Entries in Ambrotypes (17)

Wednesday
Feb062013

Native American Massacre Sites: A New Project

One thing that always has to be present in a project for me is a deep, strong connection to the topic or concept.

I can’t commit to make work for a year, two, five or even longer on a whim or fad. It can’t be because it’s "cool" or looks good in (fill in the blank) process. It has to be deliberate, focused, challenging, interesting, and it has to be something that will make the viewer think.

I've found that over the last 30 years, I’ve always made images about my heritage, memory, history, or identity. I’ve not always been aware that’s I was doing, but age and maturity have allowed me to look back and see this clearly.

During graduate school (Goddard College 2005 - 2007), I had my DNA tested. I had both my mother’s (mitochondrial) and my father’s (Y) tested. The results revealed what I thought they would, my father’s Jewish and my mother’s Native America (Navajo from the Ket people).

My photographic/art career has centered on photographing “otherness”. I’ve been preoccupied with people and ideas outside of the mainstream. I explored this in my project, “Portraits from Madison Avenue” (2003 – 2006) and in “Vergangenheitsbewältigung (struggling to come to terms with the past)” (2006 – 2011) a project I made in Europe centered on my Jewish heritage and the events in Nazi Germany.

What I haven’t explored is the Native American side of my heritage. In 2011, I moved from Europe to Colorado with this in mind. 

When I was eight or nine years old, I went into my parent’s room one day after school to use the restroom. The other restrooms in the house were occupied. When I came out, I noticed a book on my father’s nightstand. I picked it up and read the title, “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee” by Dee Brown. I started looking through it and saw the photos. One of them was a photo of Big Foot frozen in the snow. It shocked me and piqued my interest. I started reading about what happened.Big Foot frozen in the snow after the massacre.

One hundred and twenty-three winters ago, on December 29, 1890, some 150 Lakota men, women and children were massacred by the US 7th Calvary Regiment near Wounded Knee Creek on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. Some estimate the actual number closer to 300.

"It was the fourth day after Christmas in the Year of Our Lord 1890. When the first torn and bleeding bodies were carried into the candlelit church, those who were conscious could see Christmas greenery hanging from the open rafters. Across the chancel front above the pulpit was strung a crudely lettered banner: "Peace on earth, good will to men," writes Dee Brown in "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee."

It was confusing to me. I didn’t understand all of it and I wanted to know why this happened. I asked my mother why the US forces attacked Indians when they weren’t doing anything wrong. I wanted to know why that happened. She simply said so they could take the land and resources (horses, supplies, etc.) and to get rid of the Native Americans. I read as much of the book I could. I didn’t fully understand, but I understood enough to know that something terrible happened to the Lakota that cold, awful day in December.

I did not know then how much was ended. When I look back now from this high hill of my old age, I can still see the butchered women and children lying heaped and scattered all along the crooked gulch as plain as when I saw them with eyes still young. And I can see that something else died there in the bloody mud, and was buried in the blizzard. A people's dream died there. It was a beautiful dream . . . . the nation's hope is broken and scattered. There is no center any longer, and the sacred tree is dead.”

Black Elk

The Hotchkiss cannon that was used in the genocide of the Lakota men, women and children.Not only was this early experience a shadow of what was to come for me and my interests, it created a longing in me for justice and truth. I remember feeling helpless and filled with anger and anxiety about this event. It was a seed planted, and now, 40 years later; it’s going to sprout.

 When I was in undergraduate school (Weber State University; 1989 – 1993), I met Drex Brooks. Drex was in charge of the photography department at Weber State University. I respected Drex, I liked his work and admired his philosophy about photography. We worked together for over three years. Drex influenced my work and he influenced my philosophy about life, too. People would often ask if we were related. In the late 1980s through the early 1990s, Drex created a body of work about Native American massacre sites. His book was published in 1995 by the University of New Mexcio press, it’s called, “Sweet Medicine”. This book had a big impact on me. Through his teaching and his work, Drex taught me how to make serious artwork and what’s important about being an artist/photographer. 

 I’ve had almost a year to think about a new project. It’s been a rollercoaster in ways, but a very needed respite from image making (for a project). My show, “The American West Portraits”, ended last June in Paris, France. Since then, I’ve been contemplating what’s most important to me and what would have the most meaning to me in terms of impact. This is what I have decided to do; I’m going to follow in the footsteps of Drex (at least to some extent) and make wet/dry Collodion images of Native American massacre sites, places where treaties were signed and where “battles” took place with the Wasi'chu (non-Natives/white people) in the Western United States.

