Place: Framing the Oregon Landscape

The exhibition I curated for the Oregon Historical Society is now open! Place: Framing the Oregon Landscape highlights the work of ten wonderful photographers - Bobby Abrahamson, Jody Ake, Steven Beckly, Susan Bein, Chris Bennett, Thomas Homolya, Joseph Glasgow, Christine Laptuta, Stu Levy, and Raymond Meeks. 

Here's my statement for the show:

Romantic notions of “The West” drew many of these artists to Oregon. They came seeking wide-open spaces and the spirit of adventure and exploration, just like so many on westward journeys before them.

The images presented in the exhibition are a creative counterpoint to more familiar vernacular and commercial views. Each photograph is an emotional, personal response to the landscape and the moods it evokes. They are a reminder that artists play a key role in creating our shared history, and in shaping how we will remember it.

Place: Framing the Oregon Landscape also draws from the artists’ personal collections and Oregon Historical Society’s extensive artifact collection to foster a rich, contextual examination of our regional landscape and the artists who interpret it. 

The show will be open until May 17th, 2015, so there's plenty of time to stop by for a visit. And, save the date - on January 22nd I'll be moderating a panel discussion with some of the artists, followed by a reception. Stay tuned for more details.

Oregon Landscapes: Call for Images

Image: Bobby Abrahamson (Hells Canyon Dam)

Image: Bobby Abrahamson (Hells Canyon Dam)

This year, I've been curating a landscape photography exhibition for the Oregon Historical Society. "Place: Framing the Oregon Landscape" opens on November 8th and runs through mid-May, 2015. The show features ten artists: Bobby Abrahamson, Jody Ake, Steven Beckly, Susan Bein, Chris Bennett, Thomas Homolya, Joseph Glasgow, Christine Laptuta, Stu Levy, and Raymond Meeks. 

Here's the fun part - you can be a part of the show! Throughout the six-month exhibit, there will be a slideshow displaying images sent in by the community. In keeping with the theme of the show, images must be landscape photographs taken in the lovely state of Oregon. Not an Oregon resident? That's okay! If you've visited the state and have images to share, you may participate. How to submit? Simply post your images on Instagram tagged with #ohsplace. I'll be curating the slideshow continuously, selecting new images to add to the big screen at OHS.

The show doesn't open until November, but you can begin submitting your Instagram images at any time. The more, the merrier! Selected images will be screened with photographers' Instagram names during the exhibition. Mountains, molehills, sparkling rivers, pristine deserts, environmental degradation, images of the elusive Sasquatch foraging in the woods - you name it, I want to see it! I can't wait to see your photographs of Oregon. 

Onward!

Laura

p.s. There is no real deadline for entering your images. I'll be adding new images to the slideshow throughout the exhibition. So, there's plenty of time to submit!

Remembering to Breathe

Recently, in the thick of some major life stresses (divorce, a very sick father, and huge professional deadlines), I picked up my camera and pretended to go on a meditation retreat. A little silly, sure - but it helped me feel happy and creative, which is just what I needed. Today, I recorded a little audio about the process of making the images. Click play to begin.

Early Works in Philly

Early Works, the exhibition I curated with the lovely Laura Moya, is on the road again! It will be showing at the Sol Mednick Galleryat the University of the Arts in Philadelphia from August 22nd to September 19th. In the Philly area? Stop by for a look. The show is a collection of images taken by contemporary photographers when they were children - paired with narratives about each piece.

Not in Philly? You can also view the entire exhibit online.

Photography & Play

Today as I worked from home, I heard my neighbor outside playing patty cake with her young son. It was a giggle fest over there. I kept trying to focus on what I was doing (fiddling around in Excel - blah), and the silliness just escalated. It reminded me that I need to get out and play a little bit more, myself. 

It's easy to get consumed by work and forget to leave time open for play. The work mentality can even bleed into what we do with our creative pursuits, which can sap the joy right out of the process. In photography, I think this perspective often leads to an overemphasis on "how" things are done. It's easy to fall into an analytical relationship with the medium - to focus on how the equipment works, how the camera should be set, how to get the same results as a famous photographer, etc. But, focusing exclusively on the "how" can take us away from an immediate, emotional response to our craft. 

