1995 Year in Review

8"x10" film

1995 began with some intensive studio sessions, with both single and couple models. The studio is a difficult, intensely problematic place for me, giving incredibly rich imagery, yet with little content beyond the obvious. More than anything, I use the studio as a place to play during the winter, until it is warm enough to work outside again. The work I did in the studio this winter, however, was the strongest yet, though that is more because of the images of the couple I worked with, than as a result of any breakthrough in approach or perception.

4"x5" film

Once the weather warmed in the spring, I began to photograph again outdoors. Working with A_ on a huge breakwater lead to one of my strongest nudes to date, an image made stronger by the ambiguity of gender present in the image.

4"x5" film

The summer of 1995 marked the first time I exhibited my figure work in public, in a group exhibition entitled "re:nude", which I curated at the Anna Leonowen's Gallery at the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design (NSCAD). The exhibit was to be an overview of photographic work addressing the body which had been produced at NSCAD over the previous year. The preparation of my work for the exhibit was a challenge, being the first time I had to layout my entire body of work to date and select those images which best presented what I wished to say.

The interesting outcome of this exhibition was the realization that there were only five images from the previous six years of work with the Nude which were totally successful. I could have easily selected 20 or 30 images to show that came close to fulfilling my aesthetic, but if I had to had to display even seven prints, as opposed to five, I doubt I could have accomplished it. On the whole, the first public showing of my work was a really positive experience, both from the perspective of the selection of the work, and the reception of the exhibition.

4"x5" film

It is something that I think I harp on, but the one hard thing about working with the figure is that one is totally dependent upon another to create images. The dynamic which is created by introducing another into the creative process is indescribable; when it works well, it is like an uncontrollable flash-fire. When there is the drive to create, however, and no-one to work with, the closest parallel I can draw is the frustration of an itch that has to be scratched.

4"x5" film

Previously the most viable solution to this creative conundrum, however, had been forts, but this summer, forts were either inaccessible or not speaking as they usually did, so I began to flounder and scramble desperately for subjects that would give me what I sought. The two rock images here were the first successful images that I made that were neither nudes nor forts. It would take another three years for the seed that they placed to grow to maturity, but they did answer a need, and give me a revelation that what I wish to say is less rooted in the subject than the vision.

4"x5" film

The remainder of the summer was a rich mix of work with the forts and a good session with S_ again. The fort images were predominantly produced with my 8x10 large format camera, drawing heavily on the influence of the Royal Engineer's photos from a century before. The nudes with S_ were among my first attempt is year to work in woods. The vast majority of my nudes to this date are set against rock and shoreline, and I would be the first to admit that this is a rather limiting selection of settings. The other major accomplishment in the work with S_ was a number of very strong Infra-red nudes we produced. Infra-red film had been something I had played with for several years, without particularly successful results (partially through technical errors, and Kodak's particularly bad instructions). This summer was different though, and served to convince me that IR nudes could be successful and strong.

35mm infrared film

Given the success of the IR nudes from the summer, in the fall of 1995, when I did some studio images of A_ and V_, I did about 1/3 of the images in both conventional and IR film. In the studio, the sculptural quality of Infra-red is enhanced by the ability to direct light across the body, describing mass through light and texture alone, in a way that is impossible with traditional film.

4"x5" film

The nudes of A_ and V_ were successful on many different levels. A_ was a very good friend, and wanted to work with me in the studio with V_, having been very impressed with the previous couple nudes I had shown him. Though the images shown here don't depict it, one of the richest points to the session was the there was considerable difference in the skin colour of the two, creating a rich contrast between his skin and hers.

35mm film

In October, I had the chance to attend an Arts Conference in Montreal, and used it as an opportunity to challenge my attachment to the view camera. It wasn't practical to take my 4x5, a tripod and other accouterments, so I made myself a deal - no view camera, but the best I could do in 35mm - a top of the line Leica camera, with three unparalleled lenses, and five rolls of my favourite film, T-Max 100. For five days, I spent my evenings and mornings walking around Montreal, finding images and settings that drew me in and struggling to capture them on film. Even before I developed the negatives, I knew the results. Every image I liked, my first thought was "would be strong if I'd had a view camera". The images were little more than sketches. I was so used to the recording power of the view camera that even 8"x10" enlargements began to breakdown on a technical level for me, though no-one else would have seen anything to object to. All the images were, simply put, too small. There wasn't enough investment in them for the weight I wanted them to carry - they were too quick and easy. 1995 was the last time I used conventional 35mm film (as opposed to 35mm infrared film) for anything other than documentation, or making money.

