Larry McNeil, Artist, Scholar and Photographer

New McNeil Blog Site

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Thu, 05 Aug 2010 17:11:00 +0000

Blogosphere Update: Why I switched to WordPress

This switch is mostly about protecting our livelihoods as creative people. Today I went public with my new blog site. Please add this new address as my blog site:

http://blog.larrymcneil.com

It was made by our friends at liveBooks and as usual, they did a spectacular job. I really love how it mirrors my website with the basic design elements so that it's more obviously linked to my main website.

My number one reason for changing from google's Blogspot to WordPress is that google claims ownership of your blog content. There is something fundamentally wrong with this, and I've been meaning to make the switch for a couple of years but just never got around to it. Blogspot has a lot of excellent features, but so does WordPress, and the latter is not heavy-handed with any claims of owning your content. I made a point of copyrighting all of my written materials on Blogger, and especially any images. Hey, we're artists right? We need to protect our livelihoods along the way.

Blogspot was really great and I liked just about all of their features, including being able to customize templates and generally being able to set up the page to how you want it to look.

At any rate, please add the above new link!

Thanks,

Larry

The Immigrants in our Blood (& the Rollei)

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Sat, 17 Jul 2010 02:13:00 +0000

As much as anything else, this is about a German immigrant with the last name of Spurgeon, a bona fide wild-assed character who thrived in the utter insanity of the Klondike Gold rush in the late 1890's. A sense of lawlessness dominated that particular time and place, and gold fever was just as much a cultural reality as a state of mind. Take my word, there is a reason it was called gold fever; people were out of their right minds and things like logic, lucidity and something as basic as a sense of right and wrong were all irremediably blurred beyond recognition. Very little had a plain black and white clarity. It was every duck for themselves as they say, and the ones with the most intact wits generally won the day.

The timing for this insanity couldn't have been more perfect for our protagonist, Mr. Spurgeon. His natural traits fit this scenario perfectly and he was the proverbial fish in water and he blossomed accordingly. How he met Susie Spurgeon, our Great-grandmother, married her and had children is a mystery lost in time. She was the polar opposite of him; someone who represented logical thought and clear moral standing. I'd love to have heard one of their typical morning conversations.

Saying Spurgeon was the black sheep of our family would be putting it mildly. My Great-grandfather did a lot of things that are also lost in time, and there are only fuzzy stories here and there about his exploits, many of which fit the lunacy of the gold rush. A colossal rift shattered our family the last time he was seen alive by any of them. Let's just say when the gold dust cleared, all of his children took other last names and the Spurgeon name is nowhere to be found in our family tree, save for one humble entry in the late 1800's. It was as though by getting rid of his name, we could get rid of him. Guess what? He's still there, tenaciously hanging on to that one branch of the family tree. With a silly expression and cigar in the corner of his mouth, but hanging on, nonetheless.

At any rate, over a cold beer on a hot, hot day in Northern California back in the 1970's, our uncle Judson Brown burst out laughing while telling me part of the story of his journey to Germany in search of our mysterious Spurgeon family roots. It was infectious. He had a German Rollei SL66 camera system spread out in front of him on the table, and was showing me the finer details of how to use it and before we knew it, he was literally roaring with laughter; you see, Judson had a booming voice, and an even more booming laughter. It was interesting that Judson was unfolding this family history while talking about the Rollei and trip to Germany; it inferred that history, place and objects were intertwined in some manner and it was up to us to figure out what it meant.

I think Uncle Judson may have gotten this Rollei SL66 camera system from his trip to Germany. Maybe not. It's a real beauty, regardless. He was in Germany over 40 years ago looking for relatives, which was a bit ironic, given that he was one of our honored Tlingit elders, a Chief, intellectual leader, commercial fisherman, and so on.

Judson Lawrence Brown (I have his middle name)

I made a print from this story, titled Great-grandparents. There was only one original segment of a photo of Great-grandpa. Someone cut up the antique photo; I can't imagine why (facetious voice inflection here). It appears to be an albumen print from a large format glass plate negative, professionally made. Part of the photo has a rough gash along the side, and I can just imagine someone ripping it up in a state of exasperation. This portion of the photograph was given to a family friend; I don't think that anyone in the family even wanted the segment of the photo to be near them, let alone in their possession.

The thing that saved the torn photo from certain eradication was that our great-grandma was also in the photo. I think that it is notable that one of the base meanings of the word eradication means to pull up by the roots, which couldn't describe the scenario more precisely, both literally and metaphorically.

Great-grandparents, Digital Print, by McNeil

Someone cut a mask and taped it over the photo so that they wouldn't have to see Great-grandpa. Judson went to his desk and pulled this original photographic remnant out and flicked it across the table with a hint of a sly grin.

It's kind of funny that this story is intertwined with the camera. This bent story kind of transforms this camera into a de facto stand-in for something. I'm not sure what, but it seemed to represent something more than a camera, and I really liked it that Judson was able to laugh about it; I think that perhaps it may explain a part of why many relatives were so rambunctious. Maybe not, who knows? I think Judson was searching for remnants of Spurgeon in Germany because he wanted to know too. We're all looking for answers about our own identity, sometimes going on life-long journeys that take us to the other side of the world.

When Judson passed on, my brother Chris asked me if I wanted this fine camera, since I was one of the photographers in the family. I told him that perhaps it should go to Da-ka-xeen, our nephew, because I already had a Hasselblad system. Years later, I asked Da-ka-xeen if I could trade anything for the Rollei system. I'd sold my Hasselblad and needed another medium format system. I used it for a few years, mostly photographing desert scenes to use as a background for my Tonto series.

Da-ka-xeen is a wonderful artist teaching at the University of Alaska in Fairbanks and is making a name for himself in the art world. He made a series of works, including this one titled Reflections, where he placed himself in various Tlingit tableaus, or scenes.

Reflections, by Da-ka-xeen Mehner

Da-ka-xeen with the Rollei

It did my heart well to see this print by Da-ka-xeen, not only because of it's content, but if you look closely, you'll see that he's holding the Rolleiflex in his right hand! I almost feel like naming this camera the Uncle/Nephew Dakl'aweidei Kéet Gooshi Hít (Killer Whale Fin House) camera. This Rollei is going to a second generation Kéet nephew, and yes, it does have Tlingit strings attached.

It has a 40mm Carl Zeiss Distagon lens that is nothing less than phenomenal. It is the equivalent of using a 26mm lens on a 35mm camera body, which has an approximate 88˚ angle of view. What is really cool is that it is so distortion free, no distorting lines in the scene like with most wide-angle lenses. Even the legendary pro Canon L lenses have a touch of barrel distortion at this width. This was a lens made by German craftsmen to impeccable tolerances, and the venerable Distagons are still sold to photographic connoisseurs for their high-end digital SLR bodies.

Photograph of Larry by T'naa McNeil

This 40mm Distagon is my all-time favorite lens for medium format cameras, and I'm going to miss it a lot. I got the photos I wanted and am sending the system back to Da-ka-xeen. Damn that glass is good. This film camera earned its place in the digital world by way of producing superb negatives that scan beautifully, rendering prints of impeccable quality.

The classic array of prime lenses: normal, wide & short telephoto

I think it's cool that this Rolleiflex SL66 is a German camera system. For some reason, I feel that perhaps some of our family blood is swimming around in there somewhere. Judson didn't explain everything, and left something akin to a Cheshire cat grin for us to try and figure out.

Have fun with the camera again, Da-ka-xeen. I shipped it this morning.

Newspaper Profile about Da-ka-xeen Mehner

Rolleiflex SL66 Site

Jim Pepper and ‘Squaw Song’

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Fri, 09 Jul 2010 22:28:00 +0000

Jim Pepper with Ponca dancers in Germany

Photo from the Oregon Historical Quarterly site

It is possible to be beautiful beyond words.

When an artist uses words in a song all of a sudden you add poetry, emotion, humor and whatever else it is that makes that performer or artist unique in the universe. You get the spark of life igniting the words, especially from someone like Pepper who established his own 'one of a kind' presence in the world of jazz and art.

I mention this only because Jim Pepper reached that rarefied height where the air was thin and other birds could only dream of flying; listen to his Squaw Song and if you close your eyes and let yourself soar, you can sometimes join him. I’m sure that this makes him smile.

But first, a couple of facts about the controversial use of the term 'Squaw.'

The term ‘squaw’ is derogatory, plain and simple. Jim used the name ‘Squaw Song’ because it was in use at powwows, kind of like Ndn slang. It is most certainly not for people outside the cultures of the Native Nations to use.

Don’t use the term ‘squaw’ unless you want to get seriously hammered by the most powerful force in all of Indian Country: Indigenous Women. This is just a fair warning to those inclined to argue for its use. If you want to live another day, stand up straight and address the women by their proper names. Here in Idaho a number of years ago, certain backwoods ignorant state legislators argued in favor of keeping the name 'Squaw' on certain maps. It caused a rift in the community because the legislators refused to acknowledge that it was a racist term. Their arguments only served to illuminate their willful bigotry; they refused to listen to the facts of why it is a racist term.

Anyway, back to Pepper's exquisite song. To be included in one of our traditional ceremonies it means you have earned a special status for yourself, and the people offer a heartfelt acknowledgement of your deeds. Sometimes it means you have earned a name, or are there to honor a soul going into the forest as they say. The act of naming is what is significant and cherished here, and is a critical part of just about all of our traditional ceremonies. It is critical because the act of naming allows that person or people to live on and be present, no matter what.

Ceremony is everything.

Many ceremonies occur to honor someone, or even a group of people. Honor is everything; it is carried with love, strength and an intellectual beauty that is above all else, because to give is one of the most cherished acts that we can do for one another. To give honor is sometimes all we have left when everything else is stripped away.

Pepper knew all this because he was an indigenous man living in what was often the stark brutality of what the 20^th Century had to offer the indigenous people of the Americas. So many of our people did not survive. Did not survive. You can hear this between his lines, sweet and bluesy, because many of us did survive. And play. And assert ourselves when everything else was indeed stripped away.

I am honoring you, Jim Pepper. With your Squaw Song you formally named many Native Nations, honoring them specifically, in a timeless manner of our ancestors. I am writing this because whenever I feel empty and drained from this life, I play your Squaw Song on a loop in the background while I’m trying to fix whatever is was that got messed up. It especially gives me strength when you call Tlingits along with so many other Nations.

Our elders believed that if you say a prayer, it just falls to the ground, like a sorry lump of uselessness, silent and invisible to the cosmos. However, if you sing it with your heart, the creator can hear it.

Sometimes I do find myself singing it right along with him. It is almost ceremonial in itself, like an informal ritual that anyone can perform on the sidewalk while you’re pedaling your bike, outside the brick institutions, on the plane, by the river, on the mountaintop. Everywhere.

As a young man, I was inspired by Pepper's songs and had his albums on cassette tapes, the iPods of the day. While strategizing for new work in 2007 I kept finding myself drawn to how Pepper sang out each Native Nation with his song, and used it for inspiration in my lithograph First Light, Winter Solstice. I wanted to name as many Native Nations as I could and include them on the print, Vis-à-vis Jim's song.

I suspect that many discographies and other sources of information about Jim Pepper have this song in particular edited out of their references because of the controversial nature of the term Squaw. One of the links on YouTube even renamed it Square Song, something I'm sure Pepper would have found completely ridiculous. Get over it, because this is one of his best songs, and we cannot honor his memory by pretending it does not exist. It is one of my own all-time favorites, not only of his, but all songs in the universe, especially the version from his Comin' and Goin' album with Don Cherry and others. As a side note, I think it's very synchronistic that he recorded part of this album on my birthday in 1983; what a gift!

So there.

Upstream Productions Link Sandra Johnson Osawa (Makah Tribe) and Yasu Osawa. They made the film "Pepper's Pow Wow," which was also broadcast on PBS. Sandra and Yasu are an amazing filmmaking team; I just this moment purchased this DVD from their site (I keep giving my previous copies away as a special gift). It's a great deal, check it out.

