The Hot Air Jubilee is one of Jackson’s big annual events. Photos of hot air balloons are all over the Chamber of Commerce’s promotional materials, and for good reason: thousands of people head to Ella Sharp Park each July to watch the liftoffs.
For me, it never gets old. There’s magic in these giant sacks of hot air slowly inflating, and then leaving the ground, heading to Oz – or the outskirts of the county. It’s not just the balloons, either. The Hot Air Jubilee is like a small county fair, with junk food and rides and games of chance.
Tons of local photographers fight for the chance to get inside the launch grounds. I’ve been there, but it’s just as fun to sit on the sidelines and watch the show as a spectator.
Maybe it’s waking up out of winter, or maybe it’s just a little more sunshine affecting my brain – but I recently splurged on some photography gear.
This year, to kick off my project, I treated myself to a new camera strap from Gordy’s. It’s not going to make my photos better, and it’s not one of those $100 artisan leather products that get all the reviews. It’s a simple leather strap that holds my Canonet around my neck. And it’s dark brown, with red and burgundy accents.
It’s half fashion, half pragmatism. My old strap was a simple nylon affair, thin and unassuming. It did the job, sure, but not well, and it wouldn’t win any beauty contests. With this new leather strap, at least I feel like human beings made it with attention and care.
I also have this thing where all my camera straps need to be brown. Whatever.
Gordy’s does this nice thing where they feature photographers’ cameras on their photo gallery. A nice way to show off gear, and their product. They have a great Instagram account, too.
I first learned about Barry Phipps’s Iowa photos project on Feature Shoot, and, as a fellow Midwesterner, could hardly contain my excitement – it’s my kind of project, full of story and place and changes.
Where are you and what do you do?
I’m in Iowa City, IA. Moved here four years ago from Chicago, where I lived for 22 years. I’m a working photographer and artist.
How did you get started in photography?
I studied photography at The Kansas City Art Institute in the late eighties. I’m old, so we were taught how to shoot, develop, and print film.
What do you like about your photography?
I’m very hard on myself, so it’s hard sometimes to say I like my own photography. That said, I enjoy a means of communication that isn’t blatantly about me. It’s more impersonal and less directly emotive than, say, making music. I’m a former musician who finds it gut wrenchingly difficult to listen to a song I’ve recorded and released where I’m singing, but have no problem digging through old photographs and finding enjoyment doing so.
You cover weddings and portraits along with your Iowa series. Where do you get inspiration for your style/ideas?
I enjoy weddings and portrait work. I still shoot film and approach it in the same way as my Iowa Photographs series, and tend to work for artists, photographers, writers and the like. I don’t really look much at other wedding photographers for inspiration. My studio portrait work isn’t really influenced by other work. I’m inspired by Richard Avedon and kind of jealous of Terry Richardson. I like looking through Vanity Fair and those types of magazines as I’m waiting to get my hair cut. I’d love to do fashion stuff, but not going out of my way to make that happen. I do live in Iowa, after all.
I like that your photos, especially your Iowa series, have a sense of place and purpose. What kinds of themes do you explore with your work?
Thanks! Actually, I feel the Iowa Photographs series gave my photography a sense of purpose, focus, and direction. I photographed lots in Chicago, but moving to Iowa four years ago really gave me a sense of direction. I’m really drawn to this place. I initially just started taking day trips in every direction from Iowa City, just to see what was out there. It was exciting to be in a new place. I assumed I would live in Chicago for the rest of my life. Chicago can be a challenging place to leave. You can drive for two hours and still be in the city sometimes. Here, it’s liberating to be able to just get in my car and drive in any direction and be somewhere new in just a few minutes. Iowa is populated with a million small towns, most never more than six or seven miles from the last one. Iowa was mostly populated within a few years, mostly by European immigrants. So, these towns formed, thrived, peaked and later declined as the original purpose of servicing farming families dried up. There’s a consistency town to town, but also a uniqueness. I’m always surprised by what I find.
Any upcoming projects or shoots you’re working on?
The Iowa Photographs series will continue, but I have wrapped up my initial phase of the project. I’ve photographed every county in Iowa and have accumulated what I consider a fair representation of the state of the state. I’m currently putting a book together of the best stuff from this phase. It will be published by The University of Iowa Press around 2019.
Last weekend, we saw a lot of photos of people taking up the fight. This weekend, too (side note: is this the new normal?).
I have a feeling that what moves us more than those big crowd shots of people marching down avenues are the photos of individuals who are affected by government mood swings. When I’m faced with a group of women from Flint, Michigan, representing the tragedy of their situation on a national stage, it brings the whole big affair home.
If you make stuff – write, photograph, film, dance – now’s your chance to feature those individuals. Tell their stories. Express their fears. Make their voice heard. Do more than take crowd shots. Take on City Hall.
It’s easy to ignore a “Photoshopped” crowd shot of protestors. But it’s harder to dismiss our neighbors (or refugees) face-to-face.
One of the benefits of listening to On Taking Pictures is interacting with the talented community that’s built up in support of the podcast. That’s how I found out about Nick Bedford’s work. Nick is an example of my kind of photographer: he does a bit of everything, and does it well.
