When
I go walking with my camera, the act of seeing becomes
a process of emotional intuition, and these pictures serve
as evidence of the strange and wonderful things I find.
Most of the work presented here was created in New Orleans,
my adopted hometown. It is, in part, a document of a fascinating
city. It is also a personal exploration of the world I
inhabit and a search for the sublime.
I take these pictures with a toy camera
called the Holga. It is a simple plastic device that lends
spontaneity to the act of photographing. It offers little
control in making exposures, but I’ve learned to
compensate for that in the darkroom. I print the resulting
images on traditional silver paper, then split-tone them
to add depth and color. This toning method can be unpredictable,
and like every other part of my process, it owes a bit
to serendipity.
In my photographs I attempt to invoke the
mystery and wonder of my surroundings, to share the joy
of seeing and quiet moments of revelation. I try to create
images that transcend literal description, to provoke
an emotional response to the subject matter, be it landscape
or shadow or car. With this work I hope to convey a sense
of time and place that is beautiful and sensual and serene.
Relics
relic
n. 1. Something that has survived the passage of time,
especially an object or custom whose original culture
has disappeared. 2. Something cherished for its age
or historic interest. 3. An object kept for its association
with the past; a memento. 4. An object of religious
veneration, especially a piece of the body or a personal
item of a saint. 5. or relics A corpse;
remains.
This series was inspired by the neighborhood
I call home. Most of these photographs were taken between
2001 and 2005 along streets that border the curve of
the Mississippi River connecting uptown to downtown
New Orleans. The area is old, unkempt, and a little
bit tough, with a mix of residential and industrial
uses. Brick warehouses and maritime chain yards that
fed (and feed) off the port are juxtaposed with turn
of the century working class houses.
This body of work is both formal and documentary in
nature. I am drawn to the shapes and textures of the
postindustrial urban landscape and feel compelled to
capture them for posterity. The area is rapidly changing,
due in part to the effects of both globalization and
gentrification. Warehouses sit empty, crumbling monuments
to the commerce and industry that once flourished here.
Simultaneously, some structures are finding second lives
through various forms of adaptive reuse. As a result,
the area is in an odd state of flux, flirting with both
decay and renewal.
While this project is based on my
immediate surroundings, it speaks to issues that are
affecting many urban centers. Perhaps the most dramatic
change to occur here is the arrival of a Wal-Mart, taking
over several acres of land where warehouses, industrial
shops and clapboard homes recently stood. Though I realize
change is inevitable, this one is symbolic to me of
larger issues affecting our country, as we shift from
a production to consumption based economy. So, out of
nostalgia for American industry in general and this
neighborhood in particular, I’ve made it my mission
to try and capture the patina, the funk, the grit, the
beautifully rusty underbelly, before it disappears completely.
Aftermath
As a photographer living in New Orleans the aftermath
of Hurricane Katrina was a reality I felt compelled
to document for posterity. However, it was several months
after returning home before I was emotionally prepared
to witness the worst of the devastation first hand.
Once confronted, it was impossible not to be awed by
the surreal juxtapositions wrought by nature. The majority
of the images in this series were taken in the now infamous
Lower 9th Ward within the first few months of 2006.
Nature/ Nurture
These studies focus on minute elements of the landscape,
both tame and wild. Working with a modified plastic
camera, I shot these images from the hip, honing in
on details, textures and light. From the seeds of a
spent rose, to a bee in the act of pollinating, these
photographs depict intimate visions of plant life as
it cycles from bud to seed.
Hurricane Story
I was nine months pregnant and due in less than a week
when Hurricane Katrina blew into the Gulf. In the early
hours of August 28, 2005 my husband and I loaded up our
small truck with two cats, two dogs, two crates full of
negatives, all our important papers and a few changes
of clothes. We evacuated to a motel in southern Alabama
and tried not to watch the news. Monday, August 29 brought
the convergence of two major life changing events; the
destruction of New Orleans and the birth of our son. It
was two long months and 6000 miles on the road before
we were able to return home.
Hurricane Story is a depiction of our family’s
evacuation experience - the birth, the travels and the
return. These photographs represent various elements of
our ordeal. The project began as a cathartic way to process
some of the lingering anger and anxiety over that bittersweet
journey. It grew into a narrative series of self-portraits
in toys that illustrate my experiences and emotional state
during our time in exile.