Gunalsheésh Sandra and Yasu, this video is superb and am so thankful that you made it while he was still alive and captured his voice and personality, along with his music, of course.

The Mystery of the Felix Bonfils Glass Plate Negatives

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 21:27:00 +0000

Felix Bonfils Glass Plate Negatives

From the Larry McNeil Collection

Felix Bonfils Negative #1

22.8 x 28 cm. or 9 x 11 inches

Introduction

This is an historical accounting of the Felix Bonfils negatives that also involves pivotal moments the history of photography. There may be some new research on Felix Bonfils unearthed here. It involves pointed questions as to what was going on from a cultural perspective, specifically with the notion of "Ethnographic Photography," in addition to the more objective information, so there are scholarly questions for further reseach mixed into the various presented scenarios. In the end, hopefully it unfolds an element of humanity about Bonfils that is sometimes absent from other research and it becomes even more evident that he was a brilliant photographer, regardless of when he lived.

I would put forth the notion that being able to study these Bonfils negatives offered a rarefied opportunity to gain insight that could not have been obtained any other way. Conservators were able to gather objective, scientifically sound information, which answered key questions, but also led the way to more questions for further research. I think that my status as a Professor of Photography brings a unique element to the research too, because I am able to ask questions that perhaps other photography historians overlooked. Such as, “What do specific photographic techniques such as negative contrast have to do with the visual aesthetics of Bonfils’ photography?” This is discussed near the end of the essay.

The story of the mystery of these Felix Bonfils negatives is also about a key transformational moment in the history of photography with what Bonfils was doing at that time. Who is the mystery person that Felix Bonfils, Ansel Adams and I have in common? Who would have guessed that I'd have ended up with the only original Felix Bonfils negatives in existence today? As far as other scholars and I know, anyway; if you know of any others, please let me know.

Link to Portfolio of Bonfils Negatives

(The website has a function where you can view the

negative, push the "next arrow" and see how it looks in positive form.)

Felix Bonfils

Part One

Fist and foremost, I am writing this from the point of view of a fellow photographer who has a sincere appreciation and admiration for Bonfils' high level of expertise and tenacity for sticking with photography and helping it to evolve in a unique era. Bonfils was a photographer when it was slow, meticulous work to make just one negative, let alone thousands of them, including the albumen prints that made his livelihood possible.

Bonfils had to have a fairly sizable darkroom production facility, especially for the thousands of albumen prints that were made by his studio over the years. Making albumen prints was technically easier than making the collodion wet plate negatives, but the sheer volume likely necessitated a staff of lab assistants who were very knowledgeable with the process and could do the production work efficiently. I'm not going to describe the albumen process here, but can direct you to another website that is able to quantify it exceptionally well.

The Albumen Conservation Site

I would challenge any professional photographer today to try and make a wet plate collodion negative. It is an exceptionally sophisticated process that involved handling delicate materials in a complex manner. If any one step along the way had the minutest part of the formula wrong, the negative would not work. Not only that, but it would be challenging to make one in a controlled laboratory environment, let alone in the back of a dusty, hot wagon in the middle of a desert.

The Getty has an excellent video that describes the

Collodion Wet Plate Negative process

Getty Link

Bonfils was a Frenchman who moved to the Middle East with his family in the 19th Century to set up a photography studio. He was a very prolific photographer who specialized in exotic views of the Middle East. He made thousands of photographs at places like Egypt, Lebanon and Israel (Palestine or 'The Holy Land'). There was a fascination for capturing photographs of the region, because many of the places still looked remarkably like they did a thousand years in the past. Time seems to have stood still. Immediately following this period, the region started to change, especially at the start of the 20th Century. Bonfils and other photographers of the era knew that they had a unique opportunity to capture the look of the Middle East just before it changed forever.

The driving force with this major transformation happened with the humble negative. It was the negative that revolutionized and changed photography so that it became more universal and democratic; a social equality with the use of photography came forth...

Bonfils was a European colonialist photographer who brought Western ideals and philosophies to his work. He had preconceived notions of how what is now Israel was defined, and he sought out to fulfill those notions with the visual aesthetics in his photography. It is notable that these Bonfils negatives were made in what is currently one of the most controversial and contentious places on Earth with what is unfolding between Israel and the surrounding Arab countries.

Many of his contemporaries were looking for what defined “The Holy Land,” and it strongly appears that Bonfils went out of his way to make visual representations of places mentioned in the bible. His passion appeared to be more with place than people; the vast majority of his existing photographic archive of the Holy Land consists primarily of ancient villages, ruins, buildings, countrysides, orchards, churches, historical places and people in what appears to be traditional dress doing mundane everyday activities like herding cattle or grinding grain.

The Bonfils studio also made a significant part of their livelihood as a portrait studio in Lebanon, so it was clear that he and his staff (or family) were also very proficient at photographing people. Bonfils was especially gifted with photographing architectural scenes; as a past architectural photographer myself, I can recognize instances where he used camera movements in order to correct perspectives that would have otherwise been skewed with characteristics such as converging lines in buildings from looking slightly up at them. It was obvious that he used perspective controls on his large format camera to correct minor distortions.

The above camera is my contemporary 4x5 field camera. I would bet that Bonfils' larger camera looked similar to this one. The back of the camera that I'm handling is called the rear standard. It is the part of the camera that controls perspective. If you want to minimize distortion, you just angle the rear standard parallel to your subject. It has a hinged bottom so you can adjust it to your subject; this is called a 'tilt' control and is likely what Bonfils used to get such distortion free photographs whenever he photographed buildings and other linear structures to make them look correct.

The only way to prove this would be to revisit the specific locations and use the same sized lens to negative ratio and duplicate the scene with a large format bellows camera. This would be an exciting way to evaluate his skills as a professional photographer; I am certain that the results would be enlightening and would clearly indicate his high level of expertise with his camera controls.

19th Century Wet Plate Collodion Camera

Photographica Site

The above camera appears to be a field camera as opposed to a studio version. The studio cameras were nearly twice this size and generally sturdier, in order to minimize camera shake. Field cameras needed to be as lightweight as possible because photographers still had a lot of gear to carry in order to make their photographs.

It was clear that as a professional photographer, commerce drove his decisions about his subject matter and his family relied on his photographic expertise in order to make a living. This is likely why Bonfils was so prolific; in order have a sustainable livelihood, he likely had to have a diverse and broad archive of photographs to market.

He used various camera formats, including the size from this collection of negatives. Stereoscopes were a cultural phenomenon of this era and sold well, as did the smaller postcards. Other items included the sale of entire albums of large albumen prints. These are still common at places such as eBay, where one often sees albums taken apart and sold as individual prints.

Bonfils likely used a stereo camera very similar

to this version. Looking at stereo views from around the

world was a common pastime in the late 1800's

The Bonfils legacy also involves key elements in the history of photography, from his unusually large collection of photographs made primarily in the late 1800's to how he is recognized as one of the significant photographers who worked in the Middle East in the late 1800’s. Bonfils did his photography at a time when it was rapidly changing from being extremely difficult to make a negative to a time when photography became dramatically easier, and opened up to amateur use. The driving force with this major transformation happened with the humble negative. It was the negative that revolutionized and changed photography so that it became more universal and democratic; a social equality with the use of photography came forth, and along the way, the snapshot was born. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

The Anchorage Auction

Part Two

Fast-forward to the early 1980's in Anchorage, Alaska, where I was at an auction where a retired or deceased photographer was getting his estate auctioned off (I don't remember whom it was, and if anyone knows, please let me know; he may have been associated with a photo store in Anchorage).

There was a multitude of boxes of photographic paraphernalia, most of it old, dusty and utterly useless. I was disappointed because it appeared that the family was not auctioning off any of the good stuff. There was not a Leica, Nikon or any other good camera gear to be found anywhere. "Dang," I muttered to myself as I briskly went through box after box, hoping that I'd find something worth bidding on. After seeing enough junk, I dusted myself off and looked through one last shabby looking box. At the bottom, I found a box of glass plate negatives and a couple boxes of old 4x5 negatives.

The auctioneer jolted my attention to the podium with a loud announcement. "Five more minutes," he bellowed through his microphone. I held one of the large negatives up to the fluorescent lights and was immediately taken by their ethereal beauty. Excellent negatives seem to glow when made to perfection, as these obviously were. All I could muster was "Wow," saying it out loud to nobody in particular. After quickly scanning a number of them they were put carefully back the way they were found.

After seeing the large glass negatives, I went over some of the smaller 4x5 plastic negatives. Ansel Adams was clearly recognizable as he stood in a forest talking to a group of what looked like workshop attendees. There were a few negatives that looked like they were made at an Ansel Adams workshop. I only had minutes before the start, so I sped up a bit. The remainder of the negatives appeared to be Alaska scenes from the early 1960's, including the 1964 earthquake and aerial views of Juneau, my hometown. I quickly put everything back as found, and hurried to get a seat.

The auctioneer was selling boxes at a fast pace and things were going cheaply, from five to twenty dollars apiece as I recall. When the box of negatives came up, the auctioneer was clearly weary of selling box after box of what were obviously photographic remnants of long-dead equipment; mostly parts of outdated gear no longer useful to anyone. He asked what anyone would offer for the box and I yelled out "Twenty dollars!" "Do I hear any other offers? Going once, twice... SOLD." And just like that, I was the owner of some very sophisticated and cool negatives.

New Research with Bonfils Negatives

Part Three

In 1998 I was a student at the University of New Mexico, nearly finished with my Master of Fine Arts program in Photography. Our then current Curator of Prints and Photographs at the UNM Museum, Kathleen S. Howe, Ph.D. was a scholar of Middle Eastern photographers from the 19th Century, so I asked her if I could take a Graduate Tutorial with her. Dr. Howe responded by requesting that I write a formal proposal regarding the research, and she was just as intrigued as I was about the Bonfils negatives. She had recently published a text titled Revealing the Holy Land, The Photographic Exploration of Palestine, published by the University of California Press.

The photographs in the text are from the collection of

Michael G. Wilson.

This was a fitting Bonfils research plan, because it gave me the opportunity to interact with a scholar whom was very knowledgeable with the nuances of photography in the Middle East in the 19th Century. Dr. Howe was invaluable with pointing me the right direction with my research into the Bonfils negatives. The first thing she wanted me to do was meet with a museum conservator whose expertise was in 19th Century negatives.

The conservator's experience allowed her to make some startling discoveries with the negatives. While delicately examining the negatives on a light table with a powerful magnifying glass, she was able to easily identify the wet plate collodion negatives that were hand-coated by the photographer, in addition to the first commercially available negatives that were coated at a factory. This transition between the two marked the time when photographers could do what we other photographers have taken for granted for decades: to simply buy film.

The conservator mentioned that the collodion wet plate negatives were higher quality than the manufactured negatives. This made sense, because the first manufactured film plates were still being perfected and photographers gave the manufacturers critical feedback about what they could do to improve the manufacturing process to make better film. The new manufactured glass plates were nearly instantly popular with photographers though, because for the first time it released photographers from being required to carry a portable darkroom and hundreds of pounds of supplies with them.

I can imagine Bonfils going from having to use a large wagon full of photographic supplies and a fairly sophisticated darkroom pulled by horses, to just a couple medium sized bags and a tripod. This would have been a life-changing event for photographers, even more radical than going from film to digital media.

Bonfils must have felt a tremendous sense of freedom with the new glass plate silver gelatin negatives, and it also must have affected the look of his photographs, because for the first time, photographers could be way more spontaneous than before. They didn't have to go through the laborious and very time-consuming process of making wet plate collodion negatives just prior to making their photographs. Hand making the wet plates must have been incredibly difficult, especially in a hot, dry and dusty desert environment.

