Shelby Lee Adams also pulling sheets, and Danny Clinch talking about the breadth of tools he employs to make photographs - both film and digital.

As photographers, we somewhat bend to the fact that technology, our tools, define us. I'm not saying the cameras we choose, but the machine in general. It has limitations - it's a perfectly imperfect machine. On a more romantic day, I would argue otherwise, but as I write this I'm feeling a little more pragmatic, as I think about the reality of having less possibilities. Less resources.

At the end of the day, I don't care where a photograph comes from - good work is good work. Period. But, I also find great joy in trying to put myself in the heads of other photographers, I enjoy the idea of process, and decision making.

I've been thinking a lot about Joel Sternfeld lately. His new body of work First Pictures is an interesting example. Let's strip away the digital/film issue and concentrate on his use of different formats, different tools. he couldn't have made those first pictures with an 8x10. Conversely, he couldn't have made American Prospects with 35mm. And, iDubai? That's another discussion. The differences between the works are important - there is much to learn there about him, history, color, and photography in general. Sternfeld is going to make good, thought provoking, and many times difficult photographs, regardless of the tools he uses. However, I think its important to recognize that this decision in regards to the tool is an important one, and in no small part dictates how he approaches his subject. The same could be said for all of us.

© Joel Sternfeld

It's this decision making aspect that makes me uneasy about the idea of Kodak packing it in. Currently, the digital formats that are in the same economic universe as most of us is limited. 35mm equivalents are it (as incredible as they are). Medium format digital or 4x5 back? Forget about it. With the (future) death of film also dies choices. I think (hope) our history as photographers lives outside the technology, but only if we are spread across a wide and varying spectrum of choices in tools, and don't let the market dictate those choices.

A good argument could be made that Kodak's ambivalence to the revolution is in large part to blame for the vs. problem. To be fair, conversations like this probably aren't helping. We live in an interesting time, no doubt, and I can't help but think what the present would be if Kodak had embraced digital photography as an extension of a heritage, instead of something different and threatening. And, found a way to bring all of it together as an image making culture of choices. Had the wherewithal to follow "you press the button, we do the rest" with an embracing "we are all photographers".

more on awe

2012-01-14T18:46:00.031-09:00

© Zoe Strauss

Tonight is the opening for Zoe Strauss' exhibition Ten Years at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. This promises to be a huge show, and I can't wait to see the reviews and photos from the night.

Back in 2009, Zoe came to Alaska as a USA Artists Fellow. She spent a couple days in Fairbanks, and we hung out a bit, went exploring for photos, and I took her for burgers at Ivory Jacks. She was a treat, and an absolute force of nature. From the moment you meat Zoe, you get 100%. All spark and fire. She truly believes that what she is doing is necessary and relevant. There is no pretense - the work is it. The only thing.

I've always admired her fearlessness. But, the thing that stayed with me was how wholly committed, how unwavering, she was. I remember thinking - 'If I'm really to do this (photography) she is the measure. Her passion to tell stories and be engaged sets the bar'. I still think that.

10 Years.

back home

2012-01-13T23:38:00.014-09:00

Ok, so .tumblr didn't take. Two things seem certain: first I can't seem to get away from this blog, second, I seem to do a variation of this exercise every year about this time. The Fall is always hectic, the darkness sets in, I close up a little and the blog goes quiet. And again, I feel the need to write. But this time it feels different - like a life line of sorts. I need more dialog, more conversation - even if it is one-sided.

I was just going back through the archive here, and although I was often amused, I was also struck at how engaged I was. Not recently, but not too long ago. There was struggle, and fight, and goddamn awe on so many occasions. I was moved, and writing about it. I miss that. I miss exploring, here, books that meant something to me, offering a bit of critical dialogue, and screaming into the void. I didn't know what I was doing (still don't) but I was doing it deliberately.

So, Im coming home, back to this damn blog. If there are still any readers here - thanks for sticking it out. It's good to be home.

The view down Gold Street from in front of our house. I'll be in the basement tapping out more regular posts. Promise.

tumblr

2011-10-10T13:45:00.003-08:00

I don't know whether I'm moving permanently yet, but I've been crashing over at tumblr lately. I've lived at this space since 2005, and I like it here, but my new place is kinda cool too. For, now I'm going to have most of my stuff over there, but keep a toothbrush, a pair of jeans, t-shirt, and a few books on the shelves here.

So, come on over if you have some time. I have some news, recent photos from Juneau, and more on the way. Good things are coming.

You can find me HERE.

update/news

2011-08-29T08:17:00.046-08:00

It's been soggy and cold here in Juneau lately, and oddly perfect for making photos. I've been productive lately, working on something new, as I wait for this stack of film to land on my door. The film arrived today, and at first pass, things look great. Much to do. Scanning, printing, editing, mailing prints. All good. If you are expecting a print, or and artist book, from my last trip - they will be in the mail soon!

I'll be hunkering down here, and the blog will be quiet for a while. But, first, I wanted to say a bit about a couple places to see my photos in person this year. currently, 100 Portraits 100 Photographers is being shown at the Australian Centre for Photography. You can view the grid installation below..

100 Portraits Australian Centre for Photography Installation from FlakPhoto.com on Vimeo.

Also, I've been invited, by Larissa Leclair, to exhibit at the Lishui Photography Festival in Lishui China in November. The prospect of showing photographs that represent a Western landscape and a meandering human story of the North, in China, is such an incredible opportunity.

Thanks to Andy and Larissa.

LPV Magazine & the Process, Stream, and eventual End

2011-08-03T21:20:00.012-08:00

Last week, Bryan, at LPV Magazine wrote an excellent article - The Process, The Stream and The End. In the article, he tackles an issue that I've thought a lot about, in the last two years in particular - how to deal with photographic projects in process on the Internet? This is a big question, with many variables, and Bryan keyed into a few really valid points.

I emailed him a word of thanks about the article, and we began talking. He asked me to write a bit about my own experience with blogging, and the way I have approached showing images from The Last Road North as the series has evolved. It's a long bit, but gets to the heart of some things in my process that might be useful.

I find this dialog about works in process, blogging, social media, and ideas for sharing work really interesting. Bryan is right, in that I think we take for granted how new of an outlet the internet is in storytelling. Over the past few years I've watched several photographers that I admire deal with blogging, and work in process, in different ways. This conversation takes a back seat to the work itself, but I think it's an increasingly important topic for some photographers.

I'd be interested to hear what others have to say on the issue - in the comments here or offline.

You can read my contribution here.

that's a lot of postcards

2011-07-20T23:12:00.008-08:00

this afternoon, we made our goal to finish the Haul Road project. i'm really overwhelmed by the support. money aside, the response from the photographic community, friends, and perfect strangers has been humbling.

i'm chomping at the bit to get up the road. i'll be booking my ferry next week, and hitting the road in August. i have a lot of miles, pictures, prints, and books ahead of me in the coming months, and i couldn't be happier.

i've said this so often in the past twenty days, that it sounds trite, but..... Thank You.

bonjour!

2011-07-16T19:43:00.029-08:00

it's a bit surreal to have a series of photos in a hip French magazine, but The Last Road North is featured, this month, in the Standard. to top it off, the magazine leads with an interview with one of my favorite authors, David Vann. now, where did my french/english dictionary go?..

thanks Caroline.

FlakPhoto

2011-07-07T19:08:00.012-08:00

big thanks to Andy for featuring my photo on FlakPhoto today. he has been really supportive of my work, and i can't tell you how much i appreciate it. for years, i have been inspired by many of the photographers he has shown, and discovered some outstanding work daily.

originally, i had planned to offer only photos from my last trip as prints on Kickstarter, but i've decided to offer all images from my site, the one above, or a selected few from my last trip for 8x10 prints and larger. get in touch with me if you have questions, or what something special.

thank you to everyone who has signed up for prints, postcards, and spread the word so far.

the end of the road

2011-07-06T20:17:00.026-08:00

we can't drive to the Arctic Ocean. we can get close, which is Deadhorse (two miles south), the industrial camp that feeds Prudhoe Bay. for four months out of the year, BP shuttles people to the coast in a clunky bus, parking on the rise above the coast, and waits while a handful of tourists and adventurers wander the coast . in all of Alaska, this is the only route through. they lease the land from the state for oil exploration and production - Alaska owns the coast, but they own the access.

a trip to the coast costs $50 and a half hour video explaining oil exploration, conservation, and technology. you get twenty minutes on the man made peninsula at the edge of the Beaufort Sea. the site is the geographical end to the story, and the culmination of the only road which passes over the Yukon River, Arctic Circle, Brooks Range and the North Slope.

next month, i will be making my final drive up the road to finish The Last Road North, and funding the trip with an initiative through KICKSTARTER. the trip in August will be my longest stay on the road in over two years. any amount helps, and in return i'll send you a bit of the road. i would love to fill the Deadhorse mail slot full of postcards before i head back south!

Dan, Beaufort Sea, 2009

get involved HERE

KICKSTARTER

2011-07-01T08:18:00.012-08:00

i just launched a KICKSTARTER proposal to help fund the culmination of The Last Road North. i'll have more on KICKSTARTER, the project, the trip, and more later.

in the meantime, check out the page..

Jo Ann Walters and The Boss

2011-06-27T09:17:00.019-08:00

the Springsteen documentary about Darkness on the Edge of Town about the making of the album of the same name is so rich with fire and artistic creation. i had it playing in the background again this morning, while playing with sequences of photos and themes.

at :57 Springsteen speaks about instinct & intelligence. the idea that, when he was younger he burned hot on only instinct - the idea that every decision he made was based on the fact that something "doesn't feel right". but, if you're fortunate and open to investigation that, eventually, intelligence will fill in the gaps and be there to back up that instinct. and, that the trick is to cultivate the two methods of working, and not to let one snuff out the other.

it's such an important and difficult notion. it made me think of a similar sentiment that Jo Ann Walters speaks of in her interview with Amy Stein a few months ago on her blog. i've gone back to this interview so many times. Walters speaks in a way that is so rare. she obviously knows her own work, and the visual language she is engaging.

maybe concocting a relationship between Springsteen and Walters is a stretch, but i would wager that their approaches are more similar than not.

it's this push and pull of intuition and intelligence that i'm beginning to see is the bedrock of a successful project. in the field, i find i run heavy on instinct. i will never see this person again...the light is fading. its about opportunity and reflex. but, later as i'm editing, printing, and trying to make sense of the pieces i've created its that intelligence i'm mining.

