One should always have a Frank Lloyd Wright next door, don’t you think?

The opportunity to shoot the Marden House last month came courtesy of the National Building Museum. The evening’s host, AOL co-founder Jim Kimsey, opened up both of his houses for the museum’s release of Taliesin Diary: A Year With Frank Lloyd Wright. It’s a great story, by the way, how the Marden House came into the Kimsey fold.

The night of the event, it was dark, wet & chilly; to get the second shot here I tiptoed on the icy slush near the pool, willing away visions of my cameras slipping into the cold water.  That would have been quite the bummer. Luckily, despite experiencing a sort of Alice in Wonderland whiplash effect moving back and forth between the “monument to wretched excess” and the Usonian classic, my cameras and I stayed on solid ground.

Check out what else the NBM has up its sleeve for upcoming programs and lectures. ]]> http://www.archiphotovist.com/2013/03/08/making-friends-with-the-neighbors/feed/ 0 http://www.archiphotovist.com/2013/03/08/making-friends-with-the-neighbors/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheArchiphotovist/~3/x8eeTy12LS4/ http://www.archiphotovist.com/2013/02/28/shoot-for-hope/#comments Thu, 28 Feb 2013 17:41:55 +0000 The Archiphotovist http://www.archiphotovist.com/?p=2826 NOTE: the images in this feed have been removed - to see them in all their glory, head on over to the original post by clicking here.

Get two good things in one: A chance to document your family AND help to fund research to treat and eliminate Eosinophilic esophagitis (EoE) and Pitt Hopkins. In honor of dear friends whose lives are directly affected by the diagnoses received by their son and nephew, I’m celebrating Rare Disease Day by announcing Shoot for Hope. Here’s how it works: I’ll waive all fees for a family or individual portrait session for the first two folks to send me proof of donation (and why not make it a hefty one!) to either the American Partnership for Eosinophilic Disorders in honor of Jack Baxter Burstein or to the Pitt Hopkins Research Foundation in honor of Calvin Lapidus.

The shoot must take place in the Washington, D.C. metro area, in spring or summer 2013. Donate by Friday March 8, 2013 to be eligible. Please contact me directly at annemcdonoughphotography@gmail.com to find out more about joining this Shoot for Hope.

Ann Hamilton’s the event of a thread is no more; the installation closed on January 6. But for a few weeks, the Park Avenue Armory was filled with people swinging, and, thanks to their collective pumping legs, huge white curtains that billowed and peaked and dipped, like visual music or a many-headed Casper the Friendly Ghost. One of us fell off a swing (not me); another of us got a great big splinter in the bottom attempting to take an action shot from the ground (my brilliant move, and sadly none of the swinging shots quite caught the spirit). The Armory floor, it should be noted, isn’t nearly as smooth as the ride on the swing. Which was awesome.

Go See Details

The Park Avenue Armory is an incredible site; this installation was in the Wade Thompson Drill Hall and while pricey if you just dipped in ($12), it’s the kind of show that had I been traveling, I could have spent all day there just swinging and people-watching.  There’s also a small cafe in one of the adjacent rooms, where you can play a game of chess while sipping your coffee. The 2013 installation/event schedule has not yet been released.

I love learning from people who love what they do. Occasionally I’ll drop in to see what a particular photographer, or archivist, or librarian, or whathaveyou is doing on any given day, and then follow up with two questions for them to answer for the site. Some folks I already know; others I meet in the process of learning about their job. None of them ask me to say nice things about them.

Here’s a look at Franz Jantzen, fine art photographer, custom printer, and collections manager for graphic arts at the U.S. Supreme Court.

Franz’s lair is his basement, which has both a digital lab (a computer, rolls of paper, and a mammoth Epson printer) and a traditional darkroom, where his grandmother’s Saltines and Beech-Nut Coffee tins pile up along with boxes of film.

Here, he keeps company with a President and a rather familiar eyes-and-mustache combo. Tucked behind a photographic timer, these test strips are what remains after delivering custom black and white silver gelatin reproductions of cultural treasures. As  City Paper described last year, the Lincoln image was among the last he printed from negatives in the collections of the Library of Congress.

For this particular project, the client picked a photograph from the collections at the Washingtoniana Division of the DC Public Library, and commissioned a print through their referral. Unlike the Library of Congress jobs, where he made silver gelatin prints from original negatives, here Franz would make a digital print from an meticulously cleaned up scan.

The photo was from the Washington Star collection. On the back of the print was a clipping showing how the image had been used in the paper; the editors had chosen to crop out the sky and make the image a strong horizontal. And in one of those little twists of smallworldness, the view was one I see almost every single weekday.

Two Questions Details

If you’re looking for high-quality custom prints, Franz Jantzen’s your man. Reach him at (202) 904-0282, archivalman@starpower.net, or learn more at www.franzjantzen.com.

