I’ve been trying to take my foot off the gas pedal after a big month of exhibitions, openings and performances. I decided to stay away from my cameras and do some work with my hands (as well as my eyes…) As I’ve written about earlier on this blog, I am part of the International Union of Mail Artists, a quasi-federation of postal art enthusiasts scattered around the globe. This week I started making a series of 4” x 6” postcards to send out to fellow members. I have been working exclusively in collage for this project. I picked up a few vintage 1964 volumes from a children’s scientific encyclopedia at a thrift store, and have been combining found imagery from there along with old magazines and art books. The results I am calling “PROOF” which is a nod to another earlier idea I’ve had. Proof meaning: evidence of my existence, of a working brain, eyes and heart. Proof that art matters. Proof that sharing matters. Proof that I am alive. Here is a sample of the work I’ve been producing below. Who knows, one might just show up in your mailbox soon.
Ides of March / Seasonal Update
I thought I'd take this opportunity to check in with all my readers (maybe just one or two regulars, haha!) and fill you in on what I've been up to over the past few months. It's been a challenging time, and I've been doing my best to stay positive while focusing on my personal work, my health, and my life in general. The world around us can feel increasingly overwhelming, but thankfully, I have my studio—a true sanctuary. It's my safe space to create, reflect, and grow every day.
I’m excited to share that I currently have two exhibits here in Albuquerque. Over a week ago, I had the opening of my solo show at Zendo Coffee. The work on display is from my Burn Index desert series, which features photo collages with encaustic wax. The opening was really special to me. I had a great turnout and was thrilled to sell some pieces on the very first night. I also released a companion zine to coincide with the show, and I still have a few copies left. If you're interested, you can grab one by following this link.
As I write this, I’m preparing to head downtown to 516 ARTS, Albuquerque’s premier contemporary art space, where I'll be part of a group photography show titled New Tableau. The show is curated by a good friend of mine, Daniel Ulibarri, and features a mix of local and international photographers. I’m truly honored to be included in this exhibition. The work I’m showing at 516 ARTS is a very personal new series called Sic Transit Gloria Mundi. It explores my relationship with my father, who is featured prominently in the artwork. Like my previous work, these pieces combine photography and encaustics. The series consists of 31 images, each printed on old Latin textbook pages, mounted onto board, and then covered in wax.
While it’s incredibly exciting to have my work displayed, this also feels like a period of closure for me. It’s giving me the space to unplug and decompress, allowing me to focus on other things—like hitting the gym several times a week, working on my podcast, and dedicating time to my day job, which thankfully keeps the bills paid.
Looking ahead, I’m excited for the months to come. A trip to Sicily is on the horizon, which definitely adds a little excitement to my life! But I’m also eager to explore new creative avenues.
So, that’s my update! I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to as well—feel free to share in the comments.
A collage of images that I pounded out to avoid a few moments of boredom this morning.
Chairman of the Bored
There’s a song by Iggy Pop on his under-appreciated, early 1980s, return-to-form album “New Values” entitled “ I’m Bored.” The first time I heard the song I thought I had stumbled upon my own personal anthem, written just for me. My self-importance notwithstanding, the song resonated because being bored is maybe the most difficult state a modern person can find themself in. Cue the “think-piece du jour” about the evils of smartphones, the internet, social media, etc etc etc… Its a fact that most of us cannot bear to be alone in our own heads for very long. The pacifying distraction of a devise in our hands, the doom scrolling; it all makes sense when we realize we all just hate to be bored. Bored for 5 minutes, bored at a traffic light, bored waiting for a coffee at Starbucks, bored at 3am when we can’t sleep.
I am am guilty as charged, of course. My mind races constantly. I am easily distracted. I spend much of my day by myself, working from and working in my little art studio. I also produce a podcast, I do improv, I make collages, I burn negatives, I melt wax and paint it on my pictures. I listen to podcasts, I look at Instagram, I listen to Spotify while barely paying attention to the songs that blare all day long. I go down rabbit holes on YouTube. All of this while answering endless emails and doing Zoom calls, and writing scripts and reviewing ads and crunching budgets for my job.
However, it is my challenge in the coming year to sit in my boredom when it arises. Listen to my mind when is races, stripping away the distractions that make that inner voice drown away. It can seem as a form of meditation, or self torture, but it is something I need to reconcile, or at least accept. “Alright, doll face, come on and bore me.”
16 frames per second
My grandfather (on my mother’s side) was probably the earliest influence for my budding interest in film. He did not do anything intentionally to motivate me, but some of my earliest memories include his hovering around the rest of the family with a home movie camera. Years later, after he died, I was given his movie camera; my family figured out I’d probably be the only one with any use or interest in it.
