Migratory Cotton Picker, Eloy, Arizona

There are so few photo's that I love as much as Dorothea Lange's Migratory Cotton Picker, Eloy, Arizona. In fact, I think it might be my all time favorite. Every time I see this photograph I feel an overwhelming need to jump back to November 1940, stand right next to Dorothea and watch her make this image.

Unfortunately, I can't do that. But when I had the opportunity to go see what I think might be the largest printing of this image that exists in Sarah Meister's show Dorothea Lange: Words & Pictures, I knew I needed to go. And so that is what I did.

One day before the show was slated to close, I took the 4 hour train from Boston to NYC and went to MoMA. It was one of the most worth while trips I have ever taken and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I had never seen the photo so life size before–only in a small print at the Boston MFA. I felt so overwhelmed with joy upon walking up to it that I could not help but cry a little bit.

I have no idea why this image means so much to me but I have the rest of my life to figure it out.

All the best,

Parker

P.S. Thank you to the wonderful stranger who took my photo... you made my day.

Looking at: Beautiful Coincidences

Wow, it's been quite a while since I've made a post. Which in all honesty seems to be the pace around here; short bursts of posts every couple of months or so. None the less, I'm still here.

This evening I wanted to take a moment and highlight a beautiful coincidence that I happened onto this summer. In July, I had the joy of visiting my close friend Marie in Oregon for a costal/rural road trip. This was my first time in Oregon and the farthest West I have gone in my life. One of the many features I discovered during our excursion was the abundance of wild flower fields along rural highways.

On our second day of travel, leaving from Eugene towards Devil's Punchbowl, I coaxed Marie into climbing through one of these fields for the sake of a few pictures. I snapped a few Polaroids as well as digital for about 10 minutes or so, climbing through prickly, sometimes waist high grass. It was about this time Marie began complaining of some severe itching and we carefully climbed out of there.

Back on the road, I pulled out the images from where they sat safely tucked in my pocket, shielded from the summer sun. Shuffling through the pictures, one stood out. Marked by the distinct summer hue of a warm Polaroid, was a picture of Marie. Her eyes closed, cheek slightly rotated with flowers just ever so slightly draping over her. 

I went on to take a couple dozen or so more Polaroids on that trip but none quite as alluring as this.

Marie in roadside flower field. Oregon, July, 2020.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, back home now, and a used photobook arrived in my mail: Intimacies by French photographer Édouard Boubat. Flipping through the book and nearing the end I came across a photo that was strikingly familiar.

After scanning the image with a burst of excitement, I got Marie on the phone to share my discovery: 44 years prior Boubat at taken almost the exact same image in an Oregon wild flower field. I couldn't believe it.

It's the coincidences and connections like these, to people I have never met and worlds I would never otherwise experience, that drive me to continue to make pictures. Pure bliss.

The trip into the fields and another like it led Marie
and I to discover her allergy of tall grasses. Oregon, July, 2020.

My cover of Intimacies.

With more to come.

All the best,

Parker

Looking at: Grave II

I hope to have some longer form writing here in the future. At the moment I'm head first in the life and work of William Christenberry, a great hero of mine. I just wanted to take a moment and share this wonderful painting, Grave II (1964). It depicts a scene that was often the subject of Bill's little color snapshots, those colorful graveyards so frequently found on Southern backroads.

William Christenberry, Grave II, c. 1964, Oil on canvas.

In The Early Years 1954-1968, Christenberry offers greater context for this piece:

"I was at that graveyard, which I go back to to this day. After all these years I continue to go back to it. And I'm there and one of those late spring monsoon-like rain showers comes up. He went to his car. parked a few feet away, and waited for the shower to pass. "The sun comes out and the landscape is literally steaming. And here is this wreath on a fresh mound of red earth, this fresh grave. This wreath of flowers was made out of crepe paper. That wreath is literally dripping lavender, blue and pink dyes. It is dripping color." 

William Christenberry, New Grave--Havana, Alabama, c. 1978.

William Christenberry, Grave, Windy Day, Stewart, Alabama, c. 1964.

William Christenberry, Untitled (Wreath on Tomb), c. 1977.

All the best,

Parker

African American Snapshots, James Van Der Zee, an Original Print?

For the last year or so I have been a pretty casual collector of snapshot images and related photographic ephemera. I initially started this many years ago through casual browsing of antique stores and junk shops throughout rural South Carolina. After coming back home from school early due to COVID, I was left with quite a lot of free time and very little motivation to go out and make pictures. Instead, I took up this quasi-image making by buying other peoples photographs on eBay. This curation seemed to largely satisfy my attachment to photos, photo history, etc..

After about 2 or 3 months of this I came to the realization — partially due to the racial reckoning of 2020 — that my collection contained not a single photograph of an African American or person of color (at least not immediately discernible). The next logical step was to search for African American photographs. This was made easy by the evident labeling as "African American" of the comparatively few snapshots that were listed.

When searching for "snapshot" under collectible images on eBay, refined by "original print," I am yielded 281,695. When doing the same for "african american," I am yielded a mere 2,387 results. When I narrow my search even further by selecting "Vintage & Antique (Pre-1940)", only 572 results. As my collection is made up of primarily pre-1940's photographs, I have an incredibly small pool to work with. This is nice for searching the overall pool but reflects the incredible lack of early 20th century vernacular images of African American domestic life.

So far I have only discussed this briefly with my professor who focuses on topics of race and the American Civil war. Though, I hope to focus more on this topic for a thesis or more expansive essay.

...

A few weeks ago while searching for AA snapshots, I came across a listing of a photo from a black wedding in 1926. I was immediately interested because of 1) the subject matter 2) period and 3) size of the image. After a little research I discovered the image was by James Van Der Zee, a prominent Harlem Renaissance photographer. The seller, from New York, had very little information about the print and I could find only one very low resolution copy online.

The general aging and paper quality has me optimistic this is an original print by the artist or from the original negative. While I am optimistic I won't get my hopes too high. Either way this is an incredible image and I am excited to have a copy of it. I plan on reaching out to the Howard Greenberg Gallery, who is the authority on Van Der Zee, in the near future to assess the find.

As always, hope you enjoyed this one.

All the best,

Parker

Lee Friedlander Photographs William Christenberry

 I have long been a serious admirer of Lee Friedlander and William Christenberry. Lee for his enduring, unique vision and Bill for his significant contributions to Southern visual arts. Coincidentally the pair had been decades long friends which, in true Friedlander fashion, he unwaveringly documented. In reading more about their relationship I came across this portrait of Bill taken by Lee, which immediately struck me as a testament to Lee's status as a master portraitist.

The print has a contrast I would consider uncharacteristic of a Friedlander photo, likely attributed to the incoming beams of late afternoon light. Bill's frozen, pensive stare evokes the feeling of an action interrupted by a sudden realization. You can spot where Lee dodged Bill's hand and arm to emphasize his frozen posture.

I especially love the peaked highlights on Bill's forehead and cheeks — in parallel to the glowing orb of the lamp — intensified by the shadows of blinds.

Lee Friedlander, William Christenberry, c. 1990

I really enjoyed writing this little piece and really hope to do more like this in the future. I would like to get better at writing about photography and photos, especially so that I can write lengthier pieces. So far I feel like I have a lot of ideas but I can't quite put my finger on how to write about their impact, emotion, etc. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one.

All the best,

Parker