Money Shot

When I got the call to photograph congressional candidate Janice Arnold-Jones I was a bit surprised.  Certainly I am not known as a editorial portrait photographer so I asked Janice’s emissary why she had called me.   Suzanne Brock who made the call simply said that she knew me socially, knew I was a photographer and wondered if I did such work.  My somewhat indirect answer was that “I’d be delighted to do it.”

When I arrived at the Brock’s magnificent hacienda on the rim of the Rio Pueblo gorge I scouted for locations with soft light and open shade, no mean task at 1:30 on a spring afternoon.  The entry courtyard proved ideal though later we took some chances in gusty winds and midday sun.

I sat with the candidate for a few minutes to learn what she wanted the images to project.  She said she wanted to be engaging and friendly while maintaining a sense of command and confidence.  She wanted to appear natural and to really connect with her eyes, to jump off the paper or screen.

As we walked to the courtyard I remembered the portrait photographer’s mantra, “Get the money shot first.”  I told Janice that we’d get that one in the can then get more adventurous as we got to know each other.

Above is the third in 312 images and is a money shot in my view.  

 In shot two Janice becomes more relaxed and animated and below she’s downright playful. 

Elder

The Pow Wow at Taos Pueblo is a photographic feast imbued with ambivalence.  You are invited to attend and photograph (for a additional fee) but resented on some deep level.  Still the dances and native regalia are captivating.  Regalia, not costume, is the term used to describe the elaborate, painstakingly stitched attire that's all around you.  I found the duct tape repair to this old gentleman's trousers particularly poignant.

Hard Twist

Being an old f.64 maximum depth of field guy I too often neglect the virtues of shallow depth of field.  This old chestnut reminds me to get a little soft focus into the picture. I'd argue that the fuzzy cattle chute in the background enhances the image by concentrating attention on about eight inches of wiry sharpness.  This, by the way, is f5.0 the biggest aperture the slowish lens could muster.

Day into night

Traveling northwest through the South Plains of West Texas we traversed a hundred mile dust storm.  50 miles per hour gusts scoured brown Texas fields and turned day into an earthen night.  A graveyard of forgotten farm machinery posed before an apocalyptic sky recalling images of the dust bowl where whole towns were obscured by blowing dirt and parched by years of drought.

Spot Color

This junker looks rather monumental when shot from down low.  Got a thing for grills and chrome and fading paint.

Luminous Mizahn

As I was driving to the post office a couple of days ago I contemplated just what triggers my interest in a particular image for my weekly post.  I decided there's no fixed process. Sometimes, as recently, it's work I've just done and other times an image in my portfolio of possibles jumps out.  Such is the case with the extraordinary Mizahn whose radiance captivates.  Simple set up, a single soft box just to the left behind me.  Bright sun behind her on a balcony at the old hospital in downtown Santa Fe.

Lake Valley RIP

Meandering north from Hatch, New Mexico's chile capitol, to Hillsboro, a resurgent ghost town flirting with artiness, we discovered the remains of Lake Valley. The former silver mining town enjoyed its heyday from 1881 to 1893, had a brief affair with manganese and lost its last resident in 1994.  The town is partly privately owned and partly owned by the US Bureau of Land Management whose stewardship is evident.  Lake Valley is in good repair and a worthwhile side trip when you're in Sierra County.  The images are of the old general store and a tiny church.

Single Wides Redux

Saturday night I was doubly blessed.  The opening of my Sketches of Winter show in Taos was boffo and I was awarded first prize in photography for the image Single Wides in the spring juried exhibition at the Museum of the Southwest in Midland, Texas. The museum is a real gem and a must see on your way across the great state of Texas.  Among its many surprizes is a room devoted to the Taos masters. Check it out.

Warm thanks to the Midland Arts Association for including my work the last couple of years and especially for the handsome awards.

Cotton Fields Back Home

The fertile Mesilla Valley grows more than pecans.  Reputedly cabbage is another major crop but since I don't know how to glorify that rude vegetable you're getting cotton.  Specifically Acala cotton from the Four Points gin.   

Cotton and I go way back. I was a cotton inspector for the state of Arizona in maybe '64.  So my buddy Cal Miller and I inspected fields for boll weevils in Gila Bend in the middle of the freakin' summer.  Average high 110 or so. Fry an egg on the hood of your car hot.  In the fields by 6 out by noon.  Lifts weights and take a dip.  Take a nap and have steak and a couple of long neck Buds.  Back to Phoenix for the weekend. Repeat.

Nut Job

New Mexico produces 47 million pounds of pecans in New Mexico, 70% of it in the Mesilla Valley. The vertical image here shows a section being irrigated by Rio Grande river water, something that seems highly unlikely since the river is barely a trickle down here. 

The second shot tries to capture the rhythm of these creatures in some kind of primordial dance.

Pecan Capitol

Mesilla, New Mexico is pecan central in the state that produces more pecans than any other.  Georgia is a poor second, y'all.  This factoid would have escaped me had we not spent a couple of night in Mesilla and chanced upon this majestic stand of pecan trees.  They seem like orchards to me but apparently are called farms.