It can be helpful to turn our attention away from how we photograph, and to take a deep look at why we do it. When it comes right down to it, that's a much juicier line of inquiry. Why do I photograph? Because it makes me happy! Because what I'm looking at is gorgeous! Because I'm inspired to make images that express how lovely, tender, wonderful, and exquisitely fragile life is. Because beautiful light can bring tears to my eyes. Photography makes life richer and more immediate, in so many ways. The "why" is the most compelling part.

If you have a tendency to get a little hung up on the "how," you might experiment with letting go of that impulse a little bit. Refocus on what drew you to photography in the first place. Why does it feel good? Why do you love it? Why are you inspired to explore the world visually? Why does photography make your heart sing? Not only are these questions more fruitful in developing a personal photographic practice, they're also a whole lot more fun to consider than hyperfocal distance calculations, and the like. Toss the charts! It's time to get out there and play!

I'm reminded of a beautiful little volume called I Hear the Leaves and Love the Light by Robert Adams, in which he presents photographs of his tiny white terrier bounding around his sunlit backyard. The whole book is dedicated to this subject. A wonderful, worthwhile project, it seems to me. 

One of my students recently spent the afternoon blowing bubbles and photographing them against the dark interior of her garage. Another set up his camera in his front window during a torrential downpour and photographed himself frolicking around in the rain. I absolutely love to see artists infusing their practice with more joy and giggles! It's a great way to breathe more life into art, don't you think? It's also a great way to make life a little more vibrant and satisfying. 

Wishing you a happy, creative summer filled with opportunities for play!

Onward!
Laura

The Beauty of Impermanence

Memorial for Kit, 2.13.79 - 6.21.03

Memorial for Kit, 2.13.79 - 6.21.03

Eleven years ago, I lost a beloved friend. Kit was a brilliant, funny, creative adventurer. He made xylophones and ocarinas by hand, walked around barefoot, danced capoeira, recited Shel Silverstein's lesser-known, wonderfully obscene poems by heart, and was a warm and loving friend. He had gone back to school to study astrophysics, and drowned suddenly during an internship at Arecibo Observatory in Puerto Rico. He and another young man got swept up in some rapids while swimming and, in a heartbeat, they were gone.  

I've been thinking about Kit recently, as the anniversary of his death has rolled around again. I wonder what he would think about the life I've made for myself all these years later. When I look at photographs of him now, he looks like a child. I got older, but he never did.

The other day, I got out a few things that remind me of my old friend. A little pouch filled with shells and stones that I made for him (and that his mother mailed back to me after he died). A clay ocarina. Old contact sheets filled with images of the camping trips we went on and the wacky, mural-filled home we shared for a couple years. Good memories. Casually, I started to photograph some of the objects, and I found a good measure of joy and peace in the process. The little images I made bring alive a piece of my friend again, and honor his memory. 

Henri Cartier-Bresson wrote, “Photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing and when they have vanished there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again.” So true. But, it occurs to me that we can use photography to celebrate impermanence - to honor the fragility of our one, precious life. Photography can help us to not take it all for granted quite so much.

It's so easy to operate as if everything in our lives is permanent, isn't it? We leave the house in the morning never doubting we'll come home later. We imagine that our relationships will stay the same and that our bodies will always be able and strong. My friend Kit placed his clothes on the bank of the river, never doubting he'd return to claim them. Imagining that life is permanent is certainly comforting, but lately I've begun to find a deeper comfort in the knowledge that it is impermanent. It makes me value each little moment I am lucky enough to have. Feeling the sun on my face, scratching my dog's joyous, upturned belly, hugging a friend, making photographs of the world I love - these things are achingly, beautifully fragile. Precious. I want to make photographs that celebrate these tender, transient moments. I want to look deeply so that I can see the joy that is present in change. Most of all, I want to enjoy every last minute of this wacky, wondrous life. 

Onward!

Dance on, old friend!

Dance on, old friend!

The Creative Journey

When you first start out with photography, it's important to spend a few years experimenting, making mistakes and discoveries, and gaining visual dexterity. As you've probably seen, it takes some years before camera controls and perspectives can be internalized to the point where you can focus purely on the art and craft of image-making. Once the basics are mastered, photographers are able to make technically-sound images but their oeuvre has a fairly random feel, when taken as a whole. Diverging styles, techniques, subject choices - work at this stage is a bit of a visual grab bag.   