Digital composite of 4"x5" film

When I returned from Montreal, I began to move from learning to creating in my Digital Photo Course. Where the first six weeks had been spent learning the basics of digital manipulation, we were now beginning to apply our new skill-set to our own images and vision. My final work for the digital course consisted of six images, each a combination of a natural element and a studio nude. I was so enthralled with the process after taking the course that I was convinced I would be working with digital to produce a larger set of nudes as soon as I could arrange for access to the equipment. I have since continued on the digital nudes, but not with the clarity I reached in the class. I think that, similar to the Fort Charlotte Project in 1994, the success of the digital nude project came as much out of the intensity of the work as the idea or process itself. Spending such a short time so focused on one subject reaps incredible rewards for me. Knowing this gave (and continues to give) me a further tool to apply to my future work.

1994 Year in Review

8"x10" film

One aspect of my photographic work that is under-represented on this site is my portrait photos. I haven't posted many for the simple reason that portraits seldom work beyond the immediate circle of friends of the subject...a photo of a stranger is simply that - an image of someone you do not know. I do love portraiture however, and continue to add to this body of work.

4"x5" film

Unlike my portraits, my Nude work has almost the opposite element; the anonymity of the model encourages the viewer to consider the universality of the body, and in some cases, even the mutability of gender. My early studio nudes avoided faces simply because my models were not comfortable with their identity being known. As my work grew though, I realized that if a Nude contained a face, it was a photo of a person, whereas, if it contained an anonymous model, it became an image about the body, not individuality. I often create nude portraits of my figure models, but seldom show these works, as they function in a very different way from the main body of my work with the figure.

4"x5" film

It is almost the reverse process with my images of the fortifications around Halifax. Generally speaking, my fort images are about specific sites, about the flow of history and time over the creations of man. Occasionally though, I do make a anonymous image, which speaks more about the aesthetics of time than the specifics of a location. This reversal of technique puzzled me for a long while, until 1994, when I started thinking about the ruins as individuals, with their own characters and flavours. In that context, the lack of "universal" images of the forts made sense. With my figure work, it is important for me to maintain a discussion about the general, while with the forts, I am discussing specifics of location and history.

8"x10" film

The summer of 1994 was very strong in regards to my figure work, having a unique opportunity built into it. A_, a friend from Scotland, was visiting for three weeks, and was basically to function as a live-in model for that entire period. While the weather didn't co-operate all the time during her visit, I did have the opportunity to work very intensely over a short period of time with a single model, something I hadn't previously had the opportunity to do.

35mm film

The work I produced with A_ was exceptional for several reasons. One, it was produced over a fairly short time period, which lead to a very strong rapport between her and I, giving more comfort to the second and subsequent session than is usually present. Two, A_ was more interested in modelling for me than for herself; her reason for modelling was because she wanted to help me with my art, as opposed to wanted nudes of herself. This subtly changed the interaction between us, and more experiments and risk were tried than usual. A_'s patience allowed me to use the 8x10 camera (though she did fall asleep once), and produce a surprising amount of images in a two week period.

8"x10" film

I think, in some ways, the most surprising results of the work I did with A_ was the fact that though she was keen to model, and was very interested in seeing the contact prints from the sessions, she didn't ask for a single print. She was very pleased with the work, and that I had images I really liked, but simply didn't want copies for herself. It was a very different experience from all my previous models, who were interested in both helping me with my work, and in receiving prints for their own.

4"x5" film

When I started back at the Art College in the fall, one of my first photo session was in the studio with S_, a model I'd worked with earlier in the summer. She, like A_, was modelling more to propel my work than out of personal interest. We'd never worked together in the studio, and the session was a real success. By this point I was pretty much intuitive in the studio, using light rather than struggling with it, and as a result of the conscious breakthrough of the previous year with the idea of Mortalities, I even had a clue as to why I was making the images. The fact that studio work still remained hollow and less meaningful to me was insurmountable, but the quality of the images was closer to what I sought than anything else to date.

