My project, Paris Blue Prints, in collaboration with Carol Lipton will be shown tomorrow until April 4th on a corner with two of the best street names in town: rue de la Lune and rue Notre Dame de Bonne Nouvelle.
I have not posted in ages. This used to be the place I told short stories. Little things I needed to say. But today there are so many places to tell our little stories, on platforms like FB, Instagram, Twitter, Linked-In, and our attention is taken in so many different directions.
And then I’ve been a bit stunned into silent shock in the last week. The other night I dreamed that I saw a girl I knew from my first photo class in Paris. She had made it out of the Bataclan after all, I was so relieved. Maybe it means she’s ok wherever she is. It’s the first good dream I’ve had since 11/13.
I’ve been showing some people around Paris recently, thus have been in areas with a higher concentration of tourists, and I can’t stop photographing people photographing themselves; in front of anything, everything and nothing at all. The selfie stick is everywhere and it looks to be about as addictive as sugar.
What was the gesture before the iPhone? I’m trying to remember, when on vacation what were people doing? I always had a camera, but I remember often being the only one. I’m trying not to worry that the virtual is trumping real-life, but I am.
St. Eustache is a church I’ve long loved, and always walk out of with a sore neck because I spend my time there staring at the ceiling. My boyfriend complains that Americans say “amazing” too much, but I have to say, the architecture here is amazing. The thick columns remind me of old trees stretching up to the sky. And I’m lifted up when I walk through them. It makes me want to replace all the chairs with soft mats so we can lie down and stare up, instead of bowing our heads.
Last weekend I played music inside a metallic rainbow. The song was Sugar Boom, and the tenor steel drum reflected blue, yellow, violet, green and orange up into my face as I was playing. I needed a GoPro attached to my forehead.
With my hands busy playing, the photos I could get were between songs during rehearsal.
Five steel bands came together, thanks to musician Alain Rouaud, and played three concerts in MPAA’s (Maison des Pratiques Artistiques Amateurs) lovely auditorium in the Marché St. Germain in Paris. As a part of MPAA’s group, I was absolutely thrilled to play with 70 other steel drummers and 5 percussionists.
I’m not being an exaggerating American when I say “absolutely thrilled.” I was full of joyful tears when I heard our sound swell from 18 drummers to the sound of 70, supported by the engine machine of percussionists behind us. I was overwhelmed and I hope to never forget it. The first time only happens once.
Thursday I was called last minute to come photograph on set. My friend Benoit Lelievre was shooting a clip for Max Arthur an Dezmond Meeks, it would be film-noir in style, a bit David-Lynchian. They were shooting at a club in my neighborhood, whose entrance is right next to one of my supermarkets, yet I had never noticed it.
More photos can be found here.
Sunday nights at the Coolin were a treat.
Like the ritual of a Sunday night dinner with family.
Once it’s renovated, it’ll be a dead space on Sunday nights, an Apple store on other days. Fabulous. We totally need another Apple store. I’ll probably never walk through those doors again. Nothing against Apple (I’m typing on a Mac, it’s my most important tool after my camera) but I buy online. You see one Apple store, you’ve seen them all. And the Coolin was just an Irish pub, but it wasn’t like any I’d known before.
The good news is the beat goes on, and the wonderfully talented people who created this special place, and their family of fans will continue in another neighborhood across the river and into the 8th.
These photos are from Saturday, March 21st,
the last gig at the Coolin. Marché St. Germain, Paris.
Additional photos of the mayhem can be found here.
After looking through many photos, including ones from the protests in Paris, I decided on a photo for my New Year’s greeting that spoke to me of innocence, exploration, passage, sharing, quiet companionship. It was taken over the summer in the south of France. I saw those kids coming and wanted to get the shot before the adults behind them entered the picture. I like to imagine them traveling alone, in one of those magical children’s’ stories where there is almost always flying. There’s something Peter Pan or Christopher Robin in that boy’s profile.
I’m a little late getting out my wishes for this New Year. The momentum I was creating the first week in January took a detour with the Charlie Hebdo story. People being killed down the street from where I live and work, for expressing their ideas, shined a big light on the word “now.”
