As the production of Displaced comes to close, I thought it would be an appropriate time to share my thanks and gratitude to the people who helped me complete this project.
I am often asked whose work inspires me? And in the past I have quickly rattled off the names of the famous photographers whose books I collect and work I follow. In truth, it is the people below who have provided the most influence, inspiration and help to me. To them I say sincerely, thank you. Without your guidance, the images themselves would not exist, the prints would not express the beauty in the images, the story of this period of my life would not have been told, and I would not be the stronger, more independent person that I am today. This work is as much yours as it is mine.
KAREN KEATING
I met Karen Keating sometime in 2005 or 2006. At the time, she was leading a critique group in Maryland at Photoworks, a center for photography servicing the Washington, DC community that houses a gallery, traditional and digital darkrooms, and work space. I went to her critique group for the first time, hesitantly. I had hardly shown my photographs before and while I had been through some brutal reviews in architecture school, I didn’t know what to expect. I was so nervous that I remember stuttering when I talked about the darkroom prints I was presenting from a series on Charleston, West Virginia. When I laid the prints down, I felt humiliated, my eyes roaming from flaw to flaw.
I think Karen could sense my fear. She gently encouraged me to just keep printing, that the flaws I was seeing, she wasn’t. Looking back, I think I was so nervous because I was desperate to make really good prints. I was losing control of other parts of my life and making photographs was one of the few things that I could control.
For years after that first meeting, Karen slowly helped me see what was good about my work, and what needed improvement. Through her informative discussions, constructive criticism, and keen eye, I began to learn not only about what is good work, but how to talk about images. Now, when I lead my own critique group, I am constantly measuring my own commentary to hers, Was that constructive enough? Was that too harsh? Was that not enough? Was it too much? Is that image too dark or too contrasty? Does this image fit in the body of work? Am I sure this image should go first?, etc. Mostly importantly, I try to treat everyone with a high level of respect and dignity, no matter what kind of work they bring, no matter what level they are at. Karen has taught me so much, but I think her biggest gift was an ability now to guide others hopefully as masterfully as she does…
TYLER BOLEY
Almost immediately after I left that first meeting with Karen, I decided I wanted to switch from darkroom to digital printing. I invested a lot in the darkroom I had at home, but I wasn’t getting the level of control that I wanted and wasn’t able to carve out enough time to be in the darkroom to make any real progress. I didn’t know what I was entering into, but figured that my experience in graphic design would at least make the transition easier for me than it was for others.
In my quest for achieving the best possible prints, I started reading about Jon Cone’s inks for Epson printers and the type of printing he developed call piezography. I didn’t know much about it, but I was immediately excited seeing how much of an improvement Jon’s inks were over Epson’s. Click here for an introduction… I wanted to learn more about piezography and digital printing in general. So in the Spring of 2007, I took a digital printing & piezography workshop with Tyler Boley up at Jon Cone’s studios in Vermont.
A few summers before that, I took a darkroom printing class with George Tice at the Maine Media Workshops. What I learned from him was how a black and white print should look. I needed to learn from Tyler how to achieve that printing digitally. The first day he spent hours laying out a ton of digital prints, some his, some from others’ work that he had printed, both in black and white and color. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I think I got goose bumps looking at the black and white prints, I had never seen such beautiful prints in my life, darkroom or digital. The tone of the prints and the perfect execution left me speechless. I was printing on glossy paper up to that point, and was stunned by the soft beauty of the work on the matte rag paper. I hadn’t photographed yet in Nova Scotia, but I think that seeing these prints helped me previsualize what the final prints could be when I did finally make it there in the summer of 2007. Seeing Harry Callahan’s work years earlier at the National Gallery of Art had confirmed for me what kind of photographer I wanted to be. Seeing Tyler’s prints confirmed for me what kind of printer I wanted to be.
