My title, The Pencil of Nature, for this group of iPhone shots, pays playful tribute to the book of the same name by William Henry Fox Talbot, published in London between 1844 and 1846. These images started out as studies for another project shot using a DSLR, but as they accumulated, they took on a life of their own. The theme, which is revealed subtly in the image titles, is very much in line with my work on memory and loss, but the technology that frames the work has even more of a presence than usual. This is unavoidable, since Instagrams and their ilk remain rarely charted terrain in the world of fine art and so my use of them must enter my discussion of the work.
In the passage below from his original text, enamored of crediting nature and not the painter’s hand, Talbot muses about future photographic technologies. He seems to almost predict their many forthcoming incarnations, which we now know range from Calotypes to Instagrams, with countless points in between.
“They are impressed by Nature’s hand; and what they want as yet of delicacy and finish of execution arises chiefly from our want of sufficient knowledge of her laws. When we have learnt more, by experience, respecting the formation of such pictures, they will doubtless be brought much nearer to perfection; and though we may not be able to conjecture with any certainty what rank they may hereafter attain to as pictorial productions, they will surely find their own sphere of utility, both for completeness of detail and correctness of perspective.”
“A little nonsense now and then, is cherished by the wisest men.” – Roald Dahl
This post is a follow up to “Hey Mr. Talisman” published on July 8, 2012
AL IS BACK! As promised, the head of house keeping at Magnolia Hotel in Omaha packaged him up and sent him on his way. He arrived at my door safe and sound inside a Priority Mail shipping box on Friday afternoon. I opened the box as soon as I got home from work. Just for fun, I photographed Al sitting with some other toys I have around the apartment as if they were his welcoming committee.
The doll in the picture was a gift from a childhood friend after her trip to Mexico when we were around twelve years old. I don’t have a lot of mementos from my childhood, but this doll is an important one. The frog is one of many of its ilk that subtly adorn my apartment. My mother collected frog figurines all her life and still does. It’s a tradition she continued after her mother and now, in varying degrees and not always voluntarily, my three sisters and I collect them as well. This sock frog is a favorite. Al’s story has me playfully imagining his adventures between Omaha and Buffalo since I left him behind. I enjoy being playful, even in adulthood, and I thank my lucky stars for the playful people in my life.
After going through the experience of very nearly losing Al and ultimately getting him back, I decided to do a little research on his origins. It turns out he was hand made in Germany by Volker and Sabine Senger who have been lovingly turning out sweet little animal toys like Al since 1985. They say this of their mission in toy making:
“We want our toy animals to create a bond with the child, so that they
can take on the role of a trusted companion, offering security and
helping development. We are delighted to know that children become
more creative through play with a small number of carefully selected toys.
We are also pleased that our animals can put a smile on the face of many adults, spiriting them back into childhood.”
A few years ago, on a trip around Upstate New York I had the pleasure of meeting a well known contemporary American philosopher, writer and translator. The encounter was brief and far more memorable for me than for him, I’m sure. There were many more introductions and mini adventures on that trip, including stopping at a charming toy store in Woodstock where, for the purpose of research for a photo project, I acquired this vintage looking toy horse. I jokingly named the horse after the philosopher who, for the sake of this post, I’ll simply call Al.
Al 2011, Hipstamatic
Over time, for various reasons, the horse has become a kind of “protector” to me. He usually sits on a chair in the bedroom as part of the decor. From time to time I pick him up in an attempt to channel warmth and luck from this object I’ve assigned the role of Talisman to. Recently, at the very last second as we were heading out the door for Omaha, I grabbed him up and stuffed him in my bag. Going home can be a mixed bag of pleasure and pain and I wanted a good luck charm for the trip. If such things are possible, then little Al did his job, because for the most part, it was a wonderful visit home.
Al sat silently in the hotel room for the duration of the trip. In the back of my mind, I imagined him sweetly sending strength to me as we enjoyed our time around the city I love and I quietly confronted feelings of homesickness and loss. At one point I moved him to the chair in front of a writing desk in the room. When it came time to pack up and go, the chair had been pushed under the desk and Al was out of sight. I neglected to include him among the clothes, shoes, and hair products in my bag. We rushed off to Caffeine Dreams for a spontaneous last cup of coffee with those who could make it, and Al was left behind. The airport was next, and unbeknownst to me, Al remained there in room 233 at the Magnolia Hotel all alone. I didn’t unpack right away so it wasn’t until a couple of days after our return to Buffalo that I discovered his absence. I felt silly and devastated all at once. It was just a silly object after all, but my heart pined away.
I called the hotel and after 2 full days of nerve racking back and forth while the head of housekeeping was on vacation, Al was finally found! I made the arrangements and if all goes well, he’ll be back safely in my hands sometime next week. This whole experience is strangely tied to a photographic project I’m working on now that’s inspired by the loss of a favorite toy when I was a child. Back then I imagined the lost toy coming to life and having adventures in the real world. I wonder, as I laugh a little at the thought, if Al will return with any insights into the mystery that is Omaha, NE, my home.
I was very disappointed when Instagram went down (Crashed) during my trip to Omaha. It happened right after the fireworks display at my aunt’s 90th birthday party. Omaha is such a great city and I was really looking forward to trying to capture, as closely as possible, something resembling the romanticized images of my home town that appear sometimes in my dreams. I often joke to my friends in Buffalo that Omaha is a perfect, wonderful, far off land that they should visit as soon as possible. Here are 4 more shots I was able to take prior to and immediately following the crash, before heading back to Buffalo. Venues pictured include, Film Streams, Homer’s Records, Fireworks at Ponca Hills Farm, Caffeine Dreams.
Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.
– Anais Nin
At Film Streams, Omaha, 2012Homer’s Records, Omaha, 2012Fireworks for Ann, 2012Caffeine Dreams, Omaha, 2012
