portfolios — FLOAT

Mar 21

Mar 21 Bill Gore

Song of the Saugatuck | This project began with winter walks along the Saugatuck River and a fascination with the cascading falls, the dark pools, and the gleaming ice formations. My image making is grounded in photographs of the river and all that I see in the present tense. But I am drawn to digital imagery as an avenue into my mental pictures of the energy of the rushing waters and the life forces that unite and nourish all that lives along the riverbanks. In making these images my thoughts and feelings go back to the people that once lived here and at the same time fast forward to the future.

The Saugatuck River has nurtured indigenous cultures for thousands of years. The most recent inhabitants were the Paugussetts who were erased by the colonists leaving only their word “saugatuck” meaning flowing waters. The culture of the white man causes change and so now we must ask what comes next. Will these waters continue to flow and what happens when the winter months are too warm for ice to form?www.billgorephotography.com

Mar 15

Mar 15 R. J. Kern

In 2016, I made portraits of youth contestants at Minnesota county fairs. Each participant—some as young as four years old— spent a year raising an animal, which they entered into a 4-H livestock competition. None of the youth I photographed succeeded in winning an award, despite the obvious care they have given to their animal.
Four years later, in 2020, I returned to photograph the young subjects, asking them what they carried forward from their previous experience. Some of them have continued to pursue animal husbandry while others developed other interests. We imagine some of these kids will choose to continue running their family farms, an unpredictable and demanding way to make a living.

As I created the second group of photographs, I asked them what were their thoughts, their dreams, and their goals for the future? How do they fit in the future of agricultural America?

The Unchosen Ones depicts the bloom of youth and the mettle of the kids who grow up on farms, reminding us how resilient children can be when confronted with life’s inevitable disappointments. The formal quality of the lighting and setting endow these young people with a gravitas beyond their years, revealing self-direction dedication in some, and in others, perhaps, the pressures of traditions imposed upon them. The portraits capture a particular America, a rural world, and a time in life when the layered emotions of youth are laid bare. www.rjkern.com

Michiko Chiyoda

Mar 8

Mar 8 Michiko Chiyoda

I am ready to dream a dream with her | My dear Midori-San, How have you been there since we last communicated? I am still here and would like to ask you to wait for me for a while.

I want to reiterate how precious the moments I had with you are to me, as I look back over the five years we spent together while creating our works. I remember you said ‘thank you’ at times, but I am wondering how many times I said it to you, so I am writing you this letter.

I love your ‘SOMEBANA’ works, which are fabricated from your sensitive mind and fingers. It was five years ago, in the winter of 2015, when you asked me to join you in your work based on the theme of Prayer, I was absolutely thrilled. At the same time, however, I was shocked and lost for words upon your confession of having stage-3 cancer. “God knows my way to go from now on.” You simply added the phrase ---- as if you were trying to ease my silence. You always seemed to be imperturbably calm to me, and I assumed it was because you held certain prayers inside. I remember, I once asked what prayer meant to you. Your answer was “Prayer means dialogue with God, and my flowers embody it.” I am not sure I could understand it instantly, but I was mysteriously moved on the spot.

I visited Nagatsuka Monastery in Hiroshima, which you introduced me to, and at that time, my purpose was to try to find and understand the meaning of prayer for me. I spent days there, in a calm and silent environment surrounded by forest. I tried to speak to myself, and seek my innermost essence. I think I could have experienced moments of being filled with gratitude, and I sometimes felt unstable arrogant emotions. I think that there, I discovered that prayer for me just meant my wishes. I knew I could do nothing for her fate coming to an end. I have to admit, I was always frustrated that I had no power to change it and, as a result, I felt a tightness in my chest. One thing--just one thing--I could make up my mind there was that I would keep creating works with you, and keep dreaming a dream in which we share our joy in the accomplishment of our collaborations down the road. This finally made me feel like I was reaching prayer.