It is an historical fact that the sensitivity of the manufactured silver gelatin glass negatives became up to ten times more sensitive to light than the former wet collodion negatives, and photographers were able to do things like use faster shutter speeds and a deeper depth of field with their aperture settings (make the aperture opening smaller for a sharper image). It also likely meant that they would be able to capture detail in sky areas, whereas with collodion negatives, skies were rendered as a dull, dense area because they were overly sensitive to the blue part of the spectrum, which equated to plain white skies when making prints from those negatives.

The blank white skies were a major reason why photographers started manipulating their negatives as a common practice. Their clients preferred a more realistic photographic view, which ironically meant that photographers would have to place the clouds there artificially, via negative manipulations. One of these Bonfils negatives shows where the photographer carefully painted out the sky so as to make a dense area of the negative. It was a work-in progress and was never finished, but we can surmise that he was preparing the negative to leave an unexposed area on the print, in which a sky may be printed in later. This is only speculation, but seems the most likely reason for the careful masking job.

One can clearly see where the negative has the name

'Bonfils' handwritten backwards in script on the emulsion

side of the negative in gold ink

Many museums and especially galleries have no interest in negatives, even from well-known photographers. I would put forth the argument that collectors should be interested in original negatives, especially since these negatives represent one of the few instances where an actual signature in ink is present in any Bonfils photographic materials. The thousands of prints in collections around the world lack authentic signatures. The signatures in their prints are not written in ink, they're reproduced via the photographic process and lack the authenticity that these negatives represent.

Use of the newer manufactured negatives likely translated to dramatically less retouching requirements, which also likely made the processes from exposure, to negative and print processing faster and dramatically less laborious. For the first time, this also opened the door to the amateur photography market, because they could simply buy the negative plates instead of being required to use a highly technical process to make sensitized collodion negative plates. This was just a few years before silver gelatin roll film was released, which also revolutionized photography as being easily accessible to amateurs.

It also appeared that Bonfils started to learn how to compensate for the manufactured negatives' shortcomings and started making higher quality negatives from them. It wasn't clear how he did this; a closer study of the negatives is likely required to answer some of these questions. Perhaps a scientist could measure the residual silver halide (rendered from silver nitrate) in the various plates to answer this. It is common knowledge that the more silver halide contained in either film or sensitized paper, the richer the tonal values that one is able to capture.

The above also made me curious as to how photographers from the late 1800’s made such precise exposures with their negatives. For an example, even today with precise digital light meters with an exposure latitude of less than one third of an aperture setting, it is still difficult to get a proper density with a negative if the scene has what is called low contrast lighting. This is because even with a proper negative exposure, one still has to compensate with negative development in order to boost the contrast in order to get an acceptable tonal range for the negative. In layman's terms, it simply means that in order to get a good negative, exposure and development represents a two-step process for making a good negative.

It means that Bonfils had a precise formula for the inherent shortcomings with capturing various types of lighting situations, which in turn means that he was more versatile than the average photographer and did not have to rely only on the brightness of the sun in order to make great negatives. Bonfils had the unique ability to make photographs at different times of the day when the lighting was more challenging to capture, an ability that only the best photographers of the day could perform.

What I found to be phenomenal was that the negative of the two women grinding grain (negative number eight) was contrasty when it was photographed in low light. The negative should have been overly grey, but had a full range of tones with a proper contrast in order to make a high quality albumen print. This one negative told me that Bonfils was indeed a photographic master with both his technique and visual aesthetic.

In addition to his commissioned portraits, he also made what could be characterized as "Ethnographic Portraiture." The people appeared to be in their indigenous garments on location where they lived, although both inferences could be incorrect. Bonfils could have posed them in costumes of his choice in a location that has nothing to do with where they usually interact, we don't know these details. These two women are lost in time with no names or identification as to what their real cultural identity was or what the place they are photographed in has to do with them. Are they Palestinian farmers processing their grain in the same manner of their ancestors? It very well could be an authentic scene with real people practicing their livelihoods as they have for thousands of years.

Other scholars have written references that argued in favor of the authenticity of his ethnographic portraits. The main argument against it would likely come from anthropologists trained in ethnography, because formal practices must be followed in order for the research to be accepted as genuine.

Two Woman Grinding Grain, Negative #8

A print from Negative #8

Many of the Bonfils original albumen photographs are readily available at various auction houses, galleries and even eBay. I have been purchasing various Bonfils prints on eBay for almost ten years. I have been searching for prints that match my negatives, but have not been successful yet, although there are many that are very similar. Here is an example of what eBay has for sale on a regular basis. The similarities are the grinding implements, women doing the work and clothing. They are different women and the background scene is different, but the layout of their task looks nearly identical.

Bonfils albumen print for sale on eBay

The same Bonfils print, but in better condition
Vision Gallery Link

Another example of an ethnographic portrait is from negative number one. It is a scene of a woman and a baby riding a donkey (mule?), being led by a man through what appears to be a rural orchard, going away from the village in the background. Is this supposed to be a visual narrative of the Christian story of Mary and baby Jesus being led by Joseph? If it is, than it offers an argument that it is less an ethnographical portrait and more a theatrical scene made solely for commercial purposes. It could also be a genuine photograph of people as Bonfils found them, carefully posed to look like a small slice of life unfolding in Palestine. Can anyone offer any clues as to the ethnicity of the people? Their clothing looks very specific and perhaps is unique to the area.
I would be very interested in hearing from other scholars who may have information about the people, culture and place within the negative.

Detail from negative #1; the original is highly detailed

My research culminated in a short paper written for the project and a set of experiments with making prints from the Bonfils negatives. I fully acknowledged that my own research was from the point of view of a very experienced photographer and not a conservator, and the paper was slanted as such.

The sheer brilliance of the above Bonfils negative inspired me to try making prints from them. Prior to proceeding, it appeared to me that the negative emulsion on most of the negatives appeared to be very durable and worth the attempt. If these negatives belonged to a museum, I’m sure this would never have been allowed, due to their age. Bonfils himself carried the day though, and I prepared my UNM graduate darkroom for making prints from his negatives.

New Research with Bonfils Negatives/

McNeil's Experimental Prints from the Bonfils Negatives

My UNM graduate darkroom was comfortable, spacious and well equipped for this Bonfils journey of darkroom discovery. It had both a high-end enlarger for printing contemporary silver halide materials, and I also brought in my own specialized equipment and supplies for printing 19^th century processes. This included items such as an oversized contact printing frame for large format negatives, an ultraviolet exposure unit for the hand-coated palladium or platinum emulsions, a large array of chemicals for the print emulsion, and other miscellaneous supplies.

I attempted to make prints from the negatives as a part of my research, first with silver halide prints from regular darkroom paper. I quickly discovered that the negatives had more contrast than what could be termed a normal negative with an average tonal range. I had to use contrast control filters to minimize the contrast for the prints. This told me that the negatives were optimized with both exposure and development for a print process that required more contrast than normal.

After that I tried making palladium prints, and they rendered prints with a very good tonal range, way better than the modern manufactured paper. There was detail in the highlight, mid-tone and shadow areas of the print, all hallmarks of an acceptable photograph made from a well made negative. The challenge with any photographic printing process is to pull as much information out of the negative as possible. I used an ultraviolet exposure unit and chemicals purchased from Richard Bostick, an expert in alternative photographic processes. About five years earlier, I took a platinum and palladium print making workshop from David Michael Kennedy where I learned the nuances of using these materials. Kennedy is a contemporary master of both palladium and platinum printing, and a great photographer.

In order to learn additional specific information about the Bonfils negatives, it was my opinion that someone should actually apply a 19th Century photographic process to the negatives. I suspected that the negatives were optimized for making albumen prints that rendered a proper tonal range. The vast majority of the existing prints made by the Bonfils studio are indeed albumen prints contact printed from negatives the precise size of these negatives.

The Mystery Photographer:

Where did he get the Bonfils Negatives?

Part Four

The mystery of how these 19th Century negatives came to be in possession of the deceased Alaskan photographer remains an unanswered question. How long did he have them and where did he get them? Some clues are the professional negatives that accompanied these ones. The black & white 4x5 negatives were clearly for various assignments, from the Juneau aerials to the 1964 earthquake scenes of destruction.

There were beautiful 4x5 black & white negatives made at the Ansel Adams workshop that appeared to be from either the 1950's or '60's at Yosemite; this told me that the mystery photographer left Alaska (at least for brief spans) and was interacting with not only Ansel Adams, but also a group of other photographers. Did this mystery photographer meet Ansel Adams when Adams made his first trip to Alaska in 1947?

In my opinion, the Bonfils negatives assert the essence of what defines great photography...

Did our mystery photographer meet someone from the Middle East along the way? Or did he find the negatives on his travels in some obscure store, or perhaps at a flea market at places such as Carmel or San Francisco? Maybe he even bought the negatives from a garage sale in Anchorage from someone who previously lived in Palestine. Anchorage was a crossroads for people working in Saudi Arabia because of the budding oil industry. Oilfield workers and engineers were common in the Kenai Peninsula just down the road from Anchorage in the early 1960's.

Conclusion

Part Five

I still think that it is very ironic that I ended up with these beautiful negatives. They have been inspiring to have for these nearly 30 years, and I have learned much about photography from them. It is interesting that these negatives are from the precise time when film was first made available for purchase, immediately following the time when photographers had to make their own negative materials.

These negatives are historic because they represent a groundbreaking technical transition in photography, and we can physically see that transition happening right before our eyes with these negatives. This still amazes me. Contrast that with today, when film is becoming obsolete in the age of digital photography. It is the other end of the above technical transition that marks the near-end of the use of negatives (as opposed to the beginning).

If I had my choice, I'd retrace the places that were photographed in these negatives and offer a contemporary view of them, photographing the same places as they look today. This would be an excellent project, just in case any of you know of any organizations willing to fund such a heroic endeavor.

In my opinion, the Bonfils negatives assert the essence of what defines great photography; namely making photographs full of life and meaning, coupled with a technical virtuosity that also honors what photography is all about. Here's to you Felix. I love your negatives.

Felix Bonfils Links:

Harvard Semitic Museum

Courtauld Institute of Art

Library of Congress Bonfils Collection

Legacy of Light; Rockett Essay

Shades of Grey, by Anna Hoover

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 01:43:00 +0000

Anna Hoover is an accomplished artist in her own right. Anna made this video about the "Identity" exhibition that was in New York City last year. I like it a lot and thought I'd share it. Gunalsheésh, Anna, thank you so much for a thoughtful and inspiring video.

Shades of Grey from Anna Hoover on Vimeo.

Journal Entry; On Creativity

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Sun, 04 Apr 2010 19:23:00 +0000

For the past week I've been staying up all night doing the reclusive monk research stuff, sipping tea and pondering the art battle plans, which were composed in the fresh snow. You know, just to make sure. Now they're a part of the cosmos, a pact between myself and the creator. I didn't get struck by lighting, so I guess the deal is on, man.

Boise State University Arts and Humanities Research Fellowship

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 19:36:00 +0000

Larry McNeil's Fellowship Title: Global Climate Change: Caught in the Act

I was recently selected to be one of three Boise State University Arts and Humanities Research Fellows. This is a great honor for me because there were so many submissions from other excellent scholars. I really love this Fellowship because it is from my own university and it places a high value on the research that is being done in the humanities. I offer my sincere gratitude; it will translate to having the opportunity to completely immerse myself in the creation of new research and art. For a scholar and artist like me, this is pretty dramatic news, because it allows me to change gears into being a full-time artist, which for lack of a better phrase, can be simply phenomenal. I never stop being completely amazed at what happens with the creative process; it is where enlightening things can happen and one may influence people in unexpected ways with the content and artistry of their work.

This Arts and Humanities Research Fellowship allows one to take a year leave of absence from teaching with their full salary and benefits, and is from May of 2010 to May 2011. If you count the summer of 2011, it is a full 15 months dedicated to new research. Fabulous!

