Cenotes – Dzitnup, Mexico

I have always been a great lover of natural hot springs, I seek them out and relish in their healing waters. Now, I am also a great lover of cenotes. Prior to this trip, I had never experienced these amazing formations created by underground rivers. The Yucatan peninsula, ancestral home of the Mayan people, is entirely limestone with no running surface water. Due to the extreme porosity of this rock, all of the fresh water is underground. Scientists believe that there are around six-thousand cenotes in this area and less than half have been documented. There are several types and they range from lakes and open sinkholes, to caves connected by underwater channels and passageways. In many areas, one can scuba dive and explore these magical, interconnected, and very dark places.

Believed by the Mayan people to be entrances to the underworld, cenotes served as both a source of water and a site for sacred rituals. They were the foundation for such great civilizations as Chichen Itza, Coba and Ek Balam. Many Mayan people still believe that spirits dwell in cenotes and thus they never learn to swim. Within many of the caves, stalactites and stalagmites are common formations, as are the fossils of shells and marine life dating back as far as 50 million years. Complex and interesting ecosystems, the crystal clear water is home to a variety of fish including a species of blind catfish. In many, tree roots extend hundreds of feet from above to reach the deep, water sources below. It is impossible not to be impressed by these natural wonders, and the opportunity to swim in them and take photographs is truly unworldly.

The cenotes pictured here are just outside the small town of Valladolid, deep in the jungle at the center of the peninsula. The local Mayan name for this group of cenotes is Dzitnup, and they are respectively referred to as X’kekén and Samulá. Only a two-hour drive from Cancun, these cenotes are often on the itinerary for huge tour groups. Knowing this, and to the surprise of the locals, I arrived just before opening at eight am, and was rewarded with two full hours completely by myself. The first cave was lit with colored LED lights that illuminate the stalactites and provide an added layer of surrealism to the images. Although, I started shooting while dressed and rarely work without clothes, I felt comfortable being nude and I really like the results. In the second cave I had to swim to the island with my dress in a bucket to keep it dry. Like an optical illusion, the water is perfectly clear, and it is almost impossible to tell the depth until you jump in. Thus, that which appears shallow in the foreground of this image is actually several meters deep. Though I visited a few other cenotes on this trip, I was never able to make more images but I am certain I will return in the future.

Be sure to click on the image to see a larger view as these cenotes are really amazing and in the last one I am a tiny figure on the island. As always, feel free to repost and sign up for e-mail blasts below if you don’t want to miss anything.

Isla Mujeres

It has been about four months since I last made any new images. This winter, I have been living in the snowy Colorado Mountains and I find that when the weather is cold I have no interest in creating new work. Fortunately, this post finds me traveling through the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico. I arrived on the full moon, landing in Cancun and immediately taking a ferry out to Isla Mujeres. During the day I partook of the usual beach stuff, highlighted by a snorkeling trip to the Under Water Museum. This place is absolutely amazing and a lot bigger than I expected, there were sculptures all over the place, and a lot of surprising ones I had not seen in any photos of the project. My biggest regret is not being a diver, as the sculptures sit about thirty feet under the ocean surface and snorkeling just does not do the artwork justice. For more info on this incredible place, check out: http://www.musacancun.com/.

By night, I have been out under the full moon on the rocky seaside cliffs, evoking La Serena. Fitting, as I am on the Island of Women. The motivation for these images came while dancing to Cuban salsa, at La Terraza, a great local bar. I met three German sailors there who were living and working on The Stahlratte: www.stahlratte.org. This is huge steel sailboat run by a non-profit foundation, and by far the largest sailing vessel docked on the island. Anyone can sail with them as they circle the Caribbean, but it is a work/live situation not a cruse ship. From my tour of the boat and meeting the staff, I imagine this might be as close to feeling like a real pirate as one could find these days. With sailing on my mind, and hearing stories of vessels breaking up on the rocks surrounding the island, I was inspired to play the roll of the temptress on the cliffs.

In the first images, La Serena beams a light into the night, mimicking a lighthouse and falsely directing ships. Later, she sings out to the sailors, enchanting them and luring them to their demise. It felt so good to be shooting again, and to also have a little narrative in mind while I was working. I do feel a bit rusty, and I am test-driving my brand new Nikon D7000. So far so good but I kind of wish I had not left the manual at home. The images I am getting look gorgeous with this improved sensor, but I have to be careful these days, as my images files are three times larger and my computer’s hard drive is going fast. I have about ten more days in the Yucatan to shoot new work, cenotes and Mayan ruins here I come. As always click on the image to see a larger version.