From Amy's interview of Jo Ann:

"AS: As someone who doesn't work on projects so close to home, I always wonder how you (and photographers like Doug Dubois and Chris Verene, for example) separate your personal interest in the subject from your instincts as a photographer. Or do you? Are you trying to make the intimate universal?

JAW: This is an ongoing dilemma, a paradox really, and elemental tension that I wrestle with. It is a question of separating and integrating at once the complex emotions, associations, memories and conceptual attitudes related to one’s home and family with the analytical and evaluative criteria of judgment. I want to translate and make my beliefs and values accessible to a larger world. The goal I think is to find a visual correlative in the world that translates photographically. I’ve learned to trust my intuitive gifts as well as my intellectual ones. I treat all with equal respect. In my best work you can feel that same genrative tension and conflict. You can see the tension of wrestling to keep all in suspension so I can call on any or all when needed. These oppositions are not so much reconciled as accepted. When I work, I try to hold making, knowing and judging in meaningful suspension and trust that what is necessary will come to my aid. It’s a matter of preparation, practice and attention. Of course this is a gross simplification of the process."

i want to sit in one of Jo Anne's classes, or better yet, buy her a drink and dig deep into it all. or, just listen to her talk about her work and listen to Darkness at the Edge of town.

all images © Jo Ann Walters

Rob Hornstra

2011-06-12T21:01:00.015-08:00

i'm a little lukewarm with the term slow journalism, but this video, this way of working, is all i can think about right now.

and, Rob Hornstra is a proper bad ass.

McCandless revisited

2011-05-31T09:29:00.066-08:00

Bus 142, March 11, 2011

in March, i had the opportunity to make a trip, a pilgrimage really, to Bus 142 where Chris McCandless died in 1992. my friend Ed, had been asked to guide Walt and Billie McCandless and a group of friends to the bus, 20 some miles off Stampede Trail.

Walt and Billie have recently self published a book of Chris' photos, postcards, and journal pages - presenting the material as a biography of sorts. the journey to Bus 142 was a way of saying 'thank you' to the friends that worked on the book, including Wayne Westerberg and Jan Burres. it was obvious from an early meeting with the group that this trip, more than anything, was made with the expectation of providing closure. Walt and Billie had only been to the bus one other time, with Jon Krakauer, only months after their son's death.

Back to the Wild is an attempt to let Chris write the final chapter to his own story.

sunset, Stampede Trail

my own history with the story of Chris McCandless had, until this day, been unresolved. his life, and ultimate death, was one of myth and bravado - both, inspiring and frustrating. many Alaskan's have a turbulent relationship with his story. i, too, once flirted with the sort of northern entitlement that can allow one to snort at the follies of someone so unfortunate. a gross stance, that ignores the pull of Alaska that brought most of us here, and exacts a sort of unearned ownership of the story. the idea. at 24, many of us have similar pulls to just pack it all in and go. anywhere, just go. most of us don't go.

at the end of that day in March, i didn't know any more about Chris McCandless than when we started the trek. seeing the landscape around the bus wasn't any more enlightening. the sight of the frozen Teklanika, seemed a benign expanse, not the ultimate death knell that it became. the bus itself was in reality, and figuratively, a shell. broken and abused by years of the neglect and cultish love of people who either despised or admired his story. the allure of his story hinges on his unquestionable determination, mixed with a healthy amount of naivete, makes it convenient for us to slide into his boots. we want to claim an abandoned bus on the edge of nowhere as our castle. we want to shed responsibility and expectations. but, ultimately, we have the need to believe that we wouldn't have died - we would have made the right decisions. we would have walked out of that bus and lived to tell about it.

all of this myth and kingmaking dissolved on this day in March. what i saw that day wasn't the glory of a man living by his own rules - a romantic life, and maybe even a romantic death. what i saw was the reality of the toll of Chris McCandless' death. aside from the book, the movie, the folklore was a broken family. on this day I simply witnessed the aged mourning of a family that had lost a son.

Walt McCandless, sitting on the bed where his son died in 1992, Bus 142

all images © Ben Huff

O Canada

2011-05-09T16:24:00.023-08:00

the car is packed, and i'm heading to Juneau in the morning. its been a long time coming. this semester was productive, the class i taught was challenging and wonderful, and good pictures were made. but, its been a long five months, i'm busting at the seams to pull the car up to our little place on Gold Street, and see Dea.

first, i have to get through Canada. i couldn't get a ferry out of Haines until Thursday, so i'll lay off of it a bit through BC and look around. windows down, listening to The Hip, with Pella sleeping in the passenger seat, and stopping from time to time to make photos.

Adam Ottavi Schiesl

2011-05-03T22:28:00.009-08:00

i helped Adam hang his thesis show today. its hard to believe he's wrapping it all up. i've been captivated by watching him push, pull, and tease all means of process and portraiture the past three years. the show really is stunning, and unlike anything this community has ever seen, with conventional prints teamed with chlorophyll and ambrotypes.

he gets at the heart of something really special here, but i won't spoil it all for you - if you are in town, go see the show - Friday at Well Street.

Michael © Adam Ottavi Schiesl

Ahorn Magazine & surprise

2011-04-25T12:21:00.006-08:00

the new issue of Ahorn Magazine went online today. again, i've burned most of my morning getting my fill. the photography here seems to always sit just a bit outside of what i am digesting at the time, and the interviews refreshingly unexpected.

the interview with Jocelyn Lee provided the quote of my year. in the interview she recounts advice that another photographer had given her early on in her photographic career. i wish she had named the photographer, so i could give them credit here. the quote "no surprise for the photographer, no surprise for the viewer" is a hook you could hang the rest of your life on. simply brilliant.

© Jocelyn Lee

Chris Killip

2011-04-24T23:17:00.015-08:00

it doesn't get much better than Chris Killip. he investigates place, and the people it feeds, with a rawness that bleeds beauty.

from Steidl's new publication of Seacoal:

"Chris Killip began photographing the people of Lynemouth seacoal beach in the north east of England in 1982, after nearly seven years of failed efforts to obtain their consent. During 1983 to 1984 he lived in a caravan on the seacoal camp and documented the life, work and the struggle to survive on the beach."

photographs © Chris Killip, spreads from Seacoal published by Steidl

thank you

2011-04-20T14:18:00.020-08:00

i came down off the road last night form one of the best, most productive, trips to date. i loosened up and cracked a depth that had been eluding me. again, the arctic has provided perspective. i've come to the realization lately that i've been wound a little tight. tight, even for me. the time in the arctic proved to be a massive level.

two days before i left on this road trip i came across my Rasmuson Foundation grant proposal from 2007. my words, then, were so full of fire and ambition, humility and focus. i used those past words as a renewal of sorts. now, over four years on, i'm doing exactly what i intended to do. with that i am grateful. the opportunity to go out into the world, my little corner of the world, and bring back considered pieces of life is an opportunity i don't take lightly. i am undeniably fortunate.

this is a shitty place to say thank you to anyone, and everyone, who has ever offered help or expressed interest in my photographs. but, ..... thank you.

Juneau and the Road

2011-04-13T16:33:00.015-08:00

i'm back in Fairbanks, and trying to organize the next few months, and the general direction of things. my few days in Juneau were great, and i think i've found a few possibilities for projects. i have some research to do, a book to read, and some calls to make, and am excited about some possibilities. the photos will come.

of course, the thing that is hanging over me are the logistics of finishing up The Last Road North. i'm seeing now that the move south has come at a good time, in a way it forced me to think about the end. i needed to form a sort of exit strategy. i could (can) continue on from the Southeast, but the time is right to wrap it up. i've made solid photographs the past few months, ones that i will tucked away for now, and feel confident i can execute the work that needs to still be done. Friday, i head north for five days - the final spring on the road. my last trip will come in July, over the 4th. i won't tie this thing off until i know it is coherent, until i know i can live with it, but the plan is two more trips.

the idea of making a final edit of this work is tremendous. for now, back to the road...

mile 26, february 2010

Juneau

2011-04-07T22:46:00.006-08:00

tomorrow, i'm flying to Juneau for a weekend with Dea. i haven't been there in over a month, and i've been missing our new home.

i admit, i was frustrated in December. i could see, and was excited about, living there - the mountains, living downtown again, the water, the newness, the opportunity - but, i couldn't see myself making photos there. the place was a postcard. i was a tourist. out of place. but, my last visit in February was different. clearer.

no photos this weekend, just me and Dea. but, i'm looking forward, now, to digging in for good in May. over the next few days i'll be looking for that spark.

historical photograph - the view from Douglas Island accross Gastineau Channel toward Juneau.

music, interviews, and late nights

2011-04-04T23:27:00.007-08:00

another late night at the studio. i've gone through a heap of film the past few months, and i'm beginning to see the light. some good music has been pushing me through lately, as i've been listening to my driving music. that, and recorded CB radio conversations.

lately, i've been listening to a lot of singer-songwriter interviews, and the odd documentary, while i work. so much of that world, of writing and finessing out stories, is similar to this time spent editing images and trying to construct something from nothing.

tonight, as i was queueing up some youtube love, i stumbled across the trailer for The Extraordinary Ordinary Life of Jose Gonzalez. i can't locate a US distributer, but i'm looking forward to seeing this..

i listen to Jose Gonzalez a lot when i drive. he gets in my head during long nights like few others do.

Homer Photo Fest

2011-03-31T10:00:00.007-08:00

two years ago i attended my first Homer Photo Fest. looking back, the event was a significant shot in the arm for my work. spending four days immersed in photography with Keith Carter, Amy Scott, Ted Orland, and the greater Alaska photo community was priceless.

the event this year takes place between May 31st and June 4th. i regret not being able to attend, but i just can't make it work out.

if my schedule allowed, meeting Andrea Modica, alone, would be worth the price of admission.

if you are on the fence this year, i couldn't recommend the event more. this opportunity is rare in Alaska. go, and make the best of it. also, if you are on the outside, and looking for a bit of a vacation and relaxed photo event - you couldn't do much better than Homer in the Spring.

peanut butter, jelly and hand grenades

2011-03-23T17:44:00.037-08:00

i was working on a lecture tonight, took a break, and saw the news of the American soldier who have plead guilty to killing Afghan civilians. the soldier from Wasilla was 22. 22. i can't pretend to understand.

back to work. the lecture i'm working on tonight focuses on Alec Soth's photographs, and his approach to book making with Steidl, his own imprint LBM, as well as Radius, Nazraelli and others. the whole thing has me a bit overwhelmed, and feeling decidedly lazy.

but after reading the news, and sitting with the books, i can't shake the single photo of Josh, Joelton Tennessee from The Last Days of W. i've long believed that Alec gave us a small riddle, or sorts, to solve here. i haven't asked him, and maybe the following association has been discussed before and i'm a little late to the party, but at this moment the gesture in question seems poignant.

