In honor of spring’s return, I made this image of the goddess awaking from her winter slumber.
Tag Archives: white
Ex-Hacienda Jaral de Berrio
The hacienda Jaral de Berrio, founded 1774, in the current state of Guanajuato, Mexico, was appointed to Miguel de Berrio y Zaldívar, Marquis of Jaral by Charles III, and was Mexico’s largest hacienda. Home to generations of the Berrio lineage, it’s wealthiest owner, Juan Nepomuceno de Moncada y Berrio was considered the richest man in Mexico during the 1830s, and was said to have left a hacienda to each of his 99 sons. During its heyday in the late 19th century, it housed up to 6500 people and had its own railway station, post office, two primary schools, and a parish church. As was the style in this Francophile obsessed society, the main building was lavishly furnished and the walls hand frescoed or plied with imported French wallpaper.
Today, the ex-hacienda is a beautiful decaying ruin that houses the Jaral de Berrio mezcal factory. Visitors have free range to explore every part of this building (at ones own risk of course). Walls are collapsing, the floors of second story rooms have fallen in places, leaving dangerous holes, ceilings expose open sky, and the whole place is overrun with vermin and birds. Completely ransacked over the years, there are no windows or doors, the wooden frames are stripped, fixtures are gone, and all of the copper wire has been pulled directly out of the plaster walls, leaving violent grooves. The ex-hacienda truly is the embodiment of the old cliché “faded glory.” That being said, it is possibly one of the most magical places I have ever been, and I am so lucky to have had the chance to visit several times.
These images were taken on two separate occasions and represent the dualities between light and dark, as well as a departure into a bit more lavish costuming. I have refrained from posting these images, as I am planning on regularly returning to this hacienda to continue to delve into this body of work. Regardless, it felt like unfinished business not to have posted something, and by something I mean a lot of photos.
Project 52
Over the past year, I have come to really admire a few young, female, photographers, such as Brooke Shaden and Kristy Mitchell. Their dedication and endless creativity is such an inspiration. Although each of their work speaks to a world of dark surreal fairy tales, they both get there in different ways. Brooke uses photoshop to manipulate her images as a painter would work with a canvas, and Kristy spends hundreds of hours building costumes and sets to fulfill her vision. Each path has its merits and I am fascinated by both as a means to achieving vision. The one thing they have very much in common with each other is a dedication to their art and a boundless drive to create.
Thus, in honor of these ladies, I am announcing my new years resolution. I am going to attempt a 52 image project. This means shooting and publishing one photograph a week for a year. This project is intended to push my creativity, and my output. I will be experimenting with all kinds of themes and techniques but trying to stay in the vein of picture making rather than just picture taking. It won’t all be my best work, maybe there will be some real gems and some total bombs, but ultimatally its just about the process. The one thing I ask for is lots of support. I do this for myself, but it is always so much easier with cheerleaders, in fact, I think everything is probably better with cheerleaders.
That being said here is my first image:
“I only grew up on the outside”
The Thirteen Grandmothers
This summer I was invited by my friend Terra Celeste to attend the 11th 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.
Finding My Vision
This summer, I was fortunate enough to be able to attend a photography workshop at The Anderson Ranch in Snowmass, Colorado. The workshop was called “Finding Your Vision,” and was co-led by Arno Minkkinen: prolific self-portrait photographer, and Jonathan Singer: technical genius extraordinaire. Having these two team-up was really wonderful, as Arno is a master teacher and conceptual thinker, and Jonathan has an ability with Photoshop and printing beyond compare (as well as a brilliant mind).
Our class was comprised of twelve students whom have varying levels of experience. As one of the more advanced students, I was really happy to find that the experience level of the others hindered no one in the class. We all got our time, and we all had the opportunity to learn and grow as photographers (even though a week is a very short time to get anything accomplished).
If you have read some of my previous posts, you may have noticed the growing frustration I have had with my work. I have been feeling a bit stuck, like my work is not maturing or developing. It was for this reason I decided to take a workshop. After sharing some of my images with the class, I was given a private meeting with Arno in which to discuss possible new directions.
Arno himself is quite a poet, and his critiques are certainly an extension of this philosophy. I find Arno’s style of teaching really helpful for my creative thought process, as it leaves me loads of room in which to learn and explore. Out of our discussion came this: most of my previous work was either performance art or opera, and now it was time to give the viewer front row seats to the theater! This means that rather than feeling like the viewer has stumbled upon a performance, or is witnessing a spectacle so large he can only marvel, he is there with you, invited. Up close and personal.