Double Header

I have two shows opening on Saturday, March 12.  First in importance, no offense to the Museum of the Southwest, is a one person exhibition of my Sketches of Winter portfolio at Wilder Nightingale Fine Art in Taos.  An opening reception will be held from 5-7pm on the 12th.  If you're anywhere near Taos that evening I'd love to see you.

Above is one of the two photographs included in the spring juried show at the Museum of the Southwest in Midland, Texas that also opens March 12.  The other is Single Wides that was last week's post.  The images are from my "At the edge of what's left" series that depicts objects lying at the edge of places that barely skirt oblivion.

Single Wides

Twice on November 11 I was lured off the highway in Navajo country of northeastern Arizona; first by cattle and horses gathered around a stock tank near Cow Springs and second by a row of abandoned trailers with the vast desert beyond. Thinking I was having car trouble a guy on a beater of a bicycle rode out to see if I was okay.  It was truly kind.

Cross Traffic Does Not Stop Here

Snow flurries grew in intensity at the junction of Highways 64 and 285.  The red traffic light glowed against a murky sky.  Across the intersection sat the remains of the gas station, convenience store and a diner that served a mighty fine green chile cheese burger. Welcome to Tres Piedras.  Good bye.

Simplicity

 The Sketches of Winter photographs are inherently sparse and dominated by pristine white fields.  In no example is that aesthetic more evident than in the image dubbed "Simplicity."  Here just the tips of the fence posts pierce the newly fallen snow in Valles Caldera high above Los Alamos.

Puppy Love

Just in case there's any doubt about the affection the daddy and the puppy feel for Cuba, here's a a couple of pics to dispel the notion.  Maybe two pics.  Mucho amor. No?

Victor aka Cuba

In a life affirming demonstration of the importance of getting off the tarmac, the day before yesterday I hung a right toward the mountains and met Victor Hernandez herding 500 borregos north to Antonito, Colorado.  Between my halting Spanish and his sweet, talkative self I learned he'd be herding his woolly charges to Antonito in quatro dias, four days.  That's five miles or so a day. Victor was camping with the sheep, two collies he called the Daddy and the Puppy, pronounced Poopy, and a pistola for los coyotes.  It was a regular time warp.  What the hell year is this?

Anyway, I tried to find out where he had come from and how long he'd been here.  Since he used the words Florida and Zacatecas I deduced he was Mexican.  But about that time his patron Alfonso Abeyta pulled up with a load of firewood and I learned the rest of the story. Victor is, in fact, Cuban and was a boat person who escaped to Florida around 1965. Check. His wife is from Zacatecas. Check. A Cuban shepherd in northern New Mexico.  Makes perfect sense to me.

"I call him Cuba." Patron Alfonso told me.  It's one one heck of a story and a cool nickname to boot.

Blanket of Snow

Photographs of historic Ranchos Church are always in vogue.  The cloak of snow is quiet reminder of the conditions we should have in Taos this time of year.  Instead it's more like late March than mid-January.  The bright sunny forties are mighty lovely but invite a bike ride more than a trip to the slopes.

Coiled and Barbed

Fences play a big role in the American West.  As vast as it is finding unfenced land is rare.  Often coils of wire are left behind for the next repair.  Here the coil, the barb wire fence and the shadow on the snow create an elegant winter design.  Did you know that barb wire comes in dozens if not hundreds of styles and patterns so distinctive that an expert can tell what ranch employs a given style? Just a little Americana from the old sage of the high desert.

Vanishing Point

Nothing in America matches the desperation of some of our Indian reservations and the hardscrabble communities that subsist on them.  The Pine Ridge Reservation straddles two achingly poor counties, one in South Dakota and one in Nebraska.  The per capita income of $4,524 is among the lowest in the United States.  Unemployment is over 80%.  It's no surprise that the reservation is a wellspring of drug addiction and alcoholism.  Brutally cold in the winter and blazing hot in summer, the earth is barely arable.  There are no mineral resources.  Home, sweet home, Leonard Peltier.

More about The Arrangement

In my earlier post I neglected to include a link to the catalog for the show.  If you click on the link below you'll be able to flip through the book to see all of the images in the exhibition.  Pretty cool.


www.viovio.com/shop/87631

The Arrangement

The tradition of the still life as an art subject is alive and well during The Arrangement, an exhibition at Vermont Photo Space in Essex Junction about 10 miles east of Burlington.  I am pleased to announce the inclusion of two of my photographs in the show that begins January 11 and runs through March 4.   

Juror Paula Tognorelli, Executive Director of the Griffin Museum of Photography in Winchester, Massachusetts describes still life as art making that begins with arrangements of primarily inanimate objects.  And, in the words of gallery owner Ken Signorello photographic images of these still lifes are a sort of “art squared where one first creates a work of art then another to preserve it.”

Paula Tognorelli has selected “Found Art” and “Muffler Art #1” for the exhibition.  Click on the link below to learn more about the show.

www.vermontphotospace.com