Below the Surface
A revealing portrait of Wellfleet’s ponds
Water has long been a place where I find peace, healing, strength and meaning. Wellfleet’s kettle ponds are where I go to immerse myself deeply in these things.
Since I began photographing thirty years ago, I have let curiosity guide my work and, when inspiration strikes, and a project feels right, I lose myself in it. Wellfleet’s ponds offered me the opportunity to explore many themes deep in nature, and the journey was a privilege and joy.
I began visiting Wellfleet with my family in 2007 and immediately felt a deep connection with the ponds. Several summers later, with a small waterproof camera in hand, I started photographing myself underwater. What began as a curiosity became an obsession and for many years, over our two-week visits each August, I tried to capture the magic and mystery of these wondrous ponds.
My overall artistic practice is concerned with transformation and, like so much of my work, this project has involved chance and play. Underwater, as plants float, water ripples, sunlight refracts and my body twists and turns, photographing is unpredictable and exciting. It is a dance and the elements often come together to create something revelatory. This body of work is an intimate portrait of the ponds and an exploration of man’s relationship to nature below the surface.
Over an eight-year span, I spent countless hours photographing in Wellfleet’s ponds. I wanted to explore how I fit into this environment. How it transformed me. How I could use this space to create strange and unexpected images. I gravitated toward the perimeters, where the plant life is extraordinary.
Below the water’s surface, I explored how intimately and intricately I could integrate into this habitat and experimented with boundaries of body, nature and self. Where do I end? Where does nature begin? In these ponds, with their aquatic plants, murky sediment and dark depths, I felt a connection to something primal, which I hoped to capture in my work. Plant stems become nerves, blood vessels, cords and entanglements. Some photographs are quiet and peaceful. Others are more enigmatic. All of them are meant to evoke spiritual and psychological associations that I hope speak to each viewer in a personal way.
These photographs offer a unique perspective on underwater landscapes and figurative photography. Having a human presence in each underwater scene can be eye-opening. It adds a complexity to the scene and invites the viewer to imagine how each of us fits into the natural environment rather than stands apart from it. In some of these images, the body is readily apparent. In others, barely at all. But the human presence is always there.
Water, of course, is essential to understanding the work. Water connotes many aspects of the human condition: birth, fertility, renewal and the subconscious, among others. Water evokes a wellspring of emotions, dreams, fantasies and fears. By diving into Wellfleet’s ponds, I tried to delve into and visualize these ideas in a visceral and intuitive way.
Recently, this project has also become a reflection on the state of our natural world and what’s at risk should we lose natural treasures like these glorious ponds. Since I began photographing a decade ago, the flora in some of the ponds has dwindled—particularly over the past three summers. I do not know if this is from “warming” in the ponds; if it’s cyclical and perhaps not related to climate change; or due to some other cause. But symbolically, it speaks volumes to me. The change in the ponds represents what we risk losing on a global scale.
Ultimately, with this project, I attempted to convey a deep sense of mystery. My goal was to reveal the ethereal, dream-like quality of this underwater experience and convey a cohesive sense of place: a mysterious world that inspires the viewer’s imagination.
The photographs in Below the Surface are a selection from a much larger body of work, which includes dozens of additional images.
Eight Months at the Met
Father and baby daughter at the great museum, exploring the galleries of Western art. The child, her first exposure to these masterpieces, inhabits them, transforms them, brings new meaning to them. She becomes one with the paintings--slips into them, alters them, creates new compositions and narratives.
Taking my daughter, Evie, to The Metropolitan Museum of Art week after week was, at its purest and most important level, about priceless time spent together. But it was also about Evie taking in all these paintings for the very first time and then reflecting through me new images.
Exploring the Met's galleries with a needy and unpredictable baby in tow had its challenges, but these were far outweighed by the rewards and pure joy of introducing Evie to art at such a young age. Using the still, two-dimensional paintings (which in a certain sense served as backdrops or sets), the squirmy baby, the gallery lighting, and a host of other variables, I was provided with a unique opportunity to create something new that I hope speaks to the vital relationship between artist and viewer.
These photographs entail a dialogue and interaction between me, my daughter and the paintings--as well as the artists, of course.
