2022: 27 je suis

Sometimes I don’t consider myself as a “photographer” anymore. Yes, I primarily work in photo-based image making, but as far as “straight” photography goes…I have moved on. Yet I am uncomfortable disposing of the designation completely, and I feel that just calling myself an “artist” seems too general.

I have been going through a large body of work from a project that has taken over four years to shoot. I’ve been edit my selections via 4 x 6 prints. This has led to a preliminary layout for my next self-publishing project. Once that grouping was complete, I decided to take another pass at the “bleach, burn, scratch, cut and tape” process I started to utilize during the early days of the pandemic. This approach continues to interest me. It continues to surprise me. I get lost in the process, and never really know where it will all leading, image-wise.

Ultimately, I’m happy to consider anything I do as part of my creative practice and whatever label applies to me is secondary. Call me what you will.

2021: 14 Hey, Lomography!

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Short and sweet this week, since I actually just emerged from 5 days in the high desert of West Texas… a HUGE thank you to the great folks at Lomography for a featured article on their website and social media platforms that hits today. A nice deep dive into my latest “destruction” series, featuring (tongue in cheek) easy to follow instructions… so you too can make your own mess. All kidding aside, at numerous times in my life, Lomography films and cameras have inspired and reinvigorated my photography. It is indeed an honor to have my work featured by these film renegades.

Check out the full feature here:
https://www.lomography.com/magazine/346051-5-1-mastering-the-art-of-hand-manipulation-with-nick-tauro

2020: 47 (Burn Blister)

The experimentation that this fucked up year has ushered in for me continues. Hours working from home allows for frequent, albeit short, diversions into my personal work. The equation is simple enough: a stack of negatives, some bleach, sandpaper, a lighter, plastic wrap, sharpies and some time on my hands. What started as a “what if?” proposition has been continually rewarding. From 4x5 negatives to 35mm negatives, from black and white, now to color. Freedom to play, without worrying too much about failure. That is the key, I truly believe it. Failure is often something we try to avoid at all costs. However, without the risk of failure, how do we make discoveries? How do we advance, when we only tread on the well-worn path? I have burned a lot of film this year (wink, wink) and some of it goes promptly into the trash can. Then, every so often, a wonderful moment of happenstance occurs, and I get something that is truly unique. One of a kind, not to be repeated. I think Picasso was credited with saying “Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.” Or maybe it's vice versa. In any event, I’ve embraced this dictum, and it has reaped rewards both large and small. And since making art is often a dispensation of blood, sweat and tears, I’d like to add “blisters” to that list. Nothing like a drop of burning plastic on your finger to remind you what pain feels like.

2020:39 (Heading Into The Unknown)

As artists, we channel the outer world through our deepest inner mind, and then spew it back out for everyone to see (ourselves included.) I’ve been feeling creatively “bi-polar” lately… and I don’t meant diminish that actual condition, but it seems the most accurate way to describe my process. I took a road trip a few weeks ago, and looking at my images from that short jaunt, I see a very consistent approach. They look like “my” images for sure, but they also possess a quiet, staid, almost banal kind of presence. Nothing outstandingly original here, but a set of competent images. Since then, the pendulum has swung in a completely opposite direction. I’ve been shooting pinhole images, on a panoramic Holga, and a 4 x 5 wooden box camera, and the photos look nothing like the road trip photos. There is clearly a connection with some of my other work, and subject matter is more of the familiar environmental work I’ve been producing in the bosque. But after processing the film in my kitchen sink, I’ve been taking a radical approach to “post-processing” the images. I’ve been abusing the film with fire, with knives, with dirt; abrasions, scratches, bubbles, melting plastic, ash and rock. I dived deeply into an experimental phase with this direction. I am not sure where it is coming from, and I’m not sure where it is heading. I’ve overdone the technique many times, and I’ve pulled myself back from the edge of complete destruction of the film and number of times. I’ve also been fighting the overthinking that come along with most of my creative endeavors. What does it all mean? Is it any good? Why? Who cares? Still, I feel this direction is coming from deep inside of me, and I do have some suspicions that it is a reaction to the world we live in… well that’s fucking obvious, isn’t it? Forests are burning, edges are fraying, patience is crumbling, fevers are rising, destruction on so many fronts. Institutions are failing, stability is out of our reach, what do I have any control over? So, I am surrendering to the fire, to the dirt, to the happenstance, to the unpredictability… to existence, I suppose.