The monastery had many windows, and I stared at the holy, transparent streams of light they emitted, timelessly. Your delight with the title of our work that I sent you never leaves my memory, and shortly returned, saying, ‘Souls never die.’ I hope you are also looking forward to meeting me, and just in case, I would like to make extra sure to let you know that you have to be prepared for my many questions that go along with my many thanks from the bottom of my heart. Sincerely, Michiko www.michikochiyoda.com

Mar 7

Mar 7 Sandra Bacchi

Watermelons Are Not Strawberries | In Watermelons Are Not Strawberries, I portray my inner transformation and pursuit of self-awareness while navigating the challenges related to parenting. The black and white photographs blend conceptual and documentary photography that reveals the shapes and shadows of my love for motherhood as it merges with a lifetime of my personal anxiety.

Over six years, the work grew into a story of resilience, hope, and mutual support between my children and me. in this creative process, I found the strength to heal old wounds by examining universal feelings such as sadness, happiness, and love.

My two daughters were challenged with severe food allergies and learning differences in their early years. In helping them cope with their adversities, was forced to delve into my dark places to confront the deeply entrenched fear, shame, and guilt that stem from my then-undiagnosed dyslexia and celiac disease.

I didn't want my girls to feel the constant neurotic need to fit into the social norms, as I did my whole life. so, we established our own “normal” way to live our lives, creating a sense of complicity and empathy among each other, building a stronger relationship.

While I was advocating for my daughters, I learned how to advocate for myself. While I was trying to understand them, I deeply understood myself. sandrabacchi.com

Mar 2

Mar 2 Jaime Alvarez

Fishtown Daily | Fishtown Daily is a documentary project about the transformation of Fishtown, a neighborhood in Philadelphia. Fishtown is on the shore of the Delaware River, and butts up against three neighborhoods, Northern Liberties, Port Richmond, and Kensington. The whole area used to be filled with warehouses and factories until they started shutting down in the middle of the 20th century. Now developers have come in and demolished older building and warehouses in order to try to fit in as many new projects as possible, raising prices and taxes of people that have lived here for decades. www.jaimephoto.com

Feb 28

Feb 28 Vanessa Leroy

as our bodies lift up slowly (ongoing) | There isn’t a lot of space for dreaming in an oppressive world, so I use photography as a tool to create worlds where I freely navigate the various facets of my life experience and identity as a black queer woman. In this body of work titled "as our bodies lift up slowly," I weave the viewer between the past and present using archival family photographs, text, collages, and environmental portraits. I’m inspired by Octavia Butler’s novel Kindred, in which the young black protagonist Dana Franklin navigates a shifting timeline to uncover truths about her family lineage.

Additionally, I employ text from Toni Morrison’s novel Beloved, a story following a formerly enslaved woman named Sethe whose home is haunted by the spirit of her deceased child, creating a situation where she and her daughter are constantly swallowed by the overwhelming grief of losing years of life to brutal slavery and the loss of a life that never got to grow. I create photographs that speak to and comfort my younger self, and the versions of myself that struggled to carry the weight of having poor mental health and low self-esteem. In revisiting the past and imagining the future, I have created space for myself to heal in the present. vanessaleroy.com

Feb 24

Feb 24 Amanda Tinker

Small Animal | In this series of photographs, I arrange details of the natural world collected from my family garden, children’s books and vintage identification guides. Each photograph looks at the natural world as if it were held just for our observation, suspended far from any recognizable landscape. Nature’s small beauties, such as birds, butterflies, twigs and petals become objects of contemplation, organized into layered configurations.

The 8x10” view camera used to make these photographs factors greatly into the work. The rather large piece of glass at the back of the camera, where each image is composed before exposure, offers inspiration. It is a projection screen for my interest in the early history of photography, particularly as a tool for studying nature. One can imagine an era just before the dawn of photography where views of nature stirred on the glass of a camera obscura. Nature had been transformed through optical devices giving way to a diminutive view; the landscape on a smaller, more intimate scale. This project, situated in the 21st century, reflects a more ambivalent, if not estranged, experience of the natural world.

