Fire Damage, Cascade Mountains, East of Sweet Home, Oregon 2012
Redbud
Paw Paw, Madison County, NC 2016
It's been five weeks ago now that I took a walk thinking redbuds.
It's not like me to do that,
go out with camera in hand and nature in mind.
I've not been much of a landscape photographer.
People and culture have been my thing.
But it was a vibrant spring day,
bright and crisp and
the redbuds were waiting patiently for me.
I've long thought it trite and repetitive to do this type of picture.
It's what we see in camera club contests and
postcard racks,
on facebook.
But here I was.
In the woods,
searching for the mix of angle and light,
wondering,
how is it I've not photographed such beauty before?
It's a Rainin' on the Bypath
Marshall Bypass, Madison County, NC 2016
Spring Pasture
Paw Paw, Madison County, NC 2016
The light this time of year.
It's something to behold.
Something to be blessed.
At once bright and deep.
Complex in its hews.
So hard to focus.
So easy to lose oneself in
its hypnotic self.
Doe Branch Ink
Looking forward to this workshop with my long-time buddy and work partner, Charlie Thompson, in an absolutely stunning location. Not to mention that Jim and Deborah are the best hosts one can ask for.
A Week of Images, Ideas, and Inspiration
Sunday June 12th to Saturday June 18th - register now!
We're pleased to announce that long-time collaborators Rob Amberg and Charlie Thompson—with deference to Agee & Evans and other documentary teams who have worked to bring stories to light—will be at Doe Branch Ink to lead a workshop on documentary fieldwork. There are a few spaces left, so be sure to claim your spot today.
Not so much a technical workshop as a discussion on the documentary fieldwork process, Amberg and Thompson will lead discussions about how to conceive and plan projects, meet and cultivate collaborations with interlocutors in the field, collaborate with other artists without coming to blows(!), and take your work to larger audiences as articles, books, exhibits, and more.
Rob and Charlie encourage participants to bring your own ideas and projects to the workshop, and they'll ensure plenty of time for reflection and deepening your work. They plan to workshop their own project in progress: a retrospective on their 30 years of work in rural America, on farm advocacy and the culture of agriculture, including the portion of their work sponsored by Willie Nelson's FarmAid.
They'll also organize field trips to local sites, photo talks, film screenings, and focused discussions of the leaders’ work will make for a full and rewarding week. You can read more about their workshop and our other spring / summer offerings at our new website.
About the Artists
Rob Amberg is an award-winning photographer and writer who has made Madison County, NC his adopted home for going on four decades. His books include Sodom Laurel Album and The New Road: I-26 and the Footprint of Progress in Appalachia. His photographs are part of the permanent collection of the David M. Rubenstein Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Duke University.
Charlie Thompson, a writer, filmmaker, and photographer is a member of the Anthropology Department at Duke University. His most recent books include Border Odyssey: Travels along the US/Mexican Divide, an ethnography and memoir about his 2,000 mile journey through the borderlands, and Spirits of Just Men: Mountaineers, Liquor Bosses and Lawmen in the Moonshine Capital of the World, an inquiry into his ancestors' roots in Franklin County, Virginia.
Yours,
Deborah and Jim
At the Engagement Party, Wheeling, WV
A Community Coverlet
Quilt Presentation, PawPaw, Madison County, NC 1983
Back in the olden days,
(Oh, how I love being able to say that)
new people moving into Madison County
began a tradition of making and gifting quilts.
For weddings, or new babies, or friendship.
Receiving a quilt meant a certain acceptance.
An embrace.
You were part of the community.
A member of the tribe.
It's a tradition that continues with young people today.
And I think, how rare is that?
Except in places like ours.
Small, close knit, and hands on.
Welcoming.
In this photograph Vicki Skemp, aka Vicki Lane, is
thanking her neighbors and friends for the
20th Anniversary Wedding quilt
presented to her and her husband John.
It's a Sister's Choice pattern,
organized by Vicky Owen and Fay Skemp Uffelman.
It was a potluck day, of course.
This one held at Wayne and Fay Uffelman's farm on Paw Paw Creek.
For Governor McCrory
Big Pine, Madison County, NC
Our two-seater, useable by all, no questions asked, no ID required, no confusion, no stupidity. Governor, quit pretending you know what's best for our state, and for us. You don't. Do us a favor, gather your minions and just leave in the dark of night. You should be ashamed.
We are.
. . . No Evil
". . . No Evil, Marshall Rodeo, Madison County, NC 2012"
photo+craft
photo+craft, hosted by Warren Wilson College, is an unprecedented community arts event happening March 31—April 3, 2016 at multiple venues in downtown Asheville and the River Arts District. Through exhibitions, talks, film and panel discussions, this cross-disciplinary festival explores visual and material culture in the 21st century by examining intersections between photography and craft.