8"x10" film

In the fall of 1994, as part of my final photo course at the Art College, I took a documentary photo course. I saw it as an opportunity to finalize the format and content of the work I'd been producing on the Fortress Halifax. The timing of the course coincided perfectly with some conservation/restoration work that Parks Canada was doing on Fort Charlotte, located on George's Island in Halifax Harbour.

8"x10" film

In some ways, the Fort Charlotte Project was an ideal situation, as I had the time and energy to dedicate to documenting the site, and an environment which permitted me the freedom to experiment with form and content without any preconceived ideas of what is "right". I was in pure heaven for the weeks that I photographed on the island, both because it was an incredible subject, and because it represented a period of uninterrupted work, something that occurs only on rare occasions.

4"x5" film

The major accomplishment of the Fort Charlotte Project wasn't so much the strength of the images, though those more than met my expectations but rather the final layout, and the multi-layering which I hit upon as a presentation technique. By using copies made from the original Royal Engineer's plans in juxtaposition with my contemporary photographs, I made a link between the pre-historical intent of the site and its post-historical outcome (pre-historical because the plans show the intent before the realization, and post-historical because the photos are after the site has ceased to have its original meaning). In the final piece there was no reference to the actual purpose of the fort, though it was implicit within the architecture. I addressed the site as a purely aesthetic space, and permitted the viewer to draw their own conclusions about the site's place in history.

Reproductions of original plans, 4"x5" and 8"x10" film

The final project consisted of seven interwoven panels. Produced before my initiation into the world of Digital imaging, the final prints represented a pinnacle in my darkroom work to date, printed with multiple negatives on single sheets of paper, each print requiring between 6 and 9 separate printings, each with a different mask. Today, if I was to put together this project, I'd assemble it in Photoshop and have far more control over the registration and layout. As it is though, the final project was a major step forward, both in design, and simply as a technical achievement.

1993 Year in Review

8"x10" film

If 1991 was seminal in my growth towards my work today, then 1993 was a year of major growth in terms of discovering why I do what I do. It was also the year that I started using the word "Mortalities" to describe my images. In some ways, discovering the idea of Mortalities was just as important as realizing the images which portray it and I will explain more of what this concept means to me in the context of 1993's discoveries.

4"x5" film

The year begun on an incredible high. M_, who had modeled for me over the winter indoors and in the studio, did some mid-May modelling at Chebucto Head. From that session came the image at the top which spoke so clearly that for weeks I could think of nothing else. It still is among my strongest images, and as a circle is pretty unique among my images. It's one of the few images which I have which is unique both in composition and pose. Much of my work tends to be variations on themes, but this images is almost singular in tone, and, as such, is among the best of my work.

8"x10" film

Where 1993 began with a strong nude, it also provided a long, steady flow of successful images of the fortifications around Halifax. Though I had started consciously working with the Ruin in 1990, it wasn't until this year that I began to put my abstract ideas into a concrete form.

8"x10" film

In some ways, being asked to explain why I do what I do is the most frustrating part of art making. The images flow well enough, but when it comes to explaining why, I tend to fall flat. In 1991, however, I began to analyze exactly what attracted me to the Nude and the Ruin, and to see parallels and similarities between them. It was this process which eventually lead to the use of the word "Mortalities" in conjunction with both bodies of work. The pull of the Nude and Ruin for me lies in their connection to ideas of permanence and immortality. The Ruin, with its monolithic strength and forceful imposition screams of man's constant struggle with the world around him, and his refusal to accept the fleeting nature of his existence.

8"x10" film

Similarly, photography of the Nude could be seen as an attempt towards gaining immortality through the recording of a body on film. When I began working with the Nude five years before, I was drawn to it in a way I couldn't express - there was a very quiet element to the work that refused to be named, but which was integral to my interest. It took five years for me to grow sensitive enough to listen to the whisper - the whisper of immortality. The reality that these photographs will outlive their subjects gives them an immortality that is unattainable by their subjects in the real world. From the moment the images are frozen on film, they remain unchanged, though the world around them moves on. The images serve as a reminder of the fleeting nature of life, and of the irresistible march of time. Mortalities, in the same manner as it applies to the ruin, has a parallel meaning with the nude.

