Archive for the ‘Halsnøy Residency’ Category

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

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.

Keeping up with a young islander

Monday, September 10th, 2012

“Miriam, where’s the road? It’s getting a bit dark.”
“Um… I’m not sure…”

Guided by a wise & spirited 11-year-old girl, along the coast of Norway’s Halsnoy Island, the four of us, travelers from four different countries, ran, jumped and slipped along the rocks last night. Miriam’s playground.

“It’s more fun if you jump!” she says as she bounces away.

Tagging along with Brijesh Patel

Monday, September 3rd, 2012

Or was he tagging along with me? When you travel with a photographer, you get photographed a lot. At least, if you travel with me you do. In this case, I was in residency and exploring a new place with another photographer, Brijesh Patel.

Tomorrow morning I’m returning to to the Halsnoy Kloster in Norway for a joint exhibition with Brijesh, of the work we each did there last year. It just occurred to me to collect all the photos I had taken of him and see what that might look like as a portrait.

Brij up close in the forest

Brij far away on a hill

Brij in the study, with a frozen Jonathan Livingston.

Brij and dog that wants to bite me

Brij in the tall grass, waiting for me to get out of his shot

One night in the green room

Saturday, October 29th, 2011

“The timeless communicating to the time-bound.”

This photo is part of a series that I’m editing, taken during my residency at the Halsnoy Kloster, and today it makes me think of this sentence above, by Steven Pressfield and inspired by William Blake, in The War of Art.

My haunted photo

Tuesday, October 11th, 2011

I didn’t touch the negative. I didn’t move the filter. The paper was fresh. It hadn’t been exposed to any light that was shaped like a finger. I swear to all of the above. So I don’t have a physical explanation for it.

I was in the darkroom for almost 5 hours, ready for a break, and decided to make one last print. It was too dark, so I thought to myself (again), “ok just one more, then I’m done for today.” Except that the next one had something strange on it that looked like… I put the thought away, because it was on this day and I was a little jumpy in that old house, standing there in the dark on a basement floor of centuries-old stones that used to be the walls of a church.

So. I quickly (frantically) made another print, trying not to think about WHAT had just interfered with my process. The new print was just fine, and as soon as it was safely in the fix I turned those lights on fast and I was packing up. I didn’t even really look at the print until days later when I was back in Paris.

So, what exactly are those shapes, and who put them there?

Bed sheets, un-disturbed

Bed sheets, un-disturbed

Bed sheets, with ghostly interference

Bed sheets, with ghostly interference

There are two distinct shapes, almost a 3rd. Since they’re white, it means the corresponding objects were opaque, and placed above the paper, thus blocking the light. But no one else was there but me, and I didn’t do it. One shape looks like a distinctly male organ, and because it’s a photo of my sheets, it’s a bit of a ghostly joke. Though it could also be a dismembered finger. That other thing, which is slightly 3D, I’ve no clue…

Strange Things

Thursday, September 22nd, 2011

Fear can be so annoying. I was alone in the big old house this afternoon when the electricity went out. I was printing in the basement darkroom. I had just put paper in the developer tray, and when everything went black I immediately abandoned it and fled upstairs. Robert Plant and Alison Krauss were singing “Strange things are happening everyday…” on my computer.

No fuses were blown, no apparent reason for it. Perhaps someone was working on the line. Not long afterward the lights came back, at the same time a student from the folkehøgskule came to play the piano in the “green room.”

Back down in the darkroom, I could hear his beautiful music through the ceiling and it calmed my nerves. I spent the rest of the day printing without any other weirdness. Wait, except one thing, but it can probably be explained. I’ll write about that in a later post.

The orange room with red curtains. My bedroom window in the un-haunted house on Halsnoy.

Biggest wall on the island

Tuesday, September 20th, 2011

And now for some trivia. Do you know where the world’s largest wall mural resides? All 80 x 16 meters of it? Don’t ask my to pronounce it, but it’s in Høylandsbygd on Halsnoy, at the docks. There are some shacks nearby where at least four vicious-sounding dogs live.

Høylandsbygd shipping mural, painted by Polish artists, Magareth and Konrad Waraksa. Finished in July, 2010.

