Archive for the ‘Autoportrait’ Category

Cyanotypes are forever

Monday, December 8th, 2014

Cyanotype sale!

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:
http://www.danivoirin.com/1931395-cyanotype-sale-2014

DesCollages: Off the Wall and into the magazine

Monday, November 17th, 2014

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.”

Eyes on the Marais

Monday, November 10th, 2014

descollages dans le marais, paris.
november 2014.

rue Verlomme / Tournelles

rue Verlomme / Tournelles

rue de Beauce / Bretagne

rue de Beauce / Bretagne

DesCollages guided tour

Friday, November 7th, 2014

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!
The Tour

My accomplice

My accomplice

“The self is an idea”

Sunday, October 12th, 2014

A photo takes itself, by the Exist sign next to my front door

L’inconscient

Sunday, August 24th, 2014

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

From Disappearances, in Halsnoy, Norway.

From Disappearances, in Halsnoy, Norway.

Disappearances

DesCollages in Arles

Sunday, July 20th, 2014

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.

rue du Grand Couvent

rue du Grand Couvent

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.

rue de la Calade

rue de la Calade

rue Docteur Fanton

rue Docteur Fanton

Close-up on rue Dr Fanton.  I love the wall textures and wrinkles

Close-up on rue Dr Fanton. I love the wall textures and wrinkles

rue des Penitents Bleus

rue des Penitents Bleus

rue des Penitents Bleus, a spot that became more and more full as the week went on

rue des Penitents Bleus, a spot that became more and more full as the week went on

rue Portagnel

rue Portagnel

rue de l'Hotel de Ville

rue de l’Hotel de Ville

rue du Grand Couvent, someone didn't appreciate this one.

rue du Grand Couvent, someone didn’t appreciate this one.

A la santé de ceux qui osent encore…en Arles

Saturday, July 12th, 2014

Last night in Arles.

Cheers to those who still dare

Cheers to those who still dare

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.

Mini cyanotypes

Sunday, July 6th, 2014

It’s the most labor-intensive business card I’ve ever had.
Business cards for Arles this year.

DesCollages dans la rue, a magazine!

Friday, July 4th, 2014

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!

My first magazine

My first magazine



Experimenting in Cyanotype

Monday, April 7th, 2014

This week blue is my favorite color. I mixed twice as many chemicals as I needed, so I’ll be coating a lot of paper and printing several new negatives, starting with printing the DesCollages series in blue.

Cyanotype from the DesCollages series, an out-take from the B-pile

Thirst

Wednesday, March 12th, 2014

Deep in the sea are riches beyond compare.
But if you seek safety, it is on the shore.
Saadi, Rose Garden

Self Portrait in Barry Jones' studio

Self Portrait in Barry Jones’ studio

DesCollages, la suite

Monday, November 18th, 2013

The photo festival, Les Rencontres Photographiques du 10e, continues for another couple of weeks in Paris, and I’ve been out again enlarging the circle of my street exhibition.

There is a map here: DesCollages Map
(though it now includes rue Bichat, near metro Jacques Bonsergent, and also farther west to the Passage des Petites Ecuries, great place to go for drinks and dinner btw.)

DesCollages no. 8 rue Bichat

DesCollages no. 8
rue Bichat

DesCollages no. 4, and what we photograph. Passage des Petites Ecuries

DesCollages no. 4,
and what we photograph.
Passage des Petites Ecuries

DesCollages no. 7  rue Bichat

DesCollages no. 7
rue Bichat

DesCollages no. 9   (La Penseuse)   Blvd Magenta

DesCollages no. 9
(La Penseuse)
Blvd Magenta

La Penseuse qui pleure

Sunday, October 20th, 2013

Je ne sais pas si c’est de la colle ou de la pluie,
mais elle semble pleurer
et ça me plais.

I don’t know if it’s from the glue or the rain,
but she seems to be crying,
and I like it.

Des années

Tuesday, September 24th, 2013

Ten years have now passed, since I changed countries. I’m almost breathless, looking back, seeing who I was, who I think I was, and who and where I thought I would be today. People make ten-year plans, I never have. I have dreams but I don’t give them deadlines. I was impatient with the Paris dream. I tried once, it was all set up, seemingly perfect, and then fell through just after the Twin Towers. I let it go. And maybe it’s like they say about the people you love. Let them go and they may come back to you. I let the dream rest, though never stopped desiring it, never stopped saying out loud what the ideal situation would be.

I changed paths, out of necessity, and became reacquainted with another dream, one not linked to a particular city, one that could be initiated right where I was.