The other Fellows were Barton Barbour and Cheryl Hindrichs, both of whom have book manuscripts as a part of their Fellowship plan.

The mission of Boise State University’s Arts and Humanities Research Fellows Program is to enable research and creative activity that will inform and enrich our understanding of the humanities: the art, ideas, history, and diverse cultures of the world. The Program contributes to building an intellectual and cultural community at Boise State University, but also in Boise and beyond; encourages scholarship in the humanities; stimulates creative expression in the arts; and nurtures connections among the humanities and between the humanities and other fields of research and teaching at Boise State University.

It's going to be a residency type fellowship with space provided at the new Ron and Linda Yanke Family Research Park on Parkcenter Boulevard. It is a new research center with a unifying theme of community engagement. The research center could not have been more perfect for my own Fellowship application. It is titled, Global Climate Change: Caught in the Act.

Part of the guidelines for the fellowship application had to do with writing a three-page description of our proposed activity; here are the first three paragraphs from my project narrative:

"My proposal is to make art using various media with the intent of enlightening people as to what is going on this moment with global climate change, both with the Earth and what humans have done to affect it. I like the definition of the humanities as being the ideas, stories, words and art that help us makes sense of our lives and the world.

Humanity is in a state of crisis that it has rarely experienced before and the merit of this proposal has to do with offering additional layers of dialogue and knowledge about the issues, using the field of humanities as the vehicle for research about the subject.

Scientists have proven beyond all doubt that the world is in a cycle of global climate change. It is now common knowledge that the massive, worldwide carbon dioxide (CO2) gases emitted over nearly the past one hundred years are the primary cause of global climate change and are a byproduct of the combustion of fossil fuels from humans to run their industries, power plants, homes and automobiles. Recent polls have shown that almost 15% more people disbelieve that global climate change is a reality than two years ago. It seems we are going backwards with the issue instead of forward. This points to the imperative need for people in the humanities to enter the fray, make a stance, and get proactive about making new work that addresses the issue. We need to make better sense of the world now, more than ever."

The narrative goes on to briefly describe my strategies for making a number of visual manifestations of things like Coal Fired Power Plants, Boise Bicycle Commuters, and the current impact that global climate change has on the lifestyles of people living in the Arctic region of Alaska. Travel is a critical part of the plan, because I need to make actual photographs of the above, using my own visual aesthetic and ideas about recent developments with global climate change.

McNeil bicycle commute on the Tee Harbor
Jackson Bikeway (from 2008).

Part of the Fellowship has to do with interdisciplinary and collaborative initiatives, which is also a natural for this project. I am currently making contacts regarding how to interact with other people and organizations who may be interested in participating in some manner. I am open to the potential for various partnerships, especially since this is a global issue that needs as much input as possible in order to beat the challenge of global climate change. If there is such a thing as an international problem needing global solutions, this is it.

Official portrait for the Arts and Humanities Fellowship. I'm wearing the vest I got from my father for when I reached the rank of Full Professor a couple years ago, and the Eagles were made by my sister Patty. I'm holding one of my retro film cameras that I'll be using with the fellowship. Photo by Allison Corona at the BSU Photographic Services area; nice one Allison!

I'll be experimenting with video media, and am looking forward to this aspect, because so much of my art already has a very sophisticated kind of narrative, and video is a natural extension of what I have to say with my art. I'll also be using digital photography as my predominant media, including making etching relief prints using the Solarplate media with a printmaking press.

One of the characteristics of my art is that it has always had an essential component that made it critically relevant to the people; I go out of my way to make work that speaks to a broad audience, because the art is about them. This new work continues that practice, because like mentioned above, I sincerely believe that we do in fact need to make sense of a world that makes little sense, more now than ever.

Boise State University Arts and Humanities Research Fellows Program

Cheryl Hindrichs, Arts and Humanities Research Fellow

Barton Barbour, Arts and Humanities Research Fellow

McNeil Blog entry on Bicycle Commuting

Copyright Larry McNeil, All Rights Reserved, 2010

Art Pedagogy in the Trenches

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 05:41:00 +0000

Art pedagogy starts with sublime coffee, and the ritual of making, sipping and sharing it has a profound effect on whether your art pedagogy works or splats unceremoniously to the floor. My advice is to avoid being cheap with your coffee and go out of your way to find the best. My current favorite is Maya Earth, grown by Mayan farmers using secret ancient indigenous practices and rites.

We art scholars are constantly challenged as to how we teach our new young students how to succeed as artists. I'm not going to write a scholarly essay about art pedagogy per se; you can get much better versions at places like the College Art Association. This is more about the behind the scenes struggles of what we actually face in the trenches, as they say.

After a certain point, the pedagogical theories fall by the wayside as you simply try to explain to students why certain art may be luminous and enlightening, while other art simply sucks. I can't recall ever coming right out and saying it precisely like that in class, but do have a tendency to speak very plainly with precise descriptions as to why certain art is way better than others. I believe that giving an excellent critique is an art unto itself, because you have to have a sense of both the actual art and the potential that is lurking about somewhere, as if something sumptuous is buried and you both have to use all your wits, intellectual abilities and intuition to find it and bring it to the surface. This is the fun part; well, for me anyway, because this is where we nurture students and help them to realize what is significant in their lives, and to encourage them to make art about it.

For a lot of us art professors, it starts with our own research, and how we are passionately and decisively immersed in it, because for us it represents a lifetime of professional experience that feeds directly into the content of our art pedagogical practices.

Anyway, fast forward to the trenches, where I've been preparing my class materials for the last three days, or the most recent lifetime. I'm at my computer right this moment, banging out the last of it before it gets printed. You don't have to see all of the actual materials, just a few snippets here and there.

Notice that the date is January 1st, it's 10:27pm and Jim Pepper is playing in the background? For me it is essential to have something stimulating, but not distracting to listen to in the background. Sometimes silence is best. For some reason, Jim Pepper and John Coltrane worked their magic this time around. Coltrane's Live in Japan album worked exceptionally well, and come to think of it, listening to it in its entirety also opened a portal to the universe next door.

I noticed that the record company kept it locked deep in their vaults for over ten years prior to its release, and I can see why, but that's another story. Anyway, back to the subject at hand.

I think that the most challenging part of being an art professor is nurturing a young artist's visual aesthetic and getting them to realize that art with a level of authenticity has to come from someplace deep within themselves. Sometimes it helps to see it in writing somewhere, so just above the required texts seemed a good a place as any.

When I was in grad school, one of my best conversations was with one of my own mentors, Patrick Nagatani. It was about paying attention to what seemed to be trivial details that we encountered in our everyday lives. I'm not going to tell you the story, because it is ours, but it did involve being accosted by an uppity raven and noticing what seemed to be insignificant at the time. It was memorable enough for Nagatani to include it in one of his art talks at a museum soon thereafter, but it was mostly about the value of paying attention to the subtle details in life, because perhaps they're not so subtle after all. In the spirit of paying attention, it is buried between minor schedule details.

The last part of the handout sheets has to do with giving students an idea of the rhythm of the overall semester, and the concluding item is at week seventeen. I thought it was important to pass on the one piece of advice that I never received as a student and wished I had. And that is the philosophy that if you are not given chances in life, sometimes you just have to be bold and take them. That has been the story of my life and has driven just about everything I do as an artist.

The parting phrase is so true. At it's best, art helps us makes sense of a world that sometimes defies logic.

Now go make art.

Copyright Larry McNeil, 2010, All Rights Reserved.

Real-Life Charlie Brown Tree

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 17:04:00 +0000

As a ghost town, Madrid wasn't really scary or mysterious; it had an ambiance more like an old run down hooker or something; maybe a bit tragic, maybe a bit from the wild side, where a quick buck was a part of the equation and people left once it was drained of anything of value. The harsh bright light of day only enhanced the feel of a place used cheaply and rough. This was December of 1977 on highway 14 between Santa Fe and Albuquerque. The surrounding high desert landscape was nothing less than stunning, and I could swear that this quirky little place seemed to be trying to return back to the Earth.

While cruising through on that December afternoon all those years ago, what really stood out was the biting cold wind on a bright grey day. The starkness was palpable with skeletal shacks and even more desolate trees that seemed not only without leaves, but just plain dead. Shiny white tumbleweeds rolled mockingly across the road as if they were the dominant life force around here. It was as though they were saying ok, you can be here, just stay the fuck out of our way. Tough tumbleweeds.

It was also as if time had nearly sucked the color right out of this part of the world and certainly intriguing enough to stop the car and go see what this was all about. The air was remarkably clear, as if it got a degree more transparent. I poked my head in a couple of the shacks. There was junk littered about, the disjointed dregs of past lives. While nosing around in another abandoned shack I was startled to hear someone approaching. What's up, man?, said the scruffy looking guy who seemed to be about my age. We made small talk about how just plain empty the place felt, a subject he seemed to know quite well, even through his not-quite focused, eyes.

He asked if I wanted to see his house. We walked about a block down to the corner and he proudly showed me his place. The windows had worn out translucent plastic sheeting nailed over them and the inside had a ratty looking little wood stove with tufts of smoke coming out of its seams. But it was warm and there was a single chair by the light of the window next to a wooden crate used for a table with a single half burned candle. He was definitely way off the grid. There was a neat row of empty beer cans next to the door. It was clearly home.

Well, I've got to hit the road, I told him. Ok he said. While walking to my car, I noticed a little bare tree next to his shack. Dangling from its branches were what looked like a couple of six-packs of empty white and red beer cans, tied on with red string. I laughed out loud and he poked his head out the door, asking What? I like your tree I told him. And for some curious reason, I sincerely meant it.

Maybe it was just his drunken remembrance of what the December holiday season was all about. The term intransigent came to mind; a plucky tenacity to just hold on, whatever that meant. The tree was a spark of color in a drab town-scape, and nearly every December I think of it, and how it seemed like a real-life warped version of a Charlie Brown tree. I like to think that perhaps it was Charlie Brown as a young man on a journey of discovery that involved traveling by his wits and giving up his worldly possessions, who remembered something important about the holiday season. Of all the garish holiday decorations I'd seen in my travels that month, this one seemed a gritty, yet genuine manifestation of gratitude, or maybe even hope. Who knows?

Dispatch From the Home Planet

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 19:13:00 +0000

Our flying saucer is out of commission due to snow; bummer. It appears that we're stuck on the home planet for a bit.

In other news, it was pointed out recently that every single billionaire on planet Earth is not indigenous to this planet. They don't give a shit about either the planet or the people. That explains a lot.

Like Charlie Brown, I'm not going to let those commercial dopes ruin my life or make me cynical, so it is off to make new art for this kid. Until then, does anyone have anti-freeze for flying saucers and a nice coffee?

Study of Increased Earthquake activity during Equinoxes and Solstices

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 07:07:00 +0000

This is not about earthquake predictions in general, but rather the rationale for making a formal study of the seemingly more transparent pattern of earthquakes that occur during the seasonal shifts of the earth during the equinoxes and solstices. It is more an open letter pointing out the need for increased research in a specific area of study. Unless of course, this has already been done, but I could not find much plausible information in my searches, and if you have any, please pass it on.

I'm not a pseudo-scientist or psychic, just someone who notices patterns on our home planet who has a bit more than a casual interest in the subject of seismic activity with unique patterns. I hope that this theory does not project an aura of contemptible ineptness; that would not do at all, because I have a sincere interest in putting forth this theory in the hopes that it opens up a dialogue, or perhaps either disprove or confirm the theory of a possible link between the seasonal shifts with the tilt of the earth during equinoxes and solstices and the timing of seismic activity.

Many of you know me as an artist, photographer and scholar. I am also constantly reminded that as inhabitants of planet Earth, we have various types of knowledge that are taught from various sources, including the sciences, humanities, cultures, and of course the practical or applied experience that we all have as members of the human race on our home planet that goes back millions of years (As Earthlings, I suspect that we may know more about ourselves and the home planet than we let on).

