I am fortunate and
honored to have received Professional Development Grants
from United Arts of Central Florida, in each of the
years 2003, 2006 and 2009. Each of these grants allowed
me to travel for two weeks in different locations
throughout the South. The photographs in this exhibition
reflect work from each of the trips. I owe much
gratitude to United Arts of Central Florida who through
the years have been a great support to my life as a
photographer.
The photographs on display are part of a much larger
body of work of social landscapes exploring the history
and culture of the Southeastern United States.
Along with this interest in history and culture, I also
have a longing for travel.
Much like John Steinbeck, who in his book, Travels with
Charley, wished to understand himself better by better
understanding his home country, I also want to
understand myself by traveling the region which I most
identify with. As was typical with the way that I would
normally find my subjects, during these three trips I
would get in my van and randomly drive the back roads.
While my travels are not totally unplanned there is a
serendipitous quality of how I find my subject matter.
I have at my side a DeLorme Atlas that shows me a
detailed map of the area that I am traveling. Over the
years I have developed a six sense of where to have the
best chance of finding my subjects by looking at those
maps.
Acknowledgements:
It is with much gratitude that I recognize the support
of several people and organizations that made these
three trips possible. First and foremost, I wish to
thank United Arts of Central Florida for the kindness
and support that I received through the three
Professional Development Grants. The support of Trudy
Wild and Mary Patrick Giraulo of United Arts went way
beyond the finical support that I applied for. I also
would like to thank Peter Schreyer and Crealde School of
Art for allowing me to take time from my duties at
Crealde to pursue these three grant projects. Many
thanks goes to Jon Manchester who road shotgun with me
on the 2006 trip to Mississippi.
2003, North Florida:
In the spring of 2003 I traveled to the Panhandle region
of the State of Florida. I had made a few trips before
this one, but I would take the opportunity to travel
further west and south than I had in past trips. I
especially wanted to see Baker Florida, one of the towns
that Farm Security Administration, (FSA) photographer,
John Collier, made images of back in the 1930s.
Baker was not that much different of a town in 2003 as
it had been in 1936 when Collier was there. The
buildings had changed, including the little store that
had the Jazz Feed sign painted on its exterior wall, but
the town was still a little crossroads town. A post
office, a grocery, and a hardware store are pretty much
what made up downtown Baker.
I had parked at the grocery store to look at the main
crossroads in town, the one that I think Collier
photographed 70 years before. The name of the roads
changed, but it seemed to have the feel of the place
where he once stood. Yet, I left without making an
updated photograph as there were no physical reminders
of the 1930s. It was then, when I walked back to the car
I saw Jazz Feed painted on the wall that I thought about
making a photograph of it.
North of Baker, back in among the pine forest is
Escambia Farms, which was an old FSA project. John
Collier also photographed there, but not much was left
that I could find. Along the back roads that I wandered
that day was a sign saying U-Pick. The sign was on a
ridge along the side of the road and was several feet
above the pavement. I never saw the farm that the sign
was advertising, but I am sure that it was well known to
the locals who might of helped out to harvest
strawberries, and vegetables.
Most of the work was done north of the Interstate 10,
but I did spend a few days driving more along the coast.
The Gulf of Mexico gives way after just a few miles to
the piney woods that make up most of the region. Driving
through the wooded areas of North Florida below the
interstate is where I found the cross stenciled on a
tree. It has long been my feeling that when
photographing a sign it needs to be placed in a context
so that the photograph is not just the sign. The cross
on the tree made its own statement, not to be cluttered
by the surrounding landscape. That is why I arranged for
the cross to be in focus and the background to be
blurred, allowing the expression of faith to stand on
its own.
2006, Mississippi and
Arkansas:
When I applied for the 2006 grant to photograph in
Mississippi I was asked by the panel if I was going to
photograph the aftermath of Katrina. I said no, that I
was interested in more of aspects of indigenous culture
rather than a transient culture due to an event. So it
was my plan to go to the Delta Region, far away from the
effects of the 2004 hurricane.
What I found was a
landscape of vast distances with islands where a
population gathered. These islands were places like
Clarksdale, Rosedale, Friar Point and Greenwood,
Mississippi. To some extent the towns seemed sparsely
populated as well, a shadow of its former self.
The bustling blues clubs
that Library of Congress researcher Alan Lomax saw in
the 1940s are now decaying and soon to be torn down or
to fall down. I noticed that there were a lot of
churches near where the old clubs were and I asked a man
who stopped to see what I was up to, if the churches
were built there to remind the people who came to the
clubs on Saturday night where they should be on Sunday
morning. He said, “No, those who went to the clubs did
not go to church, though they were welcome.
All the people that I met in Mississippi were very
friendly. Many people asked me what I was doing, but
none of them were accusatory, more curious. While on
that trip I made a point to visit the people at the
Center for the Study of Southern Culture, at the
University of Mississippi, the result of which was an
exhibition at the Center’s gallery in 2007.
2009, Louisiana and Mississippi
I got up early on May 15th 2009 for the twelve-hour
drive to Slidell, Louisiana. It was an easy drive except
for some rain in Mobile Alabama. Unlike what I like to
do I took the Interstate all the way. That day was for
making miles, not for seeing the landscape.
While I got into the hotel fairly early, I woke up the
next morning not really sure where I was. Getting my
bearings, I headed out for what was the first days
travel. Thinking about it now, I am not sure how I
covered so much ground that first day, finding my way to
areas a little west of Slidell and then traveling north
and east to Bogalusa and then turning west again ending
the day in Port Alan, just across the Mississippi River
from Baton Rouge. Most of the rest of the 16 days that I
spent on the road was spent heading this way, and that
way, following the instincts that I have developed over
30 years of wandering the back roads of the South.
As promised when I was approved for the United Arts
Professional Development Grant, each day I kept a blog
of my travels. In retrospect, my writing was not of the
best quality, but the many friends and students who
followed along with me were kind enough not to notice.
Not really being use to hotel beds, I would get up each
morning around 4:00am and spend a little time writing
about where I was going to go or something I thought
about where I had been. At least once during the day I
would stop for about an hour to have a bite to eat and
to write about what happened that morning. At the end of
the day, tired from driving I would unwind by writing
about the day’s happenings.
What I started as a means of giving back to the Central
Florida community for giving me the grant also served to
exorcize feelings and ideas below the surface that
allowed me to see so much more in the subjects that I
was attracted to. The writing became cathartic.
In some ways, traveling along the River Road was like a
time machine that reminded me of both the good and the
bad of the area’s heritage. As I traveled up the center
of the state the landscape was rich, but the cities
seemed poor. Hard times seem to have hit Alexandria.
After spending time in Shreveport and Monroe, I crossed
the Mississippi for the last time on this trip to
Vicksburg Mississippi. The Gibraltar of the South,
Lincoln called it, the city seemed trapped by the very
land that was supposed to protect it in 1863.
While I was on the road for three more days and
photographed some in Mississippi and Alabama, the
Louisiana portion of the trip was done. I have yet to
fully sort out some of my feelings about the trip, but I
do know that it was a wonderful experience.
