LensCulture’s 2018 Emerging Talent Awards

Cachoeira_ Brasil_-2

Santos Antônio de Pádua. Misiones Jesuitas Sao Francisco Rio de Igreja. Bahia, Brasil. 2015.

I’m very delighted and honoured to have been included in this year’s LensCulture Emerging Talents Award. Thank you to the Jurors for picking me as one of the top 50. The work is part of my on going project “This Miracle.”

True story: From time to time I go through my spam email in case something was thrown into it by mistake. The letter from Jim Casper informing me that I was selected was in that pile from a few days prior. Even though I doubted it was spam, I had to find out. So I wrote to him in a separate email (I had to be safe, after all). Amazingly, it was not spam. As you already know…

Salvador, Bahia, Brazil

Light Bulb. Salvador, Bahia, Brasil. 2017.

Chapada Diamantina

Living Room. Arandai, Chapada Diamantina, Bahia, Brasil. 2017.

Quilombo near Cachoeira, Bahia, Brasil-2

Curtain in quilombo home. Outside Cachoeira, Bahia, Brasil. 2015.


11th Julia Margaret Cameron Award for Women Photographers

Bed. Arandai, Chapada Diamentina, Bahia, Brasil. 2017.

I’m very honoured to have won Runner Up in the 11th Julia Cameron Award for the Abstract & Still Life category. Thank you to the Jurors. The work is part of my on going project “This Miracle” which is a personal exploration into the human landscape in Bahia, Brasil.

Family Photograph. Beira Rio, Chapada Diamentina, Bahia, Brazil. 2017.

Living Room. Santiago de Iguape, Bahia, Brasil. 2017.

Floor. Arandai, Chapada Diamentina, Bahia, Brasil. 2017

The Salton Sea Redux

Seeding Artichoke in the Fields. Imperial Valley, California. 2018.

This is the first time I’ve visited the Salton Sea in April. It is a much greener time of the year and the flowers are beautiful. It’s all about flora today (although not all green).

Wetland. Managed Marsh Complex for Hunting. The Salton Sea, California. 2018.

Your guess is as good as mine, here. If anyone knows what this shrub(?) is please let me know. Road off the Fountain of Youth Spa, Imperial Valley, California. 2018.

Imperial Wildlife Area. Finney-Ramer Unit. Imperial Valley, California. 2018.

Burned Tree. Desert Shores, California. 2018.

Palm Trees. Imperial Irrigation District (IID) Land. The Salton Sea, California. 2018.

Flowers. Imperial Irrigation District (IID) Land. The Salton Sea, California. 2018.

Is Bigger Better? Perhaps.

Yours Truly in front of Siren Song (exhibition view at the Griffin Museum of Photography, Winchester, MA). 2018. Photo Credit: Natalie Schaefer

I am of the belief that a photograph isn’t truly a photograph until it is a print. Perhaps I am “stuck in the past.” Nonetheless, to me, making a print is the final step in the photography workflow without which the image cannot becomes the object it is meant to be. When trying to produce the best rendering of the picture – a true surrogate of the world I photographed – I find that looking at the print, rather than viewing it on a screen, best shows me what needs tweaking. I can then re-process and re-print.

If you’ve read my blog you know that I have been taking photos at the Salton Sea, in California, for nearly three years now. After the first two trips, I began making 4″x6″ prints so that I could easily pin them on my wall and move them around – to live with them, if you will. Over time, I experimented with various printing paper to get the right “feel of place” that worked with the image, colour palette, and light. Paper choice was critical and I ended up producing 5″x7″ proofs on bright, matte paper. Through this process I also realised that intimacy was key to viewing the work and decided that I would make most of my prints no larger than this.

The point of a small picture is the sense of privacy it affords the viewer. Only one person at a time can move in close to see it. The picture becomes a metaphor for an interior space. Small photos feel more personal; they remind us of old family albums, where we can touch and hold the pictures so that our senses are filled with memory.

However, for numerous reasons, I recently experimented with printing this body of work larger. Though it should have come as no surprise I was struck by how much more detail I could see with the bigger print. This inevitably led me to experiment with larger and still larger prints, until the photos felt as though I could almost walk into them. Despite their intimacy, small prints simply could not create that feeling.

Scale clearly affects  how the image is viewed, the degree of depth that can be seen, and the emotional impact it elicits. The physicality of larger prints seems to place the images into the physical world and allow them breathing room – encouraging the viewer to both move further back and closer in. Yet, much as too-small pictures may actually become lost, too-large prints run the risk of being dominant.

Thus, a next step for me is to print bigger again and play with various sizes of sequenced photos – to see how the body and mind react to and perceive their placement together.

It has been a gradual learning process for me. Finding the appropriate scale for the pictures , along with the tools I use as a photographer (from camera to computer to printing paper), helps create the photograph as an artifact and contributes to the tangible experience of viewing the final print.

Siren Song (exhibition view at the Griffin Museum of Photography, Winchester, MA). The smaller photos are 5″x7″ and the largest are 17″x 22.”  2018.

A Jaunt to NYC. AKA New York, New York!

Back Yard. New York, New York. February 25, 2018.

Storefront on 8th Avenue. A view from the M20 bus. New York, New York. February 26, 2018.

Hats for sale on Lexington Avenue. New York, New York. February 26, 2018.

Inside a cafe on Hudson Street. New York New York. February 28, 2018.

Looking our from inside the Amtrak train somewhere near Kingston Rhode Island. February 28, 2018.