Included in the notable list of presenters is my old friend, Harvey Wang. I first met Harvey in Madison County in 1976 when he was doing a project for a senior project. At photo+craft Harvey will be showing and speaking about his latest film, From Darkroom to Daylight, an exploration of the evolution of photography with twenty masters of the medium.
As part of this event, I will be showing photographs with Asheville photographer, Tim Barnwell, in the Revolve Arts Space in the Cotton Mill Studio at 122 Riverside Drive in Asheville. The exhibit is titled Hands On and includes work Tim and I have made over the last forty years.
Josh Copus Firing His Kiln, Lower Brush Creek, Madison County, NC 2015
- Hands On, Revolve Gallery, Asheville, NC
So May I Introduce to You . . .
. . . My friend, the irresistible and ever jubilant Cathy Guthrie.
Cargile Branch, Madison County, NC 2011.
A Walk's Treasures
Paw Paw Creek, at Anderson Branch, 030916
One of my walks last week yielded a bounty - a mini fridge, a shop vac and TV, a clothes dryer, bedsprings, and should you be hungry, a rotting goat. It's easy to be angry at this wanton disregard for our environment and the accompanying belief that the land is big enough to absorb whatever we throw at it. And I am, angry.
Paw Paw Creek, at Anderson Branch 030916
Anderson Branch Road, 030916
Upper Paw Paw, 030916
But I also remember a time many years ago when I first started hanging out with Dellie Norton. This one particular day we went to visit one of her relatives - a short drive and longer walk into a deep holler, following a boldly flowing creek. A small, broad valley with a patch of waist-high tobacco alongside a significant garden, a log cabin with wrap-around porch and smoke rising from the chimney - it couldn't have been more idyllic. We forded the creek, stepping gingerly on wobbly rocks and there we came face to face with the household dump site - an enormous pile of milk jugs, disposable diapers, tin cans, clothes, tires, and appliances - all spilling from the road and into the creek.
The very idea of trash was a relatively new concept for people like Dellie. Her's was not a throw-away culture. Use and reuse was what she lived by. But the arrival of modern culture to the mountains brought plastic, more packaging, and more waste. The thought of hauling it to a landfill and paying money to throw it away made no sense when it could simply be thrown in the creek where the next heavy rain would wash it from sight.
Upper Paw Paw, 030916
Upper Paw Paw, 030916
Now, some forty years later, I want to believe people surely know better, that we've learned that plastic and electronics don't simply vanish in the soil, that tires don't recycle in creeks. But evidence from my walks says, "no, we've learned nothing." Makes we wonder if it's not my anger that's misplaced.
That I should think instead of A Boxspring's Memory. Bits of cloth, cotton stuffing, invoices, a pair of intact panty hose, lacking only a good washing. And stories. Stories from the boxspring itself, of bouncing and creaking, of rust and decay. And stories from the owners of such things - My life with Boxsprings. And maybe from the imaginations and memories of people who see these pictures. It's what pictures do.
Hero - Cedric Chatterley
Cedric Chatterley, Sioux Falls, SD 2015
If any of you happen to be in Sioux Falls, SD, or anywhere remotely close, in the next month this is absolutely the exhibit to see. Cedric is a good buddy, but in my mind he is one of the premier social documentary photographers working today. Additionally, his handmade, large format cameras are works of art. To my knowledge, he is the only person in the country making these cameras. Cedric's work will be housed at the Rubenstein Rare Books and Manuscript Room at Duke University and he usually stops at our house on his frequent trips to North Carolina. Often, we get the first look at his new cameras - a 4x5 mounted in a horse's skull, another inside of a squeeze box, another an ode to the blues musician Honeyboy Edwards. This will be a significant exhibit by a most significant artist.
AUGUSTANA PERFORMING AND VISUAL ARTS PRESENTS:
'Reciprocity: Handmade Cameras and Photographs by Cedric Chatterley'
Event Details
The Eide/Dalrymple Gallery's latest exhibit, "Reciprocity: Handmade Cameras and Photographs by Cedric Chatterley" will be on display from Thursday, March 11, toSaturday, April 23. A gallery reception is scheduled for 7-9 p.m., Friday, March 11, with the artist's talk set to begin at 7:30 p.m. Gallery hours are 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.Monday through Friday; 1 - 4 p.m. on Saturday
Sculptural handmade cameras and photographs by Sioux Falls artist Cedric Chatterley are featured in this exhibition. Chatterley began his career in photography in the late 1980s, simultaneously working on long-term personal documentary projects and also as a hired photographer documenting traditional artists, musicians and craftspeople for various state arts agencies throughout the United States.