4"x5" film

Becoming conscious of this element in my work didn't so much change my work as change the way I looked at it. Where before I could express my interest in the aesthetic nature of the body, I could now explain why photography played such a crucial part in that process; a drawing or painting was an obvious expression of the vision of the artist, but it was also created in a media that did not lend itself to verisimilitude, to the imitation of the real. Even photo-realistic painting is just that, a painting. People view photography as being of the real, and and extension of this to the creation of a photograph, ever unchanging, makes it become the creation of an immortal moment.

8"x10" film

With the discovery of the elements of immortality in my work, there was an instant connection between my nude and ruin images on a concrete level. Where before I was working blind, following instinct and drive, I suddenly began to be able to view my work, previously divided into separate bodies, as part of a whole. Photographs of fading concrete, being overwhelmed by time and nature, and images of the body, frozen forever in an instant of beauty, served as quiet, haunting reminders of the frailty of ourselves. Beyond the aesthetic, visual appeal of the work, there was now a deeper level of understanding for me, which permitted me more distance from each individual image, and a way to join the work in a holistic sense.

8"x10" film

The moving beyond knowing what I wanted to express into knowing why I was expressing it was incredibly important to my work. A conscious purpose is simpler to follow and express than a sub-conscious one, and from 1993 onward, the main focus of debate and issue in my work shifted from the what and why, to how. Where before I debated abstracts and concepts, now I could settle down and look at technique.

8"x10" film

Denise Models in a Ruin (Spion Copp, Nova Scotia)

4"x5" film

For this session, in hopes of avoiding having to work in direct mid-day sun, Denise and I headed to some old World War II bunkers. The first set of images were made next to one of the open windows, using the reflection off the wall and floor to light Denise's back, and provide some modeling to what normally would have been a silhouette.

8"x10" film

As the afternoon moved on, we headed outside, moving through the woods from shady spot to shady sport; in the end we found a line or moss covered rocks the sloped down to the harbour, and presented a perfect location for a back-on image.

8"x10" film

More than almost any other image I have made, the above photograph speaks for itself. There is a simple beauty to the pose, and the soft directional light play up the beautiful line of the neck, shoulders and arm.

Denise first posed for me in 1989, and most recently posed in 2010. This image was included in 2003’s Portfolio XV.

1992 Year in Review

4"x5" Polaroid

As I slowly grew to understand what I sought to express though my photography, I started to create more and more images which came close to my vision. The hard thing about photography is the fact that it is a visual media, and explaining your goals and ideas is often impossible. The closer I came to realizing my goals, the more frustrated I became at my inability to describe them. In some ways this was a Catch-22 - to make the images I had to describe my concepts, and to describe the concepts, I needed images.

4"x5" film

Occasionally though, I have met people who have had enough trust and understanding to work with me blind so to speak. I knew L_ quite well by the time she modeled for me, and her working with me was more based upon our friendship than her desire to be photographed, and this freed up the images I made. I seldom work with the nude indoors, but among the work I have made, the images of L_ are certainly among the strongest.

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Though I had started working with 4"x5" extensively the year before, in 1992 I was still working with 35mm a lot as well. There are undeniable advantages to a small-format camera, the most evident is portability and ease of use. The more involved I have become with large format photography, the fewer photos I make in the winter. There in 1991 I had started using large format, in 1992 I made a further leap and purchased an 8"x10" camera. The image to the right is one of the first successful images I made with it, thought the lens I had did not quite cover the negatives (this accounts for the darkening at the edges). 8"x10" is certainly an incredibly gratifying format to work in - the negatives are incredible and unparalleled, especially when compared to 35mm negs. There is a richness of tone and a sharpness which is indescribable. There is a trade-off, however, in the 8"x10's weight and inherent restrictions - with only 6 film holders, I can only make 12 images before returning to a darkroom. Thus, while 8"x10" work is among my favourite, the camera tends to sit more than it's used, simply because of the physical demands it makes on the whole process.

