Inspired by contemporary photographers like Sally Mann, Jock Sturges, and Nan Goldin, and by contemporary painters like John Currin, Lisa Yuskavage, and Lucien Freud, as well as by many earlier artists, including those from the 19th century, I am interested in depicting the human form in all its stark realism. While in college, I began taking pictures in black and white of people I knew, usually in the intimate setting of their own home, fixating on the personal details of their inner lives as represented by their attire and surroundings.
My next project, which I worked on for nearly a decade (1991-1997), concerned the people who populated the towns along the “Jersey Shore” where I had come of age during the late 1970s and early 1980s. I photographed, again in black and white, these barely clad strangers who reveal something of their personality through their uninhibited gestures and unmannered poses. The figures were generally unaware of my presence as I blended in with the crowds or seemingly focused on the landscape and shot frame after frame abetted by the quiet shutter of the Leica camera I used for this project.
Since concluding the Jersey Shore series, I have continued to photograph the figure, but have resumed photographing people I know, set within their own domestic interiors and, nude. This next body of work built on the long tradition of the nude, while placing the figure in a completely modern context—engaged in domestic rituals, such as bathing, dressing, sleeping and other private moments that take place in the sitter’s home. Consisting of 13 x 19 inch prints in a full range of color, this body of work is achieved by combining digital technology with the vintage process of Gum Bichromate. With this series, I have been intrigued to discover that many of the poses and gestures are reminiscent of the bathers and beach goers from the Jersey Shore series. However, the figures in this work are more collaborators than models or muses, and while seemingly unaware of being photographed, are in fact completely conscious of the camera’s presence. Through this series I aim to reveal the most intimate and private moments of my sitters, thereby further exploring the voyeuristic nature of photography, the act of seeing and of being seen.
The genesis of his fairy tale series featuring Little Red comes from my love of Halloween. Every year, my wife and I dress up and one year, we went as little red riding hood and the big bad wolf. When my wife put on a voluminous red cloak, people reacted and responded to her. I was struck by how visually arresting she was in the red cloak. Although the fairytale project began with the “Little Red” series, I don’t want the photographs to serve as an illustration of the originating stories. For “Little Red,” the idea is not necessarily to illustrate the Grimm fairy tale literally, but to see Little Red as an archetype, and as a figure separate from the Grimm story in the modern world experiencing her journey in contemporary times. The narrative is engrained in popular culture, and this figure is embarking on a journey with an unknown destination. At times Little Red appears to be floating—almost as an apparition or specter. The photographs are about her journey.
The “Rabbit” series came next. The idea for it came from a childhood fear of human-sized rabbits. One version is based on the White Rabbit in Lewis Carroll’s "Alice in Wonderland”—but, like Little Red, the photos of the White Rabbit appear more as an archetype than a literal depiction of the "Alice in Wonderland” story. The other is the Black Rabbit or the Púca—which comes from Celtic Folklore when figure takes the form of hare. These archetype figures exist in realms parallel and tangential to our world. Often, they overlap or cross over into our world and sometimes I have my camera. These photographs document these liminal beings where I find them among us.
My next project, which I worked on for nearly a decade (1991-1997), concerned the people who populated the towns along the “Jersey Shore” where I had come of age during the late 1970s and early 1980s. I photographed, again in black and white, these barely clad strangers who reveal something of their personality through their uninhibited gestures and unmannered poses. The figures were generally unaware of my presence as I blended in with the crowds or seemingly focused on the landscape and shot frame after frame abetted by the quiet shutter of the Leica camera I used for this project.
Since concluding the Jersey Shore series, I have continued to photograph the figure, but have resumed photographing people I know, set within their own domestic interiors and, nude. This next body of work built on the long tradition of the nude, while placing the figure in a completely modern context—engaged in domestic rituals, such as bathing, dressing, sleeping and other private moments that take place in the sitter’s home. Consisting of 13 x 19 inch prints in a full range of color, this body of work is achieved by combining digital technology with the vintage process of Gum Bichromate. With this series, I have been intrigued to discover that many of the poses and gestures are reminiscent of the bathers and beach goers from the Jersey Shore series. However, the figures in this work are more collaborators than models or muses, and while seemingly unaware of being photographed, are in fact completely conscious of the camera’s presence. Through this series I aim to reveal the most intimate and private moments of my sitters, thereby further exploring the voyeuristic nature of photography, the act of seeing and of being seen.
The genesis of his fairy tale series featuring Little Red comes from my love of Halloween. Every year, my wife and I dress up and one year, we went as little red riding hood and the big bad wolf. When my wife put on a voluminous red cloak, people reacted and responded to her. I was struck by how visually arresting she was in the red cloak. Although the fairytale project began with the “Little Red” series, I don’t want the photographs to serve as an illustration of the originating stories. For “Little Red,” the idea is not necessarily to illustrate the Grimm fairy tale literally, but to see Little Red as an archetype, and as a figure separate from the Grimm story in the modern world experiencing her journey in contemporary times. The narrative is engrained in popular culture, and this figure is embarking on a journey with an unknown destination. At times Little Red appears to be floating—almost as an apparition or specter. The photographs are about her journey.
The “Rabbit” series came next. The idea for it came from a childhood fear of human-sized rabbits. One version is based on the White Rabbit in Lewis Carroll’s "Alice in Wonderland”—but, like Little Red, the photos of the White Rabbit appear more as an archetype than a literal depiction of the "Alice in Wonderland” story. The other is the Black Rabbit or the Púca—which comes from Celtic Folklore when figure takes the form of hare. These archetype figures exist in realms parallel and tangential to our world. Often, they overlap or cross over into our world and sometimes I have my camera. These photographs document these liminal beings where I find them among us.