The Ethno-Botanical Garden, Oaxaca

Occasionally, before I head to a new place, I get online and scope out photographs to get ideas for shooting locations. When I came across images of the reflecting cactus pool at the Ethno-Botanical Garden in Oaxaca, Mexico, I knew I had found something magical. Within hours of my arrival in Oaxaca, I had tracked down the gardens and gotten a very rare permit from the director to shoot photos over the following two evenings. The garden itself is the old grounds of the Santo Domingo de Guzman church and monastery. Built in the late 1500’s and fully restored in 1999, the church remains a functioning religious site, but the monastery has been converted into a regional museum. The museum is best known for housing sacred gold relics that have been discovered at Monte Alban, the ancient indigenous pyramids just outside of the city. Due to potential monastery access issues through the gardens, it its closed at sunset and getting to stay even a half-an-hour into the dusk is a great privilege. Unfortunately, I was asked to sign a strict personal use agreement, so I may never really get to do much with these images, but having the opportunity to take them was thrilling.

Although, I was granted access to the gardens from 5-7pm, and it was almost dark by 6:30, I had to be at the gates at 6:45 or the guard would lock me in. This gave me a lot of time to wander around taking a variety of daylight images and almost no time in the dark at the cactus reflecting pool. Thank goodness I had two nights to shoot, because I totally blew it the first evening. These images are the first that I have taken with my new Nikon 10-24 lens and obviously I still have a lot to learn about focusing it in the dark. Even though, I set up the shot before dusk, like a well-organized photographer, I accidentally moved the camera and could not quite get it back into focus. This mistake was not really apparent on the back of my camera, but later in Lightroom, I could tell the images were fairly useless.

The second night by the reflecting pool was much more successful, but making this image was far from easy. In order to get an image in the dark, I was relegated to shooting during the transition from evening to night when the light changes very fast. Thus, I was forced to run back and forth around the reflecting pool to the camera, adjusting the exposure settings for every image. This is why you can see a fairly pronounced difference between the first and second images at the pool. Both nights, 6:45 came far to fast, just as I was getting into the swing of things and the images were getting interesting. All in all, I feel like the shoot was a success and I am happy with the work, but of course I would have loved to have more time.

Teotihuacan and Monte Alban

Rather than split these two entries (as both the theme and dress are the same), I am choosing to combine Teotihuacan and Monte Alban. Each of these pre-Columbian archeological sites are spectacular examples of the kind of early civilizations that were found throughout Mexico and Central America. Monte Alban is in southern Mexico, sitting gloriously up on a hill above Oaxaca City; where Teotihuacan lies in the volcanic foothills just outside Mexico City. Founded about 500BC, Monte Alban was a thriving metropolis by the time Teotihuacan was founded in 100BC. A much smaller community of primarily Zapotec inhabitants, Monte Alban reached a peak population of 17,000; a fraction of Teotihuacan’s multi-ethnic population of 125,000. By 1000AD both sites had basically been abandoned. Fast-forward another 1000 years; here I am, trying to make some interesting images amongst the ruins.

I visited Teotihuacan first, climbing the Pyramid of the Sun with my good friend Jorge Arroyo. Even amongst the vendors and tourists, it is easy to see that this place was a very spiritual site to its previous inhabitants. Reaching the top, we felt compelled to sit facing the sun, burning a little Palo Santo wood and giving thanks for all life has brought us, good and bad. Lots of tears, hugs and high fives later, we climbed down feeling cleansed and re-energized. At the bottom I began creating images, but as usual, I was short on time and the whole thing felt hurried. There was also the extra challenge of having tourists everywhere, walking in and out of my shots (thank god for the clone stamp tool). When I visited Monte Alban about a month later, I got up very early and was one of the first people in the park, but by ten am there were swarms of visitors arriving by the tour-bus-load. Undaunted, I created quite a spectacle of myself doing these “frozen” poses, thankfully the Mexican people are very accepting of artists.

I am not really sure what I think of these images. My first reservation is probably the most obvious, as in: “what is a gringa doing taking these kinds of images in a Mesoamerican archeological site?” I’m not really sure I can answer this, but maybe it is nothing more than an attraction and deep appreciation for the grandeur and beauty of these locations. I think that by not donning some native costume or other artifice, I lend some credibility to the images as I present myself just as I am: tall, blond, and white. Maybe acknowledging that I am inspired by the place, as I am in nature, is enough to legitimize the work. I don’t know. I would love to hear what you think, and to which images you are drawn. You can always leave me comments at the end of the entry.