There's nothing wrong with this artistic phase (it's actually a critically important part of the creative process), though photographers are often eager to move past it. There comes a time when artists develop a drive to find their unique photographic voice - to make images that resonate with a stronger sense of personal vision. There might be a pull to work on a portfolio or long-term personal project. There might be a desire to build a website, mount an exhibition, or enter a competition. This is an exciting transitional time in the creative process - and it can be rich with opportunities for growth.  

When you begin to photograph with more intention and focus, you can create images that say something more meaningful about who you are as an artist - and as a person. Instead of making hundreds (or thousands) of "one-off" images, you might begin to see a clear narrative develop in your work. You might turn your camera on a social, cultural, or environmental issue. You might use your photography to explore a particular place or a particular time in your life. You might make an in-depth, ongoing portrait of a loved one or explore a personal passion on a deeper level. Wherever your focus lies, it can be wonderfully gratifying to immerse yourself in your creative process and take these next steps with your work. 

Oftentimes, photographers start to consider these issues and realize that the seeds of a unique personal vision are already apparent in their work. You might realize you've been photographing a particular subject (or working in a particular style) for some time. These little seeds of personal vision are treasures, and if they're thoughtfully cultivated, they can grow into powerful bodies of work. 

If you're interested in taking a deep look at how these issues affect your creative process, I'd love you to join me in my upcoming online course, The Visionary Portfolio. The e-course includes lively discussions, personal guidance, and weekly photography projects designed to help photographers build momentum and confidence. I absolutely love teaching this course and seeing students take meaningful new steps with their photography practice.

Questions? Want to learn more? Click on the class link to read all the fun details and see student feedback. Or, pop me an email if you have questions. Class begins on July 22nd and registration is now open. 

Throwing Caution to the Wind

Recently, I spent an afternoon hiking around Fort Rock, a gorgeous rock formation in Oregon's high desert. It's a stunning spot with an evocative history. Archeologists in the 1930's discovered sagebrush sandals there that are more than 9,000 years old. You can see one of these incredible sandals on display at the Oregon Historical Society, should you be in the area. 

While there, I wandered around taking photographs. I loved what I saw, but didn't feel like I was making any strong images - just pictures of rocks. As we were driving away, I took one last photograph through the passenger-side window of the moving car. Since I shoot with a Rollei twin-lens, it's really impossible to look down into the ground glass while holding the camera up in a car window (unless you're a contortionist, maybe). So, I just pointed, hoped, and shot. That image (above) is my favorite of the bunch. It's much better than any of the pictures I composed with care. I decided to wing it and wound up with an image I love. The blur of the foreground rushing by, the steadiness of that stately rock, and the power lines overhead just do it for me. Throwing caution to the wind? Highly recommended.

I often talk to students about the value of giving up control in photography. Oftentimes, photographers feel burdened by the technical and mechanical aspects of the craft - and the drive to make every image perfect. Technical/mechanical considerations are important (we can't use our tools at all if we don't understand the basics), but depending on them too much can be limiting. Allowing too much rigor in the creative process can result in mortis (to paraphrase one of Bill Jay's inimitable quips). 

When we give up some control, we open ourselves to spontaneity, experimentation, and happy accidents. These are good things! Experiments can lead us in new directions and inspire new modes of seeing. They can help us jump out of creative ruts. They can add joy and flexibility to the creative process. As Diane Arbus said, "Some pictures are tentative forays without your even knowing it. They become methods...They can make you recognize something you hadn't seen in a way that will make you recognize it when you see it again".

The next session of my online course Candela: Finding Inspiration Through Photography begins on May 28th. The course is designed to help photographers move beyond the technical focus that often subsumes the photographic practice. Photography is about so much more than the bells and whistles! For six weeks, we'll explore the intuitive, emotional side of photography as we set the stage for a more meaningful creative practice. I'd love you to join me.