You may also view this entry as a subject that personifies our own academic philosophy of a Liberal Arts education, where one is encouraged to take the intellectual approach with a curiosity and knowledge of many areas. Perhaps a critical part of this is about epistemology; how we process information and the act of distinguishing opinion from knowledge.

It seems to me that there may be a neglected aspect of science that may have some relevance towards learning as to whether the idea of seasonal gravitational fluctuations have anything to do with the timing for when earthquakes are more likely to occur. For an example, what about the pattern of earthquakes that happen during equinoxes and solstices? Is there any research being done regarding existing patterns with earthquakes during these times of the year when the seasonal earth gravitational fields fluctuate and are perhaps maximized? Has anyone done formal research on gravitational fluctuations as the earth tilts during the seasons?

If gravity is powerful enough to tilt the Earth on a regular basis to create the seasons, would it not make sense to pay attention to the increased seismic activity during the time when the earth does its seasonal tilts? I get the sense that perhaps we take the seasonal shifts of the earth for granted, because it is such a predictable pattern throughout our lives and geologic time. When you think about it, the tilting of the earth is likely one of the most powerful phenomenons that we encounter on a regular basis, next to the more basic planetary movements, such as rotation of the earth on its own axis, and around the sun.

The United States Geological Survey (USGS) has a specific database that charts the number of international earthquakes, where, when, how large, etc. that goes back for decades. It would be fairly easy to produce a chart that notes the precise number of earthquakes that occurred during the equinoxes and solstices. It would mean creating a database with specific filters that produces specialized information; in our case, places that denote increased seismic activity for specific dates. Maybe this filtered database already exists somewhere. Does it not interest them that in just the past few years we've had some startling coincidences with major earthquakes during these times? Is it just me, or is this kind of a no-brainer to examine? I'm suggesting plain old scientific inquiry here, not anything radical or unconventional.

I could be mistaken, but I think that the first western scientist to publish his findings on the theory of increased seismic activity during equinoxes and solstices was John Milne, one of the groups of scientists who invented an early version of a seismograph in the 1880's. He was a Professor of Mining and Geology at the Imperial College of Engineering in Tokyo. His book, "Earthquakes and Other Movements" was originally published in 1883 and he is widely acknowledged as being one of the early leading scientists if the field of seismology.

Milne made a few historical observations in his book with the chapter on "Distribution of Earthquakes in Time (p.253)" and made a chart that noted measurable patterns where earthquakes were more frequent during equinoxes and solstices in both the northern and southern hemispheres. The observations were mixed in with other quirky observations from human history about earthquakes that didn't seem very scientific, which may be the reason that his observations on increased seasonal earthquakes have not been extended that much serious consideration by the contemporary scientific community.

To make only the broadest of earthquake predictions, contemporary scientists consider the Earth's fault zones, continental drift, strain accumulation coupled with fault mechanics, foreshocks and the history of seismic activity for any given area. There are simply too many variables that have not been scientifically quantified to the extent that seismic activity is even nearly predictable yet. Wrong predictions would tend to shoot down potential plausible theories and the public would lose confidence in the science, which of course would be very bad, because if earthquakes were predicted that did not happen, people would just ignore future predictions. My entry has to do with examining the existing heading on the history of seismic activity and maybe examining the question of possible subtle gravitational fluctuations that follow the laws of physics as the earth tilts during its regular seasonal changes.

Back in 1975, China successfully predicted a major earthquake twenty-four hours ahead of time near Haicheng, based on foreshocks, strange animal behavior, and a change in both ground water and land levels. How does one measure strange animal behavior? Locals were recruited beforehand to make a note of peculiar animal behavior, and there were documented instances of events like geese flying into trees, pigs frantically digging under fences and other general animal unease. I suspect that geoscientists would view the measurement of strange animal behavior as being too subjective to measure, unless it were blatantly clear and followed the scientific method for the confirmation of theories.

The USGS reestablished the National Earthquake Prediction Evaluation Council (NEPEC) back in 2006 and one of their directives was to review predictions and resolve scientific debate prior to public controversy or misrepresentation, so decision makers are not misled by unfounded short-term earthquake predictions.

It would be completely irresponsible to issue earthquake predictions based on suppositions, as illustrated in the story published by Earth Magazine earlier this year. On the other hand, what if there is some factual basis in the theory of increased seismic activity during the equinoxes and solstices? What if this is an instance of scientists simply not paying attention, and where potential significant facts have been ignored for whatever reason?

Personally, I'd appreciate having the USGS scientists run the data through their computers to see if there are discernible patterns with the increased occurrence of earthquakes during equinoxes and solstices. Scientists are indeed trying to put forth new theories for accurate earthquake predictions, and all have been resoundingly refuted in recent years. I would tend to think that this portion could be fairly straightforward, especially with access to an efficient database system and accurate data.

Just remember you read it here first, and if your research has quantifiable results that can be replicated by other scientists, please let me know.

Lots of my relatives and friends live directly on the Pacific Rim, the most active earthquake and tsunami zone in the world. Take this entry for what it is worth, and during the ten days on both sides of December 21st, and the equinoxes, have fun, but do take care. This entire subject is ultimately about potentially helping to get people out of harms way.

If this theory turns out to be devoid of facts, that is all right too, we all just have to work harder to figure out how to more accurately predict what our home planet is all about.

Earthquakes and Other Movements, by John Milne, (Google books link).

National Earthquake Prediction Evaluation Council, NEPEC.

USGS, Earthquake Hazards Program

USGS Earthquake Preparedness, Before, during, after, with FEMA links, etc.

Earth Magazine, Earthquake Prediction, Gone and Back Again, April 2009.

The most common question in all of photography

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 20:43:00 +0000

The other night someone asked what kind of cameras I used & my response was Poetic cameras of course-- ones that have had to struggle for their existence. They don't take much for granted and are profoundly appreciative of the moment and live it like it's their last frame.

And I meant it too.

Photo by T'naa McNeil (cameras added by Larry, except for the Leica)

How Larry McNeil & Frank Janzen made the lithographs for the Migrations: New Directions in Native American Art Project

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 03:23:00 +0000

At its essence, I suspect that photography is simply about noticing stuff that other people don't.

Writing how-to essays are pretty low on my list of things to write about, akin to a trip to the dentist, likely because of all the time spent with students describing and discussing process. I'd much rather write about the creative end of being an artist, where magic & the unexpected reside. On the other hand, process has so much to do with informing content that I thought perhaps I should break with my usual protocols and write about how this collaborative process with Frank Janzen, the Master Printer at the Crow's Shadow unfolded. Frank and I had a mutual esteem for well-told stories, the struggle for good art, Guinness Beer, good food and travel, so we got along well from the moment we first met. We also had a mutual work ethic with the creative process that involved a somewhat blue-collar attitude of showing up early, working hard all day and going home exhausted but content with our day's work. Followed by an occasional beer, because after all, we're not fanatics. I think.

Last week I did an interview about Migrations from here in Idaho with good friend Joan O'Beirne at Keene College in New Hampshire via Skype, the online phone and video service. It was a first for both of us and we pretended we knew what we were doing and just pressed a bunch of buttons until we got it to work. The sound component was easy, but the video would keep arbitrarily appearing and disappearing and we'd keep asking whether we could see each other yet. My teenager would have rolled his eyes and laughed at our bumbling ways, but us two university scholars finally put our superior intellect together and quite accidentally finally got it to work. You should have seen us beaming at each other when each of our faces appeared on each other's screens in all of our glory. On her end of the connection, my feed was projected onto a screen for the audience. Now we're art techies! Cool.

Our very own digital virtuoso.

When it came time for the live interview, we were able to show the art in the Migrations: New Directions in Native American Art exhibit that they were showing in their gallery. I pretended that I did this all the time and tried to project an air of casual finesse, and I'm pretty sure it worked. Don't tell them that we were just kind of winging it and hoping nothing fucked up. Oops, a cuss word. When I introduce myself to my students on our first day of class, I tell them Sometimes I cuss, so if you don't like it maybe you should take someone else's class. Godam it. Then I laugh and they do too. This here is the Bible belt, so sometimes I get a few forced smiles, but that's Ok, because it becomes a lightweight litmus test to see which of them may be a future artist.

I had this weird dream where I got nailed for saying bad words, but it turned out to be just an exit. My son is a good sport about helping me with photos like this as we walk through life. I'm ensuring that he has the same experiences as I did growing up with a bunch of other Indian kids, whatever that means... (Photo by T'naa McNeil)

At any rate, the Migrations: New Directions in Native American Art project has been circulating a lot lately, most recently at the Pequot Museum and Keene College. My art gets around more than me lately-- what's that all about? I'm getting jealous of my art and want to go to the Pequot Museum too. Dang. When I posted the update recently, it occurred to me that when us six artists did the collaborative project back in 2004, I made a lot of photos of Frank and I making the lithographs. Things got busy and I never did post them, so here they are, arriving on Indian time. Once I came home a bit late and my son chastised me for being tardy. I told him A Professor is never late, T'naa McNeil. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to. Delivered with a small smile, of course, also mentioning that wizards sometimes copy our scholarly ways.

When I talk to my wife every day, I always ask if our million-dollar check came in today. It's one of our little rituals, and she usually says something like, Why yes, as a matter of fact it did, now you can be an artist. Then I say, Hey, I'm already an artist! Well how do you like that, she says. Then we go about our regular business, which involves talking to the dogs and patting the boy on the head. On one of those regular days, the notice for my participation in the Migrations project arrived and I called the Tamarind to arrange the travel dates to either the Tamarind or Crow's Shadow. I asked if I could collaborate with Frank Janzen at the Crow's Shadow on the Umatilla Rez next to Pendleton, Oregon.

Getting to the Rez was about four hours from home via I-84, and when I was there they still had a few retro signs around, as a magnet for people like me who were hungry. While driving onto the Umatilla Rez, I came across this Espresso thing on the way to Crow's Shadow and took it as a very, very good omen since I love coffee.

I always try to be respectful of Sacred Grounds.

After our polite introductions, Frank Janzen and I got right to work and dove right in. We got along well, lying down what was expected from both of us for this collaboration. Frank was easy going and an artist first I think, which was why we were able to speak the same lingo and just let the small stuff blow out the window as we experimented with various things during the entire two weeks of our collaboration. I relied on him heavily for his expertise while we both strove to actualize what I'd visualized for the art. We both loved the idea of the happenstance inherent with what sometimes happens with lithography. I've always been partial to the film She's Gotta Have it, by Spike Lee, especially the part where one of the characters' favorite lines was Please baby, please baby, please baby, please? That has been my mantra for quite some time and it was invoked many times to the heavens throughout the collaboration. I'm not sure, but I think it usually works because I'm most sincere when I ask.

I was a bit different than Frank's usual collaborators because my media was both photography and digital media, as opposed to being a painter, drawer (is that a proper term for someone who draws, or is a drawer just something in a desk?), or a regular printmaker. I must admit that I felt that I was pretending to know what I was doing, but on the other hand, I spent a couple of weeks making images prior to arriving at the Crow's Shadow and brought a lot of images to experiment with. I was quite proud of how well I armed myself for the encounter and had backup plans on the side just in case anything went the path of total ruination. I didn't have any plans of last resort however, so the stuff had to work, come hell or whatever.

Living by your wits means realizing that there was no scanner anywhere, and by the way, you do work in digital media, right? Aha! Your camera can be a scanner if you've been saying your Holy Smackers diligently.

In reality, I did a lot of research prior to going to the mountaintop, and my favorite artist by a long shot was Jaune Quick-To See Smith, one of the Jurors with the project. She was my artist hero and I'd get as many books and catalogs as I could find with her art; sometimes going to sleep reading late into the night with her catalogs scattered around me. She is the lithography master and I loved her beautiful visual aesthetic coupled with her wry wit and intellectual commentary. She was the artist I was pretending to be, but didn't let that stop me, even as I realized that my visual vernacular was all my own too, so what was to worry about?