Like the little girl in the tutu at the supermarket, happy with herself, at play each moment of the day. Why wait for an “appropriate occasion” to wear that flashy skirt? Why wait until tomorrow to call that grandmother, sister, or father and tell them you were thinking of them, right now, today, for no other special reason, other than they are important to you and you love them?
Do you have something important to say that someone, somewhere should hear? Write it, send it, ship it, say it. Release fear and it uncovers love, they say. I’ve found this to be true.
For my 8th birthday someone gave me a diary with a teddy bear on the front. I remember it very well, especially that I didn’t quite understanding what I was supposed to write in it. My first entry began in the 3rd person. Now I know when I received my first camera. I believe it was a Kodak with disc film, it’s the first one I remember using.
For one week only (because I’m soon flying to sweet home Chicago!!), I’m offering a selection of cyanotypes for sale. The perfect Christmas gift!
10 unique prints, signed, numbered and framed. See details and more photos here:
The newest issue of Off The Wall came out last week and two of my photos are inside. Each issue has a focus, and this one, the letter H in the series, is on photographers who are also women.
Pick up a copy, among many great things, there are photos from the early archives of Nan Goldin, interviews with Anne Biroleau & Hélène Giannecchini (on the Alix Cléo Roubaud show at the BNF), with Scarlett Coten and Héloise Gosset, and my favorite, Sabine Weiss who, at the age of 12, used to contact print her pictures “in little wooden frames placed under the sun and fixed with kitchen salt.”
descollages dans le marais, paris.
I’m testing out the app Guidigo that lets you make a guided tour of just about anything. I created one to collect my recent street work during Mois de la Photo in Paris (The Month of photography, it happens every 2 years in November).
I’ll be adding stops in the coming days, and perhaps some audio. I had some trouble uploading sound, so decided it was a sign I should stick to writing. Let me know what you think!
I have always loved photographing sculpture, since those first assignments in my Jane Addams Community Center photo class in Chicago. It was during that time that I shot this photo, early one morning on my way to an office job in the Loop.
I’ve always liked this photo, and have given it as a gift, but this print has spent most of the last decade hidden away in a box. Last week, while hanging photos at home, I needed something vertical to fit a space in my installation and went searching for the one print I knew I had of the Reading Cones, on a soft matte fine art paper.
Now that it’s up there, I love living with it on my wall. It is grounding, regal, quiet and confident. And, it merits being printed bigger than the A4 I modestly permitted it.
I am getting much inspiration from Odilon Redon today.
Tout se crée par la soumission docile à la venue de l’inconscient.
Everything is created by quietly submitting to the arrival of the unconscious.
– Odilon Redon, 1898
I had a great time in Arles this year. Most of us have likely read the reviews by now, and while the “In” festival may have been underwhelming, Arles was, as always, a great place to network and spend time with people I don’t often get to see in person.
And the “off” festival is getting bigger and better every year. This year I decided to continue in Arles, the work I began last October during les Rencontres Photographiques du 10e in Paris.
So on most nights, after vernissages, dinners, projections, and parties, I took my broom and bucket out and pasted up my street exhibition in the off-off festival. In the process, I met Isabelle Chapuis and Alexis VI, who were pasting up (with admirable precision) their series Blossom (love it) and watched the evolution of Delphine Henry and her group’s series “Parade,” titled after François Hebel’s name for this years festival. I loved the silent collaboration, placing my work among theirs.
Last night in Arles.
The Rencontres festival did not take risks, it largely stuck to the usual suspects,
this is a shout out to the festival-off, and off-off.
It’s the most labor-intensive business card I’ve ever had.
Business cards for Arles this year.
Happy July 4th! Before I go buy some sparklers to put in my tarte citron, I want to share this magazine I just finished making with Blurb (it’s so fun to make a magazine!). You can preview some of the pages below. And if you’re in Arles next week for the festival, you may see some of these photos as you’re walking from café terrace to photo exhibition!