Early Works Travels to Colorado

At the beginning of 2013, I curated an exhibition called Early Works with friend and colleague Laura Moya. The show is a collection of images taken by contemporary photographers when they were children - paired with narratives about each piece. The show debuted at Newspace Center for Photography here in Portland and then traveled to RayKo Photo Center in San Francisco. Now, the show is on the move again! Early Works opens at the Center for Fine Art Photography in Fort Collins, Colorado next Friday, February 7th. We're pleased as punch!

My 5th Birthday Party. Seoul, Korea 1982

My 5th Birthday Party. Seoul, Korea 1982

The impetus for the exhibit was a little album of photographs I took when I first got my hands on a camera at age five. In chatting with Laura Moya about it, we realized that she had a number of old childhood photos, too. (You can read the story of the unhappy children at my 5th birthday party here). The idea for an exhibition was sparked. We held a call for entries and images came rolling in from photographers all over the U.S. and abroad.

The images we selected for the exhibition are wonderful - but the most compelling part is the stories. There are stories of love, loss, hope, fear, and all the heartwarming, messy adventures and discoveries of childhood. Photographer Lewis Koch shares an image he took when he was 15 or 16 years old of Martin Luther King, Jr. at a rally in the mid-1960's. The acclaimed photographer Roger Ballen shares the first image he made of a bird - a subject he's returned to again and again in his career as an adult. There are stories of mothers who died too young, of embarrassing childhood crushes, of beloved pets and sibling rivalries. Over and over, as I return to the images, I am swept up in the beauty, humor, terror, and raw humanity of it all. I'm incredibly proud of this show. And, I'm so thankful that these wonderful photographers have been moved to share their stories with us, and with gallery goers in Oregon, California, and Colorado. 

If you're not going to be in Fort Collins this February, you can still enjoy the entire exhibit online. The show will be up at the Center for Fine Art Photography through March 1st, 2014. 

Early Works includes images by: Corey Arnold, Roger Ballen, Douglas Beasley, Steven Beckly, Sheri Lynn Behr, Lori Bell, Jesse Burke, Richard S. Chow, Joseph Deiss, Maureen Drennan, Deena Feinberg, Gloria Baker Feinstein, Rich Frishman, Michael Jang, Zoltan Jokay, Ann Kendellen, Lewis Koch, Hannah Kozak, Varese Layzer, Phoebe Lickwar, Jim Lommasson, Anne Leighton Massoni, David Pace, Stephen Perloff, Jaime Permuth, Alexis Pike, Jordan Reznick, Trix Rosen, T. Scott, Jack Semura, Frederick Sharpe,Marsha Stewart, Stephanie Williamson, and Charlyn Zlotnik.

Exhibition opening at Newspace Center for Photography (April 2013)

Exhibition opening at Newspace Center for Photography (April 2013)

My Vivian Maier Moment

Earlier in the year, I found a roll of 120mm T-Max film under the stove – along with a few cat toys and a tube of chapstick. I imagine my cat grabbed it out of a camera bag at some point and rolled it under there, thinking it was a toy.

There were a few strange things about the film. It looked really old, and it was a kind of film I don’t shoot. It was labeled “Laura Valenti #4” – but I don’t label my film. Mysterious! So, I brought it in to get processed.

When I got it back a few days later, I was shocked to see images I remember taking – in 1994 or 1995. Despite being close to 20 years old (and despite spending some time under a stove) the negatives looked like they’d been exposed yesterday. I think the roll was labeled "#4" because it was the fourth roll of film I ever shot through a medium format camera. I’ve been smiling to myself thinking of this old film discovery as my “Vivian Maier Moment.”

This morning, I finally got around to scanning the negatives. Most of the images on the roll were from a high school photography trip to Port Townsend, WA. I remember feeling really cool because I was the student leader on the trip. There is the classic “I’ll take a picture of you, taking a picture of me” moment, some experimental (likely unintentional) double exposures, and my favorite – a photograph of my dad, reclining in the sun. What a nice moment. 19 years later, Pop is going through chemo and has lost his hair. It’s nice to see this relaxed, happy image of him, taken so many years ago. What a handsome guy.

Looking at these old photos is a bit emotional. So much has changed! Life is speeding along and we're all getting older. It’s a reminder to appreciate the moments we have available to us now. I feel lucky that I’ve spent 20 years of my life making images of the people and places I’ve loved. I hope to spend many more doing the same.

Oo, so arty!