 In a few weeks, I’ll have some examples from the Sand Creek Massacre site (1864), Colorado, the Council Grounds and Fort Laramie (site of a treaty signing in 1868) in Wyoming and the Summit Springs Battlefield in Logan County, Colorado (1869).

My mother before she died. These are 5"x7" Black Glass Ambrotypes 2005

 

Saturday
Feb252012

A Short Respite and Satisfaction

Quinn holding three 16" x 20" (40 x 50cm) Ambrotypes. Photos by Jeanne Jacobson

It’s Saturday morning, the sun is shining; I have espresso in my cup and have absolutely nothing on my "to do" list today. I haven’t felt like this for over a year!
For the previous eight months, I've been working seven days a week, 12 to 14 hours a day. I know that’s not healthy, but I had to do it at least for that finite time.
Since Jeanne and I landed at Denver International Airport last June, we’ve been setting up our personal lives, setting up a studio, making photographs, readjusting to America and preparing for the opening of my exhibition in Paris in three weeks. It’s been a long, exhaustive and expensive journey, but I can see the reward coming soon – soon as in less than three weeks – when we board the plane for Paris, France.
Like so many things in my life, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to make this happen had I known what it was going to take. And like so many things in my life, I have no regrets about saying, “Yes, I’ll do it”. Too often, people default to “No, I can’t” to every opportunity that presents itself.  They live with regret and miss out on living life. It’s a lot easier to say, “No”, than to say, “Yes.” It’s easier to be negative than to be positive. Why is that? 
I know it’s trite and cliché, but you have to ask what does “living” mean? I know it’s different for everyone, but the underlying theme is taking chances, taking risks, going where there’s no safety blanket or safety net. Getting out of your comfort zone, getting out there – and I don’t mean that you have to go abroad – it can be as simple as public speaking, changing jobs or quitting your job. Or, in my case, making an international move and then making a new body of work for an exhibition in Paris in six months time. Those things will make you feel alive. An English idiom we use is, “You have skin in the game”. That means you have something to lose or that you’re invested.
Regardless how successful, or not, the show is, I have already experienced something amazing. I arrived in Denver with nothing and in six months time, created a meaningful body of work that I’m proud of and that didn’t exist until I made it. It’s a very satisfying feeling. And to have a gallery in Paris that is excited and supportive means the world to me.  
The plates (glass and metal) are packed in the crate on the left and the photo supplies are in the foot locker on the right. These packages will be sitting in the gallery on Monday!Jeanne and I packed everything up Wednesday night. I had a crate built for the artwork and we used a hard case (large foot locker) for the supplies we need there. The inspiration for the blog was an email I received this morning telling me that the crates cleared customs in Orly, France and will be in the gallery on Monday.
Thank you, Jeanne! You made this happen for me! I love you!

 

Monday
Oct032011

Southern Utah University Art Insights Lecture

 

Last Wednesday, I traveled to Cedar City, Utah. Southern Utah University asked me to be a speaker for their Art Insights program. 
My wife, Jeanne, joined me and helped me with the Wet Plate Collodion demonstrations during the day. And Thursday night, she had to listen to another 45-minute talk about my work and process (thank you, Jeanne!).
It’s always a huge honor for me to do these kinds of things. I’m both encouraged and humbled by the response and comments from people.
Southern Utah University has a beautiful campus and I was surprised how nice Cedar City, Utah is – I’d never been there before – gorgeous views of the land and bright blue skies. The students and faculty were very kind and seemed to enjoy what they saw and heard from me. 
They had me give my lecture in the Great Hall. The references to Harry Potter they made about the space were spot-on. It’s big, elegant and holds a lot of people. I’m not sure how many people were there, but it was full (200+?). 
I’m always amazed that people come out to hear (and see) someone like me when they could be doing a thousand other things. It’s very humbling to me. I always try to be as sincere and honest (authentic) as I can be when talking about my work and my intent for the work. I think that most people want to listen about (and see) work that’s authentic and not gimmicky or made for consumption (shocking, crude, etc.). That’s what I try to give them – honest and real – like the people I photograph.
We would like to say, “THANK YOU!” to Deb and Harold Snider for hosting us in their beautiful home and for all of their wonderful hospitality.
Thanks to Jeremias Paul and Rheana Gardner from the photography department – I appreciated all the help and encouragement. I look forward to working with you again. And I would like to give a big thanks to all of the students of SUU and the general public that attended my “performative lecture” (Wet Plate Collodion demonstrations) and/or my Great Hall lecture. 
All photos by Jeremias Paul and Harold Snider (thank you!)

