On February 15, we went to Philly to see Living Image at the Halide Project. The exhibition showcases contemporary artists working in alternative and historic process photographic techniques and was juried by Adam Finkelston of The Hand Magazine. I felt insanely honored to be included in this exhibition – all of the work was so stunning. Lots of cyanotype!
Some of the work that really stood out to me include:
This was Joni’s first time in Philly and we were still hype on the Eagles win.
I took dance classes from ages 10-12 – ballet, tap, and jazz. I left that to play softball and left softball to do stage tech. My fascination with ballet never left, however, and since college, I would often fantasize about dancing en pointe. I watched this video too many times. I recently remembered that when I was around six or seven years old, a recurring motif in my drawings was ballerinas, and their pointe shoes looked like old-fashioned hair dryers.
I had accepted that my ballet dreams would be unfulfilled because I hadn’t been dancing since I was a child, but when Libby told me she signed up for adult beginner ballet, I was absolutely stunned. Sign me up.
I’ve now been dancing ballet for about a year and a half, and Libby and I met one of our closest friends, Angelica, through it, along with so many other amazing people.
I have spent a lot of time thinking about the intersections of ballet and visual art. The Impressionistic paintings of Edgar Degas are undoubtedly the most well-known ballet-themed works of art, probably followed by Renoir. I love the softness of Renoir’sThe Dancer and the brushstrokes and color in Dancers in Pink by Jean-Louis Forain (and I love how exhausted they all look).
But, of course, I’ve been thinking mostly of photography and ballet. I found a book at Wonderbook of ballet dancers photographed by Maurice Seymour, a brother photographer duo who worked from the 30s-60s. I was taken aback by the beauty of the images, and really drawn to the darker ones. They are ethereal, haunting, and delicate. The lighting is spectacular.
I have a lot of dreams (nightmares?) where I am creating the BEST photos of my entire life, and then suddenly my battery dies, I run out of film, the sun goes away, or I wake up. Recently, one of these dreams was about photographing ballerinas. I can’t stop thinking about trying to capture the translucence and movement of the costumes, the delicate strength of the dancers, and all the shiny sparkles.
Last June, I danced in my first spring recital at my studio. We performed at the Weinberg Center, which was a stellar experience. I learned the dressing rooms are below the stage (is this normal?) and our worlds were absolutely rocked by the tap dancers above us.
I brought my digital camera to dress rehearsal. This entire process had been so impactful, I couldn’t not photograph behind the scenes. The bottom image will be on view at the Washington County Museum of Fine Arts in spring 2025.
My Holga is the lightest camera I own, so it’s the one I can bring with me everywhere. If you know the nature of the Holga, though, the below images are no surprise. Blurry, not enough light – I definitely needed a tripod to shoot on the bulb setting.
These photos are from our fall studio showcase. Going for more of a film-y snapshot feel with these.
And fun pics for posterity’s sake.
Please send me more ballerinas in art history!
On the first Sunday of 2025, I went to the darkroom at Glen Echo Park. It was my first time printing in a traditional darkroom in ten years – since I was a sophomore at Shepherd in 2015. I gathered a few envelopes of recent Holga negatives, grabbed a couple boxes of expired darkroom paper, scoured our apartment for my contrast filters (I found them buried in the hallway closet, just to learn that the darkroom had a bunch, of course), and I was on my way.
About a 45 minute drive down 270 from Frederick (on a Sunday), Glen Echo Park sits on the edge of the Potomac River, just across from Virginia and right next to DC. It was an amusement park for nearly 70 years until it closed in 1968. It has an important history, which you can read about here. Today, it’s a visual and performing arts center, with an entire area dedicated to both digital and analog photography.
I’m one of those people that gets the heebie-jeebies from old/abandoned amusement park type stuff, but it is really cool to experience. From what I saw, every original building was repurposed, except for the Crystal Pool.
With some help from Sebastian Hesse Kastien, I got to printing in no time. I was nervous, but it really is muscle memory. I wanted to tackle a print of Erin, and I knew I would need to add quite a bit of contrast.
Neither one of those looked good, and I forgot to refocus the enlarger for the bottom print, but it was soooo fun. After a long ass time working on that print, I finally got one I was happy with and moved on to the Elks Lodge Parade marching band kids.
I love this test strip as a print itself. Sebastian kept saying he couldn’t believe it was taken with a Holga and neither can I. That picture is nice. It was an intensely sunny summer day. I just looove the way the light ricochets off the tuba and the kid who is all business. I’m pretty sure my final print ended up being a three second exposure under the enlarger.
I also made a print of Davy to give to them, because they told me it was their favorite photo ever taken of them, which is the highest honor a photographer could ever receive. This was the only non-Holga pic I printed – it was taken on my Bronica.
One of the things I realized I missed most about being in a darkroom is the community. I got there as soon as it opened, but people started to slowly trickle in, and it was really nice. I truly cannot wait to find the time to go back. (@ Frederick Book Arts Center, please please please open your darkroom soon and help me save on gas.)
In other news, I found this glass negative in the back of an antique Brazilian The Last Supper artwork. I can’t even remember where I bought it. I finally went to hang it up recently and I heard glass moving around in the back. I opened it up to reveal this:
Joni and I were able to date this to the early 40s from the newspaper clippings in the back. Since this was an 8x10 negative, my plan is to make a contact print next time I make it out to Glen Echo.
I think that’s it for now.