Jaune Quick-To See Smith's poster for our First Nations Conference in 2004 when she was one of our keynote speakers and featured artists.

For the project, each artist was allowed five plates per lithograph, so our challenge was where to place them, what size, color, and so on. We had to place the prints on the plates very precisely prior to exposing them in the darkroom.

As a photographer, I readily identified with the plate-making process because it involved making a negative, exposing it with UV light and then processing it in a darkroom. All of those things were perfectly natural to me and it helped me with the creative process immensely. I felt like a photo lab rat again and finally breathed easier. I was able to make these two photos in darkness because my digital camera had a true infrared feature.

The images looked even cooler on the aluminum plate than I'd imagined. There was a very sumptuous tactile nature to them that was completely new to me. And this was before any inks were involved, which was really invigorating, and I wanted to ink them up right then and there! By now it looks like there were only moments between these steps, but some of them took an entire day to do properly, and the days were literally flying by. I had no idea what day it was for the most part. There were a few mistakes here and there, such as a plate that didn't look the way we'd expected, so we'd just make another. A few of the small mistakes looked cool, so we let them be, agreeing that just in case anyone asked, hey, it was a lot of hard work to get that look.

When Frank put on all his protective gear I stood far back and used a short telephoto lens. Ok all you lithographers, what's he doing here? Do I even want to know? Frank was clearly a well- seasoned pro with the press; it seemed to be an extension of his arm. That red bottle had the nasty stuff in it, and I still stood way back and left the room until the fumes cleared the air. Frank was a safety first kind of guy, which made me feel more comfortable as my fingernails fell off. Just kidding! He was looking after everyone's safety at all times.

It seems to me that every art form has a magical aspect to it, in spite of knowing the physical and scientific properties of things like silver halide coated on photographic paper. When you get right down to it, it's simply magic to see a photographic image emerge from the nothingness of seemingly blank paper. The same was true of seeing a test print from this plate, it was breathtaking to see how the image looked as it was carefully peeled back. I found myself subconsciously holding my breath until it was peeled all the way back and Frank laughed, saying nearly everyone does that.

Selecting colors was really, really fun and this was the part where you attempt to pre-visualize how that layer would look on that particular paper. The other challenging part was figuring out how the various colors would potentially interact with each other. Will one dominate the other in unexpected ways or clash instead of harmonize? I was very sure of the dominant color for the prints, a color named Chilkat Blue in Tlingit. It was a copper patina color and would change shades depending on how it aged, the light, or which artist mixed the colors. It is in the turquoise group of colors and was at the essence of the concept of Migrations for me; the color made an instant migration home to our ancient tribal lands and made me feel like an important part of myself was merging with the art. When we got the color, I knew instantly that it was perfect.

Frank and I got the color I was exploring for using various colors of inks, including phthalo blue, white and other mysterious inks, sheens and or tints. As I recall, we spent almost an entire morning mixing a small spectrum of variations of this color. Frank was really great with this part and if he thought I was being too fussy, he never let on.

I thought some extraordinary aspects of the inks was the ability to do things like alter its opacity, its subtle color differentials and the delicate luminosity which gave it an understated glow that was thoroughly unexpected. What a marvelous surprise. I instantly loved lithography and we hadn't even made a print yet. See how the inks glow in the reflectance of Frank's shirt? Watching Frank with that big roller made me realize that there is such a thing as artistry in technique, they are not necessarily separate. He obviously transcended the ordinary and his years of training as a master lithographer at the Tamarind Art Institute certainly manifested itself here. It was like an elegant dance, replete with rhythm, sound and impeccable timing. You could hear when the inks were on the roller perfectly and precisely because it made a peculiar wet smacking noise that sounded different when it was just right.

The proof prints were nothing less than superb and it was pleasing to actually see the characteristics of the inks mentioned above and how they interacted with the paper and other inks. Some pleasant surprises were how the other layers of inks held their integrity and had an understated sense of dimensionality within the flat surface. I think this had to do with the luminance and various levels of opacity of the inks that were interacting with the paper. You could see that various layers of ink were either in front of or behind other ones, and some of them were lightly absorbed into the paper, giving them a slightly different look. My experience as a photographer helped me immensely, because I was very used to evaluating extremely subtle nuances of both my photographs and digital prints.

I think that the coolest and most gratifying parts of being an artist are seeing your work come alive and have spark because it involves so many disparate elements, from your own personal visual aesthetic, to your intellect, intuition and how one generally strives to simply make sense of the world. Because the world constantly changes, it is an unending act; not futile by any means, but always challenging and certainly very fulfilling, especially when we get it right.

At this juncture, I noticed how Frank kept meticulous notes on everything we'd been doing the past two weeks. He explained plainly that after I leave, he has to print the editions and needs to be able to precisely replicate everything we'd done. Ohhhh. It never occurred to me that what we were doing was making a number of artist's proofs and he would be doing the lion's share of the work printing the editions after I left.

One of the last things we did as a collaborative pair was to have me approve the proofs. As I recall, they didn't have titles yet, but I designated, signed and dated them. This felt splendid and maybe even bordering on magnificent. We were both beyond exhausted, our two week collaboration had literally taken everything out of us. In a good way. Don't we look happy and ready to have another go at it? Well, maybe later.

Native Epistemology

Edward Curtis' Last Photograph

The best part was that this same process was going on with five other artists all summer long and culminated in a series of exhibitions all over the country. A book was published with essays by leading critics, art historians and theorists with portfolios of our art. The exhibitions are still going strong, including the one currently at the Mashantucket Pequot Museum. One of the benefits of the project was receiving a copy of the lithographs made by the other artists; I really love how each one of us offered our own interpretation of what the concept of Migrations meant to us and the various visual aesthetics we all captured. Here's to Migrations, and I'd like to offer a sincere thank you to everyone who made this art project possible, especially Marjorie Devon, at the Tamarind Institute, who gathered up all the people with innovative ideas about how to put forth such an ambitious idea in the first place, and to my partner in crime, Mr. Frank Janzen, Master Lithographer extraordinaire.

Artists:
Steven Deo
Tom Jones
Larry McNeil
Ryan Lee Smith
Star Wallowing Bull
Marie Watt

Jurors:
Marjorie Devon, Director of the Tamarind Art Institute
Siri Engberg, Curator of Contemporary Art at the Walker Art Center, Juror
Jaune Quick-To See Smith, Artist, Independent Curator, Scholar & Activist, Juror
Truman Lowe, Artist, Scholar, Curator & Advocate, Juror
Deborah Wye, Chief Curator of Prints & Illustrated Books at the Museum of Modern Art

Contributing Authors:
Kathleen Howe, Director of the Pomona College Museum of Art
Lucy Lippard, Critic, Author, Activist, Independent Curator, Feminist & Theorist
Gerald McMaster, Artist, Scholar, Curator, Arts Administrator, Activist
Jo Ortel, Associate Professor at Beloit College, Author, Art Historian & Theorist

Tamarind Master Superstar Printers:
Deborah Chaney
Frank Janzen (at the Crow's Shadow)
Bill Lagattuta
James Tesky

Primary Funding:
Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts
National Endowment for the Arts

Here is a link about the organizers, jurors and contributing authors for Migrations: New Directions in Native American Art

UNM Press, link for Migrations: New Directions in Native American Art (low stock, nearly out of print).

Tamarind Institute
Crow's Shadow Institute of the Arts

TREX, The Traveling Exhibitions Program of the Museum of New Mexico.

All of the above is © Copyright Larry McNeil, 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Migrations: New Directions in Native American Art at the Mashantucket Pequot Museum & Keene College

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 07:31:00 +0000

Migrations: New Directions in Native American Art on Exhibit through January 9, 2010

It is quite the honor to show this art at the Mashantucket Pequot Museum and Research Center, Gunalshéesh, thank you. I've heard nothing but good things about the museum and would like to visit it sometime. Tribal museums have a special place in my heart, because they generally have a remarkable connection to the people that honors the richness and diversity of the indigenous cultures and societies of the people of the Americas. Many tribal museums also distinguish themselves from the crowd by prioritizing indigenous values as a part of their mission statements. I always feel instantly at home in them. Not only that, they usually have killer cafeterias with authentic indigenous food; that may be my new criteria for museum participation. When I get queries from curators, I'll ask them to send me a copy of their cafateria menu beforehand.

This exhibition is also being shown at the Keene State College Thorne-Sagendorph Art Gallery in New Hampshire. One of my ex-colleagues and MFA school buddies, Joan O'Beirne (who teaches in the Keene State Art Department) invited me to do a very cool online interview with her students this week. We used Skype and had me do a presentation about the art in general and had a Q&A session afterward, all online. How cool is that? Here is a screen shot of us getting ready for the online session. I used a Lowel Tota light in my office to give it some nice lighting. I talked about my art in general and the lithographs that I made as part of the Migrations project. It was fun, the first time I've done a visiting artist gig online. I take that back, I was part of another online group art project two years ago with Maria Williams and the high tech digital project she developed at the University of New Mexico two years ago.

McNeil as a visiting artist at Keene College via Skype.

At any rate, this art exhibit showcases the work of six Native artists who worked closely with master printers at the Tamarind Institute in Albuquerque, NM, and at the Crow's Shadow Press on the Umatilla Reservation in Oregon.

The six artists in this important show-Steven Deo, Tom Jones, Larry McNeil, Ryan Lee Smith, Star Wallowing Bull, and Marie Watt, and they represent a wide range of stylistic approaches, tribal affiliations, and media. Now showing in the Mashantucket Gallery. This exhibition was organized by the University of New Mexico Art Museum in Albuquerque in collaboration with the Tamarind Institute at UNM. Support for this project was provided by none other than the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts and the National Endowment for the Arts.

The "kicker" for my participation was when I heard our good friend Jaune Quick-To See Smith was involved. As soon as I heard she was participating, in went my materials to this juried show. Jaune inspired entire generations of artists, me included. While making a lot of my own art, I would keep her catalogs around the studio for inspiration. One of my all-time favorite prints of hers is Indian Heart. It is a contemporary masterpiece and still takes my breath away.

The companion book is beautifully illustrated with high quality reproductions, and the essays by various scholars and critics are uniquely insightful and well written. I really love this exhibition, Migrations, New Directions in Native American Art, because the art is very invigorating with an intellectual edge while still being quite beautiful. I fully credit my fellow artists, and it has been fun to see the new art they've been producing since when the lithographs were made for this exhibition in 2004.

Visual Currencies: Reflections on Native Photography

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 14:15:00 +0000

I'd like to thank both Henrietta and Hulleah for inviting me to contribute a chapter to this book. I am completely honored to offer my voice to the dialogue about reflections on Native Photography. I appreciate not only the scholarship that further illuminates the subject of Native Photography, but the unique insight that the various authors brought to the subject. Not only that, it's decidedly cool to have my photograph, "Masks, Masks and More Masks" for the cover. I love the photograph because it references the possibilities that photography as a medium of creative expression is able to bring to the viewer, especially in light of the extraordinary sensibilities that indigenous photographers have historically brought forth with their work, what they're doing now, and what is over the horizon.

From the National Museums of Scotland Website:
"Visual Currencies" is an edited collection of essays coming out of sessions held at the Native American Art Studies Association Conference, Phoenix, 2005. The seven contributors focus on the far-reaching influences of photography on Native American communities, and the possibilities that it currently presents. The essays present issues at the root of contemporary photographic practice, within and beyond Native American and First Nations communities, exploring the values, or currencies, attributed to to photographs by practitioners and institutions. John Tagg has memorably described the history of photography as that of an insistent practice, and this aptly and vividly conveys the legacy of Native American and First Nations photography in its varied perspectives presented by the authors and contemporary photographers who have contributed to this edited volume. By focusing on institutional repositories and contemporary photographic practice, Visual Currencies invites reflection into the 'material turn'; specifically addressing the significance of early photographs and the impact of digital media, the relationship between artistic practice and archival resources, the enactment of sovereignty and the performance of memory, operating at an individual and communal level."