Alec has stated his iffinity for Diane Arbus. a genuine influence, of which a seed of gratitude might have been planted for us. the two photos below are, to me, a quiet nod to the deceased Arbus. a visual lineage. a passing of time from one photographer to another. its all about that empty half-clenched fist. so discreet. a gesture that is of its own, at once awkward and unique. it brings both images into the now, but is just as much about the passing of time between the images. the grenade seen by Arbus pointing to the future, and the peanut butter and jelly of Soth pointing back. the gesture, the hand in an odd clench of an invisible curve ball, is the link.

i see Josh as that boy in Central Park - now, older. wiser. the youthfulness of Arbus' photo eclipsed by the reality of a childhood dream, maybe realized in Soth's image. the dream to be a soldier. all hand grenades and PB&Js

at these moments, i simply love photography, and its ability to facilitate intention, and sometimes something entirely different, all at once.

John Haines 1924-2011

2011-03-03T23:01:00.019-09:00

Poet, John Haines, died yesterday here in Fairbanks. He was 86.

I'd never met John Haines. A regret I feel deeply tonight. I made a trip up the road with Dennis this weekend - an annual pilgrimage of sorts where I open myself to making photographs alongside a friend, when I would otherwise be simmering in the comfort of being along. Oddly, we spoke of John Haines often this trip. The landscape was generous and heartbreaking, and as the miles went by we spoke affectionately of his determination, his standards, and eloquence. I made a promise to myself to meet him upon my return to town. To acknowledge his presence in my work, and in my head. Dennis emailed me yesterday morning of his passing.

We, Alaska, lost our greatest poet. Our voice. He was capable of articulating what many of us felt, but were too clumsy to utter.

This post isn't about me, its about him, but I feel a great loss today. Albeit, a void that is largely built of myth and idealism. His work has touched me and I, selfishly, wish I had a memory beyond these words on a page.

Truth is, I owe John Haines a debt. His poetry has challenged me, comforted me, and delighted me in a wonderful mixture of equal parts. However, Its his book Living off the Country: Essays on Poetry and Place that illustrated to me a sense of what an artist can be. Should be.

From The Writer as Alaskan: Beginnings and Reflections:

"We can hardly look to arts for specific answers to the difficulties that beset us, for they generally provide none. They can, however, reveal to us a range of possible human responses to life, show us what it is like to be alive now, feeling and thinking. And genuine literature shows, as only great writings and art do show, the significant shapes that lie behind appearances. We learn from past and living examples, poets and writers whose work owes some authentic quality to the North. What does it mean to be in this place at this time? How does it relate to what is happening in the world elsewhere? Is it no longer possible to live in Alaska, or anywhere else, and keep out the world. We are in it, for better or worse. One might make a categorical statement: no significant literature can be written now that does not include in its subject the human predicament everywhere."
"What counts finally in a work are not novel and interesting things, though these can be important, but the absolutely authentic."

John Haines was absolutely authentic.

i wish there were an instruction manual

2011-02-03T09:24:00.016-09:00

i'm finding that i have a need to make the book class that i'm teaching personal. trying to make it accessible, and draw lines between books and the photographer's back stories and lives. the influences and history behind good work. i'm attempting to take some of the myth out of it for the kids (and myself) up here, and walk that line between broadening their scope of things but also show that art is made by people. supremely dedicated and gifted people, but still, only people.

it's impossible to unravel great work, and truly understand it for ourselves, if we think the makers as gods.

first, recently, there was Doug Dubois speaking candidly about his back and forth with Jim Goldberg on Sunday and Wednesday.

and, now, this!

forget accessible, but damn this is great.

Cohen & Eich

2011-01-26T22:03:00.012-09:00

i saw, tonight, that Mark Cohen and Matt Eich are sharing a show at Blue Sky next month. what an intelligent pairing - adjacent spaces or not. i wish i could be there to see it. Cohen's Grim Street is the book i go to when i need a quick fix of uninhibited angst and energy. and, Eich, i've been interested for a while - young and gritty it seems.

© Mark Cohen from True Color

© Matt Eich from Carry Me Ohio

unrelated, but not by much...from Sun Kil Moon's Carry Me Ohio

children blush and gather round the home she rests
so poor and glad, with their Midwest moon and sun
flashes bringing on my open eyes, the lightening storm
the tortured mist felt soft, felt warm on my face

PDN

2011-01-14T09:06:00.021-09:00

my series, The Last Road North, is featured in the February issue of PDN. the magazine is on newsstands, and in mailboxes, now. check it out.

i have been reading PDN since my first days of making photographs, and couldn't be happier to be tucked away in their pages. thanks to Conor for a succinctly thoughtful article.

Hellen Van Meene

2011-01-12T14:02:00.036-09:00

i've long wanted to buy Hellen Van Meene a drink (maybe two) and coax all of her secrets out of her. aside from the pints of Grolsch, this video goes a long way toward that end. a very enjoyable 12:37.

video via amadelio

© Hellen Van Meene

mountains & Landscape Stories

2011-01-11T19:23:00.001-09:00

i moved to Colorado, from Iowa, in 1996. the mountains had been whispering to me for years, so the summer after i graduated from college i packed my Mazda with my bikes, an eclectic mix of mostly worthless stuff, $600, and headed West. not an unusual story.

sport, not art, led me to the mountains then. i decided early that a career in art was not in the cards. i didn't have the stomach for it. it's interesting now to think back on that time and see how similar sport and art are in many ways (maybe this is a subject for another time). but a time comes when the time is right. the motivation is right and the will is there. it wasn't until shortly before i left Colorado for Alaska that i picked up the camera, and for no real reason, i found myself heading out onto the arid ground to the East to find photographs. looking back it seems strange that, photographically, i found more interest in the plains (maybe it was the romance of my Iowan childhood creeping back). photographically i turned my back, but, in life - the mountains were my comfort, my barometer, my compass. i always knew where i was - on the Front Range, getting lost in a maze of country roads, the Rockies were always west. home was West. simplicity.

truth is, after moving to Alaska, i never particularly missed Colorado. friends, of course, but little else. the anticipation of the great land was too great. yet, when we arrived in Fairbanks, it was the thing that was noticeably absent. that feeling of a great mass looming over me was lost. from UAF, on a good day, to the South you can see the Alaska Range but the mass is too far to exact any real power over me.

it became clear to me early on with my project on the haul road, that the Brooks Range would scratch a much needed itch. the Northern most spine of the Rockies, the continental divide, has been the high point of many of my drives North. most times i just stop at Chandalar Shelf, turn off the truck, and thank whomever is listening.

but, i'm always just passing through.

so, why all of this blubbering now about mountains and the past? being in Juneau these past few weeks has been like being with an old friend. a friend that doesn't require any catching up - we just get on with it. we've both changed - she's not the Rockies and i'm a little older, but we're getting on fine.

i'll be honest - i've been running and skiing in the mountains much more the past few weeks than i have been making photographs. just out seeing. trying to see. i'm not sure why i'm so obsessed with place. how we respond to places we love? or are indifferent to? the foreign? that visceral reaction? how home influences us? the need to be objective? seeing past the obvious to something more obscure, yet more universal? how where we live defines us? or if it does at all? or if it even matters or simply complicates?

maybe it doesn't mean a damn thing. i don't have answers - its a lot to think about.

.............

i'm catching the ferry to Haines on Sunday, then up through Canada, and finally over to Fairbanks. leaving the relative warmth of the Southeast for the grip of the interior. i'm anxious to hit the road again.

our move South led me to miss announcing the latest installment of Landscape Stories. so much challenging work here that doesn't entirely lean on place, and lives somewhere else.

See Julia Cybularz's work The Mathematician

© Julia Cybularz

one thousand words

2011-01-11T09:43:00.008-09:00

i'll argue that a photo is worth a thousand words. a good photo, i believe, is worth less. but, more concise. and then, there is timing.

JC Penny, 2009 © Brian Ulrich

from his brutally timely series Copia

hallelujah

2010-12-22T10:37:00.004-09:00

i'll be back after the first of the year. as always, words & photographs. i'm unspeakably fortunate, and thankful, going into end of 2010, and looking forward to charging headlong into 2011.

the best to everyone who stops by here from time to time. have a wonderful, and safe, holiday.

i'll let the 5th grade class out in Quinhagak do the proper send off..

moving, teaching and distance

2010-12-08T16:55:00.007-09:00

car packed. truck packed. burning some time before my last class, then hitting the road for Juneau tonight. moving is always a surreal undertaking. Fairbanks has been more than just a home, it is under my skin in a way I'm not sure i fully realize just yet. but, i've moved a lot in my adult life, and all have been good moves. steps forward.

Dea starts her new job on Monday, and for a while yet, I'll be hanging onto life up here. I'll be back in January to teach a course at UAF that I designed last year - The Photo Book. Dea and i will be apart for a few months, but her support of my work is unflappable. i'm fortunate to be able to come back to teach and continue working up the road with a renewed urgency. i've planned a trip for February, which will end my longest stretch without making photos up there. the time away has served me well i think, and i believe the ultimate distance will as well.

if you are reading this from Fairbanks, and are interested in the course - send me an email. this will be the first, and most likely the last, time this course will be taught (in the immediate future anyway).

my next post will be from the coast.

collect.give - year 1

2010-12-02T09:40:00.009-09:00

this month marks the one year anniversary of Kevin Miyazaki's collect.give effort. to celebrate the milestone, they are offering new prints by David Leventi and Saria Finkelstein. also, any purchases during December, of any available prints, will be eligible for a list of prizes - including $100 photo-eye gift certificates and another free print of your choice!.

i was fortunate to be able to be involved with this effort last year. i'll never forget giving that $800 check to the Gift of Life House in the name of Dea and Trevor.

as if it wasn't already - now is a perfect time to buy a print.

