Julia Hetta, Part II

Further inspiration courtesy of Julia Hetta. Her work is currently on view at the Grundemark Nilsson Gallery in Stockholm, Sweden grundemarknilsson.se

Anyone want to send me a ticket?

Julia Hetta, The Sealed Room, Rodeo Magazine, Fall 2011 

I recently learned her brother, Hannes Hetta, is a stylist, also represented by Art + Commerce. The siblings have collaborated on several editorials.

Julia Hetta, Between the Folds, Dazed and Confused Magazine, March 2016
Styled by Hannes Hetta 

Roaming for A Year

As this is not a Leap Year, I have chosen today to mark the one-year anniversary of the start of my Roaming project. 

Over the last year, I have learned so much about myself as a photographer. I've learned to slow down, even more so than when I was in Greece, I've made an effort to focus more on the composition of my shots - an extra few seconds of set up make so much difference, and I've learned when not to take a photo. The third lesson has been the most important one so far. 

If I'm setting up a shot and I can't see a use for the photo beyond taking up space, if I can't see it posted to my website or my Instagram feed, if it doesn't truly excite me, I walk away. While the lesson doesn't apply to everything - goofing off with my friends or boyfriend, maybe there's a cute dog - it applies strongly to my art. It's another shift in perspective that I wasn't expecting, just like the one that put me on the path to this project.

So what comes next? I'll keep Roaming, searching for scenes that inspire me, and discovering new parts of New York City. 

Christmas at Gantry Plaza

Mum and Dad came down for Christmas again this year and we decided to take everything nice and slow. We have done all the touristy stuff in the past: see the tree at Rockefeller Center, watched people ice skate, walked around Central Park, etc. On Christmas Day, we decided to take the train over to Court Square and walk around down by the water at Gantry Plaza State Park.

The park has been suggested to me a few times since I've lived in Queens but I've never found a reason to make the trek down there. The weather was gorgeous, and I finally got to see what all the fuss is about: striking views of the Manhattan skyline, an architecturally intriguing boardwalk, new construction on Central Boulevard, and the Long Island City ferry port, currently closed for the season.

I haven't been shooting much lately due to the frigid temperatures, but in the fifty-degree weather yesterday, with my iPhone and brand new Instax Wide camera, I was making photos left and right. It felt great to be #roaming again. I've made plans with my friend Dan for next week to go out shooting in the city, but I might suggest we change our locale to the area around Gantry since there's so much more to see.

Chelsea Pathiakis Gantry Plaza Boardwalk, 2016

Julia Hetta

Another photographer whose work I discovered via brief involvement with Art + Commerce is Julia Hetta. Working almost exclusively with natural light and long exposures, I find her work to be highly surreal; in some cases in the style of some Surrealist artists from the 1920s, namely Man Ray and Salvador Dali. Her use of rich, deep tones and occasionally eerie portraiture finds me intensely captivated.

My favorite of her photo sets was published in AnOther Magazine in September of 2015, entitled Cushion Volume Down Constrict. I find this set to be one of the most surreal, and almost haunting. 

Cushion Volume Down Constrict, September 2015

Cushion Volume Down Constrict, September 2015

The last two photographs scream Man Ray and Dali, respectively.

Between gorgeous compositions paired with such striking natural light, if ever I was to go down the path of fashion photography, Julia Hetta's work would top my list of inspirational sources.

Where No One Stands Alone, Another Man, Autumn/Winter 2016

William Abranowicz & Henry Miller

At the beginning of October I was briefly in contact with the artist agency Art + Commerce, which lead to the discovery of a few photographers whose work I've come to deeply admire. I had first been introduced to the agency as a fashion photography intern, doing aesthetic research for upcoming shoots. The agency represents some of the most prolific and renowned image makers of this era, and also holds licenses for the estates of artists who have passed on. Stephen Shore, Patrick Demarchelier, Craig McDean, and Steven Meisel are among the artists with whose work I was already familiar; William Abranowicz had been on my radar since my internship.

