Artist to Research: Alex Harris

Of all the photographers and bodies of work listed, Alex Harris’s work in Alaska and more specifically to his series titled “The Last and First Eskimos 1973-1978” spoke to me the most. The book, The Last and First Eskimos, a collaboration between Robert Coles and Harris, is a social documentary project on Eskimo villages in Alaska. This includes a diverse group of photographs ranging from images of the environment, to environmental portraits to close up images of the people themselves.

Harris has a rather direct approach in his work that I could relate to in my own work. Actually, it’s an approach I struggle with and am hoping to someday conquer. The individuals Harris has photographed acknowledge the camera and seem to express themselves well with it. The Last and First Eskimos is for the most part a series of portraits of intuits in Alaska in their communities. My work is a series of portraits on individuals in a work community and attempting to show the diversity present in that environment. In both Harris’s work and my own we are attempting to document and, in a sense, elevate the individuals, I feel. There is a feeling of nobility to some of the individuals Harris has photographed, which is more evident in some of his photographs of the elder generations and yet are seen in the younger as well. There is a sense of quiet dignity to some of the images such as in the link below.

Alex Harris | 1973-1978: The Last and First Eskimos | 03-frontis of boy with seaweed on log tununak

It is evident throughout his body of work that the people in these communities are very comfortable with Harris being there, which is something that I respect and admire. He spent a year and a half living with these people. I’ve spent 4 years working with my group of people and yet they shy away from me when my camera appears. To me, Harris, however, still has a bit of an anthropologic approach to some of the shots, which leads to an outsider feel. The upfront environmental portraits seem to have a photographer as an active observer (outsider) to myself versus images such as his Schoolhouse Fire photograph linked below which has a belonging feel to it. This combination of approaches works smoothly though and I believe adds a bit more depth to the project.

Alex Harris | 1973-1978: The Last and First Eskimos | 11-selawik fire

The more anthropological/outsider approach is visible in this next photograph. Please keep in mind, however, that there is still a level of comfortableness with the subject, but it has more of a "I'm a photographer and I'm documenting you" approach than "I'm part of the community and photographing what I see and experience."

Alex Harris | 1973-1978: The Last and First Eskimos | 26-teen guitar newtok

I feel like I can draw on Harris’s work as inspiration for my own as his compositions and lighting are much more elegant and evocative than my own and yet he and I seem to be in the same situations, interior and exterior, with the same overall subject matter (individuals in a community). Harris has brought out the beauty to his subjects while also bringing the viewers attentions to the similarities and differences of the culture itself. It's aesthetic documentary photography in the hands of a master and something that I aspire to be able to produce.

CCP Print Viewing

I was very struck by Graciela Iturbide's image of the man holding the mirrors. She chose a very centered subject, which is an unusual composition in photography, but when executed properly really emphasizes the subject. Along with this strong vertical of the man's frame, we have the more subtle diagonals of the building tops to add interest to the image. The soft transition of tones of the photograph sing to the viewer. The print quality is superb. Her choice of black and white for this image and her others, helps to prevent distracting colors interfering with the overall unity of the image.

What really caught my attention was the overall beauty of the image and this lone figure standing in a busy street holding mirrors. I was drawn to the rich tones that emphasized the character of the wrinkles in his face and his expression. To me, the whole image is about looking; the man looking at the viewer, the viewer looking at the man, and the mirrors reflecting that view as well. It reminds me of one of those rare moments in life where you and a stranger share a secret moment together and the world slows down for just that second. It has that moment of peace in chaos. I love that Iturbide chose to be far enough away so as not to be in the reflection of the mirrors and that they show the roof tops and sky. There is something subtly uplifting about the image to me. Like a secret message to "keep your chin up" or your sights on heaven and not always on the chaotic, grungy world.

Graciela Iturbide's images show aspects of everyday life in Mexico and focus on culture, religion, and as Cass calls it "magic realism." I can see that in this image. It looks like a normal moment in life and yet has a surreal quality to it. I'm not sure why the artist created this specific work. It comes off as being in the right spot at the right moment to me. Perfectly executed. Documentary photography at it's finest.

I've learned that having a camera nearby is the best way to get the shots you want, because you never know when that perfect moment will happen. I've also learned that aesthetics are a huge factor.

Assignment Three: A Picture Worth a Thousand Words

Film Response: War Photographer

In the first 5 to 10 minutes of the film, all I could think was how no one was stopping him, wondering how he could be right in their faces and the people are letting him while they're grieving. I kept wondering if he had any respect of the individuals and the tumultuous emotions they were experiencing while his camera was so close as to be intrusive. It wasn't until a little later on when he was talking to a family about the situation that I came to understand his intent a little more. Every photographer wants to tell stories, but some have different motives. When I realized how pure James Nachtway's intentions were, I was completely captivated. Even without knowledge of the artist's narrative, the work is strong and evocative. With his commentary, it's just phenomenal. I was near tears through half of more of the film, which is difficult to do when you're sitting in a library surrounded by others and the humdrum of everyday life. I was blown away at the humility he showed. The interesting thing is that his photographs only show us a split second of the event. Even in that split second, though, we cannot even comprehend the actual experience. We have only an inkling of an idea, and yet the images are so powerful that even in that small section captured our emotions respond to what our mind cannot even grasp.

The image of the boy's head with the tall destroyed buildings in the background was one that really spoke to me. His gaze is so intense. To me the image is inspiring as if he's turning his back to the destruction and will forge on in this life. Grim but absolutely beautiful. It steps away from the shock value of war and emphasizes the personhood of the boy photographed even with only half of his head visible.

One of the more striking moments to me was from the cameraman's perspective on how Nachtway plead for the life of the man chased by the mob. I'd never thought about war photography much except to be amazed at the brutality and horror expressed. I can't get out of my head what he had said about not just about being in it, but being part of it. He's not just standing by photographing. He's put his heart and life on the line because what he's is about is more important than his well-being.

Another image that really stuck with me was of the boy with the scars on his face and the marks of the stitches that held it together. The aesthetic beauty of the photograph contradicting the skin's mutilation and the realization of how this boy got those scars is indescribable. The massacres that Nachtway witnessed and brought back to the world speak for themselves. For one person to endure even a fraction of it is an amazing testament to human fortitude.

To be there in it and to be photographing some of the same people who may have been part of those massacres the day before was in Nachtway's words "like taking the express elevator to hell." I don't think I could do what he does. I don't think I could see the things he has and keep the amount of compassion and optimism that he does. It would be hard to keep my sanity after witnessing this pain and suffering first hand. Not only that but he has this inner determination that his success, though built off personal suffering, is to give these people a voice and not for personal advancement.

I love that his goal is to evoke humanity. That photography is the antidote to war. That war suppresses and negates humanity, but by exposing the nature of war and what it does to the people we can end it: our humanity cannot allow us to continue and photography is a tool to help us.

Everyone has to Start Somewhere

Assignment #2