© David Leventi

forests & Justine Kurland

2010-11-18T06:40:00.011-09:00

the forecast is calling for big snow here in Fairbanks. the local news is all about the weather today - the Steese is closed at Eagle Summit, and kuac is warning against driving over Atigun Pass. Ed says the slope is experiencing its worst storm in years, with 65 miles per hour winds and snow. as i sit here, the drama is working me over.

but, viewing Justine Kurland's work this morning has me looking forward to finding my way in Juneau. rain and moss. the coast and the Tongass.

Kurland's book This Train is Bound for Glory is available later this month.

100 Portraits - 100 Photographers

2010-11-04T20:34:00.020-08:00

FotoWeek DC starts this weekend. wish i could be there to revel in the photo goodness. i mentioned a few days ago about my inclusion in the Night Gallery exhibit that will start at the Corcoran on Saturday, and then be projected at several other locations in the city. it wasn't until i saw Andy's page later that i realized just how big this was going to be. the caliber of work in this show is off the charts. when i think of the photographers, the work, that i go back to again, and again, for inspiration and knowledge - much of it is here.

i encourage you to spend some time with the links on Andy's site. the great thing about this edit is that it showcases great singular images in a collective context, but many come from really fascinating larger bodies of work.

©Doug Dubois

i was recently reading a conversation between Doug Dubois and Richard Hines. Dubois summed up something that i constantly battle with in portraiture (from a guy that makes it look so easy) -

"Nothing comes easy. Most people left to their own devices will tell you nothing"

these 100 portraits, collectively, say something.

Moving & Print Sale

2010-10-28T10:58:00.015-08:00

big news here at the headquarters - Dea and I are leaving Fairbanks in December, and moving to Juneau! she defended her thesis two weeks ago, and accepted a great job the same week.

i'll go much more into all of this later, as there are so many things i want to talk about. this change will be good on many fronts, but i'm excited to see how the move, the environment, and the perspective help my photographs.

in the meantime, to help with our move South, i'm offering a print for sale. this image of the forlorn Christmas tree here on College Road is a monument. i've driven past it almost daily, every winter for five years. it sums up so much of what i love about Fairbanks - its quirky, and cold, and unabashedly proud.

i'm offering an edition of 30 8x10 archival pigment prints for $50 + s/h.
Also, i have 3 left in an edition of 9 at 16x20 - email me if you are interested.

stay tuned here for much more news, photos, and such as i wrap my head around things.

FotoWeek DC

2010-10-27T07:37:00.020-08:00

thanks to Andy Adams at FlakPhoto - I will have a photo in Night Gallery as part of the FotoWeek DC festivities in November. what a cool opportunity to have a photo of a musher in the Arctic flashed across architecture in our Nation's Capitol.

The group of photographs, curated by Andy and Larissa Leclair, is titled 100 Portraits 100 Photographers.

i'll send a prize* to anyone who can email me photographs from the event.

* could be anything...

the blogging months

2010-10-26T07:49:00.003-08:00

winter is here. with the darkness, and relative cold, inevitably comes some introspection. the wild months of endless days, and limitless energy, have slipped out the back door. there is always that nagging fear, that the sun was squandered. the winter always sees me coming back to this blog looking for something.

i have many posts bouncing around. things to say. work to share. ultimately, though, i'm looking forward to getting back to the basics - here with the blog, and with my own work. i'm reluctant to admit that i've struggled quite a bit with image making the past several months. i'm hoping that getting back to a level of candor here will help me push through to something greater. the darkness brings with it a unique commitment - one i'm looking forward to.

stay tuned here, for some upcoming news, other photographers that inspire, significant changes, and general blogginess.

books and vacations

2010-09-20T21:06:00.045-08:00

i should have posted this sooner. i was awarded an honorable mention in Blurb's Photography Book Now competition. it was a great surprise - i won't blab on here, but it really is encouraging.

i've been infected with books on the brain lately, but haven't purchased a new book in some time. not for the lack of enticing titles. i'm looking forward to the next few months...
.i'm confident that Steidl's honor of Larry Sultan with Katherine Avenue will be a knockout.
.i've never held a copy of John Gossage's The Pond, and looking forward to the reissue.
.i'm intrested to see what Hatje Cantz does with Kander's Yangtze
.i keep reaching for Nicolas Faure's Landscape A, and anxious to see Heavenwards
.Radius is producing strikingly forward thinking books recently, and i'm sure Alec's collaboration with Gossage in New Zealand will yield another step forward.
.and, finally, i might have to sell a camera, or my truck, to keep up with Alec's books this year. it seems the list keeps growing, but obviously From Here to There and Broken Manual are required. the thing that excites me is that each offering will be a departure of sorts, and follow a unusually different track. i'm blown away by his contributions.

in a couple days, though, i'm looking forward to uncovering little known titles in Europe. since we moved here five years ago it has been a dream of ours to catch one of the last nonstop Condor flights to Germany. this is the year. for less than a ticket to Chicago, and in less time, we are heading up over the North Pole and down to Frankfurt (Fairbanks has its perks). we'll take the train down to Prague where we'll spend our anniversary. Dea will look for shoes, and i'll look for books.

when i return i'll be launching a small book effort. Fairbanksans, you can view photographs, spreads of the book, and two unrelated drawings in the MFA show at the UAF student gallery. the show is up until October 1st.

this space will be quiet for a while. i'm outta here.

Mark Brautigam on Wisconsin

2010-09-20T20:40:00.007-08:00

my friend Mark Brautigam did a fantastic interview at Camera Obscura a couple months ago. i just learned of it today, and it came at a good time. beyond my photographic appreciation of his work, of which there is much, i love it purely from a old Midwestern boy perspective. this interview makes me not only long for the heartland, its the reason i love photography. way before there is ever a print, its the encounters, the light, the people, the time spent alone, the search. he articulates, so precisely, what i want from my own photography...and from life i suppose.

i encourage you to read the interview, then go make photos, and if you are so inclined buy one of his prints at collect.give

images © Mark Brautigam

the fog & Ferit Kuyas

2010-09-11T07:52:00.010-08:00

i woke at 4:30 yesterday morning to make a day of photographs on a bottom section of the road. it was dark and crisp when i left the house. coffee in hand and a little bleary eyed. the roads wet, truckers still sleeping, and the kind of sunrise that makes you believe there could never be another time to make a photograph.

the morning of perfectly unpredictable light yielded to a perfectly cloudless bluebird sky by noon, and brought with it a warmth that felt unsettled against a Fall that has nearly passed. an ideal day for driving or hiking - less so for making photographs. it seemed yesterday, an odd existence always wishing for gloomy weather.

i still worked hard behind the ground glass, but more with the objective of just being there. seeing and taking an inventory for another time.

all the while though, i couldn't shake the tone of Ferit Kuyas' images of Chonqing.

Kuyas has created something i can feel. i have no personal reference for the place, Chonqing, but i can feel it. i can smell it. the fog wraps me up, and i am in it. in the photographs. in Chonqing.

the City of Ambition

all images © Ferit Kuyas

the River and Kevin Sisemore

2010-09-04T09:34:00.013-08:00

my parents are boating up the Mississippi from their home in LeClaire to Dubuque this weekend. i used to love that trip. one of the last of the year. glorious fall colors, skiing for those willing to brave the cold, grilling on sand bars, enjoying shitty beer from a can, and the lore of the old Mississippi. as i was getting ready for work yesterday, wishing i was sitting at Lock & Dam 13 or cruising below the bluffs near Bellevue, i thought of Kevin Sisemore's photos poignant images from the shore of the great river on the other side of the state - the Missouri.

all photos © Kevin Sisemore from River KC.

a good week

2010-09-01T22:29:00.012-08:00

i've been encouraged by the reception that The Last Road North has enjoyed lately. i've made an effort this fall to push on the work a little more, and get it out into the world. i'm humbled by the encouragement. the support only makes me want to create better photographs. in the mean time..

Thanks to Heidi for including me in Unless You Will this month. Her clean design makes any work look better, and I'm in terrific company.

Also, i have been selected as a finalist in Critical Mass. its great to see friends listed here, and so much solid work.

i have a couple other exciting announcements coming up as well. its a bit early, but stay tuned.

UYW - Issue 9

Ian Teh

2010-08-27T22:02:00.008-08:00

i found Ian Teh's work in the new issue of Granta today. he blew me away. this is the best photo "book" i have held in my hands all week. dirty, dark, and difficult. my favorite d's.

© Ian Teh

Flak'd

2010-08-23T17:45:00.010-08:00

thanks to Andy Adams at Flak Photo for featuring one of my photos this morning. this photo of Victoria and her dogs, will be available, beginning today, at Daniel Cooney's Fall auction. thanks, to Daniel for including me again this year - there is an impressive amount of really great work.

you can view the lot, and make bids HERE.

Adam Ottavi Schiesl

2010-08-20T20:10:00.011-08:00

my good friend Adam has finally built a web page. Adam, continually impresses me with his tireless quest in exploring portraiture. his dedication to alternative processes, and history, is encouraging in this age, and resulting in compelling images. i encourage you to take a look, and check back often as he is adding new, and old, images.

currently, he is in Homer searching for interesting faces. no doubt, he will come back with spectacular captures.

Untitled (Travis) 2010, © Adam Ottavi Schiesl

Barry McWayne

2010-08-08T20:40:00.012-08:00

Alaska photographer, and friend, Barry McWayne died this afternoon.

To be a photographer in Fairbanks, was to be a photographer who was helped by Barry. I met him shortly after moving to Fairbanks in 2005, and my intimidation quickly dissolved into respect. He was the standard bearer of the scene here, and a great champion for the medium. Although I confused, and frustrated, him at times I think - he was nothing but supportive of me and my efforts. He was quick with advice, and quicker with a laugh. His energy was infectious, and the community here has suffered a great loss in his spirit.

I visited him at the hospital here, before they moved him to Anchorage, but won't remember him that way. The last time I saw him was before his show at The Annex in June, where he and Charles showed a summation of their annual road trips South. The Wednesday before the opening, Barry, Charles, Adam and I hung the show - beautiful prints, stories and laughs. I'll miss you Barry.