*Full image titles*
(All photographs 2006-2007, Archival pigment prints)
1 Evie and The Assumption of the Virgin, Bergognone (Ambrogio di Stefano da Fossano), early 16th century
2 Evie and Flora and Zephyr, Jacopo Amigoni, 1730s
3 Evie and The Calmady Children (Emily, 1818-?1906 and Laura Anne, 1820-1894), Sir Thomas Lawrence, 1823
4 Evie and Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier (1743-1794) and His Wife (Marie-Anne-Pierrette Paulze, 1758-1836), Jacques-Louis David, 1788
5 Evie and The Figure 5 in Gold, Charles Demuth, 1928
6 Evie and The Entombment, Moretto da Brescia (Alessandro Bonvicino), 1554
7 Evie and Vampire, Edward Munch, 1894
8 Evie and The Vocation of Saint Aloysius (Luigi) Gonzaga, Guercino (Giovanni Francesco Barbieri), ca. 1650
9 Evie and Pelvis II, Georgia O'Keeffe, 1944
10 Evie and Skull, Andy Warhol, 1977
11 Evie and Lucas, Chuck Close, 1986-87
12 Evie and Lucas #2, Chuck Close, 1986-87
13 Evie and The Banquet of the Starved, James Ensor, 1915
14 Evie and The Banquet of the Starved #2, James Ensor, 1915
15 Evie and Girl at a Window, Balthus, 1957
16 Evie and The Terrace at Vernonnet, Pierre Bonnard, 1939
17 Evie and The Street, Philip Guston, 1977
18 Evie and Mada Primavesi, Gustav Klimt, 1912
Run, Dogs, Run
These photographs are part of an extensive body of work shot at two New York City dog runs over a nine year period. My intent is to break free of the traditional imagery of "man's best friend" and capture the primal nature of these animals; to step aside from the "sweet and cuddly" domesticated pet and zero in on the wilder side.
In seeking to move beyond our culturally defined conception of dogs (cute puppies in calendars, loyal companions always eager to please), I decided to shoot them during their most instinctive, unselfconscious moments--interacting with their own kind, on their own terms, at the dog run.
With these photographs, I hope to capture the dogs' energy, ferocity and incredible movement on film--qualities that often translate into images of raw animal instinct, essential nature and inner beast.
A revealing portrait of Wellfleet’s ponds
Water has long been a place where I find peace, healing, strength and meaning. Wellfleet’s kettle ponds are where I go to immerse myself deeply in these things.
Since I began photographing thirty years ago, I have let curiosity guide my work and, when inspiration strikes, and a project feels right, I lose myself in it. Wellfleet’s ponds offered me the opportunity to explore many themes deep in nature, and the journey was a privilege and joy.
I began visiting Wellfleet with my family in 2007 and immediately felt a deep connection with the ponds. Several summers later, with a small waterproof camera in hand, I started photographing myself underwater. What began as a curiosity became an obsession and for many years, over our two-week visits each August, I tried to capture the magic and mystery of these wondrous ponds.
My overall artistic practice is concerned with transformation and, like so much of my work, this project has involved chance and play. Underwater, as plants float, water ripples, sunlight refracts and my body twists and turns, photographing is unpredictable and exciting. It is a dance and the elements often come together to create something revelatory. This body of work is an intimate portrait of the ponds and an exploration of man’s relationship to nature below the surface.
Over an eight-year span, I spent countless hours photographing in Wellfleet’s ponds. I wanted to explore how I fit into this environment. How it transformed me. How I could use this space to create strange and unexpected images. I gravitated toward the perimeters, where the plant life is extraordinary.
Below the water’s surface, I explored how intimately and intricately I could integrate into this habitat and experimented with boundaries of body, nature and self. Where do I end? Where does nature begin? In these ponds, with their aquatic plants, murky sediment and dark depths, I felt a connection to something primal, which I hoped to capture in my work. Plant stems become nerves, blood vessels, cords and entanglements. Some photographs are quiet and peaceful. Others are more enigmatic. All of them are meant to evoke spiritual and psychological associations that I hope speak to each viewer in a personal way.
These photographs offer a unique perspective on underwater landscapes and figurative photography. Having a human presence in each underwater scene can be eye-opening. It adds a complexity to the scene and invites the viewer to imagine how each of us fits into the natural environment rather than stands apart from it. In some of these images, the body is readily apparent. In others, barely at all. But the human presence is always there.