Andrew Trousdale

Feb 23

Feb 23 Andrew Trousdale

The Original Colony | Dunmore Town, Eleuthera, 2020, The settlers saw the island for a purpose. So they made Dunmore Town. For a while it was the Capital. But it sits on top of longer history. And now the old roots are pushing through from beneath. The island is taking itself back. www.andrewtrousdale.com

Feb 22

Feb 22 Ksenia Inverse

Behind the Bookshelves | Village libraries form a crucial part in the social structure of any village as well as their communal lifestyle. Reading is not the main cause for visiting; each library is a centre for education, cultural events and entertainment. The spaces are used for distributing news, celebrating anniversaries and social gatherings. Village libraries nourish patriotism in the youth besides preserving national traditions and historical knowledge.

Many of the libraries are managed by just one employee each, most of them being women. They are the ones in charge of decorating the spaces which is why each library possesses a unique interior.

Village libraries' book funds rarely receive contributions; some funds have but a few hundreds of books available. Mobile data and smartphones have driven the public interest towards digital resources which village libraries often don’t have access to. The librarians compensate for the decline of interest in printed editions and the infrequent donations to the funds with organising various events within the library spaces, such as celebrations of renowned writers and poets' anniversaries, lectures on local history, open gatherings for children and adults, numerous workshops and quizzes. ksenia-inverse.com

Feb 17

Feb 17 Ruotong Guan

Falling. Slowly. but, | My photography practice explores the relationships between my family and me, the living space we share, and the idea of home. When making projects, I look to my own family history through different identities: as a daughter, a granddaughter, and an independent individual. With photography, I present my self growth while visualizing the intangible emotions.

The project “Falling. Slowly. but,” is a series of photographs made in my grandparents’ house, which they have been living in for over thirty years but is now on the governmental demolition list. The conflict between the natural aging and the brutal demolition is presented subtly through photographs. I make portraits of my grandparents and their home, and when I recreate the house with images, from one window to another, from the balcony to the bedroom, my memory is the thread to tie pieces together. In this process, I see my own presence, and it is my protest against forgetting. ruotongguanphoto.com

Feb 9

Feb 9 Michael Young

Hidden Glances | Hidden Glances is a series of photographs made from vintage gay pornography calendars published when I was beginning to recognize my sexuality as a youth until I came out in 2000. Before then, I skirted mention of my sexuality by hiding behind my studies, feigning interest in girls, and making failed attempts to fit in with the rest of the boys.

Calendars chronicle and mark time. In this work, they represent the long period in my life when others assumed I was straight, or I was told that being gay was wrong. Ironically, the men in these calendars portray sexualized heterosexual archetypes that many in the gay community have appropriated. These "manly" men that society was trying to train me to become ultimately became the men I longed to look at and galvanized my true identity.

Each image is made by hand cutting a figure from his scene, layering him over another month’s image, and then re-photographing the new composition. By eliminating the presence of exposed skin in the top layer, one muscular silhouette becomes a window that both reveals and conceals to create tension between the two layers. Ultimately through the lack of depth, I am creating visual compressions of all those years when I wanted to look at other guys and could only risk taking quick glimpses because I was afraid that my gaze would linger too long and expose my homosexuality. www.mjyoungphoto.com

Feb 8

Feb 8 Troy Williams

I’ve been photographing off and on for about 20 years. My interest was to make images that evoked memories of moments lived and moments imagined. Theatrical and cinematic representations of life in my rearview mirror. Moments of adolescent mysticism and teenage heroics. As time went on, these vivid and fantastical representations that had stirred my imagination started to give way to the necessary need to move forward. To start existing in the present. For many years it was a confusing and disappointing task of trial and error. I made countless images that tried to hold onto the parts of me that I begrudgingly didn’t want to let go of. I was changing but I didn’t know what I was changing into. Then came the pandemic. And as we all know, became a time of deep reflection. The necessity to be alone in order to protect ourselves and our community became the catalyst for who I was becoming. And once the lockdown started to recede, I headed out to the streets to begin to live my new life.

