05 September 2010
Wild horse portfolio posted
10/09/10 11:43
When I wrote yesterday about my adventures on Assateague, I realized that I hadn’t yet uploaded images from my wild horse project onto the site. Tada! I did so this morning. All the the images are from various trips in Nevada. The Assateague photos won’t be up for a while, since the International Center of Photography, where I print, is on break for a few months...
Burlesque and pin-up classes
09/09/10 11:35
The press has been responding very well to the burlesque and pin-up classes I’ve been running from my new studio in Philly, with a mentions in City Paper and Daily Candy during our last round of classes, and the Philly Inquirer coming to do a story on the Fundamentals of Striptease class this time around. Exciting!
For details, go to: www.studionoirfinishingschool.com
For details, go to: www.studionoirfinishingschool.com
Wild horses adventures!
09/09/10 11:16
I was very fortunate to go to Assateague Island this past weekend in search for wild horses. I’ve been photographing wild horse herds in the U.S. for several years now, but have never had the opportunity to visit Assateague.
The island shattered whatever illusion I’d previously had of the romanticized notion of the “desert isle.” It was hot, hot, hot, with a small wooded area providing the only shade on the spit of beach. Not realizing that Assateague is a tourist destination for the beach going crowd, I’d envisioned being more or less left alone, at peace, with the horses. But this beach was just like any other, with sand, and sea, and sun. Not my cup of tea. The horses, also wishing to escape the heat, were cozied up in an inaccessible inlet, out of reach of my camera lens.
“Why was the inlet inaccessible?” you ask? Not because of lack of trails leading to it, but because of an overabundance of mosquitoes. I’m not usually put off by the little buggers, but we came to the conclusion that the mosquitoes on Assateague are really radio controlled devices that serve to keep people on the trails and prevent them from wandering. Every time I took a few steps off the trail, a SWARM of them would surround me, like those photos you see of beekeepers, or some ‘50’s horror movie. It was freaky. And itchy.
Luckily, just as we were heading out, a bit disappointed, a park ranger was herding some horses back onto the island. We postponed our departure and spent another hour or so following the horses around the parking lot, as they circled cars. At times, it was almost like they were performing some sort of ritual, all walking single file around one particular car for several loops.
I don’t usually like to photograph horses with the “hand of man” present, but with this project, I’ve come to find that these wild herds often live partially in their own world and partially in that of man. Because this is their reality, I’ve accepted the fact that in order to document their existence, I should include images of them in their actual surroundings, not only in my fantasy version of them.
I left satisfied with what I’d shot, but I’m looking forward to going back in the fall and camping for an extended period of time, when there are fewer people and fewer mosquitoes.
The island shattered whatever illusion I’d previously had of the romanticized notion of the “desert isle.” It was hot, hot, hot, with a small wooded area providing the only shade on the spit of beach. Not realizing that Assateague is a tourist destination for the beach going crowd, I’d envisioned being more or less left alone, at peace, with the horses. But this beach was just like any other, with sand, and sea, and sun. Not my cup of tea. The horses, also wishing to escape the heat, were cozied up in an inaccessible inlet, out of reach of my camera lens.
“Why was the inlet inaccessible?” you ask? Not because of lack of trails leading to it, but because of an overabundance of mosquitoes. I’m not usually put off by the little buggers, but we came to the conclusion that the mosquitoes on Assateague are really radio controlled devices that serve to keep people on the trails and prevent them from wandering. Every time I took a few steps off the trail, a SWARM of them would surround me, like those photos you see of beekeepers, or some ‘50’s horror movie. It was freaky. And itchy.
Luckily, just as we were heading out, a bit disappointed, a park ranger was herding some horses back onto the island. We postponed our departure and spent another hour or so following the horses around the parking lot, as they circled cars. At times, it was almost like they were performing some sort of ritual, all walking single file around one particular car for several loops.
I don’t usually like to photograph horses with the “hand of man” present, but with this project, I’ve come to find that these wild herds often live partially in their own world and partially in that of man. Because this is their reality, I’ve accepted the fact that in order to document their existence, I should include images of them in their actual surroundings, not only in my fantasy version of them.
I left satisfied with what I’d shot, but I’m looking forward to going back in the fall and camping for an extended period of time, when there are fewer people and fewer mosquitoes.