I can’t say that I have firmly grasped and embraced this in my work yet, but I do feel like it is slowly drawing me somewhere I was not before the workshop. Yes, I still do opera and performances, but I am also trying to get closer to the camera, to sit in the discomfort of the situation, and to move the work into new realms. I am excited to see where this takes me over the next year.
One of the new elements added to my work during this period, was finally using my 10 f-stop neutral density filter. This allows me to take long exposure photos during the day. After years of only working at night, it opens up a lot of time to shoot and practice. The filter also mimics the conditions I have in full-moon light and forces me to work through some of the issues I have found so troubling. Since the workshop I have been using this filter a lot, and I am thrilled with the outcome of some of my newest images.
But rather than jump ahead, I am going to show you a few of the images that came out of this workshop, leaving the “ghost horse” series for the next post, as it deserves attention all its own. Keep in mind that each image was part of a particular assignment so they may feel quite different from the work you have previously associated with this blog.
For more info on Arno Minkkinen: http://www.arno-rafael-minkkinen.com/
For more info on Jonathan Singer: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Singer-Editions-LLC/116575908398381
For more info on The Anderson Ranch: http://www.andersonranch.org/
The Bridgers
Concluding The Sacred Door Trail opening ceremony, a group of us headed to Weston Pew’s stunning family-ranch that nestles up against the Bridger mountain range just north of Bozeman, Montana. The week spent there was a much-needed decompression after the spiritual intensity of the previous few days. We spent our time resting, singing along with guitars on the porch, eating home cooked food and going on a bunch of outings. One of these outings was on the fourth of July and included rafting down the Yellowstone River, eating a picnic lunch, and singing and dancing the night away at the Bank Bar (a local cowboy watering hole), in Wilsall, Montana.
During this time there was a full moon and though I was pretty spent from camping, I found time to take a few photos. My previously mentioned partner in crime, Melanie Malia, helped me wander out into the moonlight to take some photos with the Pew’s lovely grey horse. Just as we were starting to get our rhythm, “Bill” the notorious beast of a dog, came and did a fine job of chasing the horses away. As everyone who was there can attest, the name “Bill” on the ranch is generally said at full volume and followed by some sort of accusation or negative…. “BILL… NOOOO BILL… NO BILL… BAD DOG BILL… STOP THAT BILL… BIIIIILLLLLL!!!!!!!!”
Once Bill was content with the horse situation, he lay down in the road and happily watched us finish the shoot. As I have mentioned before, I have a very hard time working in full-moon light. The conditions are very similar to working in daylight and present a huge challenge when working alone. It’s a bit like being on a fully lit stage with no script, set, or props, and told to just do something cool. Inevitably, whatever you do ends up feelinging a bit contrived and awkward. Personally, I feel this way about these images, but I have also had some good response to the work, so I feel like I am close to something new. In the next post I will go into some of what I learned in my workshop with Arno Minkenen… as I try for a breakthrough.
Chiang Mai, Thailand
It has been a really long time since I have done any personal work. It feels so strange not to be working with Aloyse. I really wish that she had been here tonight. There are just some things that work better when there are two people. I had to resort to putting the camera remote trigger between my teeth, and well that really didn’t help, so I didn’t get some of the shots I had imagined.
This image is my homage, to not only the golden Buddhist temples I have been visiting here in Thailand, but also to the temple gong that wakes me up every morning at 5am. I have never been able to sit still and meditate; I have no discipline in that area of my life whatsoever. I often dream, even make resolutions to start meditating… but nope, it never happens. So, when that gong starts going off, I snuggle deeper under the covers and smile to myself, thinking of all the wonderful monks on their way to enlightenment, and here I lie, completely content with my suffering, warm in bed. It’s a silly, delicious moment that I have come to savor in the wee hours of my jet-lagged sleep. This image is me and my monkey mind… never settling down.
Goblin Valley
Well hello there, long time no posting…
So, it has been a while since I got on here and posted some new work. Between getting back from Burning Man, packing my whole house in storage, and moving to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, things have been a bit crazed. Never fear though, I have been working a lot and have some exciting new work to put up over the next few days. Aloyse came down for a week to visit during the full moon, even with the rainy hurricane Jova weather we still managed to get some terrific new images. First things first though, I still have one shoot I did on the way home from Burning Man that I never got around to posting.