8"x10" film

Over the summer of 1992, I continued to explore the pull that architectural sites had for me, photographing the industrial waterfront of Halifax, and working on the ruined fortifications of McNab and George's Island. At the time, I was simply doing what came naturally, as I was with the Nude, and finding the results fed the process. It slowly became apparent to me as I rejected newer, "clean" buildings for those worn and weathered that what I found compelling about photographing architecture was not the structure itself, but the intricate effects of nature which became etched on its surface.

4"x5" film

As my work with buildings continued, so did my work with nudes. As would be a constant frustration in the years to come, I started the summer without models, and continued to work on self-portraiture, accepting its limitations. One advantage to the deliberate nature of large format photography is that so much time is put into the composition of the image that often the nude is just the final element to an already strong image. Without the ability to view the image on the ground-glass as it is made, I had to rely upon visualization to conceive of the image in the field. More often than not, what actually was on the film was a little different. Frustrating but true.

4"x5" fiom

One of the neat things about photographing the fort ruins on the harbour islands is that they are ever changing - what I capture on film one year may be irrevocably changed by the next; this is true of both natural decay and deliberate restoration. The ribbed tubing on the left was stored within the casemates for several summers, only to suddenly disappear one year, apparently placed somewhere to assist in drainage. These changes fascinated me, and at the time were a central motivator for my documentation. r

8"x10" film

Given that I had a new toy, the 8"x10" camera, my first desire was to put it through its paces. I had made some nude portraits of L_ earlier in the year, with great success, but I really wanted to get outdoors and work with the nude and the camera. It wasn't until August that I would have the chance with C_, a friend of a friend. She and M_, who would model for me later, wanted to model together, but the schedules never synched, so C_ and I went out to work late in August. We worked around one of the outer ruins, playing with the light that fell through the trees and building windows onto the floor. Unbeknownst to both of us, etched on the wall above C_ were the faint words "True Love For Ever". This subtle graffiti changes the reading of the image to one much darker, and both C_ and I thought it was a far more successful image though the introduction of the random element than before it.

35mm film

Though I had stopped photographing bands in a serious manner a year before, I still had a love for good concert photography, so when an amazing band played, I showed up with camera in hand. One of the most amazing experiences I have ever had in my life was witnessing the rise and fall of Bubaiskull, simply the best band I have ever had the pleasure to experience. The music, live show and sheer power of the band was awe-inspiring, and they developed a hardcore following in the city for the 18 months of their presence.

4"x5" film

The close of 2002 saw M_ posing one morning in my living room, Rather than taking my usual approach, and trying to keep the background featureless, I used shallow depth of field to minimize any distractions, focusing the eye of the viewer on the body instead.

A First Figure Session (Spion Copp, Nova Scotia)

35mm film

K_ approached me about modeling after seeing the work I'd done with a mutual friend; after meeting to talk the process over, we agreed on a date, and a week later, began our first session. I started the session with a simple portrait: K_ had stated to undress, and paused to ask a question; I liked her comfortable stance against the wall.

35mm film

I like the simple grace of this image; K_'s figure lit by the soft window ligh, and the non-descript surroundings of the Second World War fortification.

8"x10" film

The last images of the session were a series of large format photographs of K_ lying on the floor within the concrete building; it was only after processing them that I saw the faint writing on the wall "My Love for Ever"; for me, that shifted the image to be far darker and more sinister than I'd intended.

1991 Year in Review

35mm film

1991 started on a sombre note, with the Gulf War beginning the day before my birthday. For the next two weeks I went to nightly vigils with my partner and, occasionally, my daughter. I used to think I was fortunate to live in a country that was never at war during my lifetime. To my shame, and to my country's, this is no longer true. Unfortunately, many people misinterpreted our motivations for holding the vigils; all we wanted was for the military forces to come home where they belonged, and not to have to die in a war we didn't have to fight.

