moving through space.

(Click on the images to view larger...)

light shift

Just got these negatives back from the lab this week. I made these photographs shortly before the residency in late December, early in the morning of the winter solstice. It was a beautiful day. Something was changing, and something unknown seemed about to change. My sense was not inaccurate.

I'll admit, I was pretty irritated when I picked up this batch though; none of the new film I had taken last week post-residency came out; the film was blank. I was foiled by the mirror lockup on a lens I am borrowing. A good moment, perhaps, to practice non-attachment? It was disappointing though, as I was more interested in seeing what was was happening now with my changes in approach.

But, once I spent some time with this work, I started think about these questions and ideas...

How do we move through/observe/interact with space?
How does a slight shift in perspective change perception?

  
(I recommend clicking on this image to view larger...)

organizing my thoughts...

Saturday morning breakfast...

When I was in Boston for my residency, a few internal switches were flipped. I literally feel different and most of this is positive. I think that I am in transitional point in my work; much is changing and this is a good thing. Many of my assumptions and ideas are evolving in ways I would not have expected and I am glad. I had a few truly pivotal conversations/suggestions during the residency that provided direction, both in regards to my work and with my outlook on the bigger picture. I am fortunate and thankful to work with such great people.

I came back with a fair amount of energy and I very much want to keep that momentum going, especially since I have an intense schedule ahead for the next few months. I’ll be teaching 4 classes and continuing to run the Photo program/facilities at BCA while working on this second semester. Additionally, there will also likely be major transitions to deal with in the personal arena over the next few months. (Cue deep breathing.)

What I really want to do right now is focus on my work. And that is what I have been doing in nearly every moment outside of my obligations. I’m reading, writing, making images/video and spending quite a bit of time alone, working and thinking – something I was nearly unable to do for months. While I obviously wouldn’t describe this as completely easy right now, in general I feel pretty calm and focused. And strangely enough, I feel like I have more energy than I’ve had in many years.  There is a sense of rightness developing.

I am starting to be able to hear myself think. After so much being so suddenly and dramatically blown apart this past summer, I need this.

While the transition from the active, in-person AIB community in the city to the quietness iciness of northern VT was admittedly a little jarring, this week was productive. I shot 4 rolls of film, a set of short video clips, organized my notes, wrote my semester summary, ordered books, read some Sontag, submitted a AIR application, submitted some work to a show in CA, went to an orientation at VCam (free video equipment! free Final Cut Pro trainings!), started teaching one class and caught up with good friends here…. whew. Despite all that, I am actually still feeling behind (dealing with the house, teaching prep, emails, finding a mentor, etc. etc. etc.), but it will get done…

 Not kidding about the ice.

 I'll be spending alot of time here...

And here again I find myself up way too late, slightly delirious with tiredness, drinking peppermint tea and thinking, thinking, thinking…

The Eggleston Riot, or Notes on Teaching

A little something left on the lectern...

Over the 7 or so years during which I have been working with college students, my teaching approach has continuously changed as I rework my materials and thoughts surrounding teaching. When I first started learning photography myself in the late 90’s, I was taught in a traditional, craft-based vein. My teachers rarely talked about meaning or context for the work. I carried that craft-centric model forward when I first began teaching my own classes.

While I still believe that solid skills with the medium are important, I understand better now the importance of exposing my students to a variety of work and ideas surrounding the practice of making right from the start. I’m finding that it’s about striking a balance in these time-constrained foundation courses of both teaching the skills and teaching students how to begin to engage in the context of contemporary art. You need both.

My first day of teaching for the Spring semester was today, a section of Photo 1. This class is centered on the black and white darkroom process. The class runs weekly for 3 hours, which when you consider the learning curve involved with getting a handle on using a manual camera and understanding the process, isn’t much time. However, this semester, I am committed to incorporating more discussion surrounding meaning and context into the class as well as to exposing students to more artists. If that cuts into the hands-on time, we’ll work around it.

There is always a level of apprehension that comes with the first day. I can generally intuit how the semester is going to go and how the dynamics of the group may be after observing my class during that first meeting. I also know that my own mental state can reflected back to me when I am teaching – it’s like a mirror in some regards.

My class today had 12 students, with majors ranging from Graphic Design to Criminal Justice to Computer Networking to Elementary Education; no art majors. Most students had experience with a digital SLR and most had never worked with film. Reasons for taking the course were varied, with some students stating that they were interested in the “roots” of the process, or that they were simply just curious about film. Personally, I still find the whole silver-based process to be pretty amazing – there really is nothing like watching a print appear in the quiet orange light of the darkroom – and so I really do enjoy sharing this excitement with my students.