In 2006, Chatterley began building his own large format cameras, utilizing his advanced skills in welding and woodworking. He found that the traditional artists he had been documenting over the decades influenced him profoundly, and he began to ask various artists and friends to collaborate with him in producing sculptural cameras that he would then use to take photographs. This exhibition will display — for the first time — 17 of Chatterley’s cameras and 50 photographs.
We look forward to having you join us on Friday!
Sunday Fog
PawPaw, Madison County, NC 2016
Evening Meal
Martin, South Dakota 2015
Assholes abound
Anderson Branch, Madison County, NC 2016
I just want to give a big shout out thank you to the asshole who tossed these two TVs off the side of the road on Anderson Branch. Now, should I get bored on my walk, I can stop and imagine the inanity I could be watching if I only had a half-mile long extension cord with me. Throw your shit in your own backyard, or better yet, the landfill, but not in mine.
Sheep in Shadow and Sun
PawPaw, Madison County, NC 2015
Slicker than . . .
Upper PawPaw Road, 01 30 16
Seven days post storm, 57 degrees today, 60 tomorrow and patches of our road are still slicker than bat shit, which, I might add, is closely related to bat shit crazy.
Onward
Kate and Rob, PawPaw, Madison County, NC 1993
Change abounds and I expect to alter the pace of my blogging. Not quitting, mind you, but definitely slowing for the time being. I'll leave you for now with this photograph of Kate and me. I carried this print with me on my trip, tucked in my notebook, where I could find it and look at it when I wanted, or needed.
Highway 60, West Texas
I leave Chaco buoyant, my clarity matching the crisp and bright of northern New Mexico. As Charley predicted, Chaco Canyon has been the perfect end point for this trip of mine, offering simplicity and reflection, even if just for a day. I sense I'm back where I started forty-odd years ago - leaving the Southwest; starting a new chapter; the same, but now accepted, mix of confidence and anxiety; heading to the same place, one I've called home for forty-two years. I know the task ahead - three long days of driving. It will not be slow. But it's time to be there.
I have one last visit to make, this one with Bill Tydeman and his family in Lubbock, Texas. Bill is an archivist with the library at Texas Tech University. When I first met him, he was the librarian at Mars Hill College in Madison County and had ideas of starting a photo archives that would focus on work from the mountain region of North Carolina. He began buying images from my Madison County work and later hired me to administer the archive. Bill, more than any one person, got me started and gave me confidence that my photographs had lasting value. It's important for me to see him.
West Texas
West Texas
Rest Area, Interstate 27, north of Lubbock
I'm not sure where, or why, I get off track, but somewhere in west Texas I miss a turn and it takes a while before I realize I've added 100 miles to my trip to Lubbock. I didn't want to be driving after dark, but I will be. I get to town late and in this very-easy-to-navigate place, with Bill's wife Leslie guiding me, I can't find their house. I'm confused, with no sense of direction, and when I find myself going the wrong way on a highway entrance ramp, I know I'm in trouble. I pull over and think slow, I think of this morning's raven, and it dawns on me I haven't eaten in a long while. My blood sugar.
Change is often hard to accept and much of my trip has been an effort to do just that, to surrender to time's passage. My friend is dealing with similar issues that for him are being played out with health problems, changes at work, a young wife and far younger son. But he's still doing vital work with a series of environmental writers and photographers, including authors Barry Lopez and John Lane. Our time together is the same as it has always been - talking, looking at photographs, exchanging ideas, encouraging. But the time is also different, changed as we both have aged, transitioning, opening new chapters. It's disquieting, but I leave with a phrase that's new to me, critical regionalism.
Bill Tydeman with Leslie, Brannen, and Asher, Lubbock, Texas
Highway 82, West Texas
The next two days will be a gut check - about 650 miles a day, much of it on I-40, a trucker's paradise, a small car's nightmare. The first part of the day is a flat glide through small-town Texas - Guthrie, Benjamin, Vera, Seymour - like I'm passing through lives of people I know. And the land itself, dormant now, and brown, bracing for wind and snow and ice, and soon enough, Texas heat. The sky remains open, big, the far-as-the-eye-can-see horizon. I stop to piss and eat the leftovers of last night's ribs and brisket. It's an interstate exit, a crossing road and empty field, nothing more. The road to Geronimo.
Lily Thomas Field, near Geronimo, Oklahoma
West Texas
I'm thankful to get off of the interstate at Newport, 435 miles in Tennessee this afternoon, an hour to go. It's well after dark, but I know the road home all too well. I see my first Confederate battle flag in six weeks. Hwy. 25-70 east is quiet, empty really, and I see no cars until I get to Hot Springs. It's not a warm night, but I open the windows to breath the mountains. I turn on Waylon Jennings singing a Billy Joe Shaver song, Willy the Wandering Gypsy and Me. And the resinous line: "Willy, he tells me that doers and thinkers say movin' is the closest thing to being free."