© Barry Mcwayne

Chicago bound

2010-07-21T07:48:00.005-08:00

i'm leaving the monsoon that is the Interior later tonight for the heat wave in the midwest. we'll be sweating it out in the burbs mostly, but i plan to get into the city on Friday for a couple hours to see Paula McCartney's Bird Watching at MoCP, Proof over at Catherine Edelman, and to see if i can't bribe an attendant into a peek at the Cartier-Bresson show at The Institute that opens on Sunday.

one of these days i'm going to breeze into Chicago and have time to look up some folks, and walk easy around town. not this trip. if you are interested in a coffee on the run, or have a must-see show, send me an email.

Photography Book Now

2010-07-15T14:06:00.011-08:00

my last trip up the road in June was a success on many levels. not least of which is that it provided me with a handful of images that i was desperately missing. photos that i've been searching for. before the trip, in April, i went back through every sheet of film i have burned since the Fall of 2007 to rescan, reconsider, and be very honest with myself.

i'm relieved, today, to have finished an edit of The Last Road North that i'm very proud of. in the long term, i'm not finished with the work, there are holes, but i am more satisfied than ever. so, with that, i entered the Photography Book Now competition. no expectations, but i'm thrilled to have an outstanding panel view this work.

you can view the entire book below..

The Last Road North by Ben Huff | Make Your Own Book

note: i'm not selling this book (hence the absurd price). it is my ultimate goal to see this book in print, as a beautiful object, when the story is complete. this isn't a slight to blurb, it just isn't yet the time or format.

i will have the complete edit on my site soon as well.

getting settled

2010-07-11T09:58:00.006-08:00

life has been wild here lately. house sitting, dog sitting, and packing, and moving across town. we're settled now and i'm back to being consumed with several self imposed deadlines. i've had much to say lately, but not a minute to sit and write. i've seen some great work, and books, and online efforts by others that i need to express my admiration. soon.

No Wood Cutting, 2010

Joe Deal 1947-2010

2010-06-24T10:50:00.005-08:00

rest in peace Mr. Deal. you left your mark. thank you.

© Joe Deal

back to civilization & another blog

2010-06-22T22:35:00.005-08:00

my week traversing the Brooks Range was incredible. i'm without words.

i made another blog with photos from the week. this excursion demanded that i pack light, so i was left with the only digital camera i have at the moment - my iphone. other than it getting soaked on day 5, and consequentially being packed away for the remaining two days, it was surprisingly convenient.

i'm digging into several new images this week, and will share a few soon. until then - check out some snapshots from our trip.

off the grid

2010-06-10T17:59:00.064-08:00

today, i'm packing for a week long packrafting trip in the Brooks Range. good friends, 80 miles of hiking, 70 miles of paddling, and some needed absence of external stimuli. i have a heap of new images, and i'm happy with how things are progressing, and i feel like i've rounded a bit of a corner. i feel like i need to be pushing harder, but also feel like maybe i'm in a weeds a bit. history has proved, that its probably a good time to get some distance and freshen up.

some extended time with only necessities on my back will be therapeutic. the oil spill in the gulf still has me stewing, and i find myself asking many questions. selfish questions, that deal with my own environment and obligations. i can't help but look in the mirror, and question my own responsibilities as a photographer - especially in Alaska. its easy to be romantic here, to be wooed by the promise of beauty, and a frontier that is perpetually threatened. i feel, today, like i should be doing more, employ a more critical eye, but to what end?

tomorrow i begin an adventure across ANWR, and i feel profoundly empty of any perspective on accomplishing anything other than putting one foot in front of the other. there will be much time to think, and i'm hoping the distance will provide some clarity. my questions aren't unique. its the notion of where, and what we consider untouched, protected, and worth fighting over that i question. the ultimate decisions of a few, having the ability to destroy the lives of so many. its not about being for, or against, drilling in the arctic as much as its about responsibility, stewardship, and ownership.

if we speak about conservation, my own hypocrisy isn't entirely lost on me. two weeks ago i drove over a thousand miles on a road into, and out of, the arctic. a road made possible by the oil industry. i burned oil to make the trip. my photographs, my objective, frivolous to most. what i see at the end of the road is not attractive. the possibility, and reality, of catastrophe there is not attractive. off shore drilling in the arctic is not attractive. five hundred miles of new road across permafrost is not attractive. but, in its ugliness is complication. not black, nor white. similarly, my focus has not been predictable. i think often about the subtlety, and nuance, in other photographer's work - photographers whom i admire greatly. it's a supremely difficult thing to do. my use of oil as a consistent minor player behind a more human story which attracts me. my need is to offer questions, not to attempt to provide answers. i wonder often, however, whether i'm better off swinging for the fences. being more predictable. whether the quest for a subtle, slow burn, through fifty photographs is enough. and, whether the fire is even on the negative. i sometimes question the whisper, when at times i want to scream.

mile 294, February, 2009

its time to get off the grid for a bit. concentrate on the effort of forward momentum and exist simply. removing myself to become more moved.

we're taking the Northern of the two routes.

oil on my mind

2010-05-23T00:18:00.015-08:00

up late, scanning and planning a trip up the pipeline, and can't shake the images of the debacle in the Gulf. i've had Sonja Thomsen's photographs on my mind.

proof that art has the ability to render even the grotesque as strangely beautiful.

all photographs © Sonja Thomsen

Sasha Bezzubov

2010-05-19T18:02:00.005-08:00

i heard yesterday, form a friend, that the wildfires have already started. this made me think of Sasha Bezzubov's work.

all images © Sasha Bezzubov

break up

2010-05-03T16:48:00.014-08:00

we completely bypassed mud season here in the Interior. near abysmal snow cover this winter, and a (so far) scorching spring, meant we leapt right over weeks of wearing extratufs. i won't complain - the weather has been glorious.

making photos has been downright enjoyable. i've been digging into different approaches, of which i will be sharing some images soon, and reveling in the process. i've made an effort to change things up a little this year, and i'm beginning to see the rewards. i'm stubborn by nature, and my change comes in small increments, but i'm feeling good. i'm also worrying less about photos far away and concentrating on photos close to home. it takes much effort for me to acknowledge that anxiety doesn't make me a better photographer.

my good friend Dennis has been sticking close to home as well, and wrote a nice bit about breakup a few weeks ago. you might remember our escapades at the Yukon last year. i made many photographs last year, and wasn't happy with any but the one (below).

the Chatanika River broke at the Elliot bridge on Sunday. i made several exposures - taking lessons learned last year. i never tire of seeing the ice go out. its a remarkable sight when the river exceeds its banks, and the ice winds a new path through trees and brush.

Yukon River, May 2009

Joe Deal

2010-04-20T22:33:00.009-08:00

i first became aware of Joe Deal's work when i found a copy of Southern California Photographs. his work made me look closer - and want to shoot in mono again. it has been some time since i've gone back to sit with it. i should.

recently, while looking at the new printing of New Topographics, i've been asking myself, and others, why he isn't more widely acknowledged. although, i don't respond to the photos in this book the way i do Adams' or Gohlke's for instance, his photographs in California are up there with the best in my opinion.

i'm embarrassed to say he had kind of fell off my radar lately, but he made a bold resurgence tonight with his West And West work that i'm just now catching up with. this work is deceptive in its simplicity. the great plains in all it's austere reverence.

all images © Joe Deal

Deal is currently showing West And West at Robert Mann. and, Center for American Places published a book last year - one that i am yet to see.

close

2010-04-19T12:55:00.008-08:00

i've been spending more time shooting close to home this spring - working on two separate trains of thought - and feel as though i'm coming to the edge of a plateau. up or down - i don't know yet, but it's movement.

the semester is almost over, and things are getting a little backed up, but i can see the light. it was difficult to see a month ago, but progress has been made. i've been making more photos. i don't know whether any will see the light of day, but they've been made.

i have penciled in an extended trip up the road in May. i'm looking forward to the driving - for now i walk.

a semi-recent photo from the road:

© Ben Huff

Dalton Rooney

2010-04-08T12:12:00.009-08:00

i've really neglected this place the past few months. seems i say that here often. i have a lot going on - beginning to see that it's too much - and organizing my thoughts has been difficult.

a moment ago i completed a survey about blogging for liveBooks, and their RESOLVE blog. it got me thinking about why i started this blog in the first place (5 years ago), and the evolution it has taken over time. at it's best it has been, for me, a way to work through things photographically, show works in process, and celebrate other photographers who i believe are doing good work, and help me see things more clearly.

this brings me to Dalton Rooney's new work - outer lands. as, i said a moment ago, much of the work i post here is work that inspires me, in that it accomplishes something i, myself, struggle with or am thinking about. Dalton's work in general speaks to a quietness, and subtly that i find lacking in so much work recently. mine included. the inclination to go for the knockout punch, versus letting work simmer, and build slowly is something i find infinitely interesting, and frustrating technically. Dalton has taken a difficult road here, and navigated it well. his work makes me pause, look deeper, and ultimately find great satisfaction.

all images © Dalton Rooney

friday music/guide

2010-03-26T07:55:00.008-08:00

classic photographs = classic covers

my goodness, he's having so much fun

2010-03-25T21:59:00.013-08:00

i've been trying lately to not be so hung up in place. PLACE, what does that even mean? photography is inherently a mechanism interpreting place. at least, that's my opinion. that might be part of my problem.

i'm experimenting, lately, with a couple bodies of work that test my comfort level with description and representation. sinking my teeth into something i am having a difficult thing defining.

the further i get from place though - be it Alaska, Iowa, the West, the moon - the more the lack of tangibles gets me tied in knots.

this has brought me, in a round about way, to John Gossage's Here...Half Blind exhibition at the Rochester Art Center in February. the show was brilliant. the first room opened with three walls of a continuous ribbon of 40s and 50s era postcards of Rochester - supplied from the collection of a local doctor. the next room consisted of larger prints, thumb tacked to the wall, and all subject to jarring light leaks - awash in bright light and abstracts of forms from partial wholes (fate if ever there was). the remaining four rooms were straight forward Gossage at his best. idiosyncratic, compulsive, and spot on.