I had no idea what kind of film this camera took, or really if it still worked after 40 years. Thankfully, some online sleuthing led me to the fantastic folks at the Film Photography Project. There I learned the camera used something called 8mm magazine film; sort of like Super 8 on steroids.Taking advantage of their film / process / scan service bundle, I decided to roll the dice and shoot a cartridge of film to see if the camera still worked. Lo and behold…it did!
My interest in moving images has blossomed over the past couple of years. I’ve been working with public domain footage and actual 16mm educational films to create new work via collage and re-photgraphy. The chance to shoot actual movie film myself seemed the logical next step. I’ve long been drawn to the film work of Robert Frank, and I particularly loved how he would print collages from his strips of movie footage. I have the luxury of doing my post-production work digitally, with Photoshop and Lightroom being my main conduits for manipulating and assembling my collages.
By picking and choosing which frames I want to use, I am able to juxtapose the 16 frames per second to provide ample “moments” to cull and combine with other frames. These images then get stacked into (currently) quadrants that I hope make some kind of connection for the viewer. The certainly keep me engaged and curious about what might emerge when you release one single image from it’s sequence and force it to work in another context. In essence, I am forcing moving images to act more like still photography. A challenge and a game of chance that I have thus far been intrigued by and motivated to do more of.
A Return to Palermo
I have been to Sicily numerous times, and each time I arrive in the capital of Palermo, I feel inspired to make photographs. The city is alive certainly; but at the same time, shows it age and history through the layers you can find simply by walking down the street. Here are a few images from my latest trip.
Live projections for Chatter; Albuquerque, NM 2017
Moving Pictures
For as long as I can remember, I've been captivated by the world of moving images. As a kid, I loved exploring various forms of media, from audio cassettes to videotapes. The concept of multimedia has always intrigued me. Before I even realized that one could be a serious artist or filmmaker, I was already fascinated by these formats. Throughout school and beyond, image making has been at the core of my creative pursuits, both professionally and personally.
Photography and cinema have always been closely linked in my mind. In recent years, I've delved even deeper into this relationship, incorporating stock footage, public domain films, and other cinematic sources into my artistic practice. One way I've channeled this creative curiosity is by adding video embellishments to live musical performances. I've long dreamed of creating stage projections akin to those at concerts I've attended, like Anton Corbijn's visuals for Depeche Mode or U2, or the underground film footage at 1980s concerts at the Ritz in New York City.
In the past few years, I've had the opportunity to create multiple video projections for Chatter, an Albuquerque-based chamber music ensemble. They have given me the creative freedom to experiment with video on a larger scale. However, the technology for projection software and video manipulation is constantly evolving. The simple software I once used is no longer supported, so I'm always on the lookout for new solutions.
Recently, I discovered a fantastic software called VDMX5. I have a huge project coming up in a few weeks that requires reliable software for live video manipulations in a concert setting. VDMX5 has proven to be the perfect solution. It's powerful, easy to learn, and highly customizable, meeting all my needs. Not only am I thrilled about this upcoming performance, but VDMX5 has sparked new ideas for future video projects and public performances. I can't wait to see what else I can create with this amazing software. A big thank you to the makers of VDMX5!
“Caution: Albuquerque” 2024
Back To The Streets
It has been a while since I grabbed a camera and went out with the specific intention to make photographs. So much time in my own head, in my studio, using my hands and my head… but maybe not so much my eyes…
Albuquerque… it is not New York or Paris or Tokyo…for sure… but it is my city and it is a place I know well, even if it confuses me, or frustrates me, or scares me (sometimes, it’s true)…I feel safe in a place I don’t know well, in all honesty (not recognizing threats, perhaps, or ignorant to them, or maybe Albuquerque is genuinely more dangerous than other places???)
Grabbing a big, serious camera and my trusty prism, I headed downtown yesterday for a few hours of wandering. At least during the daytime downtown’s bark is worse than it’s bite. And as is the case for as long as I’ve lived here, things are generally deserted during the weekend, as most storefronts are vacant and the government offices are empty of weekday workers. Add a cloudy, windy, threat of rain sky and conditions were right up my alley.
Using the prism has rejuvenated my enthusiasm for shooting in the streets… it bring a nice degree of serendipity and happenstance to the process, while still staying anchored (albeit very loosely) to reality. I find that complete abstraction ends up being of passing interest to me, in a photograph, anyway. And the truth of the matter is that an image made with a camera does in some way stay connected to the “real world.” Which ultimately is fine with me, as I myself need to stay connected to the “real world,” too.