Portraits can be deeply moving. The connection between the subject, the photographer and the audience, in my belief, creates a community. It has the ability to bring forth the interiority of our desires, our faith, our aspirations, our apprehensions, our truth. It is this profound power that portraits have that brought me to my current version of myself. I want to experience our self expression intimately. And in the moment, as we live and breathe. And just as important as my need to connect, I make these street portraits as a way to honor and pay attention to the everyday people that I lovingly cross paths with. We are strong, resilient, creative and healing beings that have the power to lift each other up. We inspire when we live out loud with enthusiasm and compassion. Our surface shows so much of our spirit. A photograph is a beautiful vehicle between one soul to another. It is a gift. www.troywilliams.love

Jan 26

Jan 26 Aurelia Wrenn

Long winter gives way to a fleeting spring, messy and vibrant and sweetly scented in all its explosions of life. Languid midsummer stretches on, then falls. Fruits, flowers, and foodstuffs wilt and rot and glow lurid under sunlight... Beauty is made precious by its brevity. aureliawrenn.com

Jan 25

Jan 25 Daniel Keys

Concurrence | Concurrence is an ongoing series of portraits of the people around me. I decided to take portraits of my friends and family as a way of pinning down each person at that time in our lives, offering a view of that person and their circumstances. Living in London I have always found the cities multiculturalism reflected in my many connections with people from not only different countries but also varied economic backgrounds.

I was originally prompted by the UK’s controversial decision to leave the European Union, a selfish fear that the group of contacts I had surrounded myself with may be forced to leave. Many of those people had a sense of disappointment with the country they had decided to call home, even prompting some to leave of their own volition.

Each image is the outcome of a private interview/conversation between the sitter and myself and is a personal rumination of the coincidental nature of friendships and acknowledgment that the circumstances that bind people together are in a constant state of flux.

When photographing the portraits, I have endeavored to remove the presence of the camera as much as possible. I attained this by lining up the shot and focusing beforehand, using a cable release, and only occasionally checking the camera. Being able to engage my sitter in real conversation and pressing the shutter instinctually as and when it felt right to do so.

I decided to use the sitter’s bedrooms to frame the images as it facilitates the visual narrative, giving context to the sitter’s circumstances, fleshing out the subject to the audience whilst also providing a space for me to conduct the interviews. A safe space where the subjects feel comfortable, an intimate space. The interviews are not structured in a conventional sense and can flow, taking the route they wish, allowing the sitter to control the dialogue somewhat. Topics have ranged from childhood, relationships, hopes, fears, aspirations, and regrets. www.daniel-keys.co.uk

Jan 24

Jan 24 Jessica Swank

This body of work addresses humanity’s relationship with digital technology from a personal perspective. Through constructed photography and sculptural work, I point to the connections between humans, machines, and nature, emphasizing the blurred lines between each of these entities. Many of the overlaps and connections that I create are inspired by moments of realization as to how technology is interwoven in our lives. I use many elements that are remnants of myself or those close to me, including hair, life castings, dryer lint, and body images. I photograph the sculptural forms or assemblages I create out of these elements alongside natural materials, flesh-like membranes, and manufactured objects. The flesh-like silicone pieces represent extensions of myself and are created using tones from my own skin as a form of self-portraiture. The different ways the subjects of the photographs interact form a commentary on the seemingly dichotomous relationships between humans and machines.

The images within this series reside at the intersection of self-portraiture and documentary. A dialogue is formed between the subjects through the juxtaposition of organic and synthetic materials, such as the human body, fungi, and various manufactured objects. Their interactions within the photographs reinforce ideas of boundaries and invasion. Many of the images are direct and closely cropped, allowing the viewer to step into my own perspective. While my examination of digital technology’s impact is not comprehensive, it serves as an access point for viewers to formulate their own questions about technology’s impact on their own lived experience. Instead of offering the viewer a specific resolution, I exhibit my own process of understanding through investigation and thus provide opportunities for inquiry and self-evaluation.

Jan 13

Jan 13 David De Lira

Queerness represents the nucleus of my work, my own embodiment, and the subjects of my photographic gaze. My subjects share my body, and I theirs. The physicality and camaraderie between my Self and the Self of my subjects enables a casual intimacy and vulnerability, intended to translate into a shared familiarity with my audience.

