Artist's Statement-
As a teenager, I was told by my teachers that I was going to be a great painter. Coming from a family of artists, it was a little depressing to discover that I was in fact, horrible at painting. I set aside the world of art for the things of youth.
Some years later, in a moment of quiet reflection, I was struck by how amazing it was that the universe evolved a way look at itself: people. With that realization, sharing the experience of life became important to me, and I saw the world of art in new terms. Unfurled each day was a series of moments, little tableaus, and I realized photography, not painting, was ideal for capturing these.
It did not take long to recognize the difficulty of capturing a moment in a fraction of a second that was also art, and which communicated something universal between the artist and viewer. As with any art form, learning the craft, and then the art, takes years, but I continue to enjoy the process.
Those little tableaus are all around us, and as a photographer I face the twin challenges of being aware of them in the first place, and then trying to whittle each one down to its essence; to not clutter up what I'm feeling from it. Most of my work "ends up on the cutting-room floor" but every now and then, one shines through, and when one does, it always comes as a surprise to me, almost as if I'm seeing it for the first time. "Did I capture that?" It's a lot like playing a musical instrument: sometimes the music just flows, unrestricted by any sense of self.
That's what I hope for my prints.
Here's what I've come to so far: A fine-art photographic print is not merely reportage. It is an instant of revealed form, through which the viewer sees our shared and essential human condition. Such a photograph endures beyond a single viewing, because it opens a previously unseen door, not so much to our world, as to our collective human soul.
As a teenager, I was told by my teachers that I was going to be a great painter. Coming from a family of artists, it was a little depressing to discover that I was in fact, horrible at painting. I set aside the world of art for the things of youth.
Some years later, in a moment of quiet reflection, I was struck by how amazing it was that the universe evolved a way look at itself: people. With that realization, sharing the experience of life became important to me, and I saw the world of art in new terms. Unfurled each day was a series of moments, little tableaus, and I realized photography, not painting, was ideal for capturing these.
It did not take long to recognize the difficulty of capturing a moment in a fraction of a second that was also art, and which communicated something universal between the artist and viewer. As with any art form, learning the craft, and then the art, takes years, but I continue to enjoy the process.
Those little tableaus are all around us, and as a photographer I face the twin challenges of being aware of them in the first place, and then trying to whittle each one down to its essence; to not clutter up what I'm feeling from it. Most of my work "ends up on the cutting-room floor" but every now and then, one shines through, and when one does, it always comes as a surprise to me, almost as if I'm seeing it for the first time. "Did I capture that?" It's a lot like playing a musical instrument: sometimes the music just flows, unrestricted by any sense of self.
That's what I hope for my prints.
Here's what I've come to so far: A fine-art photographic print is not merely reportage. It is an instant of revealed form, through which the viewer sees our shared and essential human condition. Such a photograph endures beyond a single viewing, because it opens a previously unseen door, not so much to our world, as to our collective human soul.