I brought a selection of work to show my class today. We started with some photographers we all know, Ansel Adams, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Minor White, Edward Weston… I brought up images and just asked the class to share what they thought and we talked about the basics of approach – the fully controlled landscape image, the decisive moment, abstraction, ect, as well as basic elements of composition. One young woman commented the sensuous nature of Weston’s iconic pepper and we then compared that image to one of his nudes. Seeing their sometimes-unadulterated excitement for the images was great, this class had thoughtful comments and opinions. Everyone who teaches will understand how nice it is when this happens; there is nothing as depressing as those silent, blank stares. We looked next at Julia Margaret Cameron, Sally Mann, Diane Arbus and Man Ray. The dream-like Romantic imagery of Cameron incited more varied opinions, some students seeming to completely fall in love and others feeling put off by the technical differences from the more traditional work we viewed first. Man Ray incited a flurry of desire to solarize. Arbus amused some and freaked out others.

We took a break and I showed them William Eggleston and Moyra Davey, two artists I am interested in at the moment. The first image we looked at led us straight into a conversation I hadn’t planned – I love it when things manifest in the classroom in interesting and unexpected ways. This image was Eggleston’s photograph of a light bulb on a red ceiling.  There was some serious and heated questioning of the validity of the work. One student finally said, exasperated, “Can you just shoot anything and call it art?” Which led to an interesting dialogue on context and intent bringing us to look at some non-photographic conceptual work. We moved to Davey’s piece, The Coffee Shop/The Library.  They struggled with some of the less aesthetic images but the interactive nature of this project sparked interest, which led to the next question from another student – “Why call it photography?” Yes, why indeed? It's good to question our preconceived notions of what photography is.

I’m excited to see where the conversation leads with this group and to see what manifests in my other sections next week. Today was a simple and welcome reminder of why I so enjoy teaching - and that it's really to my and my students' benefit to continually change and evolve my teaching practices. 

Video Stills: Sunday

The start of something...

 

transition north.

Back in Vermont, it's almost 11pm. It's extremely cold (4 below zero) and quiet.

I am simultaneously tired and energetic, calm and wired.  My body and my brain are pacing; I'm finding myself wandering around the house, feeling like I need something, or maybe that I need to do something. Laundry? Bills? Tea? A snack? Maybe I should prep one of my classes? I did want to make a new presentation for my first lecture on Tuesday.... Or maybe I should make grocery list? Having food in the house is generally a good idea. I could unpack... or upload video clips from the trip home? Catch up on correspondence? Research? Read? Take some images? Organize my pile of notes?

I'm not choosing very well. I've opened the fridge five times, finally settling on a piece of cheese which I ate standing at the counter. I stared at my tea shelf and even that seemed like an impossible decision. Laundry and bills feel like too much of a commitment at this hour.... maybe I just need to hang out with my cat and call it a night. I think I'll add some plain nettle tea and Susan Sontag to that plan and table the rest of it until the morning.

turning.

There are moments when everything changes so quickly and so intensely... and the consequential feelings surrounding these moments then change with equal speed and intensity in ways unexpected. The explosion happens, chaos ensues – and then the dust settles. You look around, disoriented, and everything looks different. The silence after is deafening, resounding. The grief for what has been lost is real; explosions can cause injury and destruction, but when you look up you realize that a major blockade you didn’t even see in front of you was removed. The potential for light is so real that you’re completely blinded by it. You feel your insides rearranging – the emotional becomes physically tangible - it’s uncomfortable in its uncertainty, but you realize that the newness and the difference is so profound that you could never go back to having that blockade in front of the sun…

an archive of mornings.

Untitled from Mary Zompetti on Vimeo.

In this semester's critical theory seminar, we had a short assignment to create an archive. This short video is simply 3 moments from my mornings for 4 days, all taken during the time shortly after waking. This is a fairly quick edit.

interruptions.

Untitled from Mary Zompetti on Vimeo.

During my time in Iceland, I took some short video clips. I merged these clips together into a longer piece as a reflection on being lost in the landscape...

I then began to consider the nature of intrusive thoughts and how quickly these thoughts can pull us out of the present moment, causing us to project backwards into memory and forward into concern... so often I would lose myself in thought and I would stop noticing my surroundings.

When I returned home, I took short clips of my changing home, and integrated these clips into the longer Iceland piece – these “home” clips serve to distract the viewer from the landscape - the “present” - and to comment on the nature of thought process as well as the illusion of memory and projection...