I hope you can join us!

I am really excited to share that I will be showing work from my newest project, FARM DAYS, alongside that of an amazing group of artists at the Griffin Museum of Photography in Winchester, Massachusetts, from June 12 through July 26!

Since last October I have had the privilege of spending time at, and becoming inspired by, the Clark Farm in Carlisle, Massachusetts. It's a small, organic farm near the center of Carlisle, a rural town of about 5000 people that is less than 30 miles from downtown Boston. The farm is both historic and beautiful but is also a working farm where, among other avenues, the owners raise livestock and run a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) for direct-to-consumer selling.

 But the work is about more than just the visual beauty of the farm. It's about the people, the land, the hard work, and the idea itself.

 You can see much of my work on my website : adrienbisson.com/farm-days

 The Griffin Museum will be hosting a reception for the artists on June 27, 4-6pm, and is open Tuesday-Sunday, noon to 4pm, if you want to see the work in person!

You can find out more about the Griffin Photography Atelier 40 here:

https://griffinmuseum.org/show/photography-atelier-40/

 The work will be on display in the main gallery, in Winchester, from June 12 – July 26, 2026, and the reception for the artists will be June 27, 4-6pm.

 There will also be an Online Artist Talk – June 18, 6:30pm -- Link coming soon!

Griffin Museum of Photography 67 Shore Road, Winchester, MA 01890

When my book, “The lawn was like a hay field,” was accepted into the Griffin Museum of Photography's 14th Annual Photobook Exhibition last May, I was somewhat concerned that because my entry was a hand-made, limited-edition book, if I only saved one for the show after selling the others, something might happen to the book prior to delivering it that would prevent me from showing it. Paranoid, I know, but that's the way my mind works; worst-case scenario ;-)

In any event, I did hold back 3 copies when they first were on sale. The one that the museum showed lives in their collection today, but I still have the other 2 copies. So today I am putting those two books on sale. They are not “used” or display copies. But they are the last two.

The full blurb about this limited-edition book is here: https://adrienbisson.com/blog/2023/5/19/the-book-its-available And the link to buy one of these two is here: https://adrienbisson.bigcartel.com/

And lastly, there are plenty of copies of the second edition available there too. This edition is the same book, in soft-cover, and not limited.

My grandfather was a builder. Besides homes, in one case with his brother-in-law, my great uncle, he built at least two pretty incredible churches in these same suburbs of Boston. This was a century ago when building materials were moved into place with horses, and hammers and saws required a significant physical investment. So when I find things that I missed a long time ago in my own towns that required thought, skill, and labor to create, I imagine the people and circumstances that led them to take on these projects. How long did it take to construct that wall or that fieldstone garage?

I am learning to look, think, and imagine. It’s a work-in-progress.

A couple of days have passed since that long night. Sadness, anger, and trepidation seem to envelope me, and almost everyone I know, love, and respect. For me, the depression of the morning after gave way to a deep sense of loss—a loss of so much potential for good—a tragic missed opportunity. In almost every conversation that I have, I have to force myself to avoid succumbing to the anger and disappointment that I feel.

In a democracy, we have power—the power to vote for people and ideas. That's technically true, but in my 52 years of voting, I have come to the realization that I, as an individual, have very little power in the absence of a collective of like-minded others. It's a hard lesson, and I hope that first-time voters, especially, do not lose hope but know that together, people can and have affected positive change.

I know that a lot of us, in dealing with our emotions, are resolving to make personal changes—to do things that will have a positive effect—and avoid the attraction to negativity. I know from my own household that starting the day by pouring over the news, while informative, is a prescription for a really bad start to the day. That is one habit that has already changed here.

For my part, the lead-up to election day was an enormous distraction. As a result, I hadn't shared art online in months. Reversing that trend will be my resolution, and one that I hope to live up to. I have no say about how the world works. I don't even have a say as to how my condo association works, let alone the country. What I can do though is to create and share and to somehow hope that the universe can be positively influenced, one person at a time.

The photographer and writer Robert Adams has written: “It is the responsibility of artists to pay attention to the world, pleasant or otherwise, and to help us live respectfully in it.”

