Easter Weekend

"I love reading the obituaries because they always say such nice things about people." -Mom

New Work

Untitled, I AM A MAN, series


Untitled, I AM A MAN, series

decisions, decisions

Untitled, I AM A MAN, series


After much deliberation and many misunderstandings, I have decided that I will be exhibiting a selection of images of Mik in the Parsons Senior show, which opens May 6th st Calumet Gallery(22 west 22nd street), and I will be showing selections from my I AM A MAN, series at Zami Like Me:Queer Womyn of Color CipHER. The latter happens on April 19th and 20th and I will also (along with many other badass sisters) be performing Sunday night so mark your calendars.

look closer

still shaking it

These are sad times for photographers and I know I'm not alone in this. It looks like Polaroid as we know it is over for the second time. Sources say that Polaroid instant film will be available through next year, but being the skeptic I am I ordered $300 worth online in a panic as soon as I noticed both B and H and Adorama were either sold out of my preferred kinds or back ordered.

Although production has ceased for my beloved instant film, there is still a possibility that it could rise again, but I'm not counting on it. I'm thinking its time to go shopping for a fridge so I can start really storing up.

Tears actually came to my eyes when I first heard about all this. I never really thought about how attached I am to instant Polaroid film until now. I just took it for granted that it would always be around. The first camera I had that was all mine was a Polaroid. It was a present from my father for my seventh birthday. I still have many of those images and I still shoot with that camera (see above evidence). As my nostalgia progresses and I return to CT to shoot and go through boxes of old photos, you can all look forward to seeing scans of these in the near future.

When critiques are good

Simone Douglas guest taught my Senior Seminar class last week and had a lot of insightful things to say about the work I've been doing on my family. I was afraid that I would have to spend too much time explaining my work to someone who had never seen it before, but to the contrary she picked up on deeper themes in a way I don't think anyone else looking at them has. She understood the reasons behind my compositional choices and saw poetry in them. Moreover, she saw the subtleties in what I've been trying to say about the subject and the environment, the way I've made rooms into landscapes. Refreshing for once not to merely hear, so why are you photographing your family? Yawn. But she didn't just saturate me with praise - she gave me things to look for and strengths to emphasize in terms of making the compositional choices more apparent and developing them as a theme throughout. I will definitely be contacting her again as the work progresses.

I really want to put this image on my business card

but G. says it's "too depressing" and "not commercially viable enough"

Any thoughts?

in seeming contradiction and in a chase for beauty

I have been in an ongoing dialogue with a mentor of mine concerning the nature of photography and the responsibility of the artist. This is a portion of said dialogue which stemmed out of our reactions to the Richard Prince exhibit at the Guggenheim and Kara Walker's exhibit at the Whitney.


To begin to answer your questions because these are issues to which I have given a great deal of thought and most likely will continue to do throughout my life as they always need re-examining:



1. I begrudge what I see as Prince's white universal given the context of the show - I do not mind that it is distinctly white I mind that it is not consciously white. I don't think work needs to be explicitly political or didactic - I want things to be beautiful as much as I want them to be smart - but the way Prince leaves race hovering almost imperceptibly in the background feels insulting at best.



2. Moreover - have you ever read Langston Hughes' "Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain"? He addresses these issues and I have always found that essay particularly inspiring - not without a hint of irony however given the closeted nature of his male-male sexual relations. In any case, I don't think that black artists have some sort of moral imperative or responsibility to create didactic art or anti-racist propaganda. I would certainly hope that you wouldn't situate me in that camp. I strive to create things of beauty that often elicit exploration of issues considered to be political....let me put this a different way. I think some of the difficulty I have had in trying to explain my work has come from the fact that I have been making a separation between emotion and intellect. This separation is artificial. Take my pictures of Mik for example - I photograph him because I find him remarkable, one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen. On an intellectual level - I know the two-sex model to be a construction, but I've seen and known many trannies before and not felt the urge to photograph them. It is my attraction to Mik that inspires my pictures not some desire to educate people on gender fluctuations. A million years from now, I would hope they still stand as strong images, inspired pictures taken by a lover - no matter what the current belief system is. I aspire to be like James Baldwin - the lush beauty of his prose is unparalleled and yet he was sharply political. I don't see any contradiction in that. Furthermore, I think that if you hit people with emotion, well crafted explorations of the complexity of human experience this is what moves people, keeps us connected. I don't want to teach anyone a moral lesson or show them that queers and blacks are people too. I would like people to first enjoy my pictures and then hopefully think about them and whatever my images may or may not mean to them is fine by me. Yes - I often have a point but I just as frequently take a picture because it is pleasurable to me, because I want to see what something looks like photographed.