© John Gossage

i've been to Rochester several times in the years since my wife fell ill. its a small town with a big hospital. it is America. the heartland. i've found myself running, at night, in the the neighborhoods that Gossage walked. it's familiar yet unique. i've seen the types of kids he met. saw the flags. the detritus. the cars and fences.

this work made me stop and consider so many issues in my my own work as a photographer, but about community and people and time. place. his eye, his grit, perspective and compulsion created something permanent. the thing is though, that his approach, his framing, his rigor created something else as well - something more. something larger than just place. that's the rub.

i viewed this work on a Thursday afternoon with my wife. in the gallery were two other older patrons. the man - maybe in his seventies, balding, and bespectacled - seemed unimpressed and anxious. his wife, on the other hand, glided about the room, returning to photographs that she responded to and - clapping her hands - exclaimed time and again "my goodness, he is having so much fun, isn't he".

my interpretation of the work was a little less optimistic than hers, but i was buoyed by her excitement. i would like to think that, yes, John Gossage was having a good time. i guess that goes a long way to answering my own question about my hangup on place.

Avadon on Schiele

2010-03-18T00:24:00.005-08:00

"You can't get at the thing itself, the real nature of the sitter, by stripping away the surface. The surface is all you've got. You can only get beyond the surface by working with the surface. All that you can do is manipulate that surface - gesture, costume, expression - radically and correctly. And I think Schiele understood this in a unique, profound, and original way. Rather than attempting to abandon tradition of the performing portrait (which is probably impossible anyway), it seemed to me that Schiele pushed it to extremes. He shattered the form by turning the volume up to a scream. And so what we see in Schiele is a kind of recurring push and pull: first toward pure "performance," gesture and stylized behaviors pursued for its own sake, studied for its on sake; then these extreme stylizations are preserved in form, but disoriented, taken out of their familiar place, and used to change the nature of what a portrait is."
- Richard Avedon from Egon Schiele: Drawings and Watercolors

Self-Portrait with Arm Twisting Above Head, 1910, Egon Schiele

of books and procrastination

2010-03-10T12:42:00.030-09:00

there is a good conversation being started over at too much chocolate between Shawn Records and Jason Fulford, Alec, and (next week) Richard Renaldi. as always, the talk of books gets my head swimming. i've been telling myself for the past four years - start making books! its always been an issue of the cart and horse i guess. still, books are the thing that excites me most. always has.

i've had a tremendous amount of outside stimulation lately - outside my own head and off line. there were the John Gossage and William Eggleston shows two weeks ago - both liberating and eye opening. Gossage's exhibition catalog/newspaper alone was worth the trip. also, Jen Davis has been in town for the past few days. she is positively lovely, and we have been having a hell of a time, her Adam and I, carousing, sharing many laughs, and talking about photography. i will give her a full treatment in this space later, as her lecture and critique meant a great deal to me, and i think will help me resolve some problems i am having with portraiture.

it has become apparent the past couple weeks though, and thinking about the wide spectrum of the medium and what is possible, what is really important to me. when i take all of this in, and think about my own work and where we are headed, it all still comes back to books. and, to a large extent, community. i've been experimenting with one-off diy books lately, and am more satisfied by the process than i have anything in a while. of course, it all comes down to content. in time.

now, a few single diy and blurb books later as reference i'm seeing the light. yesterday, i met with a local printer, and was encouraged by his excitement. sometimes, i'm frustratingly slow to react. last year i built a website for these phantom books. it sits empty. again, the cart and the horse. as an old bike racing friend of mine was fond of saying - all talk and no cock.

expect the launch of a modest book effort of a new body of work here this summer.

photo bits

2010-02-25T06:28:00.011-09:00

Fairbanks photographers - tomorrow is the last day to submit photographs to be judged by Jen Davis for the Annex show on March 5th. pieces should be dropped off at at the journalism department in the Bunnell building. if you haven't cleared your calender for her portraiture workshop and critique - do it.

more on Jen and her work later.

© Jen Davis

also, check out a short interview i did this week at Mull It Over.

finally, we were walking home from dinner last night and i eyed a familiar photo tacked to a pole...John Gossage is at the Rochester Art Center. brilliant!

donation made

2010-02-24T14:36:00.011-09:00

yesterday, Dea and i presented the GIft of Life House with the donation from the collect.give print sale. thank you to everyone who purchased a print and offered support. Sister Jane was extremely grateful.

i must say that handing over that check today felt very good. there are still some outstanding photographs for sale at collect.give, and all proceeded going to worthy causes.

yesterday, was also the one year anniversary of Dea's transplant. she is doing remarkably well.

IL > WI > MN > IA > IL

2010-02-19T09:49:00.010-09:00

we leave in the morning for Chicago. 9 days - most spent driving from Chicago to Rochester, to my parent's place in Iowa, and back to Dea's parent's place in the South burbs of the City. the great Midwest tour of 2010. i'm looking forward to the driving, the landscape, (hopefully) quick forays into Chicago and Minneapolis proper, and a clean 1 year bill of health for Dea in Rochester. we will be moving quickly, but i hope to look some folks up while we are outside, and take in an exhibition or two.

mostly, i'm looking forward to getting out of Fairbanks, getting some perspective, resetting, and coming back here ready to get some serious work done.

till then, it will be good to be home.

Hollis Bennett

2010-02-09T09:10:00.008-09:00

i've never met Hollis, but we've spoken a few times. he was in Alaska last summer, and although we tried to catch up when i was in Homer, we ended us missing each other by a day. he moves quickly. a small piece of my need to get out of this town is satisfied by his photographs of places i've never been.

he returned from a trip to Africa last month, and i just caught up with a post he made a couple weeks ago of his contact sheets. they made my heart skip. god, i love that feeling. that crash of reality. this is it - did i get it? no nostalgia or excuses - the images are there, or they aren't. viewing negatives, or contact sheets, for the first time is a heavy dose of reality - a reality laced with time, expense, sweat, and not a small amount of ego.

you can see more of Hollis' finished work in Africa here and here.

first book

2010-02-08T13:27:00.005-09:00

Alec is running a regular feature on the LBM blog about photographers' first time. what were the first books we loved, first ones we held in amazement, first to show ourselves about the world around us in a different way?

Charlie and i spoke about my first time last week - my answer is here.

portrait of Tina Modotti © Edward Weston

some great dialogue was started with Larry Fink.

hitting the road

2010-02-05T21:55:00.013-09:00

i'm taking an art history class this semester - Field Artists of the North. we'll be sketching often in class, which i wasn't expecting. it's felt good, and it's been too long. last class, Mareca Guthrie said something in regards to drawing that tripped me up. she said, "define your mark with minimal lines". perfect, i think.

i'm taking off toward Finger Mountain tonight for a couple days of driving, sleeping in the truck, and long exposures. it's been too long. among other things, i'll be looking for minimal lines.

chaining up, 2010

America Now at Montserrat Gallery

2010-02-03T09:00:00.011-09:00

i'm ridiculously honored to have a selection of photographs from the haul road in the America Now exhibition at Montserrat Gallery. i owe much thanks to Leonie and Shana at the gallery for asking me to be a part of this exhibition. i have a huge amount of respect for the other photographers in this show.

from the website:
America Now presents a selective visual commentary on regional identity within the context of the increased globalization of culture. America is seen through the eyes of six American photographers: Daniel Cheek, Ben Huff, Shane Lavalette, Laura McPhee, Alec Soth and Zoe Strauss, with work based in five regions of the US, including Alaska, the West, the Mid-West, the Northeast and the Southeast. Each artist conveys a specific sense of place in the form of a photo essay.
press release can be found here.

i can't make the trip out East, but no doubt it will be incredible. the exhibition opens with a reception tomorrow night, and the opening is Friday with a panel conversation with Zoe, Shane and Montserrat photography faculty Don DiRito. the show runs from February 5 - April 10.

update

2010-01-31T21:34:00.016-09:00

i just finished a long overdue website update. a working edit of work on the road. some old. some new.

Chris, Happy Valley, 2009

.

$9,999.98

2010-01-23T20:45:00.010-09:00

i was reminded, today, about Jackie Nickerson's book Farm. it has been some time since i have thought about that work, and the mention of it instantly placed the cover image in my mind. i've never seen the book in person, but the images i've seen online have impressed, and i want to see more.

so, at work, i called the book up. out of print. so, onto photo-eye and amazon. sweet, a used copy... for $11,809.83! what the? granted, there is a new copy at a better price...only $9,999.98. a bargain.

now, if i sold my truck...and found a way to come up with the other $7k, i'd be set.

i'm not making light of the work, but i am discouraged by the (relatively) democratic nature of the photo book reaching such absurd heights.

Nickerson is currently showing her newest body of work Ten Miles Round at Gallery of Photography in Dublin. the show closes on the 31st. i think i'll blow my, hypothetical, ten grand on a trip instead - Laphroig and pints are on me.

Dave Jordano

2010-01-17T14:01:00.005-09:00

Dave Jordano is lending his impeccable eye to the newest collect.give print sale. i have been a fan of Dave's for some time, and am pleased to see him participating and offering his work up for a good cause, and a great price. seriously, you can't go wrong here.

being a Midwesterner by birth (as i get older i'm beginning to realize how much more rooted there i am) his photographs hit a metaphorical sweet spot for me. as a viewer they have a familiarity that is honest and articulate. as a photographer, i'm in awe of his precision and, it would seem, inability to make a bad photograph. it's rare to see this much good work in one place.

the following photo is from his series Chanute AFB -

Room Detail #2, Chanute AFB, Rantoul, IL, 2007
© Dave Jordano

buy the print HERE

50 by 365

2010-01-16T18:02:00.009-09:00

this month brings to a close the 50 States Project. the final installment The American Dream provides a diverse group of photographs to end the collaborative effort. it's been interesting watching 50 photographers interpret the same assignment in their home states. all in all - 300 photos of varying American perspectives in a defining year of our history.

"Snow sculpture rendition of Raising the Flag during the Battle of Iwo Jima. East Montpelier, VT" © Seth Butler

Timothy Briner

2010-01-06T18:36:00.011-09:00

tomorrow night, Timothy Briner will be showing his Boonville photographs at Daniel Cooney Fine Art in NYC. i wish i could be there to see this show.

i've followed Timothy's work in Boonville with great interest since his road trips back in 2007. at the time, he was regularly writing entries on his blog that where laced with discovery and longing, as well as struggles and breakdowns. i loved that he put himself out there, and seemed so helplessly immersed in the task at hand. his daily trials and tribulations were laid to bare. it was refreshing at the time.

he kept most of his final images close to his chest though, and i'll be honest - i was nervous when viewing the completed work for the first time online. there had been so much buildup for me. i become invested, emotionally, in some way with this work through his writing.

now, the work has been done, and the photographs are wonderful. he must be very proud of this exhibition.

all images © Timothy Briner

also, see this good interview with Timothy and Dalton Rooney.

sold out

2010-01-06T10:26:00.006-09:00

last night, our print edition at collect.give sold out. thank you to everyone that purchased a print, and for the support in general from this community.

i know for a fact that Kevin has some outstanding photographers lined up for future sales, so do keep your eye on them, or sign up for their mailing list.

