It's almost a crime that I've lived in the Roaring Fork Valley for more than 35 years and had only taken one history of art lecture at Anderson Ranch Arts Center, which was phenomenal by the way.
PUTTING DOWN THE IPHONE AND PICKING UP AN SLR CAMERA
Last week, I put down my work, silenced my iPhone, picked up my SLR for the first time in over 25 years and immersed myself in an Anderson Ranch class: Documentary Photography: The Total Immersion Approach, taught by New York Times and National Geographic documentary photographer Isadora Kosofsky. The class went into depth about the importance of using our intuition and not only documenting stories but having those stories become part of our being. Inevitably, if one is patient and using all of our senses, we will earn the trust of our subjects, and produce an enriching experience, both for those seeing the pictures and also for we photographers and the subjects we are documenting.
A DOCUMENTARY IMMERSION CLASS WITH ISADORA KOSOFSKY AT ANDERSON RANCH ARTS CENTER
Isadora was only fourteen when she began this journey into photography, documenting individuals in hospice care. At sixteen, she embedded herself inside a youth prison system in Romania. While there she met a young man, and separately, a young girl, both around the same age as her, and thus began her career in documentary photography. Many of the relationships she has formed have lasted over ten years as she documents the progression of their lives,
The subject of the class revolved around her immersive approach to visual storytelling, spending months and years embedded in the lives of the people she shadows. For her, the relationships formed with the subjects are tantamount to the image-making. As portrayed in her Ted Talk.
When I first met Isadora, it was at the introductory dinner with the rest of my classmates. I was in such admiration of her work that I was a bit nervous to meet her, but she radiated warmth, sincerity and a depth of compassion that I had not experienced in a long time.
This depth and passion makes it easy to see how she has become an established photographer with the top publications. Her belief is that the strongest images come from genuine connection rather than simply showing up with a camera, but she also has a love for all of her subjects, and a passion to pick up and move to where they are, when the opportunity arises. My other classmates carried a similar depth with Kardamin Politzer's helping to bring us all closer together. Kardamin is a trans, disabled, and interdisciplinary artist and LGBTQIA+ community leader.
One of our days was spent in the field. I was assigned to Challenge Aspen to document their last day of rehearsals at their Music and Dance Camp, an adaptive arts intensive for individuals with disabilities of all ages. The program encourages self-expression through theater and culminates in a live, original production.
Visiting the Challenge Aspen offices before heading down to document the rehearsal which took place at TACAW, CEO, Lindsay Cagley said something that stuck with me. “People with disabilities are isolated, these campers want to be seen, not hide.”
To be shooting photography on a camera I was just getting reacquainted with in a dark theatre, was a challenge within itself, making the day truly all about everything I had been learning in class and it felt so good to be returning to my own true passion of documentary photography (and film). I went to school for that at Boston University. I let my technical deficiencies not preclude my desire to observe, knowing that the next step would be to switch my brain from analog to digital.
To get closer to the campers and observe the relationship between the campers and their caregivers was the true beauty within the story and to again witness that dichotomy that photographers face of wanting to be unintrusive while also not being afraid to get close in order to tell the story.
For years, I've been documenting this valley almost entirely with my iPhone. It became easy. Efficient. Convenient. But convenience quietly replaced creativity. Holding my Nikon again reminded me why I fell in love with photography in the first place. I found myself getting close, waiting for expressions, watching relationships unfold, and looking for the quiet moments between the obvious ones.
I left Anderson Ranch inspired, challenged, and honestly a little frustrated with myself. Why had I waited so long? Why had I convinced myself that my phone was enough? The answer doesn't really matter anymore. What matters is that I'm back.
One of the greatest gifts of living in this valley is having access to organizations like Anderson Ranch Arts Center, where some of the world's most accomplished artists generously share their knowledge. We often take these opportunities for granted because they're in our backyard, but they're exactly what makes this community so extraordinary. The other gift is having non-profit organizations like ChallengeAspen in our valley, and I want to delve in deeper, and we are all so lucky that I have a platform to share these stories, rather than try to get my photos submitted to prestigious publications … which, if I really become accomplished could be down the road. Until then, I’ll keep practicing and using my creativity for the greater good right here in our valley, and the stories that I tell through my camera will be even stronger because of my experience learning from Isadora..
This is where it begins again, for all of us.