El Charco del Ingenio

Above the town of San Miguel de Allende, Mexico is the 160 acre nature preserve El Charco del Ingenio. Over the past few years this place has become one of my main centers for creativity and inspiration. I have had the privilege to shoot some of my best photographs in this space as well as work as an invited artist on an incredible land art project. For this project I built four large-scale altars, one to each of the four directions, incorporating different indigenous mythologies. When I returned to San Miguel this September, I knew I was going to have to do some new photography in the preserve. Although you are technically not allowed to be in the park after dark, if you go to watch the sunset and stay for a few hours they are generally tolerant. I always warn the guards that I will be there late just so we don’t scare the crap out of each other in the dark. Surprising men with big guns isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities.

The main beauty of the Charco is that there are a plethora of different ecosystems crammed into a small space. The area around San Miguel is a high altitude (7000ft), two-season (dry and rainy) climate. The plants are very hardy, and include massive prickly pear cactus trees, very spiny acacias, and lots of grasses. Water can be quite scarce at times. In the center of the park is a large dam created wetland that regularly hosts Autobahn bird watching tours and can flood or become a dry mud flat depending on the season. Below the dam there is a very steep rocky canyon with sheer hundred foot walls. On hot days you can climb down very sketchy ladders to the shady floor and sit on the boulders amongst cool pools of water. At the head of this canyon is a large natural spring or El Charco. This spring is said to be protected by a spirit, El Chan, that harms anyone who comes too close. There are many tales of drowning in the spring and apparently scuba divers have never found the bottom, just a maze of underwater tunnels. For some reason, depending on the season, the water changes colors and can range from white, red and orange to deep blues and greens.

Once again, my friend Nico came to assist and after watching the sunset from the cliffs over looking San Miguel, we got to work. The location I scouted was below the dam and above the spring where there are large pools of water and lots of boulders to climb on. Once we got started, a lovely bright half moon rose to illuminate the scene. We had such a beautiful experience that evening I’m not even sure I was really concentrating on the work. Behind us a small waterfall was trickling down, the air was warm and comfortable, the wind was calm, and to my absolute delight the fireflies decided to join us. To say this was a magical and memorable evening only saddens the great poets. At one point I think we almost decided to curl up on one of the big, flat, sun-warmed boulders to sleep under the stars. Honestly, I probably would have done just that if I weren’t half packed and leaving at eight in the morning.

What follows are the last images taken with my old Tamron 10-24 lens. After shooting probably 60,000 images with this lens, I am really starting to see the quality of the images degrading. I have heard that the cheap digital lenses eventually wear out, but this is the first one I have actually used to death. I am not unhappy with the intentions of this work, but I am not thrilled with the image quality. There were a lot of interesting shots in this group that just didn’t turn out well and I know it has much to do with my lens. So out with the old and in with the new, I am chomping at the bit to start using my new Nikon 10-24, yippie!

Ex-Hacienda San Gabriel de Barrera

On a sunny September day, I climbed onto a Primera Plus bus and traveled to the small city of Guanajuato. A four-hundred-year-old Spanish mining town, Guanajuato was the center of the Mexican war of independence. Built into a steep valley, colorful houses are terraced along tiny staircases that thread down to the valley floor. The city is generally known for two things, its tunnels and its mummies. The tunnels came about after the main river flooded in 1907, and almost wiped out the town. The locals decided to divert the river, leaving empty subterranean tunnels that had funneled water under the city. The tunnels were re-appropriated for transportation and expanded through out the area, minimizing traffic and leaving a lovely walking street that winds through downtown. The mummies are due to the hot dry climate and the practice of interring the dead in mausoleums. When the families of the dead could no longer afford to pay a yearly fee in order keep their dead loved ones in graves, the bodies were pulled out and kept in a museum adjacent to the graveyard. The museum is open today, but no longer practices disinterment.

Another remarkable historical site in Guanajuato is the Ex-Hacienda San Gabriel de Barrera. Built in the late 1600’s it was home to Captain Gabriel de Barrera who’s family were descendants of the Conde de Rul of the local Valenciana mine. This mine, though still active, was once one of the largest silver producing mines in the world. The old hacienda still stands, although it was heavily damaged in the war of independence. The hacienda grounds used to be a working refinery for silver oar extracted from the Valenciana mine, but now have been converted into seventeen incredible gardens. A week before, I came to Guanajuato on a scouting mission to see whether this place was appropriate for photography. What I found was a huge space that I would love to return to again and again, day or night, to create images.