Water, of course, is essential to understanding the work. Water connotes many aspects of the human condition: birth, fertility, renewal and the subconscious, among others. Water evokes a wellspring of emotions, dreams, fantasies and fears. By diving into Wellfleet’s ponds, I tried to delve into and visualize these ideas in a visceral and intuitive way.
Recently, this project has also become a reflection on the state of our natural world and what’s at risk should we lose natural treasures like these glorious ponds. Since I began photographing a decade ago, the flora in some of the ponds has dwindled—particularly over the past three summers. I do not know if this is from “warming” in the ponds; if it’s cyclical and perhaps not related to climate change; or due to some other cause. But symbolically, it speaks volumes to me. The change in the ponds represents what we risk losing on a global scale.
Ultimately, with this project, I attempted to convey a deep sense of mystery. My goal was to reveal the ethereal, dream-like quality of this underwater experience and convey a cohesive sense of place: a mysterious world that inspires the viewer’s imagination.
The photographs in Below the Surface are a selection from a much larger body of work, which includes dozens of additional images.
Eight Months at the Met
Father and baby daughter at the great museum, exploring the galleries of Western art. The child, her first exposure to these masterpieces, inhabits them, transforms them, brings new meaning to them. She becomes one with the paintings--slips into them, alters them, creates new compositions and narratives.
Taking my daughter, Evie, to The Metropolitan Museum of Art week after week was, at its purest and most important level, about priceless time spent together. But it was also about Evie taking in all these paintings for the very first time and then reflecting through me new images.
Exploring the Met's galleries with a needy and unpredictable baby in tow had its challenges, but these were far outweighed by the rewards and pure joy of introducing Evie to art at such a young age. Using the still, two-dimensional paintings (which in a certain sense served as backdrops or sets), the squirmy baby, the gallery lighting, and a host of other variables, I was provided with a unique opportunity to create something new that I hope speaks to the vital relationship between artist and viewer.
These photographs entail a dialogue and interaction between me, my daughter and the paintings--as well as the artists, of course.
*Full image titles*
(All photographs 2006-2007, Archival pigment prints)
1 Evie and The Assumption of the Virgin, Bergognone (Ambrogio di Stefano da Fossano), early 16th century
2 Evie and Flora and Zephyr, Jacopo Amigoni, 1730s
3 Evie and The Calmady Children (Emily, 1818-?1906 and Laura Anne, 1820-1894), Sir Thomas Lawrence, 1823
4 Evie and Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier (1743-1794) and His Wife (Marie-Anne-Pierrette Paulze, 1758-1836), Jacques-Louis David, 1788
5 Evie and The Figure 5 in Gold, Charles Demuth, 1928
6 Evie and The Entombment, Moretto da Brescia (Alessandro Bonvicino), 1554
7 Evie and Vampire, Edward Munch, 1894
8 Evie and The Vocation of Saint Aloysius (Luigi) Gonzaga, Guercino (Giovanni Francesco Barbieri), ca. 1650
9 Evie and Pelvis II, Georgia O'Keeffe, 1944
10 Evie and Skull, Andy Warhol, 1977
11 Evie and Lucas, Chuck Close, 1986-87
12 Evie and Lucas #2, Chuck Close, 1986-87
13 Evie and The Banquet of the Starved, James Ensor, 1915
14 Evie and The Banquet of the Starved #2, James Ensor, 1915
15 Evie and Girl at a Window, Balthus, 1957
16 Evie and The Terrace at Vernonnet, Pierre Bonnard, 1939
17 Evie and The Street, Philip Guston, 1977
18 Evie and Mada Primavesi, Gustav Klimt, 1912
Run, Dogs, Run
These photographs are part of an extensive body of work shot at two New York City dog runs over a nine year period. My intent is to break free of the traditional imagery of "man's best friend" and capture the primal nature of these animals; to step aside from the "sweet and cuddly" domesticated pet and zero in on the wilder side.
In seeking to move beyond our culturally defined conception of dogs (cute puppies in calendars, loyal companions always eager to please), I decided to shoot them during their most instinctive, unselfconscious moments--interacting with their own kind, on their own terms, at the dog run.
With these photographs, I hope to capture the dogs' energy, ferocity and incredible movement on film--qualities that often translate into images of raw animal instinct, essential nature and inner beast.