As an artist, I would have to say my favorite piece is whatever I’m working on at the moment, and as a collections manager I might have to answer the same way. I find I can become passionately or obsessively devoted to whatever I’m cataloguing or researching – not to everything equally, of course, but your question immediately brought to mind a photograph I don’t think I’d seen until two weeks ago. It’s of Earl Warren and it came to us as part of the collection of papers, photographs, and memorabilia donated by the Warren family through the Supreme Court Historical Society in 1993.

I was going through our accession files for something else when a gray piece of chipboard caught my eye in one of the Warren files. It turned out to be a 9×12 backing from a photograph that had been taken out of its frame. His wife Nina Warren had written all over the back, which was not unusual since she wrote on the back of nearly every one of the hundreds of photographs we got from the family. It started with a listing of biographical dates about her husband, starting with his birth and death dates, then the date Eisenhower nominated him to be the Chief Justice, etc., and then she wrote briefly about how the photograph had been taken in the office of the editor of the Sacramento Bee on Earl’s last visit to that city before his death in 1974.

Then this caught my eye: “My favorite photo of Chief Justice”. Among all of the personal photographs in the collection, I don’t recall seeing such a intimate comment by her or anyone else. Out of all the photographs of him she had, why this one? Since the bulk of the graphic arts collection is stored about 20 minutes away from my office I could not go straight to the original print – of course I had to see what it looked like immediately – so I went to our database which I knew would have at least a low-res digital image. It turned out to be a bust-length black-and-white headshot of him seated in an office setting and looking off to the left, but he has a wide, terrific smile which makes him look far younger than the 83 year-old man he was at the time.

Out of all the thousands of photographs that had been taken of this famous man, I would love to know what it was that made her decide to declare in writing that this was her favorite. I can only guess it was that smile, but we will never know, which surely makes it all the more intriguing. And by referring to him by his title, was she intending this for those unknown to her who would be reading this in the future – like me?

We didn’t have a good scan and the cataloguing was minimal. Perhaps to honor Ms. Warren, I wanted to make sure this photograph would be ready for a potential researcher. It’s a well-printed photograph and I guessed since it was taken in a newspaper editor’s office, that it had been taken by a staff photographer. However, I didn’t know when his last visit to Sacramento was, and we don’t have diaries or family calendars in the collection to help in that regard. I called the newspaper, and while they didn’t find the photograph in their Warren file they did find an interview he gave to the paper that was published in January 1974, which may or may not have been his last visit. It would be much more satisfying to be able to put a date on it and know who took it, but I’m afraid that is as far as I’ll be going and only hope it tickles some future researcher’s interest. ”

What’s your next personal photo project?

I am always making new assemblages, but am always making new negatives as well, and consider that a whole different body of work. Only a few months ago I returned to the series of photographs I was working on when I first started making assemblages, and which I stopped abruptly when the assemblages sucked all the air out of the room.

The series is a group of photographs of small mostly midwestern towns at night, all as part of a fictional county I’ve invented named Dempsey County. It’s both about our idealization of the small town, and about its slow death. The series lay dormant from 2005 until last summer, when I made a dozen fresh 4×5 negatives on several nighttime expeditions while in northwestern Illinois. This reinvigorated my interest in the series, but it meant I had confront what is for me a major issue: if it starts on film, can it end up a digital print? For me I’ve kept the two separate.

As committed as I am to the silver gelatin print, I can print no larger than 20×24. And these Dempsey County photographs I have begun to see as stage sets which I would like the viewer to be able to enter, and that would mean larger prints: inkjet prints. And I think the size has won out over keeping the two separate. I haven’t looked for a venue yet, but it’s coming close.

Thanks for playing, Archival Man! (And congratulations!)

I ducked into the one of my favorite spots in DC the other day and was introduced to Peggy Bacon. As the Archives of American Art exhibit demonstrates, we’re all connected.

Thanks to Three Degrees of, well, Me, I spent a recent Friday at the Baltimore Museum of Art for the opening reception of an exhibit showcasing Baltimore talent. Alex is my sister’s college roommate’s brother (and a delightful guy, plus the subject of one of the best-written Vows columns ever), but in the art world he’s also one of the three winners of this year’s $25,000 Mary Sawyers Baker Prize, an annual competition open to Baltimore-area artists.  The show closes this Sunday; get yourself on over there!

If you’re in the Baltimore area, you can hear an interview with Alex, live at about 9:40am on 88.1FM TODAY. If you’re father afield, you can stream the show live here: http://www.wypr.org/listen-live … or listen to the segment as a podcast here: http://www.wypr.org/podcast/10-3-12-high-art-high-art

Go See Details

No photographs were harmed in the taking of these shots – that’s the artist himself cozying up to one of his images at the exhibit’s opening reception. The Baker Artist Awards 2012 show runs through October 7. In addition to Alex’s photographs, and the work of the other winners, there are several runners-up, known as b-grant recipients. Don’t miss the haunting “Devil’s Alphabet,” by the late Lauren Simonutti. Admission to the Baltimore Museum of Art is always free.