Edited by: Henrietta Lidchi & Hulleah J. Tsinhnahjinnie
Paperback: 128 pages 40 colour and 20 b/w photographs
Publication by: NMS Enterprises Ltd - Publications © 2009
ISBN:
Dimensions: 24.5 x 18.8 x 1 cm

"The Feather Series" An Indigenous View of Columbus Day

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 13:56:00 +0000

The first image, 1491, symbolizes the future that never was- what would have happened had we evolved without outside interference? On the American continent we had sophisticated astronomical calendars more accurate than our European counterparts, large cities, a holistic approach to taking care of the Earth, high art that epitomizes the creativity that humanity is capable of producing, the beginnings of the use of metal, including gold, copper and iron (Yes, iron. Many arrogant Western anthropologists still don't acknowledge this fact), etc. I found myself simply wondering how humanity would have evolved had the humans indigenous to the Americas been allowed to continue to evolve without European interference. Can you imagine a world not in the midst of a human- induced ecological melt-down?

"1492" represents the legacy of death that Columbus brought to an entire continent that witnessed the murder, or genocide of untold millions of humans over 500 years. This ranks as one of the largest genocidal practices in the history of humanity that dwarfs all the wars, including the Nazi's genocidal practices. Entire indigenous Nations were murdered and survivors relegated to barren, desolate regions and deprived of their livelihoods. Our people are still dying today, right this moment as a consequence of their ancestors' first contact with the foreigners.

"Elders" is an homage to the people who have carried the gift of tradition over the years. Our Elders recognized that simply surviving was not enough. With love and humor, they have taught us that each individual has the responsibility to make this world a better place.

"Circle of Rebirth" is in homage to fellow Native Americans who struggle, often against incredible odds, to maintain their identity, to continue the circle of life.

"1992" represents the future denied us in 1491- a reminder that indigenous people still have a future that we can make our own. All of humanity for that matter. I like to think of it as kind of like a photograph on a blank page for you to fill in with how you imagine yourself to be.

I used a feather as a metaphor for indigenous identity and really love it that the media is black & white film because it referenced the world culture of 1992 so well.

Back in 1992, the 500 year anniversary date of when Columbus arrived on the shores of the Americas, a group of artists were asked by Theresa Harlan to participate in the Message Carriers exhibition that was graciously hosted by the Photographic Resource Center at Boston University.

Theresa remains one of the most thoughtful curators I've met, but I quite literally thought to myself "F*ck that, Columbus can rot in the hole where the Creator flushed him." I'd just as soon forget the person that started the 500 (517 to be exact) year blueprint for genocidal practices for an entire continent of people.

On the other hand, there was going to be a flurry of nauseating Columbus adoration going on that was going to last almost the entire year. He went on to glory the cover of just about all the major magazines that year, much to the disgust of indigenous people. I rethought her proposal and started experimenting with a series of photographs about my interpretation of the Columbus Quincentennial.

Theresa Harlan was a former Director of Exhibitions and installations for American Indian Contemporary Arts in San Francisco, and a curator at the C.N. Gorman Museum at UC Davis for many years. She also wrote a very intelligent and insightful essay on Indigenous Photography titled Creating a Visual History: A Question of Ownership for the Aperture series of Photographic Journals; issue #139 Strong Hearts in the spring of 1995.

Message Carriers featured the work of Hulleah J.Tsinhnahjinnie, Patricia Deadman, Zig Jackson, James Luna, Jolene Rickard, Richard Ray Whitman, Carm Little Turtle, and myself. I would put forth the reasoning that the art from these artists has stood the test of time, and they continue to make significant art that is relevant to not only our times, but for how future generations will view humanity. Especially for how not only scholars, but people in general view our shared histories.

In my opinion, The Feather Series needs to be in museum collections where the public can get a more balanced view of what Columbus means to the people indigenous to the Americas and all peoples of the world. It needs to be in the ICP collection, the Met, and so on. What about the Guggenheim in Bilbao, Spain? Do you think they have the huevos? Come on, I'll give you a special Columbus Day deal. I realize that I'm not on their acquisition committee radar screens and suspect that some of them may not dig what I have to say with my art, but who knows? Maybe some are in search of enlightenment.

The Joslyn Art Museum in Omaha owns a set of the entire series. Hey, let's go to Omaha for Columbus Day and see The Feather Series! It is only fitting, as it is in the proverbial heartland. Fire up those Rez cars, lets go, man. I've got some steaming coffee brewing...

The Alaska Native Reader: History, Culture, Politics

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 15:12:00 +0000

This is not a review of the book, just kind of a brief insider's peek into my chapter contribution and what I was thinking about regarding the book in general. When scholar and good friend Maria Williams first asked whether I was interested in being a contributing author to The Alaska Native Reader: History Culture, Politics, I jumped at the chance. Her description sounded purely irresistible, like offering a very shiny puzzle to a raven or something; much too delicious to pass up. She mentioned some of the other contributors, such as:

Nora Marks Dauenhauer & Richard Dauenhauer, POEMS
William L. Hensley, Why the Natives of Alaska have a Land Claim
Gregory A. Cajete PhD, The Cosmos: Indigenous Perspectives
Claudette Engblom-Bradley, Seeing Mathematics with Indian Eyes
Lilian Na'ia Alessa PhD, What is Truth? Where Western Science and Traditional Knowledge Converge
Kanaqlak George Charles, PhD, Cultural Identity through Yupiaq Narrative
Maria Shaan Tlaa Williams, PhD, The Comity Agreement: Missionization of Alaska's Native People

(There are numerous others, all with subjects of relevance to not only indigenous people, but to humanity at large.)

This book is for anyone interested in learning some of the history, science, art, and politics that hardly ever makes it into mainstream educational programs. It reminds me that even something that is supposed to be objective, such as science, is sometimes only objective as long as it is written by White Man. Hey all you White guys: What ever happened to that sacred scientific method you always preach about? Is it the truth if you exclude science that comes from other places in the world?

I suspect that a lot of our indigenous children actively resist Western education because they can't relate to it. I remember actually sneering at the first star charts (that I saw) that had Greek or Latin names when I was in elementary school and thinking quite clearly, "Who the heck are they to name our Tlingit night sky? Screw this." And needless to say, I did NOT memorize their names all those years ago. It made me realize that some of our indigenous activists are only 11 years old. This was an act of cultural resistance by a young indigenous person, and can still remember how indignant I was with the lesson. How I would have loved to have had the opportunity to read Gregory A. Cajete's "The Cosmos: Indigenous Perspectives" in conjunction with the Greek and Latin names.

In an ideal setting, children would learn all aspects of the sciences, social studies, mathematics, literature and other subjects as a part of their regular curriculums. This would give them a broader education that is inclusive of other forms of scholarship and epistemologies that are just as factual and relevant as the ones that they already use. Especially if the children are not a part of the "mainstream" ethnicity or culture. If you/we don't offer a curriculum that is relevant to them, in some instances, they simply won't participate, and opt to not learn what is currently there, like what I did with the foreign names of the stars.

My answer to this entire scenario of what happens at the intersection of the mainstream and the indigenous world was and is to make art about it, and offer my own scholarship as a University Professor. Therefore, when thinking about a title to the chapter that would appeal to young readers, I gave the title of my chapter a great deal of thought. I changed it about nine times over the course of writing the chapter, but ended up with An Indigenous Guide to White Man, or How to Stay Sane When the World Makes No Sense.
I'd have loved to have read an essay like this when I was young. Who else out there needs an Indigenous Guide to White Man? Especially when the world makes no sense.

Maria added a list of suggestions for further reading, which was a very thoughtful touch, because a lot of the chapters serve as an introduction and overview to the various subjects.

Gunalsheesh, Thank you Maria for spearheading this book project, it is deeply appreciated!

Prelude; Winter in Juneau

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 03:35:00 +0000

The title to this print is "Prelude; Winter in Juneau," and is a companion print to the larger "Winter in Juneau" print.

Click on the image to make it larger so you can read it. The Eagle helmet is owned by Sealaska Corporation and was part of the annual report project we collaborated on in February. It was a fun challenge to write this artist's statement because I wanted to make it just as visual as it is conversational. I used some elements of an earlier draft and changed it a bit to make it flow more naturally.

It's kind of funny, but when I was working on the boat (Hey! That's what I did for years as a young man-- worked on a boat) with Photoshop the other night at nearly 4:00am, I fell asleep in the midst of it and am pretty sure I did a few edits while I was more asleep than awake. I remember waking up with my hands on the mouse, and the boat looked perfect, it had the precise mood I was looking for. I can do Photoshop in my sleep and don't know if that's good or bad.
Regardless, I like how it turned out and it is now hanging in the BSU Art Department's Visual Arts Center with the "Winter in Juneau" print for our 2009 Biennial Faculty exhibition. I made my print 44" x 60" to make raven feel heroic (as opposed to monumental).

I am in some pretty heavy duty company in the exhibition; I hope you're able to stop by and take a peek at the art. There are 25 of us and we work in a broad range of media. See you there!

30 Second Koadachrome Review

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 16:22:00 +0000

The other day while zapping junk emails, I nearly deleted one from B&H Photo in New York. They asked for a review of Kodachrome Film. This was cool, because I have a stack of roughed out notes regarding the newly discontinued 75-year old film.

I clicked on their link and instead of it being a request for a review from an authority on photography (yours truly), it was an automated request from their sales department for a customer rating of their products. Their computer was asking me what I thought of a recently purchased item. The irony came out in peculiar waves; Kodachrome was being displaced by digital media and a computer was politely asking what I thought of it all, and in little byte sized tidbits, because the blanks had limits on the number of characters allowed (a digital bouncer at their door).

Well, ok, here goes. Just in case you can't read the review in the photo, here it is:

Best dang film in the universe, period. The most beautiful women in the world will beg you to father their children; the Dali Lama & the Pope will clamor for the secrets of spiritual truth and papers will be discovered that Einstein copied his theory of relativity from you as you were talking to him about Kodachrome over coffee.

Accessories I Recommend:

Dark glasses to shade your brilliance with the film

Gold Crown for when they beg you to be King or Queen of Foto

Manager to take care of your new billions of $$'s

Among the Best Photoshop Tutorials Ever (Cell Phone Art)

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 15:49:00 +0000

Kimowan's "Make Face in the hole look perfect"

Last week I was posting few links on facebook when I came across Kimowan's new portrait. I did a double take, because at first it looked like a real 1970's type yearbook photo of an African-American guy with glasses. Was this one of Kimowan's long lost brothers, maybe separated at birth? The resemblence was unmistakable. And another looked like one of my stoner buddies from high school, yet hey, wait a minute, hold that doobie, is that Kimowan? Ha! Anyway, it had me chuckling for a bit. Like Kimowan mentioned, it's an Internet site called Yearbook Yourself, with a link from facebook (under the just for fun- totally pointless heading type), so it's kind of a phenomenon of the moment there.

What really struck me was how Kimowan's Make face in the hole look perfect tutorial stood out from the crowd. His looked real, whereas just about all the others had a decidedly fake look about them. Of course Kimowan being who he is, shared his photoshop technique. It's cool how easy he made it. I've found that a lot of photoshop tutorials posted around the net are unnecessarily difficult and full of techno-gibberish. His was a cool high/low tech thing that you hardly see. A lot of photographers have been making some very interesting work with their cell phones, and this falls in that category too, even as edited. I noticed that the Maryland Contemporary Museum claimed to be the first to exhibit Cell Phone art in 2007, but I seem to recall Pedro Meyer's ever venerable Zone Zero showing Cell Phone photographs long before that (does anyone have a link for the Zone Zero Cell Phone exhibition? I can't seem to find it).