In looking for a starting point, I jumped through numerous hurdles to get to where I thought I should begin, and when it was my turn to sign up, all seats were taken. But it was vital for me to begin, so I found a second-string starting point, one I judged as inferior but at least put me into action. The new plan-B-point-A would take me far, to where I wanted to be, because the room where my plan B started was where another person had entered by mistake and then decided to stay.

A relationship began, one that would bring me to Paris and then dissolve. A person came into and out of my life, enabling “the ideal” situation in between, which I had so often described out loud.

But a dream is maybe like having a photo of a tarte au citron meringuée when the reality is eating one. Except reality also requires you to learn to make the thing first, then savor it. And those are the ones you don’t forget.

These years have been a lot of work, and sometimes a real pain in the ass, but equally delicious.

I’m still working on the meringue.

A howl from coast to shore

Wednesday, April 24th, 2013

The saddest dog I ever met lived alone on an island you could only reach at low tide. When I visited, he followed me around the island just close enough to keep an eye on me, but at safe distance. He wouldn’t approach my out-stretched hand, no matter how much of my dog-lover’s heart I tried to project. His howl echoed on the wind the morning we left.

Communicating from distant shores

Communicating from distant shores

My intro to alternative processes

Friday, March 8th, 2013

After a 2-day cyanotype & gum bichromate initiation workshop, these are a couple of my best results. I thought the gum was lost, but after 45 minutes and a lot of hot water, the image on my heavy-handedly-coated paper finally appeared out of pure black. This is the original photo, which I thought would be a decent one to test out these deliciously imperfect processes. It was printed out on transparency as a negative to then print by contact.

Gum bichromate on Canson watercolor paper

Gum bichromate on Canson watercolor paper

The best in a long line of cyanotype trials.

Cyanotype on Canson watercolor paper.

Cyanotype on Canson watercolor paper.

Thanks Jean Gabriel Lopez for being such a patient teacher!

Kit’s lampshade

Wednesday, February 20th, 2013
legs, lamp shade, love

legs lamp shade love

A self-portrait, featuring a work of artist Kit Brown. We once had studios
on the same floor and when I think of working near Kit during those months,
I think of Chuck Close saying, “Inspiration is for amateurs, the rest of us
just show up and get to work.”

Doctor, my eyes

Monday, December 3rd, 2012

are slipping through cement,
reflecting the September Moon.

Homesick for the just out of reach

Monday, November 12th, 2012

La nostalgie pour ce qu’il reste toujours hors de la portée

I have just put this short series of photos online,
please check them out –> here.

People keep asking, “Why homesick?” “What do you mean out of reach?” The title is the most apt description of the way I was feeling, and these photos were happening at that same time. They belonged together.

I think it’s about the ache. The desire to create something that speaks honestly of who you are, what your experience of the world feels like. The places you look for nourishment. Looking with such intensity, almost desperate for a sort of x-ray vision, to understand the experience of the sky, the changing light on the sea, the time twisting in the tree.

I’m inside this singular mind, seeing through these two eyes, aching always to see farther, to a place I haven’t been, yet is somehow familiar.

and… I was listening to Bob’s Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie almost every day.
God bless ’em.

Happy Hauntings…

Wednesday, October 31st, 2012

From the series Disappearances, at Halsnoy Kloster.

Another restless moon

Saturday, September 29th, 2012

It seems that in every apartment I move into, the full moon shines across my pillow. Tonight I turned out the lights and saw a dagger of bright silver light and it took a moment for me to realize what it was. These nights, with the moon such a presence, are almost always restless.

Bonne nuit.

Full moon, September 2012.

Before the paint was dry

Thursday, August 30th, 2012

This is half-way to the creation of a photo I had in mind, whose end result is, I think, quite remarkable. It is on display in the 59 Rivoli gallery in Paris until Sunday.

Looking at this half-way-there photo, I hope it doesn’t negatively surprise my grandmother, who, in response to some of my self-portrait work once said, “Just don’t resort to miming.” This of course begs the question, what would push a person to “resort” to miming…? “I’m at the end of my rope, there’s nothing left, somebody pass me the white makeup!”

I love you Granny T.

On the way to Adaptation, painted by Paola Noe Murphy

Self-portrait with one of my dearest friends, just because

Wednesday, August 29th, 2012

He’s the kind of friend that brings laughter to the task of moving all your worldly belongings across town. Again, and again, and again.

How many flights of stairs this time?
Only three…

Seb & Dani, at a Charlie Winston concert.