Who are you and what do you do?
My name’s Nick Bedford and I’m a semi-professional portrait photographer from Brisbane, Australia.
How did you get started in photography?
In the middle of 2010, I borrowed my friend’s Canon 450D and played around with it and had to get my own, much to the lament of my friends and family who were subjected to my (at the time) very bad photos.
What do you like about your photography?
This is an interesting question. I’ve come to prefer making photographs that tell a story of a time or about a person, so it’s somewhat that story-telling aspect as well as the lighting, which is one of the first things I think about.
I guess the other thing I like is that it doesn’t stick to one type of photography and showcases a (hopefully) consistent vision across many wildly differing genres.
Your work focuses on everything from musicians to one-on-one portraits, plus landscapes and street photography. Where do you get inspiration for your style/ideas?
These days I get a lot of inspiration from Instagram. It’s so easy to find masses of great and inspiring work there. I’ve never tried to shoe-horn myself into any specific genre. I like to think of myself as simply a photographer with a certain way of seeing the world and that manifests in the way I shoot street or portraits or landscapes. I’ve even shot some music videos and I found that I have a love for directing, so I think at the root of my photography is a desire to portray “story” in whatever way that is.
I love lighting and almost every genre I’ve tried requires lighting to add drama and interest to the other aspects of the photo. Street photography is a relatively new thing for me, only from the last few years, but I love doing it. It keeps you on your toes and makes you better at “seeing” quickly, especially when you’re using a manual focus rangefinder where there’s no depth of field preview.
My favourite tool is the Leica M with a 35mm lens and I’ve made a lot of photographs in that perspective, from street to landscapes.
Your Faces project is a lot of fun. What’s the idea behind it?
In 2014, my housemate moved out and took a couch he had in the lounge room which opened up some free space, so I decided to set up a little studio there. I then thought of getting friends around to shoot and after the first session, I decided it would be a “a catch up and a single selected portrait” kind of affair.
We spend an hour or so catching up and having fun shooting some portraits then we import them and run through the images to find one that we both love the most. It’s a slow burn kind of project in that I don’t put any pressure on myself to shoot X portraits a month for it, just whenever someone is up for a portrait and chats, we shoot! As of 19th Jan ’17 I’m up to 19 faces.
Any upcoming projects or shoots you’re working on?
In the end of 2016, I made the decision to go semi-professional (finally) in my portrait work, focusing on those specific genres of traditional and editorial portraits and head shots, so I’ve been working on building more of my new portfolio work as well as shooting a few clients in the first month of the new year. It’s been great and I’m really excited to see where it leads. I struggled to accept the idea of being a professional, with all the business stuff that comes with it, and it took me 6 and a half years to finally say, “I’ve gotta do it.”
In fairness, this idea stems from the success I had with an email newsletter to announce and promote my Artists In Jackson project. I simply took that list and said to everyone “You’re either with me, or unsubscribe now!”
Turns out, most of them stuck around.
What will my email newsletter contain? Various bits of material from this blog, interesting photography I find, arts and culture going on in my community, and updates on my latest projects – specifically, the big portrait projects. It will be an experiment, but as I think about using things like Facebook less and less, an email newsletter could be my way to keep my friends, family, and followers in the know. Bi-weekly to monthly, depending on what I have going on.
Ben Brooks has some valid skepticism over original content on email newsletters. I’m going to think a lot about what he wrote. Part of me feels like you can have a different kind of fun on an email newsletter, to keep it special.
Mostly it’ll be a testing platform to see what I can do with it. Join me for the ride.
For me, it’s all books and learning and research and art. If I have a life made up of some combination of those things, along with working with talented students to make things, then I’m satisfied. It’s not like I’m saving the world, but I am, in an indirect way, helping to make it a better place.
High education has been my calling since I was in college. I knew then what I wanted to do, and here I am doing it.
As I took a walk around the University of Michigan’s campus yesterday afternoon—sky heavy with rain clouds, early autumn leaves falling, EarthFest fair going on in the Diag, students heading to class—it hit me, as it always does, that I’m working my dream job. I value education, I value the search for truth, and so to lend my expertise to that effort makes me feel like I’m in the right place.
There’s something noble about being the “ornery artist.” The one who switches it up when he or she shouldn’t. The one who you can’t pin down. The one who avoids fame and publicity.
As I walked around the Ann Arbor Art Fair on Thursday, especially looking at the photography booths, I couldn’t help but notice how similar they all were: landscapes, sunsets, flowers, bodies of water, animals, HDR (blah!).
Art fair artists are there to sell things, I get it. It’s hard to be ornery and sell in mass quantities.
Working on personal projects is something I still try to do, it’s very important to me. I also believe it plays an important part in developing your own style, staying creatively motivated, exploring new ideas and learning new things…I try hard to produce personal projects fairly regularly, even when I’m busy with actual work. I try to produce and post something usually once or twice a week.
GIF artist Al Boardman talks about personal projects in a way a lot of artists do: It’s important to do the fun stuff and the paid stuff.
The paid stuff keeps the lights on, but the personal stuff keeps you, you.
And it’s usually the personal work that makes people sit up, take notice, and ask if you’re for hire.