The Southern Utah University Photo Group! Half Plate Black Glass Ambrotype by Quinn JacobsonHarold watches as I flow the plate with Collodion - his image.Harold's Half Plate Alumitype in the wash pan.Jamie's in the sitter's seat and waits as I explain what I'm going to do. Getting ready to make a Half Plate Clear Glass Ambrotype.Fresh out of the wash - against my black t-shirt, I show the group how thin negatives appear as positives against black.Jeremais shot this - I love the shadow of the image!Kallie (forgive me if I spelled that wrong) sits for her portrait - the texture of her hair looked very cool!Do you see what I mean?Getting her "dialed in" as Jeremias makes a crack about Muybridge ;-)My brother in the blues, Steven Swift, sits for his portrait. (http://www.stevenswift.com/)Steven on metal!A closer look - Steven.This was the test plate to start the day. It's a portrait of Rheana.The Bunny Girl's work, Jamie - I was asked to look at some of the students work. Jamie's work had Gummo written all over it - she's from Ohio, too!

 

Friday
Dec312010

The Last Day of 2010

Sometimes we find ourselves in a place where everything is ending. Or at least it feels that way.

It’s a bitter-sweet thing. I’m in one of those places right now and wondering how it all happened so fast and what will fill the “hole” on the other side of the pond. While endings can be sad, they can also open the door to opportunities; and that’s where I have to keep my head, or at least try.

Today, I’m reflecting on leaving Europe after five years, Summer’s evolution into adulthood (the loss of “my little girl”) and just the overall loss of what I know now – my life – if you will. The year is ending, too. That’s what started me writing. I thought I could use the last day of the year as a metaphor for my life right now.

I was in my studio/darkroom yesterday and I was trying to devise a plan of where to start to break it down. It made me sad. In a lot of ways I don’t want to go back to America. In other ways, I can’t wait. It’s a roller coaster of emotions, to say the least. I walked out of my darkroom full of anxiety and didn’t touch a thing. I need to get in there today and start packing!  

We’ve met and befriended some of the finest human beings on this big blue ball (you know who you are) here. Europe and the Europeans have been very good to me and my family. This has been, without question, the best part of my life. The people, the experiences and the personal and professional growth has been amazing. I’ve learned more about myself and about life in these five years than the previous forty. I hope I can take some of that back with me and am able to share it without sounding arrogant or condescending. Americans could learn a lot from Europeans, I know I have.

I’ve been treated like a king here. And I’ve been respected and acknowledged for my work. I’m afraid that I will lose that returning to the States. No one knows me and no one cares what I’ve done here. It feels like I’ll be starting over in a lot of ways.  I’m okay with that; I just don’t want to keep taking one step forward and then three back.

I have to thank Centre-Iris Gallery (Olivier and Pierre) and all of the fine Parisians that supported me this year. What a wonderful experience! Merci beacoup! To have a gallery in Paris that supports you like Centre-Iris is overwhelming. I’m very grateful and will return every two years with new and exciting work to show Paris. A big thank you to our friend, Benoît Boucherot, too! He made a wonderful documentary about me (see the previous post). 

To every studio, cultural center, art school and individual artists in Europe (Barcelona, Reus, Gothenburg, Budapest, Dresden, Cologne, Vienna, Glasgow, London, Amsterdam, Berlin, Brussels, and many, many more) that I’ve had the pleasure of visiting and teaching at (and there have been a lot of them); thank you! You’ve allowed me to grow and taught me more than I taught you. I’m eternally indebted to the hundreds of people that I’ve had the opportunity to meet, teach and befriend; thank you! I wish I could stay another five years.

Summer and Jesse just spent three weeks with us. They flew back yesterday and are back in America today (31 December 2010). I was able to get them in the head brace for a plate during a private workshop with Bernd Radtke. We had fun; we went to Amsterdam, Belgium (Lummen) and Aachen (Germany) to see friends and have some fun.

I miss my life here already. 