Six Degrees of Peggy Bacon will be on view through November 4 at the Lawrence A. Fleischman Gallery.

Along with what seemed like the rest of the world, we braved the heat on Saturday for some time well spent at the National Book Festival. I headed right to the Library of Congress pavilion, where a technology graveyard & some excellent tips on managing personal archives were to be found. And then, continuing our tradition of book-buying dates, we joined the long lines in the Book Sales tent and added some titles to the library as well. Print is alive & well, at least on the Mall this weekend. ]]> http://www.archiphotovist.com/2012/09/24/a-trip-to-the-mall/feed/ 0 http://www.archiphotovist.com/2012/09/24/a-trip-to-the-mall/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheArchiphotovist/~3/8MaMhx2dNvM/ http://www.archiphotovist.com/2012/09/10/well-hello-there/#comments Mon, 10 Sep 2012 13:00:30 +0000 The Archiphotovist http://www.archiphotovist.com/?p=2628 NOTE: the images in this feed have been removed - to see them in all their glory, head on over to the original post by clicking here.

The weather’s cooling off. Time to book a hot date.

The site cries out for a wide angle, but mine is in the shop. So the 50mm and I, with Steve Buscemi on audioguide, explored Eastern State Penitentiary, Philadelphia, PA on a recent rainy day.

Go See Details

Eastern State Penitentiary closed to inmates in the 1970s, but it’s open for the tourist business daily. The facility also offers an extensive array of resources for those looking to do a bit of research. Each year a few art installations are chosen to be staged in and around the cells; one of the current artworks involved fitting a car behind bars. Also in the Fairmount neighborhood, try Cafe l’Aube for worth-the-wait lattes and crepes (oh for a repeat of le paysan), and Osteria for unforgettable goat cheese and beet-stuffed plin. If you have room for another meal, walk towards the Barnes Foundation for an eclectic, fabulous, and very veggie-friendly brunch at Sabrina’s Cafe. If only we’d had a bit more time to fit in a visit to the Maurice Sendak archives.

Is that a rose on my plate or did you just get all fancy with the garnish?

Occasionally I’ll be resurrecting some recipes from Reciplay and posting them here. I contributed this particular recipe to the site.

Food Details

The peel looks kinda gross before it’s rolled up into its rose shape, and the skinless tomato definitely looks the worse for wear. Don’t let your guests see the making of, or the magic’s ruined.

1 round tomato with unblemished skin; Optional: 2 sprigs parsley or mint, or 2 “leaves” made from green construction paper. But I don’t really recommend the construction paper.

1. Set out a short, sharp, unserrated knife (a paring or utility knife works well) and a cutting board.

2. Slice off the top of the tomato and discard.

3. Make a small cut in the edge of the skin, near where you just cut off the top, and peel the tomato like it’s an apple, catching as little flesh as possible and continuing until you have completely separated the tomato skin from the meat.

4. Lay out the peel with the flesh side down, and roll it up.

5. Gently move it on the serving plate, add the greens where you see fit, and voila: Rose on a plate.

Gina, our niece, created an image that we loved for our wedding website, save-the-date, the program and our thank you cards. The individual elements are all simple and, when it comes to wedding designs these days, popular ones – bikes, a camera, a book – but combine the three and you have us in a nutshell.

Then, in May, she updated our family logo in honor of the arrival of our little one.

The bikes in the illustration aren’t a tandem – for a reason; we do things differently, and our book collection is no exception.

For the past year, thanks to many of our loved ones, we’ve been building our library together, in a date-by-gift card fashion through afternoons and evenings at Politics & Prose. We often start with a coffee from the downstairs cafe – with a top, you can walk around the bookstore with drink in hand – and then wander, browse, consult, and head home several books heavier.

My husband is methodical and thorough; he’s armed with titles culled from his pile of New York Review of Books, and the books he’s acquired warrant shelf space only once they’ve been read and marginalia-ized, after which they’re arranged by author within general categories. He’s the most generous man I know, but will never lend (or borrow) a book. He rarely re-reads.

I generally spend the time at P&P browsing and end up with an odd assortment. As the daughter and granddaughter of librarians, and having worked as a librarian myself, you’d think I’d have a shelving system. Yet with few exceptions (my Nancy Drew hardbacks, my Beany Malone collection, my Chinese language books and those associated with archives), the books I own can only be found by serendipity, since they’re put on any shelf or windowsill that has room. When I’m organized about it, I try to emboss each new acquisition with our From the Library of stamp, so years down the line a book I pull off the shelf to reread will remind me of the incredible gifts we received.

It’s been fun, continuing to collect books for our library in our first year of marriage.  Here’s to the people who brought them into our lives!

P.S. The newest addition has his own catalog on LibraryThing; it was too overwhelming to start one for our collection, but as his was just beginning it was a fun little side project, one that’s easy to update as additional titles wiggle their way into our home.