Speaking of my book, I am really happy to share that the first edition, which I printed and bound by hand in an edition of 18, has been selected to be shown at this year's 14th Annual Photobook Exhibition, at the Griffin Museum of Photography, in Winchester, Massachusetts. There's more information about the show here, and it runs from June 13th to September 1st. There will also be three artist talks in which all of the creators have been invited to take part. I will be participating on June 25 from 7 to 8:30 p.m. This talk is a "virtual event," aKA on Zoom, so there is more info here. (the event has taken place)

As always, thank you for your support and interest!

I finally got around to making some installation photos, below. Following those are a few of Kevin Harkins shots from the opening reception.

The show will be on display until May 19th, so there is plenty of time to see it, Wednesdays through Sundays, from noon to 4 p.m.

Thank you again for these event photos Kevin!

I don't know how old I was the day that he and I set out on a hike into the woods, but I was young enough that he was pulling me behind him in a red wagon. In those days, if you were to cross the road in front of our house and start walking into the brush, it would have been a straight 2-mile shot through the woods to where our grandparents lived. I'm not sure what his intent was, but after a while, I felt like we were lost. I think he would say that we were simply late in arriving, but I'm not sure we were even expected at our grandparents. And for a while on that hike, he was pulling me and the wagon through some fairly deep, muddy water, admonishing me to "stay in the wagon!".

I don't know how old I was, and it's quite likely that my memories of that adventure contain more than a few embellishments. I do know that our absence was noticed, causing quite a bit of concern on both sides of that wilderness. Maybe panic is a better word. We eventually popped out of the woods on the other side, only a few yards from our grandparents' house, who by this time were waiting anxiously. The ride home was probably pretty uncomfortable for one of us.

Exciting news! My project, "The lawn was like a hay field," will be showcased at the Arts League of Lowell's Greenwald Gallery starting on April 24th! Join us for the opening reception on Saturday, April 27th, at 3pm. The reception is of course free and open to the public. 

I'm presenting photographs that I created when I was a teenager in the small town in which I was born and raised, juxtaposed with ones that I made there in the last couple of years. It’s a story filled with memories of growing up in that time and place, and how we've both changed and stayed the same.

As I was working on my book, "The lawn was like a hay field", I knew that I would eventually want to show this work in a gallery setting. So when the Greenwald Gallery opportunity presented itself I knew that it would be a perfect fit. The Greenwald, an intimate space within the encompassing Arts League of Lowell's bright and airy coop gallery, allows the viewer to interact with the art on a very personal basis.

At the reception, and for the run of the show, the soft-cover edition of my book, The lawn was like a hay field, will be available from the gallery. It’s also available here.

Where is the Arts League of Lowell?

307 Market Street, Lowell, MA 01852

From Route 3 North or South, or from I-495: Take the Lowell Connector to Thorndike Street. (Exit 5B). Follow Thorndike and continue on Dutton Street. Turn left on Market Street.
The ALL is on the right in the red brick Gates Block building. The gallery is just inside the main entrance. 

 (click here for a map)

Parking

There is some on-street, metered parking near the gallery, but the HCID Parking Facility, at 350A Dutton Street is a 6 minute walk. To get to the gallery from there, follow the signs toward, and past the National Park Visitor's Center, then turn left onto Market Street. Cross Dutton Street at the light and the ALL is the second building on the right.

(click here for a map to this garage)

About ALL

ALL was founded in the Fall of 2003 and held its first monthly meeting in January of 2004. With the help of its members, sponsors, and patrons, ALL fosters and celebrates creativity and artistic expression in Lowell and the surrounding areas. Click here to learn more.

The softcover version of my photography book, The lawn was like a hay field, is now available through my online store. Click here to go to the store!

I was both happy and sad when I announced my first edition, as it was a limited one, and while it sold out in the first day, there were also people who missed out. This new softcover edition is commercially printed so I anticipate having plenty of copies available.