Dea is in Rochester today, for her biweekly infusion, and will share the good news with her doctors. we will both be back in February for her one year evaluation, and present the Gift of Life House with the donation in person then.

collect.give . print sale

2010-01-01T16:56:00.020-09:00

i can't think of a better way to start 2010 than by giving a little back. i'm pleased to announce this morning, that i have prints for sale at - collect.give

when Kevin launched the site a few months ago, i was stunned at how simple the idea, and how great the worth. i immediately said yes to his invitation.

all proceeds from the sale of this edition will go to the Gift of Life House in Rochester, Minnesota. GOL is a donation funded extended stay house for transplant patients, their donors, and families. we stayed there several times during the ups and downs of Dea's treatments, evaluations, and eventual transplant at the Mayo Clinic. the comfort and community of the Gift of Life House was priceless.

i'm pleased to be able to make a donation in the name of Dea, and her donor Trevor. we will be traveling to Mayo in February for her one year evaluation.

day 1

2010-01-01T13:24:00.013-09:00

my new years resolutions usually go down in flames inside of three months, but declaring them here might give them more staying power. so, my resolution(s) for 2010? to be more patient and to take more risks. in life and art. conflicting for sure, but such is life (and art).

the first day of the decade brought -30 temperatures. a good day to be holed up (with no hangover) printing and enjoying many cups of coffee.

i awoke this morning to the following dot warning on kuac:

Alert - James Dalton Highway
James Dalton Highway: from Milepost 284 to Deadhorse Milepost 414
snow on roadway, drifting snow, reduced visibility, white out, blowing snow due to high winds -- only travel if absolutely necessary, reduce your speed, drive with extreme caution — until tomorrow at about 12:00 PM
Comment: Please be advised the winds are blowing 30-40 MPH
last updated today at 12:11 PM

damn, i wish i was up there today. we'll chalk this one up to patience.

on to day 2..

2009... in the rear view

2009-12-31T11:10:00.018-09:00

2009 was an outstanding year. i was fortunate to have two shows here in Alaska, attend Homer PhotoFest, start school, teach, get included in the Guide, and recently the State Museum in Juneau purchased two of my prints for their collection. a better year than i could have imagined a year ago.

but, i count two things as the highlights of 2009. first, making better photographs - this year i felt more sure footed behind the camera, editing my work, and honing a critical eye. all i can ask for is growth, and i'm slowly beginning to wrap my head around some things in my own photographs. but, as i said this time last year, i need to be making more photographs.

second, i met so many others this year that made me fall in love with this medium over and over again. i owe thanks to several photographers, and supporters, who have viewed my work with a critical eye this year, and trusted me to share their own. you know who you are - thank you.

and, at the end of the day, it's nice to know that photography isn't everything - Dea's transplant this year trumps all.

so, on to 2010. no regrets. onward and upward.

i'm starting the year with an exciting opportunity which i will announce in a few days. also, without doubt the biggest event of my career is on the horizon in February...

America Now @ Montserrat College of Art, Feb. 5 - April 10.
Photographs by Daniel Cheek, Shane Lavalette, Laura McPhee, Zoe Strauss, Alec Soth and myself.
this is going to be a killer show.

...

the best to all readers of this space in 2010. thanks for spending some time here. look for more diverse content in the coming year. be well. - ben

solstice

2009-12-21T06:24:00.003-09:00

Sultan on the radio

2009-12-17T20:27:00.013-09:00

much has already been said about Larry Sultan this week, and his untimely death. i don't know what else to say - he was as good as it gets.

i've been curious about his last series - Homeland, and in the process of looking for images, i found this great radio interview from April of this year. it's a long download, but you won't regret it. the interviewer is a young art student, and he speaks so honestly, measured, and full of love for art.

fuck.

photos © Larry Sultan from Homeland

"as an artist, you want to feel like you are in over your head" - Larry Sultan

a few thoughts on books

2009-12-10T20:05:00.037-09:00

Andy at FlakPhoto emailed a few days ago about a new discussion at Resolve on the future of photography books. where is the future of the medium? this is something i think about constantly, and thought i would weigh in.

i don't have any grand predictions of a major shift in the basic formula of the book in the next decade. i don't see the printed page perishing, nor do i want it to. the pleasure of holding a courageously designed and printed book is an experience that can not be replicated on a monitor. advances will be made in the way we experience work online, and interactive websites that support the printed matter will evolve into something elegant in themselves no doubt. but will the internet spawn a legitimate replacement for the printed page? no.

the biggest change i see in books in the next ten years rests squarely on the shoulders of us, the photographers. artists will take more control. we are already seeing this with the strong grassroots (for lack of a better term) efforts by creative photographers; publishing their own works and advancing the format by making ambitious works that compete with those of the larger presses. each year, my own collection sees a virgin publisher, or self published effort, find a home on my shelf. i adore a tightly executed book by Steidl or Hatje Cantz, but there are books that excite me just as much by smaller groups like hassla or a self published book by Stephen Gill.

as our economy continues to stumble, i'm seeing photographers become more creative and assertive in their efforts to become a part of the machine on their own terms. its inspiring, and i'm seeing the strength of these small organizations find success through their embrace of community. artists banding together to collectively rise up. Shane Lavalette's Lay Flat is a good example of a smart guy building a coalition of sorts - supporters with a stake in the success of the effort.

every time a photographer takes control of their work, and redefines the way its viewed, they raise the bar for all of us. i'm pushed by the idea of self publishing and taking more risks.

books are still history - permanent and important. whether they are stapled or stitched is of less importance to me lately. good photography, presented well, still trumps all. if its on my shelf its important to me. i covet it - that won't change.

some books, and organizations, i've been impressed with this year..

hassla's Streets and Trails by Bernhard Fuchs
upstart Radius' Saguaros by Mark Klett
Dennis Witmer's self published Front Street, Kotzebue
farewell books in general, and specifically John Divola's As Far as I Could Get.

finally, Alec's Last Days of W is a testament to what i believe is a well executed effort in self publishing. he has three successful monographs with Steidl, and follows them up with a risky edit of photographs, nudging at politics, and printed on newsprint. The Last Days of W could have been another successful cloth cover from Steidl, but his realization of the work in raw diy newsprint takes it above the safeness of following his previous books. he did what the work called for.

his Little Brown Mushroom imprint expanded beyond photography today too. keeping us all guessing.

raising the bar.

Layover, BRW

2009-12-01T10:33:00.009-09:00

the following are images from a few hours spent in Barrow a few weeks ago. i can't begin to explain my first impressions of the place. it was absolutely surreal. all i can say is that it will not be, cannot be, my only time spent there.

Facing North, Barrow, Alaska, 2009

Arctic Ocean, Barrow, Alaska, 2009

some of the new and a lot of the old

2009-11-29T22:54:00.006-09:00

Deadhorse, Alaska, 2009

this image is from my last trip up to Deadhorse. it will take some time for me to work out how this last trip fits into the bigger picture. i've scanned the film, made some small prints, and stuck them in a drawer. the photos were made, that's the important bit. i'll come back to them later.

this photo has struck a chord with me recently, though, completely out of context from its eventual reading. i feel like i'm the one behind that window. scanning. printing. filing. writing. all of the necessary actions to get photographs out into the world. with each negative, i'm taken back to a place, a predicament, a moment of clarity.

its as if the act of making the photograph is a grand raucous bender. all euphoria and fantasy. the day after, you pay the price - holed up in a room with the walls closing in as you are confronted with the reality of your actions.

maybe that's a bit dramatic. i guess its that i wish i could find a way to bottle that urgency of being out in the elements and apply it to the hours spent with the image later.

RIP Evelyn Hofer

2009-11-10T22:57:00.006-09:00

I discovered Evelyn Hofer late - an issue of PDN a couple years ago i think. the following photo is one i think of often. Alec had a print of this photograph in his studio, when i was there earlier this year, and it was gorgeous. i should know more about Evelyn Hofer.

she died last week at 87.

imperfection

2009-11-01T23:42:00.019-09:00

tomorrow morning i leave for a short trip to the end of the road to lurk around in the darkness of the Deadhorse industrial complexes, and the surrounding vast cold nothingness. it will, most likely, be my last trip of the year.

in between packing this afternoon i found inspiration in these absolutely beautiful photographs of the aurora from 1933. these images reminded me that a moving photograph, at times, has little to do with perfection.

all photos from the UAF Rasmusan Archives

Janne Lehtinen's Night Shift

2009-10-29T22:34:00.004-08:00

i relate to this time of year, and i embrace the slowness that is to come. in July i would have killed for a night with stars in the sky, but of course in another month i will be daydreaming of a high noon sun. living in the northern regions is about embracing place, and not succumbing to thoughts of the color of grasses elsewhere.

Janne Lehtinen's Night Shift stirs me to sit up and embrace the darkness of the Northern latitudes. the Finnish photographer's book is comprised of unsettling artificially lit photographs of his native town, Karhula, on the coast of Finland. the landscapes are tightly effective, but it's the portraits of his father that get me in the gut. the weary, almost dazed, look on his face consistent through many of the photographs speak so acutely to life in the North to me. my appreciation for this book actually strays from the literal story at play. Lehtinen made photographs of his father, at home, early in the morning after cycling home from overnight shifts at the local paper mill. a wonderful story. however, i can't shake seeing self portraits in his work. these could so easily be photographs of the artist turning the camera on himself after long nights roaming the streets of Karhula. those are the eyes of someone yearning for light, being sucked dry by the cold and sunless days, and disorientation of working the graveyard shift. waking from a deep sleep, and after looking outside, still not knowing whether the clock reads 3:00 am or pm. without the text, this is how i would read it. frankly, right or wrong, it's how i choose to read it.

seeing a photo of Lehtinen on seen.by, and the resemblance between him and his father leads me to believe that one day this work could age into an autobiographical piece.

all images © Janne Lehtinen

listening to Graham Lindsey

a musical interlude

2009-10-28T20:42:00.007-08:00

it's been snowing here, full on, for two days. finally. i was beginning to feel like i had woken to a sort of Groudhog Day scenario of a never ending September.

as i tromped through the snow on campus today, under fresh flakes, i couldn't stop thinking of this Graham Lindsey video:

this one's for you Cob.

happy Alaska Day (a day late)!