What makes Kimowan's among the best photoshop tutorials ever is both how believable he made the image look and how easy he made it for the viewer, especially when you consider that it was prep work for an app that churns out what are usually unexpected and very uneven results.

Anyway, this was a fun site, and yet is still about what's happening out there at this moment, which is what made it interesting too.

Eiteljorg 2009 Fellowship for Native American Fine Art Recipients

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 08:40:00 +0000

Including a Cool New Web Update Section & Quarterly Featured Fellow
The 2009 Eiteljorg Fellows are Jeffrey Gibson, Wendy Red Star, Jim Denomie, Fay HeavyShield and Edward Poitras. Congratulations to all! Please take the time to visit the Eiteljorg site to see the new work, you won't be disappointed. It is a very eclectic mix of great art.

The Eiteljorg also recently published an updated web section for their Eiteljorg Fellowship for Native American Fine Art, and it is quite impressive. The first place you're taken to is the newly upgraded Gallery Section. It is easy to navigate and for you art aficionados, this is a real treat because you're able to see an image of the art that the Eiteljorg has in their collection from various artists. It is an elegant experience, like a finely crafted catalog. When you click a thumbnail, a larger version of the image opens replete with the art information, including a link to the artist who made the art.

This example is an Acrylic and mixed media collage on canvas from 1996, by Jaune Quick-to-See Smtih. It gives the title, size media and year on the bottom left. If you click on the artist's name, it takes you to a bio section for them as shown below. On the bottom right, there is a set of cool navigation tools that is unique to this site. The Artist's Words link brings up a few sentences from the artist about the work. The Virtual Curator link is an innovative tool that allows you to listen to a curator talk about the work. It's conversational and informative; a very nice touch that personalizes the art experience for you. There is also an Interactive Comments link that allows you to leave comments about the art. A fun touch is the free eCard button that allows you to send a card using the art you have open. I tried it and it looks very classy. I'm impressed.
The links to previous Eiteljorg Fellowship recipients are very nicely done too. It shows the Eiteljorg's long-term commitment to the Fellowship in a very strong visual manner. The link is aptly named The Fellows, and opens to whichever group you clicked (including selecting the group year). In my opinion, this is the fun part! You can see what the artist looks like and go through a section about them that has a little blurb and brief bio about them. It's just enough to give you a good idea of who they are and what they do. And what's this? A Quarterly Featured Fellow section? Look who's there, our good friend Larry Tee Harbor Jackson McNeil!

The interview conducted by Jennifer Complo-McNutt on video was lively and informative. She's a very good interviewer who kept it moving along briskly, while still giving artists a chance to talk about their art. Jennifer is keenly attuned to the nuances of what each artist presents with their own unique art and tailors her interviews accordingly. She's clearly very good at it. Here are some screen captures from the video; Jennifer did have me laughing and being introspective, a very cool combination.
I've found myself going back to the site to look at the art and to learn a bit more about the stories that drive them. The last place I visited was the Art Forum area. It looks newer than the other pages. An Art Forum is a most excellent idea for the site and I noticed that nobody posted anything in some of the areas, so I enterd a topic. Check it out! I would like to extend the Eiteljorg a heartfelt thank you for the very thoughtful and innovate site for the Eiteljorg Fellowship for Native American Fine Art; it is an amazing resource, not to mention very beautifully done.

Thank you, Gunalsheesh!

Winter in Juneau

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 01:33:00 +0000

I love the winter in Juneau and miss it. While walking around during a snowstorm in February with my cameras, I was thinking about what the essence of Juneau in the winter may look like. There were ravens flying around having way too much fun. A few were looking rather regal and yet others were hassling them a bit for their seriousness. A whole tribe of them was scarfing pizza downtown, ignoring the snow. For real. But mostly, they were reveling in the bliss of simply flying through the big snowflakes.

As usual, the mountains loomed overhead, and the upper ridges dissolved in and out of view from the clouds and snow. You always feel a bit small looking up at the mountains. The scene changed from moment to moment. This is how I remember Juneau from when we used to live here; this will always be home regardless of where I currently live.

My cameras were getting a bit wet from all the snow, and I’d put them inside my jacket as I walked around, wiping them dry every now and then. I was shooting mostly digital, but in homage to photography, shot with Kodachrome film too.

This was a commissioned print from Sealaska, which makes it pretty special for me. I made some other art for them, but really love this print because it feels like Juneau to me.

Larry Tee Harbor Jackson McNeil, 2009

(Digital print, 44" wide x 60" high, for you photo tech-heads, shot with a brand spankn' new Canon 5D MKII w/ 70-200 f/4 lens. Powered by high octane hooligan oil, none of that sissy stuff for this kid...)

McNeil Selected for Artist Residency in Aotearoa, New Zealand

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Mon, 18 May 2009 01:41:00 +0000

It is completely my honor to be recently chosen to participate in an Artist Residency in Aotearoa, which is the Māori name for New Zealand. It is a month-long artist residency that was sponsored and organized via a partnership between Te Waka Toi /Creative New Zealand and the Longhouse Education and Cultural Center, The House of Welcome at Evergreen College.

I am very excited at the idea of participating in this international indigenous cultural exchange! I would like to thank all of the people at Te Waka Toi and the Evergreen Longhouse for their confidence in my ability to fulfill the ideals of this residency. Tina Kuckkahn, the Director of the Longhouse and Puawai Cairns, the Policy and Projects Adviser at Māori Arts have been my primary contact people with the logistical planning, which has been quite substantial. There were so many people behind the scenes who had critical input into the residencies, like Sandy Adsett, and so many others. Please excuse me if I don't name them all here. I'll be posting more information later. Thank you Te Waka Toi and the Longhouse for your very kind generosity and insightful planning with this residency, it is sincerely appreciated.

On my end, it was a true group effort that propelled me on my way, starting with my wife Debi, who is always so supportive of everything I do, including releasing me from my responsibilities as a father and husband for a month! My sisters Helen and Patty made me a beautiful Dakl’aweidi tunic with wonderful Keet designs, and my nice Jessica (a Freshman in college who is very good at speaking the Tlingit language) helped with the Dakl’aweidi songs. We believe that our songs are important too, because they are a living manifestation of our ancient history and ancestors.

I am looking forward to what promises to be creative, challenging and a great learning experience. Not to mention fun. I really love the idea that art drives just about everything associated with this residency and that there is a powerful indigenous component from both the hosts and guest artists.

Gunalsheesh, Thank you everyone.

About the Residency

Te Waka Toi, the Māori arts board of Creative New Zealand, is responsible for developing Māori arts and artists. It develops initiatives and delivers tailored programs and is the branch of the New Zealand government that supports Māori art and culture

The Longhouse has enjoyed a successful partnership with Te Waka Toi /Creative New Zealand for the past several years. They began a three-year pilot project in which Te Waka Toi sent a Māori artist to spend ten weeks in residence at the Longhouse during Spring Quarter of each year. They had been very honored to host artists of extremely high caliber from Aotearoa: Christina (Tina) Wirihana (2006), Takirirangi Smith (2007) and June Northcroft Grant (2008).

Te Waka Toi wishes to reciprocate the hospitality that the Longhouse’s community of artists has demonstrated toward the Māori people by inviting a Native artist from the Longhouse’s community to participate in the residency in New Zealand.

Criteria

Both Te Waka Toi and the Longhouse expressed an interest in hosting an established artist who can represent him or herself artistically and culturally in a variety of cultural and academic (higher education) settings. They also mentioned that if the artist were able to bring new techniques or explore new types of media with Māori artists, it would be particularly well received.

The Longhouse Advisory Board has added the following criteria for a successful candidate’s application:

The artist will be an ambassador on behalf of the Longhouse’s community, as well as the artist’s own unique heritage; therefore, it is important that the artist be able to represent his/her cultural heritage through appropriate protocol, while at the same time representing the diverse community of the Longhouse. For example, the exchange of wiata, or tribal songs, is an important aspect of Māori culture.
The artist will be asked to interact within a variety of tribal and academic environments. Flexibility, a willingness to work with teams of artists and groups, and an open, diplomatic personality will be keys to a successful residency.
Although the artist need not be a faculty member, the artist should have the ability to lecture in academic settings and can support their thesis through the work.
All of the Māori artists who have been hosted by the Longhouse have been of national stature and the Longhouse wished to reciprocate at a similar level of artistic excellence.
The artist should be able to produce a body of work within the time frame of the residency.
The artist will be representing many people on their journey and the Longhouse community will want to be connected with what is happening; therefore, they asked that the artist be technologically literate and keep the community informed through travel blogs or other means of documentation for sharing across the miles. Upon their return, the artist will be asked to present in various settings (Longhouse community dinner, tribal and urban settings, etc). It will be important to document and share the experiences of this historic exchange (I am writing this at the airport just prior to my departure, so I am starting my part of this residency now!).

I applied to the Longhouse for the Residency and my application was then forwarded to Te Waka Toi, where they did a jurying process too.

In the meantime, it's off to Aotearoa!

Gunalsheesh Again, Thank you.

Gold Medal Basketball in Juneau is Serious Stuff

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 14:34:00 +0000

When I was growing up in Juneau, early spring meant Gold Medal Basketball. This was one of our serious events that nobody would dare trifle with. Nobody. It was a force of nature, like the herring coming back to spawn.

Back in the early 1960's when I was a wee lad, my grandma Mary Brown Betts brought my little brother and I to one of the finals. She dressed us in proper white shirts and ties and we pretended to be gentlemen for the evening. After all, this was Gold Medal basketball, folks. No messing around with that.

Anyway, it did my heart well that when I was in Juneau recently, I was asked to shoot a Gold Medal photo for Sealaska. This was a fun thing on the side that Dixie asked me to do while in the midst of the other stuff. We went up on the roof of the Sealaska building to photograph Anthony with a basketball and the mountains in the background. Of course, he HAD to be wearing cool shades, because after all, this was for Gold Medal, man. Nothing to be trifled with and all.

Visual Sovereignty: International Indigenous Photography conference and exhibit

noreply@blogger.com (Larry McNeil) — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 07:14:00 +0000

The C.N. Gorman Museum is proud to present VISUAL SOVEREIGNTY, our second International Indigenous Photography conference and exhibit. Thirty indigenous photographers from Australia, New Zealand, Canada and the US will come together for panel discussions April 4-5. The accompanying exhibition will be on view starting Friday April 3.

Schedule of Events:
============

Welcoming and Exhibition Opening Reception
Potluck Style-- Guests are encouraged to bring a dish to share. The Native American Student Union will be serving Indian Tacos.
Friday April 3, 2009, 5-8pm
CN Gorman Museum

Conference Welcome
Saturday, April 4, 2009, 9:00-9:30am
Sciences Lecture Hall, UCD

Panel Discussions:
Establishing Visual Sovereignty: Documentary Work by Pathbreakers
Saturday, April 4, 2009, 9:30-11:30am
Sciences Lecture Hall, UCD

Political Perspectives
Saturday, April 4, 2009, 12:30-2:15pm
Sciences Lecture Hall, UCD

Indigenous Studio and Portraiture
Saturday, April 4, 2009, 2:30-4:15pm
Sciences Lecture Hall, UCD

Visioning Landscapes and Communities
Sunday, April 5, 2009, 10:00-11:45am
Sciences Lecture Hall, UCD

Altered Realities
Sunday, April 5, 2009, 12:00-1:45pm
Sciences Lecture Hall, UCD

For more information, see our website: http://gormanmuseum.ucdavis.edu/ or call the museum.

I hardly feel more connected to any group of people outside of my own family, Tlingit Nation, school where I teach, or friends. I have known many of these photographers for just about my entire career, so YES, I will be there. To listen. To See. To share. Like our honored elders say, "If they can't make it, we'll just have to have fun without them..."