The lawn was like a hay field is my photography book recalling life growing up in a small town in New Hampshire. It is a project that has been a long time in the making. It began in 2022 with my revisiting old photographs from my archive, making new ones in that town, and writing some of my memories from that period in my life. It’s a story of my growing up in that time and place, and how we both have changed in some ways, and both have stayed the same.

You can read about the story of my book’s creation in the last few editions of my blog:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

First the good news: The hand-made, first-edition of my book, "the lawn was like a hay field", sold out on the first day that I announced its availability!

I am extremely grateful for all of the interest!

So the bad news is that they're gone. I am truly sorry if anyone was disappointed because they were not able to snag a copy.

The news may not be SO bad though. I am actively researching commercial printing options for a 2nd edition. I really enjoyed printing and hand-binding each of the books in the 1st edition, but it is really an investment in time and materials, so “limiting” the number is essential. A commercially-printed edition would obviously be more like a mass-produced art book than a hand-made one, but it would not be a limited one.

This idea is currently just that, an idea. A 2nd edition doesn't yet exist, so my ramblings here are not a commitment. Today though I would like to conduct an extremely unscientific survey. As many of you know, my blog posts feature a "like" button at the bottom of each post (it looks like a heart). You don't have to log into anything to register your opinion and I cannot see who presses the button. I only see a number of clicks. (You can always leave a comment for me though) But if you like the idea of more books being available, especially if you think you would like to purchase one, I would ask that you press the "like" button in today’s blog (look for the heart). There would be no commitment on your part either, but the raw numbers would be a fairly useful data point for me.

Thank you again for all of your interest in, and support of my work!!!

Adrien

My book is now available for purchase!

The book, "the lawn was like a hay field", is a limited, first-edition, hand-made photography book recalling my life growing up in a small town in New Hampshire.

Each copy of this hand-crafted book has been designed and hand-sewn by me. All of the book's 72 pages of my photographs and writings are archival ink-jet-printed, so the images in the book are actually high-quality photographic prints; the images are not reproductions.

Currently available as a limited first-edition of 18, each book has been numbered and can be signed by the artist.

This project has been a long time in the making. It began about a year ago with selecting old photographs from my archive, making new ones in the town, writing my recollections, designing the layout of the book, studying how to make the books, practicing, sourcing tools, and the materials for the books themselves. Even launching the online-store has been an adventure.

If you’d like to see the progress, from early December, please see my previous 4 blog posts. (click on any of these 4 images to read more)

All 18 copies of my limited edition, hand-made photo book, "the lawn was like a hay field", are finished!

The books are 8.5 x 8.5 inch, 72-page, hand-made, hard-cover books, and the pages are all ink-jet-printed, so the photographs are just that, not reproductions.

The content, design, and printing of this piece is something that I have been working on for more than a year; in a way, actually for 55 years. Some of the photographs in the book are ones that I had created when I was a teenager in the small town in which I grew up, sequenced along with ones that I made there in the last couple of years. It’s a story of my growing up in that time and place, and how we both have changed in some ways, and both have stayed the same.

I have a few more logistical details to work out, but in the coming days I will have some of the edition available for purchase through my web site.

I will post the link once the page is live.

Today I am also publishing a new gallery containing some of the images from the project here on the web site. You can view the gallery here: https://adrienbisson.com/the-lawn-was-like-a-hay-field

When I embarked on this project I don't think I was thinking that creating a book would be easy. But I don't think I knew how big this project would end up being either. The process of creating the content of the book, from making the photographs and writing the text, to working with Emily Belz to select and sequence the photos, to working with Doug Sparks to get the text right, to ink-jet printing the entire 72 page book - 16 times, and now to actually making the hand-made books...has taken me about a year to get to this point. I still have a lot of book binding work to do, but the completed work is in sight!

I have one completed "artist proof", which is a prototype book. There are a couple of things that I learned from doing the AP that will help going forward, but the AP is effectively like the final product. I just completed the sewing of the other 15 book bindings and will be gluing the bindings this coming week. Then on to Middlesex Bindery, where Todd Davis has graciously shown me how to use his guillotine, and is allowing me to trim all 15 books. There is still a lot of work to do, specifically "casing in", but I am enjoying the process and the results are pretty gratifying.