A view through a prism; May 2024
a report from the studio
I spend most of my days in my studio. This is the benefit of remote working. As long as my laptop is open, emails rolling in, numerous Zoom meeting, etc… I am “on the clock.” The advantage of having all of my art supplies readily available is a blessing and a curse. My studio space resembles my brain in many ways. Sometimes I need to turn it off, which in this case means randomly pulling “work in progress” off the walls, so I can stop thinking about THE WORK for at least a little while. The upside of working in this environment is that I can dabbler with an idea at anytime, and garner quick results, via Lightroom and my decent Canon printer. Case in point, I got a bug up my ass yesterday about my ongoing boredom with “straight” photography. At the same time, complete abstraction seems too easy sometimes, or just a plain, self-indulgent mess other times. The problem (not really a problem) with photography in general is that it seems so intrinsically tied to the real world (broad generalization, I know.) Somehow, someway, reality need to peek it’s head into the camera, and onto the subsequent print, or else it drifts into something else, something (primarily) non-photographic. I’ve taken to shooting through prisms lately (as seen last year in full effect in Paris) and I think what I like about the approach (when it works…and often it doesn’t…) is that it breaks just enough from reality, and falls into the territory of “uniqueness.” Reflections and transparency wielded in a barely controllable manner, with a heavy helping of serendipity. It reaps non-repeatable results, for sure. Images that are only by me, for better or for worse. Even dabbling in the studio becomes a journey into unknown territory, and as the above image can attest, sometime the results are magic.
Treasure From Trash
From time to time, I spend a few hours in a community darkroom here in Albuquerque. Though it open to “select” members of the community, the nicest thing about it is that when I book time there, I have the entire darkroom to myself. No fighting over when to turn on the lights, and I can use multiple enlargers at the same time. I like to experiment with expired papers, odd exposure techniques, and often times, found negatives.
One a recent visit, I found some “failed” film on the ground, stuffed in the corner of the darkroom, covered in dust and dirt. A few rolls that someone had obviously loaded incorrectly into the developing tank, it had chemical marks, streaks, and plenty of evidence that the film stuck to itself during the processing. The creator obviously discarded the film, seeing no value in it. On the other hand, I find these kinds of mishaps intriguing. I sometime distress my film intentionally to get the kinds of random results that this artist clearly distanced themselves from. I rolled up the forgotten film and brought it back to my studio. I eventually got around to scanning it an manipulating it in Lightroom. I like the unrestricted chance to play with this film, allowing for panoramic abstractions that are more about the medium itself than the need for any recognizable image. I love the results. I suppose I should give credit to my anonymous collaborator. One person’s trash is another’s treasure, indeed.
Remembering Larry Fink
I was sad to hear over the past few days that photographer Larry Fink had passed away. Larry was of a generation of photographers, coming-of-age in the 1960s, when social consciousness was at the forefront of their work. Larry always struck a strong balance between documentary approach and fine art aesthetics. He was unique because, though he was social aware, his work was not simply dismissed as “cause” related. Maybe it was the Rembrandt-like lighting he often achieved with his flash. Larry is probably best known for his look at social stratification, the “haves” and the “have nots.” This work is the basis of much of Larry’s career, and is the featured subject of his outstanding book Social Graces from 1985.
It was around the time that this book was released that I first became aware of Larry Fink’s work. I was a college student at the time studying photography in New Jersey and I actually had a connection to Larry through a friend who worked as a darkroom assistant for him in nearby Pennsylvania. As part of my studies and involvement in the photography department, I thought it would be a good idea to reach out to Larry and see if he might come and meet with the fellow photo students at my school and also make a presentation. I got his phone number from the friend left him a message, and then lo and behold he called back, leaving me a message on an answering machine (old technology, I know…) The message made my film student roommate freak out that somebody of the caliber of Larry Fink would be leaving me a message. That’s the kind of world that we lived in that a figure such as Larry would make that kind of impression on us. Larry did agree to come spend a day with me and my fellow photo students, and he was charming and gracious ; very giving with his time, and I remember the work that he shared as part of his presentation left all of us inspired and impressed.
Needless to say, Larry’s whole career produced a string of stellar bodies of work. You can easily Google “Larry Fink, photographer” and see examples of his work. It’s sad when the greats of the medium pass on, but we are fortunate that they leave us inspiring bodies of work that will last far longer than any of us will. Thank you Larry, rest in peace.