Also - I think that being a person of color or a queer or working class or whatever will inform a persons work and they shouldn't run from it however it comes out. The best work is honest work I think. Whether it is didactic or not in my world is irrelevant. I just think that denying one's subject position is poison to an artist as it results in work that is sterile and detached. I think in your choice of subjects and the dignity with which you photograph them speaks volumes about you as a person - making a beautiful picture of someone that is not considered beautiful can be a strongly political act but at the end of the day we both want to make images that outlast whatever political relevance they may have, no? I am thinking now of a novel like "The Well of Loneliness" - what an important historical document but what a chore to read - I would never want someone to assess my work in that manner and I don't think you would either. Our thinking may be more in line than you realize...



You are right in your observation that these beliefs exist and they do merit additional exploration for sure. I have experienced it personally during my poetry performances it is often only during my pieces that are explicitly about "the black experience" that I receive hoots and hollers from brown folk and I do find that sad.



I would love to discuss these issues further if you have the time. I have to finish getting ready to leave the house now.

water

Mississippi River, August 2007 Fire Island, June 2007

Swamped with work, no time to finish any new posts so you guys will just have to settle for some photos I took over the summer. At work right now and I can't focus enough to write with constant interruptions so I was re-editing stuff I shot over the summer. I noticed these two that I originally overlooked and I like the way they work together. An art rep came to my class on Monday and we looked at a lot of photographer's books so I have been thinking a lot about pacing lately. I am excited to start work on my book.

Leaves

Sometimes I take a picture and I don't even know why I do it except that I saw something I wanted to hold forever.

Here is where I want to be

A Boi's Glory is in his Hair

I remember the first time I noticed them - these little black hairs sticking out from his chin. It was karaoke night at the Otter. It was our first extended conversation and we were talking about Alice Walker and different feminisms in between locking eyes and grinning and turning away, laughing at our awkwardness even as our discussion was serious. It was also our first interaction under reasonably bright light. I remember remarking on how odd that a bar should be so bright. My eyes traveled from his naturally ink black hair to the hunter green of his eyes and to these little whiskers on his chin. I figured he was genderqueer but I didn't yet know how he felt about transitioning. In any case, I found his gender transgression as evinced by the presence of those hairs to be beautiful and brave and incredibly hot.

Whiskers I, St. Paul August 2007

The next afternoon, I saw them even clearer as we stood kissing on his porch, the unseasonably warm February sun glinting off them. Sadly, the next time I saw him they were gone. I could tell by the little red swellings on his chin that they had been plucked. I didn't say anything because I didn't think we were at that stage yet. I hoped inside that he had not done this for my sake and I cursed myself for not praising his whiskers sooner.
A few months went by and I began feeling comfortable so I dropped some subtle hints. What happened to your little hairs? And when he would mention plucking - You know, you don't have to do that for me. Until finally, once I grew comfortable - I love your whiskers! Bring them back!
So the whiskers made a glorious come back. It turns out my love liked his whiskers, but felt like other people would find them weird or problematic as they misgender him as female.

Whiskers II, New York October 2007

My love told me that people stare at them. I stare too.

I am so in love it is ridiculous

Sunrise, New York June 2007

Dangerous, New York October 2007

I have been photographing my lover since before I knew him, before we spoke a word. Its weird to think about. I love it - I have never photographed someone so extensively before. I've never been inspired to. We have a whole record of our relationship in photographs. What a gift! To have that - you can watch us falling in love.
I think of my photographs as a tribute to him. When I first saw my love, I felt so overwhelmed by so many different things. I felt like suddenly I understood what Alfred Stieglitz saw when he saw Georgia O'Keefe. But I never imagined it could be this good.