In my next post I will include a page-turning video of a finished book, so I hope you'll stick with me!

The journey continues.

There are still places where you and I can buy, or borrow books; the kind of books made of paper. I have a much better appreciation now for the work that goes into making such creations. My journey through this process is one that involves mere photographs, and a few words. But I know now that the making requires more than just a concept, an idea, or even the raw material. It requires persistence and dedication; almost obsession.

The past couple of weeks I have been trying to finalize the content and the form of what I want to create, with the invaluable help of my mentor and my collaborators. The final selection and sequencing of the photographs has been made, my writing has been translated into grownup English, and I have begun the printing, stitching, and binding of the books. There's much more to do, but there's also progress!

Hello again!

In previous years I used to blog at the end of a calendar year in order to list the things that I had accomplished professionally in that year. But I’m finding that resuming my blogging especially challenging now, after a long pause, and after experiencing so many changes in the last couple of years. I no longer do client work. I am still making photographs, but ones that are of a different sort; for me.

For the last year I have been working on a personal project that may have been waiting in the wings, ready to be made for decades. It took serious talk and guidance from an incredible mentor to draw this out of my subconscious, and literally, out of my archives. I have been reluctant to even speak of this project to most people while I was developing the idea, mostly because I was hesitant to mention something that I worried I could not finish.

The body of work in this project consists of black & white photographs that I had made in the late 1960s and early 1970s, along with ones made in the last couple of years, of the town in which I was born and grew up. It’s about memories, family, who I was, and who I am now.

I decided to begin talking about it now because I am about to begin the process of making this story into a self-published, and limited edition hand-made photo book. I plan to document my progress as I build this physical manifestation of my project. I hope you find the process and the result worth checking out!

Please click through to the project gallery and feel free to leave your comments.

I need to breathe!

All winter, the Covid Winter, I had been trying to cope and remain creative by just trying to accept where we were and make some art. And remember to breathe through it all.

I have put together a gallery of the work here. I want you to click that now and breathe with me. There's nothing profound there. Nothing challenging. No irritating tissue boxes. Just some images that I made and that I hope will help you breathe with me.

If you missed the link to the gallery, click here.

I feel like I have been hibernating for a year. It's getting a little tired. More than a little. I have been trying to keep physically, mentally, and artistically active, but as we all know, it's tough. Last Spring I started an in-person workshop at the Griffin Museum of Photography called the Atelier. The world changed after that first meeting. Like most things, from that point it was all on-line. I don't think any of us thought that the workshop would work that way, but I think most of us changed our minds by the end. I blogged about it here ages ago (Alone Together - the show). In the middle of 2020, being at a certain juncture in my life, I decided to stop taking commercial work, which had all but vanished anyway. For that reason, and for the obvious safety concerns of working in the studio during those days, I couldn't justify keeping the studio. So I let it go.

This blog entry is more of a touch-base moment than anything profound. I wanted to let people know that I was still alive and working! I also hope to blog here periodically, as opposed to my more recent habit of just sitting and waiting for something to happen. Take it from me, that doesn't work. I am working on a couple of long-term projects and plan to talk and show some of that work, at least here. It's a work-in-progress.

I was looking at some of my favorite coffee table books the other night and got a little fixated on the Irvin Penn Centennial book created for the Met's show of the same name from a couple of years ago. I realized just how much I miss photographing people, and my studio. I have loved Penn's work since I was in high school. Those perfect quirky poses, the lighting, the contrast of those flawless prints, and the 'drop of poison', that thing that is a little 'off' that makes you linger and think, always inspired me. Photography as an art has certainly changed since his time, and not only in a technological sense. But I still get inspired by his work, as well as Avedon's, Gordon Park's, and many others who were working in those years when I was so artistically impressionable. So while I am doing some work now, mostly outdoors, I do miss the interaction that comes with working with a subject as well as the intimacy of the studio. I don't have plans for a studio any time soon, nor do I plan to take any 'client work', but I do hope to meetup with people outside and make art with them.