Oo, so arty!

Pop, reclining in the sun.

Pop, reclining in the sun.

New e-Course: Traveling Light

Recently, I traveled to Costa Rica. I had a great time eating gallo pinto, petting sloths, and hiking around the gorgeous national parks and beaches there. I came back from the trip inspired to create an e-course about travel photography. I wanted to create a course that would go beyond simple gear recommendations and itinerary tips. Those things are important, sure, but travel photography is about so much more. I grew up overseas and have spent many years exploring the globe. I thought it would be fun to share some of what I've learned in my travels. 

My new e-course Traveling Light: The Spirit of Travel Photography is hot off the press and I am incredibly happy with it. The course includes audio slideshows, lectures, essays, and an interview with fantastic humanitarian photographer Joni Kabana. I packed as much travel photo inspiration as I could into it! 

Traveling Light focuses on making more nuanced, meaningful travel images - images that resonate with the spirit of a place. It's so easy to be disappointed by travel images that fall short - I wanted to build a course to help change that. 

If you'd like to join me on this e-course adventure, you can sign up at any time. The one-week course is on-demand, so it starts the day you register. That means it's easy to squeeze in right before an upcoming trip. Onward! 

A Little Image Folio

At the end of April I attended a meditation retreat at Great Vow Zen Monastery in Clatskanie, Oregon. At the monastery there is a beautiful garden dedicated to Jizo, a Bodhisattva who is considered a protector of women, travelers, and children who have passed away. It's very moving to walk through the garden. Hundreds of people have donated Jizo statues in memory of lost children - children who have died from illness or injury, or children who have been killed in wars around the world. People also knit hats and sew garments for the statues, so they stay comfortable and warm as they brave the elements.

When I was there, I walked through the garden each day, quietly contemplating the grief and beauty present there. I enjoy photographing at meditation retreats, and often do. Meditation and photography are related in many ways, and the camera can be a wonderful tool for appreciating the simple beauty of the present moment. As the light shifted and changed throughout the week, I'd make little images in the Jizo garden. I wasn't quite sure what they'd become, but I just felt drawn to the place. This week, I finally spent some time with the images, and thought I'd present them as a small folio here. 

On August 31st, Great Vow will host a Jizo ceremony for children, to help families process their grief. In silence, they will adorn new Jizo statues with clothing, toys, and photographs of lost children, and place them in the garden. For more information about Jizo and this special ceremony, visit Great Vow online.

Click the first image to open the slideshow.

Gorgeous Student Photos

The inaugural session of Candela: Finding Inspiration Through Photography wrapped up a few weeks ago. 38 students from around the country participated. They took fantastic photographs, wrote thoughtfully about their work, and helped set the stage for some wonderful creative discovery. I thought it would be nice to share some of their beautiful images here. A new session of Candela begins on September 25th, so if you're in need of some extra creative inspiration, I hope you'll join me. 

To all of the intrepid photographers from Candela 1 - thank you! I miss you already! 

Click the first image to enter the slideshow.

Jurying Photography Competitions

I just wrote a post on Photolucida's blog about jurying Critical Mass, Photolucida's annual photography competition. Critical Mass puts participating photographers' work in front of 200 top photography curators, publishers, editors, and new media producers from around the world. I've been a juror since 2007, and I enjoy the process every year. Through Critical Mass, I've "discovered" a number of photographers for curatorial projects over the years. It's been my go-to resource for finding inspirational new talent. If you'd like to read a bit about the jurying process, take a look.

Early Works Exhibition

Image: Frederick Sharpe

Image: Frederick Sharpe

An exhibition I curated with Laura Moya will be on exhibit at RayKo Photo Center in San Francisco from October 17th - November 17th 2013. This is the second stop on the exhibition's tour - it debuted at Newspace Center for Photography in April. 

The exhibit examines the naive imagery made by contemporary photographers when they were children. These early images often reveal surprising talent, visual intuition, and honesty. The exhibition is a close look at photographers' earliest works, paired with personal narratives about the images and their role in each photographers' development as an artist. There are some wonderful images and stories. To learn more and to see the full exhibition online, visit the exhibition website here:

www.earlyworksproject.org

And, if you're in San Francisco on October 17th, make sure to stop by the opening reception!