And thinking about the difference between photographer and artist.
First: the project. I was looking over my portfolio and realized that some of my best photographs are about loneliness and abandonment, which may or may not be a commentary on who I am as a person. Ha ha!
Seriously, though. I’m never lonely – who could be lonely with Sam the Wonder Pup around? – but solitude, quiet, and emptiness are things I’ve always been interested in, and they show up a lot in my photography.
I’m an only child, through and through, and an INFJ, if you follow the Meyers-Briggs, and have always been most comfortable by myself. That translates to photographs like these:
“Waiting on Independence Day,” in Santa Monica. This is one of two photographs that have made it into shows in New York. I loved that most of the chairs, on maybe the biggest beach day of the year in a major American city, were empty.
“Winter Lifeguard,” at Lake Santa Rosa in New Mexico. This image won best in show, and the juror told me she immediately “saw a story” in it.
There’s also this image, which isn’t my best, but it still haunts me. Made at the Oklahoma City Memorial.
The new project focuses on emptiness and abandonment, and possibly – I’m not kidding – chairs. (I even photographed a chair in San Diego this winter.)
I’m not saying it’ll only be chairs – I reserve the right to keep it loose – but it does seem to be a focus for me. What is it about chairs? I even have a collection of tiny chairs on a bookshelf in my office, so if you’re looking for gift ideas, there you go. Ha.
A simple answer is that generally we think of chairs as places of rest and comfort, yet in these three instances – and many more, I’m hoping to find – they don’t indicate that at all.
Now, I don’t know how often I’ll come across empty chairs in public, and since I don’t intend to storm private homes looking for good images, this project may take a while. But I do know it feels important and interesting to me, in a way that photographing the National Parks – which will continue, of course – doesn’t.
So, about that idea of photography vs. artistry. It probably warrants a whole other blog post, but I will say this: it’s one thing to make beautiful photographs of natural places, for example. It’s another thing entirely to tell stories with your photographs, and that’s what I’m aiming for now. I’ve raised the bar on myself, I suppose, and will share what I come up with here, as always. Wish me luck.
What do you think about this idea of technical skill vs. storytelling? Let us know in the comments.
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16 Comments
I don’t have an answer to your question. But I do have a commentary on the beginning part of this blog post. I’m also an only child, and I value my solitude. Not loneliness, as you’ve already pointed out. When I was a kid, there were two other little girls my age on my block. Any two of us could play together peacefully, but not all three. Inevitably there would be a fight and one of us would get shut out and go home angry or crying. It wasn’t always the same one (although it never seemed to be Valerie who was shut out – my mom referred to her as the “instigator,” LOL).
I was adopted at birth. I used to beg my mom to adopt a little sister for me. Her response – only half in jest, I think – was, “What if they give me another one like YOU?” (I was not an easy child. When I tell people this story, they are never surprised. I think I haven’t changed much. 😉 ) But I got to adolescence and realized that if I had a sibling, I’d have to learn to – horrors! – SHARE.
When I was the one shut out of those three-girl fights, I could retreat home to lick my wounds, and there were no siblings there to bug me. I could just be left alone.
Some days I *preferred* to stay home and amuse myself. I’d hook an extension cord to my bedside lamp, take it into my closet with a bunch of pillows, and sit in there and read all afternoon. My mom thought that was a bit odd, but (a) she knew where I was; and (b) I was READING, for Pete’s sake – not exactly a devious activity. It was … my “she shed,” if you will. It was cozy and private.
So there you have it. 🙂
Deborah – Wonderful story, thank you! I can totally relate, especially the part about retreating home, which is a classic introvert trait (and necessity). And I love the she-shed. 🙂
Did you not know that the “she shed” is the female equivalent of the “man cave”? LOL I didn’t make that up! 😉 (Plus they’re WAY cuter!)
https://www.google.com/search?q=she+shed&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiPxurlvtjaAhUoiVQKHd_UArcQ_AUICigB&biw=1270&bih=898
I got the reference, but I meant I particularly loved your take on it.
I think you’ll be surprised where you find chairs now that you have that in your head. Even in nature! I found challenges like that always made me see things and use my imagination in ways I might not have otherwise. It will be FUN!
Sherry – You’re probably right about the chairs, like how I now see R-pods everywhere I go, ha. I appreciate the encouragement!
thanks. Especially love the foto of the chairs.
Thank you, Ron!
The next time you are in Winner, may be something interesting in the old farm house or on the grounds. Love the blog and love this idea of your photography.
Great idea! Thanks, Mom.
First, please note my new email address which only you can see.
I am one of two children but have always valued my alone time. I’ve often traveled alone and found I was all the company I needed.
I love the focus of your photos. I have a number of chair photos also. Something about those empty chairs ….
Keep it up!
Emilie Vardaman recently posted…Corolla Wild Horses!
Emilie, I love the new email address. What is it about empty chairs? A simple, familiar object, but with such poignancy. Thank you for the encouragement!
I love this! It’s funny – I’m the oldest of nine kids. Growing up there were only six children (only!), but I still felt part of a crowd. always. I spent my entire childhood seeking solitude, quiet, personal space. It wasn’t just the environment, obviously; it’s who I am as a person. Even though I can and do enjoy other people, I am best one on one, and absolutely hate “events.” I worked as a journalist for years, and having a camera saved me countless times. Last night I went to a potluck. It was a totally cool thing – it was a kiln fire, watching students stoke a wood fire kiln that had been going all day. But I was completely uncomfortable until I remembered I had my cell phone. I started taking pictures, and then I was fine. No more nervousness. I had a job.
I think your new project sounds fascinating, and totally you. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.
Michelle – Thanks for sharing your story, and the camera as buffer makes total sense to me. And thanks for the encouragement! It’s a funny project because I can’t just march out every day, go to the abandoned chair park, and shoot. Ha. It’s more about getting out more often (I plan to get out on Wednesday for a mini road trip with Sam) and gathering material. Which will be fun and challenging, and will also build some new habits.
I like that you went back and found a re-occuring theme in your images. The last time I did that I found a lot of eggs. Can’t wait to see how this develops, Deonne!
I love the idea of eggs as a theme! I’m out on the road now and have seen zero empty chairs – but I remain vigilant. 🙂