My intimate relationships are with those other than myself--with large, older, white bodies that contrast against my youth and my small brown skin. My husband, my friends, and my lovers embody white American masculinity; my brown Mexican body exists within the concentric circles of privilege. Who am I to them? And what are they to me? I have no answer, and I may never. My work interrogates the seams and sutures between my body and theirs.

Austin Quintana

Jan 12

Jan 12 Austin Quintana

Where the Valley Sings combines landscapes and portraits in a series of photographs that explores the lives of my relatives residing in the mountains of Northern New Mexico. The valley my family calls home is named Cañon de Cantor— which translates to the singer's canyon. It is here where my ancestors settled, raised their families, and tended to their crops.

They were known for singing their prayers, and the valley would carry their songs. The children grew old, and generations passed into the next. I was not raised here, but my grandfather was nearby, and he tells me stories of his childhood— exploring the mountains alone, fishing, and dreaming of making this valley his home one day. Decades later, he and my grandmother were able to move onto this land, and now, in his mid 80's, he continues to plod away every day, working to preserve it.

This project is a meditation on the idea of the American dream, or the vestiges of it, and the broader conflict between humans and the natural world when we don't take care of it. The effects of drought and wildfires are ever-present and ravaging the vitality of this area. The land is not fruitful, and tenure through generations is dying. With this body of work, I have strived to create a document of life in the mountains and a deeper personal connection with the land's current ecosystems adapting to changes and trying to survive. www.austinquintana.com

Jan 10

Jan 10 Nikos Priporas

Souvenirs | These photographs, under the title ‘Souvenirs’, describe a highly conservative Greek reality, which claims that the adhesion to an unskilled reproduction of ancient symbols along with the adoption of false mimic images of the Western civilization, add to the self-sufficiency and the prestige that it seems to seek.

Throughout these reconstructions which mime ancient monuments and statues, one can witness the marching of representations of popular emblems, as well as symbols that, due to the recent political developments regarding the name of North Macedonia., became objects of quarrel. In these images, surrounded by square frames and despite their strictness, one can witness the playful, even ironic, mood of the photographer.

The invocation of the past, the oblique westward gaze and the emphasis on the religious element are the triptych, which runs a large part of the disoriented Greek society. The hyperbole in their use, certainly invokes beliefs and arbitrary, often contradictory, adopted identities. Everything fits but nothing matches. This series reaches the lines of political photography as it records and gleans that which long to be, through the use of symbols, the public image of the modern Greek and how he coexists with the public space. It is the image that he, himself constructs by using old and light-reflecting stereotypes which he estimates that they emulate the splendor of a long-gone civilization as a deficiency for the creation of a new one. Aleka Tsironi https://priporasnikos.wixsite.com/nikospriporas

Jan 5

Jan 5 Toi Ramey

A lot of my work that I’ve produced over the past few years have been centered on how identity is established through family. I’ve always captured how I’m influenced by my family, but lately I’ve become heavily entranced by my youngest nephew and the recurring impressions left on him. He is at a stage where his individuality is in flux, and I wanted to explore and document these transitions.

The work speaks on the commonalities of the black experience from one generation to the next. Through the complexities of my past and using my nephew as a conduit, I’m highlighting the parallels of adolescence through portraiture, objects, and familiar spaces. toistoryproductions.mypixieset.com

Jan 4

Jan 4 Midori Morrow

I Never Learned How to Say Goodbye | I Never Learned How to Say Goodbye is a collection of photographic works that consist of emulsion transfers using gel medium that have been transferred onto thin plastic sheets and then melted. By using this process the image is distorted, and the work represents memories and longing of a time past, creating a distinct one-of-a-kind photo object. The uniqueness plays into the understanding of the images and connections to these fleeting memories.

I wanted to create something tangible and delicate that feels like you're holding a piece of the past. For instance, a person laying in a car looking out towards the horizon, the focus is on my best friend and the feeling of pure content. The quality of light and the peacefulness of the moment were captured in this work. These photo objects, as a collective comment on a larger story of personal experiences and human connection. www.midorimorrow.com