I arrived midday at the bus station and was greeted by my old friend Nico. Nico and I met about three years back when he was working as a barista in a coffee shop and I used to ask him for help with my Spanish homework. Nico kindly volunteered to help me for the day as a photo assistant. Thank goodness he did, because I could not have done it with out him. We spent the day goofing around in the gardens taking all kinds of photographs. Having done the image on the Brooklyn Bridge as a Shiva, I though it would be fun to take some photos as Mary and the Virgin Guadalupe. I brought several yards of blue and red fabric with me and draped it over myself like a shroud. The imagery is probably too kitschy and obvious to actually work, but I had fun doing it.

This location screams for my sometimes photography collaborator Aloyse Blair, as it is full of beautiful fountains and I am not nearly as capable as she at imitating Greek goddess statues. I did my best, and looking at the images I would like to do some research on Greek goddess art and try again. At this point, I am finally starting to get the hang of my neutral density filter, and taking images with it is getting much more predictable. Ideally, I show up best in full sunlight with a dark shadowy background. Knowing this, I think making daylight images will start to become far more successful. Next time, I would really love to see if I can come back and shoot at night.

The House of One Hundred Years of Solitude

In mid August, I headed down to Cuernavaca, Mexico, to visit with my old friend Marela Zacarias. Marela grew up around Mexico City but currently resides in New York City; she was on a trip to visit family and I was invited to tag along. The house we stayed at has been in her family for generations. This beautiful compound is a bit like Marquez’s House of a Hundred Years of Solitude. It is built on a large sloping hillside that is terraced and ends in a deep barranca below. Each level accommodates different areas including gardens, swings, walkways, and swimming pools, all in various states of repair.

There is a special magic to a place like this, a place where there are echoes of parties long since past, children grown up, and a future yet to come. One can imagine golden era Hollywood starlets, flirting under the canopy of lush trees, limbs embracing each other like lovers. If you listen carefully you can hear the sounds of children squealing in delight as they dash down the waterslide, crashing into the grotto like swimming pool. Here and there are the shadows of gardens being taken back by the jungle, gardens that must have grown abundant tropical flowers. The past is present, but there is also a great deal of promise, as slowly the structures are being reinforced against a climate that loves to decay anything in its grasp. Who knows what mysteries will unfold or what tails of love will transpire.

On a trip to the local artisans market, I purchased a small handmade, papier-mâché tiger mask. As I have previously discussed, I am trying to incorporate some different costumes and props into my images. One of the things I have always liked about working with long exposures is the anonymity, as my face is usually blurred and unrecognizable. I think that this allows my viewers to place themselves into the images. Now that I am fequently working in full daylight, using my neutral density filter, I find that I am more recognizable and a masking is a great solution. In the past, I created a lot of images dealing with issues of masking, whether through makeup, costumes or just personal identity. I feel like this is an interesting integration between work that is old and new.

Yellowstone National Park

After the council of The 13 Grandmothers, my friend Terra Celeste and I went to Yellowstone National Park for the first full moon in August. Upon leaving Grandmother Margaret’s home, we were asked to take an offering to the Medicine Wheel in eastern Wyoming. This location is one of the oldest sacred spots in North America and may have been built over 10,000 years ago. Different indigenous tribes have been coming and doing sacred ceremonies there for so long, no one is exactly sure who built it in the first place. The meeting of the Grandmothers was a very intense experience, and it was really nice to complete the ceremony at the Medicine Wheel, with an offering of tobacco and prayers.

As we continued our journey, through the park to the town of West Yellowstone, we saw an owl, a pair of coyotes, and a buffalo, all wandering in the middle of the road. After arriving, we had quick dinner, checked into our hotel, and headed back into the park to see how geysers and thermal water look under a full moon. August in Yellowstone is high season, and you can expect throngs of tourists unless you head out in the middle of the night. With the exception of a few other photographers, we had the place to ourselves. If Yellowstone is a magical place by day, it is far more amazing by full moon. As we walked around the geysers, moist steam rolled off the thermal pools and punctuated the chilly air; intermittently enveloping us in shifting clouds of blinding, white, warmth.

Over the next two nights, we shot for several hours in the park and came up with some really nice new images. I would love to return to Yellowstone, as I feel like there is so much more we could have done. I love the color and texture in the park, from the vibrant blues of a full moon sky to the rainbow colors of the pools. Although, I think they do work in most of these shots, one of the hardest things about shooting in the park are the walkways. It was a real challenge to either incorporate them, or to hide them in the images. Regardless, I am very happy with what happened during this shoot. I think that a few of these photos really need to be viewed big, so please click on them to enlarge.