During that week, and the years that followed, Tyler generously helped me reach the level of craft that I had dreamed of when I first showed my prints to Karen Keating. He helped me bridge the gap from merely having good negatives, to producing good photographs. I would never have been able to reach the point I have without his help. Whenever someone looks through the book or at prints and says, “I didn’t know prints could look like this,” I think of Tyler and how many people he has helped, people he’s never met, nor ever will likely meet—people who have no idea that they are benefiting from his expertise. All of us photographers that really care about the craft of printing are indebted to him and his willingness to experiment and push the boundaries of printing in ways that haven’t trickled down to the masses… yet.
JOEL PRESTON SMITH
I started talking to Joel through a fan letter that he sent me. He is originally from West Virginia and one of his uncles had seen my work titled The Other Charleston about the state’s capital, and told Joel about it.
When I read the letter, I decided to look up his work and was astounded by his images, taken just before and after the invasion of Iraq in 2003. He has a completely different shooting style than I do—he goes for in-your-face drama, for impact, for power; I go for quiet, peace, and subtlety. I had never been so impressed, not just with the images, but with his incredible writing talent as well. I can’t think of any other photographer that I have ever encountered, who has his combination of abilities—for photography and writing. It is a unique set of skills and craft that will forever influence the standard by which I measure my own work.
Of anyone, Joel has been there guiding me from beginning to end in this work. He is a very confident viewer—he knows what he likes and what he doesn’t and is generous enough to share his opinion with the belief that it is a gift rather than a burden to truly know what people think when they look at your images. I deeply value and respect that. There aren’t many people out there that are brave enough to share what they really think. It is a offering Joel has given me time and time again, and he has made my work stronger and stronger. He has affected every part of who I am and I believe has made improvements in my ability to see, compose, edit, sequence and write.
Without Joel continually pushing me (while kicking and screaming at times), I would not be the photographer I am. He has been one of the few to ever encourage me to face the fears that have plagued me for decades, and showed me, through actions of his own, and through faith in me (even when I gave him reasons not to)—how to be a better, kinder, more open and giving person. These are gifts that I sadly will not be able to repay in any way except with my own improvement and contribution to the world. I will continue to try…
KIRSTEN RIAN
I haven’t known Kirsten Rian that long. We met in March, 2009, just about a year ago when I asked her to review my work and give me some direction for the upcoming portfolio reviews at PhotoLucida. When I presented my Nova Scotia images to her, the first question she asked was, Why did you go there? When I gave some vague answer, she asked again, Yes, but why did you go there? Eventually, I answered her directly, I was separating from my husband, and I needed to reclaim myself. Aaaah, she said, yes, now I see it. I hadn’t been sharing that aspect of the work before that moment. I think she saw me tearing up and I could tell, there was some kind of understanding between us. I didn’t know if she had been married, or divorced, or had been in difficult relationships before, but she looked at me and I just knew she understood what the work was about, and what I was about.
Since that first meeting, Kirsten has been like a sister to me, the much-needed mentor and friend that I have longed for since I started photographing. As a writer, musician, painter herself, she brings a different perspective. As a photography curator and former gallery director, she brings a common understanding. She has an acute eye for imagery and for what works and what doesn’t and she is one of the few people that has actually, through example, been able to share the secret to how to sequence images. The ideas that I have about my own work, the insecurities that I have, are often set free by Kirsten’s mutual understanding.
I think she is the most overall talented person I know, capable of accomplishing anything she wants to. Every time I talk to her I learn about some new part of her life that I didn’t know before—some major book she edited, the indie music label she started, the book deal she helped secure for another artist. Her talents are vast, her commitment to fine art, unwavering. She is a model to me where there are few, of dedication and perseverance. As I move forward, her opinion, in life and in art become more and more invaluable. I can’t imagine not having her in my life.
Of course I will never really be able to thank them, or express how deeply their knowledge, kindness and generosity has helped me. All I can say is that the time during which I was creating the work in this book was the most difficult and challenging of my life. Each of these people, in their own way, offered a lifeline out of hopelessness. Any success that I may have in the future, they each have a hand in—and I am grateful for them.