My attention was first caught by William Abranowicz's The Greek File as I was fresh from a trip to the mythic land myself, and easily captivated by anything Greece-related. Already galvanized by the work of Herbert List (see earlier posts), I was hit with another wave of inspiration upon seeing another monograph dedicated to the place that changed me, not only as a photographer but as a person.

The Greek File: Santorini, 1991

The Greek File: Santorini, 1998

Abranowicz captures the essence of Greece in much the same way that I attempted when I was there. It's so easy to be caught up by the the things you're supposed to see when visiting a new place, but he made an effort to see past the attractions to the stripped-down core of Greek culture. There are no cliched portraits of monuments.

The beginning of the monograph has a beautifully written introduction by Edmund Keeley, followed by an excerpt from The Colossus of Maroussi by Henry Miller. So enchanted was I by Miller's words, that I found a copy of the book, and have been reading it slowly over the past few weeks. The way he describes his time in Greece, the interactions he had with people, the places he visited, especially the overwhelming sense of peace and calm he experienced upon visiting Epidaurus, has continually brought my own experiences flooding back each time I pick up the book. 

"At Epidaurus, in the stillness, in the great peace that came over me, I heard the heart of the world beat. I know what the cure is: it is to give up, to relinquish, to surrender, so that our little hearts may beat in unison with the great heart of the world."

Autumn & Jaques Henri Lartigue

Summer is officially over today, and I'm feeling nostalgic for autumn in New Hampshire. The leaves begin to change, the air is crisp, and it's time to throw on a light jacket while out apple picking or attending a state fair. Autumn in New York is not quite as picturesque, as the heat lingers too long, and there is significantly less foliage.

The light is different in New Hampshire.

I remember first hearing of Jaques Henri Lartigue in college, probably mentioned during my history of photography class. Not immediately intrigued by his (more famous) black and white photographs, he fell into the great pool of photo knowledge sloshing around in the back of my mind. A few months ago, I picked up Lartigue: Life in Color, and I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the French and Italian countrysides and his varied female companions, and by the quality of light he captured, whether in the dead of winter or the last days of summer.

One pairing of images in particular found me unable to turn the page:

Left: Piozzo, September 1956  /  Right: Florette, Piozzo, September 1956

With autumn creeping in, these two photographs seem incredibly relevant. September light, corn being husked and hung; harvest season.

I'm hoping to a make a trip north in the next month or so to be able to capture some of that golden light myself, before we descend quickly into winter. Why is it that this gorgeous, cozy season seems to pass so much faster than the others? I think I'd be happy living in perpetual fall.

Duane Michals and the State of Photography

The GROUND #05

Duane Michals has been on my radar for some time. I wouldn't call him a direct influence, as my work is neither sequential nor typically in black and white, but there's something about his many small series that instill in me a strange sense of nostalgia. 

Nearly a year ago, I was in Manhattan searching for international fashion magazines for my boss and I came across the fifth volume of a hardcover periodical called The GROUND. Michals' image of Andy Warhol was on the cover, and having personally spent [way too much] time researching and writing about the pop artist in college, I picked up the magazine immediately. Michals was interviewed about his place in the world of photography, and the quote in the image above struck a chord with me:

"Photography will end up being a cul-de-sac unless it expands the definition of what a photograph is."

I read a lot of photography criticism, though mostly written by those who are long dead, in dusty, out of print books, so it was refreshing to hear a living photographer's point of view. And he's absolutely correct; while I do believe that the boundaries of photography are always being pushed, at some point everything will have been attempted and we photographers will need to take a step back and reevaluate what it is we're creating. 

Michals goes on:

"All photography will end up being selfies. Because there is no other dimension than the reflection of the ego. I never understood why. I am having trouble with photography, most photography … as long as photography remains describing exterior events… as long as photography is telling me what I already know, I do not care about it."

In a world saturated by images, thanks to the likes of Instagram, Snapchat, and other social media, it's hard to see the value of a photograph. We're bombarded at every turn with imagery, a sad truth for those of us who spent time and money to be professionally trained in the medium, only to graduate into an industry where a proper degree doesn't seem to matter. In the end, what does it take to stand out?