The Mother Ash

Friday, September 16th, 2011

This tree is 550 years old. She (because I call her the mother tree) was struck by lightening around 1850. She’s protected by Norway and has a plaque nailed to the side of her that faces the Kloster Fjord, but her trunk has grown around it so you can’t see what it says. Her roots are tangled in the stone wall that runs along side of her, and because the lightening ripped her open, she can shelter you from the rain. Her trunk bulbs out in several areas that make very nice places to sit or nap. I visit her daily, and last night decided to light her up while the sky was clear and the moon was bright. For scale, I sat in my usual spot inside her trunk, and lit myself with a flashlight.

Self portrait in the great Halsnøy ash tree

Small finds

Friday, September 16th, 2011

I feel like such a city person, terribly fascinated by banal country creatures. Slugs, snails, starfish, these curious things find themselves at my feet on treks around the island. Brijesh has been scanning objects he finds, so each time I find a little creature, I hand it over to him for the scanner.

Snail living in the ruins of the Halsnoy Monastery, Sunnhordland, Norway.

Returning from the Spar

Tuesday, September 13th, 2011

In my day, we had to walk an entire hour to the grocery store, and it was up hill in both directions! Often it was raining and windy, and if you weren’t careful you could get knocked off that one-lane road into the ditch when a car came speeding by.

Today we only made it half-way home when Koshi, the dance teacher at the folkehøgskule, spotted Brij and I and gave us a ride. He knew that two people who were walking couldn’t be from around here.

Brij coming back from the Spar

Night in my eyes

Tuesday, September 13th, 2011

The thing about darkness is, it brings everything closer. Distances are compressed. When your eyes are open in the pitch black of night, you can almost feel it touching your eyelashes. Kilometers become millimeters, that mountain over there a painted backdrop. Each night here in Halsnoy, when I blow out the last candle, my room covers me like a velvet blanket.

Full moon on the Kloster Fjord last night. The clouds finally moved aside to let us see the night sky.

Little House on Halsnoy

Friday, September 9th, 2011

Swinging through Eidsvik on my way back from the supermarket. I see that this time of year in Halsnoy, you cannot bike round-trip to the grocery store and not get caught in the rain.

Eidsvik, Halsnoy Island, Norway.

A note on the square format: since I got a Lumix G3 and can shoot directly in square, I’ve been more obsessed with geometry. It makes me think of this, from an interview with Henri Cartier-Bresson when he said, “for me it’s a visual pleasure….there’s a rhyme between different elements….the greatest joy for me is geometry.”

Sleepless in Sunnhordland

Thursday, September 8th, 2011

What do you do with yourself when you are alone?

I am alone tonight in a big house, built in 1841 with stones dating from 1300. My three-week residency has 1/3 passed and Brijesh, the other photographer in this amazing place with me, is in London today for a shoot.

Everyone asks if this place is haunted. Everyone. Honestly, I hesitate to write that “h” word. It is absolutely not. It’s such a lovely, big, warm, friendly house, but my imagination is running away with itself. Because I’m alone late at night in a house everyone thinks is haunted!

It’s not, it’s not, it’s just not.

And it’s silly, but I’ll wait until tomorrow, during the bright daylight, to go into the basement darkroom with the old stone floor, to make my prints. Even though I cut myself off from horror movies several years ago, the ones I’ve already seen are burned on my brain.

Looking at the Kloster Fjord from Halsnoy Kloster monastery tonight

Halsnøy Kloster, 6:57pm

Tuesday, September 6th, 2011

Strange, I think that’s what time I was born. Anyway.

The light was fleeting and wonderfully unpredictable on the Kloster Fjord tonight when the ferry from Liervik came through.

Making friends on the island

Monday, September 5th, 2011

A couple of Halsnoy’s inhabitants, taking their jobs very seriously.

Curious George and Stinky Pete

Halsnøy Kloster, 8:20pm

Saturday, September 3rd, 2011

First night in the Halsnøy Kloster. I’m here doing a 3-week residency on an island at the southern end of the Hardanger Fjord, between the mainland and the island of Stord. It’s so wonderfully quiet, except when the cows are hungry.