Summer Joy Jacobson - December 18, 2010 Viernheim, Germany 5" x 7" Black Glass Ambrotype

Jesse Vriens - December 18, 2010 Viernheim, Germany Half Plate Clear Glass Ambrotype

 

Tuesday
Sep142010

Dresden: The Final Adventure

For the past four years, Wet Plate Collodion photography has taken me east to Budapest, Hungary, west to Glasgow, Scotland, north to Gothenburg, Sweden and south to Barcelona, Spain; plus many other cities in between.Some of the places I've traveled to teach, exhibit and make photographs.

I just returned from Dresden, Germany. It was probably the last Wet Plate Collodion adventure for me in Europe; at least until I return to Paris in a couple of years.

Like so many places in Europe, Dresden is a beautiful city with a lot of interesting history. I especially like the photographic history of these places. Dresden was the largest manufacturer of albumen paper in the 19th century. Albumen means “egg white”. The albumen printing process was invented by Louis Désiré Blanquart-Evrard in 1850. He was from Lille, France.

The Dresdener Albuminfabriken AG (The Dresden Albumen Manufacturing Company)
They produced 18,674 reams of albumen paper in 1888. Each ream consisted of 480 sheets 46 cm x 58 cm (~18” x ~23”) in size. To coat a ream of paper required 9 liters of albumen solution, obtained from 324 eggs; only the whites, separated by hand. All of the paper was made by women – all by hand. In 1888, this one factory consumed over six million eggs – that’s about 16,500 eggs per day! There were a lot of bakeries around making custards and other pies/pastries with all of the egg yolks, too. Can you imagine what Dresden’s collective cholesterol level was in the late 19th century? Women in Dresden making Albumen paper.

The Dresden Museum Wet Plate Collodion Performative Lecture
I was invited by the Dresden Museum to do a Wet Plate Collodion performative lecture in conjunction with the August Kotzsch exhibition. Kotzsch was a German photographer working from the 1860s to the 1880s in Dresden/Loschwitz, Germany. He lived in that area his entire life. He mainly photographed rural German life, but wanted to be graphic artist. The exhibit shows his early drawings from the 1840s – he was quite good. He did a lot of still life work, too. His albumen prints are amazing. One of the city historians told me that Kotzsch made his own albumen paper – how strange is that and, moreover, why would he do that in Dresden?

The Dresden museum is beautiful and the Kotzsch exhibition was nothing short of that. It was an honor for me to be there talking about Kotzsch’s process and showing the people how he made his photographs.

The space they had arranged for me was perfect; large (non-UV) windows and even a sink close by. The museum is in the center of the city. People were walking by watching me turning back the hands of time with the Wet Plate Collodion process through the large windows of the museum.

There were about 25 people in the audience; the perfect size. Ernst Hirsch was one of the attendees. Ernst is a filmmaker and photographer. He is well-known and admired. I asked him to sit for the demonstration. I later learned that he made a book about Kotzsch and his work. After the lecture, he presented me with a copy of the book (August Kotzsch 1836 - 1910. Von den Anfängen der Photographie in Loschwitz bei Dresden) and a print from one of Kotzsch’s negatives. It was a very nice addition to my book collection of 19th Century photographers. Ernst owns several hundred original prints of Kotzsch’s and knows his great-great-grandson – who, by the way is a successful fine art photographer today.

I ended up making a few portraits. I had a very nice time. The trip was a great way to end the Wet Plate Collodion adventure in Europe, at least for now.

I want to thank my wife, Jeanne for taking all of the great photos, Richard for translating all of my stories and jokes during the lecture, Ernst and Cornelia for the book and print, Jan for making the trek to Dresden from Berlin, and Frank for the DVD/prints and the long conversation at the hotel about communism and photography. I learned a lot about the former East Germany and the communists.

We miss you, Summer XOXOXO


A Dresden egg. I should’ve brought some home for paper!

Quinn doing his thing in Dresden, Germany
"Is that Chuck Close?" someone asked. No, it’s the museum’s curator, Fredrich. 
Practicing on Ernst – the sitters need to practice before we expose the plate. 
Can someone get a photo of this? Please! 

The afternoon produced these images.

The afternoon produced these images.
Frank



Richard, my translator and museum coordinator for the lecture.


Richard (negative) – so he can print on modern paper.


Herr Kotzsch und Herr Jacobson, standing on the shoulders of giants…