One of my favorite places on the planet is this bizarre spot in the middle of the deserts of Utah. Named Goblin Valley, for its unusual sandstone rock formations, I can truly say this place is one of the world’s most magical and psychedelic locations. I have been coming to Goblin Valley since I was about sixteen, and my friends would be surprised to see the new pay station, on grounds ranger housing, and full campground. The cat may be out of the bag. Fortunately, we were still able to drive right into the park at night and “illegally” run around in the moonlight.
Getting to Goblin Valley was the end of a great adventure. We had had a long few weeks of road tripping across the American west, and when all was said and done we had traveled over 4000 miles. Accompanied by my great friend Angelo Valenzuela, we had driven from Colorado to Las Vegas, Palm Springs, Los Angeles, and Black Rock City, now were slowly retracing our steps towards home. As we crossed the desolate strip of highway between Salina and Green River, Utah, I watched the moon traversing the mackerel sky, illuminating the vast desert emptiness. Slowing heading for the horizon, I was concerned we would not get there in time to use the moon’s natural light. As we pulled in to the parking lot, the moon was low, but on an angle that was reminiscent of the “golden hour” just before sunset.
The night was cold, and I was afraid that shooting naked might be miserable, but once disrobed, I adapted quickly and felt comfortable enough. I climbed up on to the rocks and went through the usual static poses. Then something happened. I became a four-legged alien monster creature. Always looking for new directions and growth, this seems like a very fun interesting avenue for exploration.
Goblin Valley is a truly bizarre and amazing place. Wherever you look there are rocks and towers that resemble everything from falaces to faces. In the second image, if you look at the rock, you can see the profile of a face, leering at me in the dark. After shooting in the first three locations, the clouds began to move in and the light became obscure, so I pointed the camera directly at the moon. At this time, Angleo decided to jump in to the photo and we got a wonderful backlit image.
On the way back to the car, the moon set, the clouds really came in and we didn’t have much of a flashlight. Suddenly, we became wildly disoriented. Goblins reared out of the darkness, and I was irrationally terrified. Although Goblin Valley is not large enough to really get lost, that moment of panic was an amazing experience. After a few frightening moments, we retraced our steps, and were able to find the truck. The campsite was full, so we parked a few miles away, and fell asleep pretzeled together in the front seat.
Temple of Transition
I am going to acknowledge another less successful attempt in my photography. At Burning Man this year, the most impressive art piece was certainly the “Temple of Transition.” In years past, the Temple was this really spooky place you visited, left an offering, and got the hell outta there. Even though previous temples had been incredibly beautiful, they were certainly not the hub of action that this year’s temple turned out to be.
My first close view of the temple happened from an art car manned by the Piñata’s Revenge Camp. We cruised around the magnificent structure at sunset as the earth harp was being played for the masses gathered below. The great sky changed color every few minutes from pinks to purples and finally blues. It was really something, something sacred and special, and something I wanted to come back and photograph. I kept putting off shoots for various reasons, eventually choosing the night of The Man burn.
I arrived early and sat around for a while as the sun dropped behind the horizon and it became dark enough to do long exposures. The problem with sunsets and sunrises is that they happen so quickly and the light changes so fast that you are constantly readjusting your camera settings to keep the same basic exposure. It is a real pain, and if you are me, you normally go out without a specific game plan, and things don’t always go so well. I ended up standing with the backlit temple behind me, which was beautiful but left me a dark blackness in which to work. Without a front light source I was too dark to see, so I tried to light myself with two very bright flashlights and that was pretty much a failure. The composition is pretty awful as well, as I am standing central and static in front of the temple and not engaging with my surroundings, sort of an alien tourist at the temple image.
I was trying to achieve this “many armed goddess” thing by dragging the light over my arms in different places; it kind of worked, and might be great in the future but not here. By the time I started to explore, the light was gone and we were going to be late for The Man burn. We abandoned the shoot, and I came away from the burn without any new images. Disappointing in retrospect, but sometimes that is just the way of things. These are the results: nothing special, but as this blog is not only about success but the learning process I feel the need to post what I captured. (No worries though, the next shoot kicks ass!) Click on the images for a larger view.