2009-10-19T13:34:00.015-08:00

yesterday was Alaska Day, and i almost missed it. on October 18th 1867, we purchased this choice piece of land from Russia.

i feel so fortunate to be able to call Alaska, and specifically the Interior, home. this landscape, these people, and the overwhelming desire to see deeper here is what has made photography so much more for me than just pointing at things. this place makes me want to act. it makes me want to give something. it feels corny writing it, but it resonates when you say it, when you hear others say it. i spoke to my good friend Jennifer Boomer today. of course, she's been making photographs in Alaska for a few years, but this winter made the decision to stay on - to live in Alaska. be a resident. brave the winter and dig deeper. her enthusiasm over the phone made me smile, knowingly, and go out and make better photographs.

© Jennifer Boomer

thanks Russia. everybody wave.

last month

2009-10-15T21:22:00.003-08:00

burn, mile 36, 2009

listening to the The Felice Brothers

i mean what had i been looking at?

2009-09-23T14:21:00.021-08:00

lately, i've been thinking a lot about editing and books. ever since Dennis and i sat with denver, i've been thinking about sequences of photos, and history, and how things evolve. in October, Summer Nights is re-released as Summer Nights, Walking. i'm infinitely interested when a new issue of a classic book comes out, as it poses so many questions. the extended edit always excites me, but confuses me in equal measure. i guess, what i want is for there to be one right way to do it. and, i suppose, the fact that there isn't a right way is what makes it art. however, i want to believe that there is a magic algorithm of light, and form, magic, balance, and sequence that informs a great book. i want to believe that the original edit is it. that the other images, while beautiful, don't speak to the whole the way the original selection does. i want to believe that the first edit is history. unequivocal history.

i want all of this because the converse seems impossible to do without error. again, art.

having said that, i count Stephen Shore's new edition of Uncommon Places one of the most important books i am fortunate enough to own. yet, i found the following excerpt from the book Stephen Shore (from a conversation with Michael Fried) interesting:

MF: let me ask you a question about American Surfaces. did you make way more photos than are collects in the book?

SS: yes.

MF: so the book represents a significant winnowing.

SS: yes, it does, and the same is true of Uncommon Places. although the edition is called 'The Complete Works" it isn't. i have come to realize i am probably a terrible editor of my own work and there are many more pictures from the years of Uncommon Places that are just wonderful.

MF: i believe it. last year there was a show at a gallery in New York of vintage prints from, as it were, Uncommon Places, and i remember being surprised when i got to the Hammer that some of the images i liked best in the New York show weren't in Los Angeles or in the book. are there many such photos?

SS: yes, a significant number more. i regret it being called "The Complete Works"

MF: there will be a revised edition.

SS: or the catalog raisonné. or "The More Complete Works". i'm having a show at the end of this month at 303 Gallery, and i just could not believe the pictures i found that hadn't previously been shown. i mean what had i been looking at? maybe i just hadn't opened the right box or had completely forgotten to look in it.

U.S. 97, South of Klamath Falls, Oregon, July 21, 1973 © Stephen Shore

i think often about the wonderful images that get cast off. i wonder, with time and reflection, if the great works of today will be reissued as larger edits? will Alec edit an Insomnia by the Mississippi, or Dubois' a More Days and Nights?

in time, i secretly hope so.

Mitch Epstein's Power

2009-09-13T15:29:00.035-08:00

this month's Granta magazine has an inspired teaser for Mitch Epstein's new book America Power. i've always been impressed by the print quality of Granta, and with each issue am pleased that they continue to fly the flag for good photography.

i'm looking forward to pulling the shrink wrap off of a copy of Power. the few images, and his own text, in Work have left me wondering, and wanting, for some time. the concept of making a document of "what powers America" is daunting to say the least - its such a fine line to walk visually to illustrate climate change, power, and humanity across the country within the confines of photographs - even 63 of them. a region, or city would be difficult enough, but the entire country? makes my head hurt - then again, i'm not Mitch Epstein. the few images i've seen of the work so far, tell me that he paints with fairly broad strokes, and maybe that's the answer. i hope to find beneath the cover the accessibility, and intimacy, that i love so much in his work.

BP Carson Refinery, California 2007 © Mitch Epstein

Amos Coal Power Plant, Raymond West Virginia 2004, © Mitch Epstein

in gathering images for this post, i was none too surprised to find images from Alaska. it looks like he was here in 2007. at 72x90 inches, his prints are imposing, though i've always thought of him as a book photographer. his strength is in his sequencing, and the narrative possibilities that 64 images in a book can accomplish.

Trans-Alaska Pipeline 2007, © Mitch Epstein

the last hurah

2009-09-03T21:49:00.005-08:00

september is my favorite month in the Interior of Alaska. our true nights are back, the air is crisp, and the tundra is on fire with color.

i'm heading south the the Denali Highway with Dea and some friends for a three day excursion into the Alaska Range. 30 miles of hiking, 30 miles of floating, and a 10 mile run back to the car. this will be the last trip taken for the true pleasure of it for some time.

i am starting the MFA program here at UAF in a couple of weeks, and with the full time job, free time will be a rare commodity. i've always been prone to biting off more than i can chew, but have found that i work best when a little frayed at the ends.

i'm going to relish this three day weekend of playing. i might even bring a camera. i gave up lugging gear around on trips like this years ago, but seeing the intense purple sky tonight while i drove home from the grocery store has me packing up the holga.

back to a more regular blogging after this reset.

community

2009-08-19T00:10:00.007-08:00

i've been back from Homer nearly a week, and have tried to tap out a blog post about my experience several times, but have been unable to pull it all together. the week exceeded my expectations in so many ways, but i've been unable to tie it all up - to find a thread that was satisfying.

tonight i hosted a long overdue dinner with Adam and Dennis, and it became clear. over plates of pasta, and too much wine, we talked passionately about what we hold dear. we raised our voices at times. conceded at times. got to the crux of matters and spread it all out on the table.

in the end, we all make photos in relative anonymity. it's crucial to be able to come in from the weather and get to the bottom of things with friends. i take community for granted often, and when it comes on like it has the last couple weeks it can be overwhelming.

i need more of this kind of discussion. if you can't make it to Fairbanks for pasta and wine - drop me an email.

a week in Homer

2009-07-31T21:28:00.024-08:00

Adam and i leave tomorrow for a week in Homer, thanks to this years Photo Fest. it's going to be a crazy week of all photo all the time, and i'm so stoked to spend some time on the coast.

i have a show opening on Thursday at the Pratt Museum, a box of new work, and the 4x5 and Mamiya packed up. i don't get the chance to sit around and pontificate on the finer points, and struggles, of photography with a group of like minded folk often, and i'm looking forward to it. i'm hoping for some spirited, challenging, discussion. in addition to many Alaska photographers whom i've never met, i have the honor of meeting, and reviewing work, with Keith Carter, Ted Orland, and Amy Scott of the Autry Center in LA.

to be honest though, i don't know if i'm wired for this much photoness. i'll be looking for a few beers at the Salty Dog, some good trail runs in the morning, and most importantly, to find the site of this photo...

A Blind Man in His Garden, Homer, Alaska, July 1984
© Joel Sternfeld

damn this photo breaks my heart every time. more on this later.

denver (x2)

2009-07-20T19:23:00.018-08:00

the majority of my education in photography has come through books. not technical books, but monographs. pouring over great (and not so great) work at every opportunity. i would guess that i'm not alone. with every image i make, every piece i assemble into an eventual whole, i realize that the book is the end all. it's what all of the fussing is about.

over the past few years, i've seen many books that have taken me a while to see clearly. i wasn't ready for them, and the benefit of their worth didn't come immediately. didn't come easy. initially, i felt this way about Robert Adams. i came to photography late, and sadly, Adams even later. first, Cottonwoods and Turning Back confused me. i knew there was something powerful there, but i couldn't put my thumb on it. i couldn't explain it. i wasn't ready. it wasn't until i first saw Summer Nights and shortly thereafter The New West that it all came together. crashing. it took those vastly different bodies of work to see the similarities clearly, and therefore see what i was missing.

a couple weeks ago, Dennis and i sat at his kitchen table with the first, as well as the most recent, editions of Adams' denver. it was the first time i had seen either edition. over a drink, we went simultaneously, page by page, through both volumes in order to experience the new edit that Adams had assembled so many years later. lingering, every time a new image, or spread was introduced. double checking for stuck pages when an image was omitted. going back and forth to make sense of it. he is generous with his rationing of information this time around.

the printing quality of the new edition is unquestionably superior as well. there are details that are simply lost in the original. a lamp here, the view through a window there, and the edition of a handful of night photos give the work considerably more depth. i imagine they weren't an option with the earlier printing. Adams' work is light.

having lived in Colorado for ten years, there is no mistaking where he is standing, or what time of day it is, or that (regardless of the subject matter) he is taking the utmost of care in every image.

in October, Summer Nights is being reissued by Aperture, with an extended edit. the education continues.

© Robert Adams from Summer Nights

50 States - Landscape

2009-07-08T16:41:00.007-08:00

the new edition of the 50 States Project is on line now. landscape was the theme, and as always, there is a good mix of strong work.

it's 90º here right now, and smokey from 50+ fires burning in the interior. where do you go to escape the heat, when it's too hot in Alaska?

Grass fire south of Emporia, Kansas - April, 2009 © Larry Schwarm

back home

2009-07-07T20:11:00.017-08:00

i'm back. the first few days after a road trip are always a blur - unpacking, sorting, mailing film, and generally coming down. i like the finality of it. for better or worse, the photos are made.

i feel good about this trip. it seems that i come back from each one a little stronger - i hope that's a trend. this trip was the longest i've taken, and the speed at which i moved about the road was so much more comfortable and manageable. I was able to spend more time with people, get further off the road to see things i've never seen, and ultimately make more photographs. in the past i've come down the last hill into town with some regret and a feeling of missed opportunity in my gut. this time i felt good. exhausted, but satisfied.

i have a few things on my mind, and photographers i've been pondering, that i intend on writing about soon. but, for now, a little late night (um) rambling..