4"x5" film

For all intents and purposes, 1991 was the first year I really began to work towards where I am today in a concrete way. It was the first year in which I concentrated most of my photography in the summer, the first where my nude images met my expectations, and the first during which a 4"x5" camera would be my main tool. The start to the year was an incredible compliment; C_, a waitress at the bar where I regularly photographed bands, asked me to produce some nudes of her. She was thinking Playboyesque images, and even mentioned that she had a waterbed. I showed her some of my work and we worked out a deal where I'd make the images she wanted in return for her modelling for the images I was interested in making. In the end the photo she selected for her boyfriend was one of the one we'd made for me. C_ simply hadn't known there was an alternative to the ever prevalent images of the Nude as a sexual object.

4"x5" film

The images I'd produce of C_ were made indoors, but as soon as it was warm enough, I was working outside, predominantly on self-portraits, as I had no models to work with. Enough of these were successful to keep me at it, but the frustration of not being able to compose and arrange the images from behind the camera was ever present. The most enjoyable part of making these self-portraits was the reaction of people; almost unanimously, people assume the images are of a female. The androgynous nature of the images pleased me at the time, though it would become something I would struggle with in the future.

4"x5" film

1991 was also the year that my interest in the Ruin crystallized, in some ways spurred on by a visit I made to Sydney, in northern Nova Scotia. The heart of what is known as Industrial Nova Scotia, Sydney is home to both a large steel mill, and numerous WW II harbour defences, being a staging area for Trans-Atlantic convoys. I spent an afternoon photographing the collapsed Coke Oven (before being politely asked to leave by the security people) and a full day photographing the remains of the forts. Though very different from the remains of Fortress Halifax, the Sydney ruins proved that my fascination was deeper than my simple affection for the places I had clambered over as a child, being based upon the sheer wonder of the spaces as a visual plane. I haven't managed to return to Sydney since 1991, but it would be a wonderful project to undertake some year, completing the work I started on the harbour defences.

4"x5" film

One of the most seductive things to me photographically is good studio photography. There is nothing like a sharp, well created studio portrait or nude to draw me in. The incredible detail and subtly that can be portrayed through a studio image is almost unequaled in the natural word. E_, who I'd work with occasionally in the future, worked with me one evening in my apartment, lit by a low-level borrowed flash-kit. We had to soften the light though sheets, but in the end the images were quite successful. It would take me another three years to separate my love of the studio's ability to record information from my frustration with its lack of context.

4"x5" film

C_, who'd worked with me earlier in the year, wanted to try some outdoor nudes as well, so on the last day in August, we took a boat to one of the harbour islands, and spent the afternoon making images. This session was one of the pivotal points in my work, and helped make 1991 a seminal year. Towards the end of the day, C_ was sitting on the side of a lighthouse when the sun came out. She leaned forward to cover her eyes from the glare, and in that instant I made the first nude which totally surpassed my expectations and fulfilled everything I wanted to portray in my work. These images are few and far between, and though many come close, and are certainly eminently successful in their own way, over the past decade there have been less than two handfuls of such images.

Two 4"x5" film images

In the fall of 1991, returning to Nova Scotia College of Art and Design brought the familiar separation between my work, and course work. All term, while working on my projects, I printed images from the summer, and made new ones in the studio. The image to the left was the piece I sold to the Nova Scotia Art bank, and served as a major boost to my confidence. It's also one of the few images I have titled, naming it "Equine" for it's obvious horsy referent neck. J_, who modelled for the image, was very supportive of my work, but never modelled nude for personal reasons. The fact that an image of her was the first "nude" I sold amused her to no end.

4"x5" film

My major photo project for the fall of 1991 was made in a class entitled "Framing One's Self - putting the personal in your artwork". I took it thinking it might be a class where I could integrate my personal work back into school. No such luck. Rather than working my nudes into my project, I focused on other far more personal issues, addressing the memory of past relationships and how they are constructed via photography, words and text. It was in some ways the only conceptual piece I have ever made.

The final project consisted of two larger-than-life foetal nude self-portraits arranged on a black circle in a yin-yang fashion. Each nude was covered with 4"x6" pieces of either image or text. It was supposed to represent the two aspects of memory - with some of the text or photos blank or black, representing lost or concealed memories. Though I had hoped to use the class to reintegrate my personal work into my school work and failed, I did produce a reasonably successful final, which, given my frustration with the college at the time, was a success.