Rising Photographers / I

'The city of Guanajuato is home to a multitude of narrow alleys and colorful old houses.' With this basic information and my prior knowledge of beautiful San Miguel de Allende, I decided to take an intensive tour of these two cities. As soon as I stepped out onto the street for the first time in the early morning in Guanajuato, I was completely amazed by the different levels of its streets, the narrow alleys, and the lights and shadows cast by this unique architecture.

My work is semi-abstract, surreal, and avant-garde. I am captivated by interesting forms and juxtapose elements in order to create mystery and amplify the magic I see in the world around me. My images invite the viewer to stay longer, drawing them into a deeper kind of “seeing.” Photography, for me, is a practice in seeing and presence. We go through life taking things that are right under our noses for granted, seeing in a superficial or preconceived way, or miss beauty entirely, limited by our own inner blockages. When I’m out with my camera, I force myself to observe more deeply, and search for those breathtaking glimpses I might normally miss.

“Anonymous Citizens” are the humble, everyday people familiar to us all—those who happen to be walking along the streets of any town, just like the rest of us.

‘Salon Studies’ takes a close look at women between the ages of 45 and 65, and the choice they make to either alter their appearance by means of dyeing their hair, or alternatively allowing their hair to ‘go grey’. For many women this decision is fraught with strong emotions, first and foremost among them a fear of aging.

The design and construction of La Grande-Motte date back to the Trente Glorieuses, the thirty years of unprecedented economic growth following World War II. During this period, paid holidays gave rise to mass tourism. In order to keep vacationers from turning mainly to Spain and the French Riviera, the French government planned the creation of new seaside resorts.

It began with a name I didn’t recognize, scribbled in a book that once belonged to my grandfather. That small discovery unraveled the hidden history of my grandmother, a history I was never meant to know. Her absence profoundly shaped my father’s life and ultimately led to his suicide, setting events into motion that still reverberate today.

The Weight of Light is a body of work born from the intimate experience of aging and sadness for the world’s diminishing values — its ethical erosion, loss of compassion, and broadening division. These shifts in perception, including a progressive blurring of vision, resonate deeply. Navigating these realities has reshaped my world, often muting its vibrant hues. This drew my focus back to the foundational language of monochrome, my grainy darkroom work from the early 1980s, and the tonalities of historical processes like gum, platinum, and photogravure that have long inspired me.

I grew up in the 1950s in St. Anthony: a small, farming community in southeastern Idaho. The Snake River runs through the center of the town and the Teton Mountains are visible on a clear day. While having only 2,500 residents, it was the county seat and had a post office, a court house with jail and a small library, and an armory where sawdust was thrown down for Saturday night dances featuring country and western bands. Every possible inch of arable land surrounding the town was used for planting potatoes.

Much is lost in the act of remembering. By exploring personal photographic archives, I reclaim the sense of wonder and curiosity experienced in my youth, while idling along the shores of our family lake home or discovering new terrain. In this series, I have re-photographed vintage Kodachrome slides, inviting refracted light, environmental intrusions, and focal plane manipulations to transform the images.