The Thirteen Grandmothers

This summer I was invited by my friend Terra Celeste to attend the 11^th council of the Thirteen Grandmothers. I had no idea what I was getting myself into by attending this gathering, and in a lot of ways the repercussions of this event may directly affect my life for the next several years. The thirteen grandmothers are indigenous women from different cultures around the world. They are on a mission to pray in their own individual and collective ceremonial ways in order to bring peace, and balance back to the universe. Although these women are often confined to walkers and wheelchairs, make no mistake; they are possibly the most powerful group of women I have ever encountered.

The Council was held on the Lame Deer Cheyenne reservation in eastern Montana. Cheyenne grandmother Margaret Behan hosted this gathering. Originally, three hundred participants were expected, but over the course of the four-day encampment, over seven hundred arrived from around the world. I, like many others, did not know what to expect but the importance of this council was quickly evident, especially in regard to the Cheyenne people.

Initially, the event was to be held at Grandmother Margaret’s house. After a forest fire came within a few hundred feet of her property only days before the opening, the gathering was moved to the local public powwow grounds, a move that proved to be quite fateful. Although, the grandmothers are on a peace mission, change often comes with great resistance. After only a short time on the reservation, I was given a crash course in tribal politics. Basically, it is tradition for the elder men to speak and hold council, and although women are generally free to express their opinions, they do not make important tribal decisions or hold councils of their own.

By bringing the grandmothers to the reservation, Margaret was going against thousands of years of tradition and was met with physical and psychological opposition. A group of militant young men came onto the powwow grounds before the event and threatened cause problems if the grandmothers did not cease and desist. This clearly shook up everyone involved and after a meeting between the grandmothers that lasted into the wee hours of the night, they decided to proceed. Thankfully they did, because this may have been one of the most important events held in recent Cheyenne history.

As the days progressed, the grandmothers prayed, and began telling their stores, both personal and historical. They told of war, oppression, massacre, marginalization, and the loss of land, food, water and children, they mourned the loss of old traditions and ways of living. Many white people also came forward with stores of their own, including the great grandniece of General Custer, who asked forgiveness for her family’s roll in oppressing and murdering the Cheyenne people. Slowly, the men started to come around, to hear the stories, and witness the healing the grandmothers were offering. By the end of the gathering, many of the tribal chiefs had don their feather headdresses and welcomed the grandmothers, thanking them for taking action and opening their eyes to the possibilities of a new future.

So much happened while I was at this event I cannot begin to summarize everything in this brief blog. Suffice to say, I saw a wild wolf, ran out into a lightning storm, witnessed a crowd react to a tiny ancient Nepali woman the way one would expect from a revival church, slept in a tipi, and made a promise I intend to keep. In our final meeting, Grandmother Margaret asked me to return to the reservation and hold a photography workshop for the local kids. I am just starting to work out the details of this agreement which involves a lot of research, grant writing, and planning, but hopefully by next summer I will be able to fulfill my commitment to Grandmother Margaret.

Ghost Horses

Sometimes good ideas really do come like bolts of lightning. In early June, I went to my best friend and co-collaborator, Aloyse Blair’s, bachelorette party. We all flew out to Colorado for the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, where her sister Cecie, had rented a mansion on the ski hill serviced by private cars and a gondola. Aloyse and I had gone to Bluegrass several times when we were in our late teens and this was such a wonderful opportunity to go back.

We spent four days dancing, drinking, and having an incredible time with thirteen of the most wonderful girls on the planet. One day, while getting beers at the festival, it suddenly, with no warning, dawned on me that I should take photos with our horses. Although it might seem obvious, given that my family lives on a horse ranch, it had actually never even crossed my mind. Long exposure horses: “ghost horses.” When I got home from the festival, I told my mom who just laughed and said that she had been wondering when I would figure it out.

A few weeks later, after getting back from Montana, while I was taking my workshop at Anderson Ranch, I decided to start experimenting. I took my mom on a moonless night, and headed out into the field to meet my two elected models, George and Stoli. I had to have help with this shoot because the horses were really excited to have company and would have clearly knocked the tripod over. We used a few small lights to illuminate the horses from the front while I did my best not to get trampled.

As per my workshop, I tried to stay close to the camera and tell a story, to bring on the theater. One of the other exercises from the workshop was to choose the title for the image before it was made. The title of the first image below (and my favorite) is, “This Time She Came Prepared,” or as Arno nicknamed it, “George the Fire Eating Horse.” I am really happy with this work and I can’t wait to keep experimenting with horses in the future.

Explored Exposure – Janelle Pietrzak

Mysterious Fine Art Photography

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