Country Joe McDonald and the Veterans' Memorials

I visited Country Joe McDonald (countryjoe.com) at his home in Berkeley on a very mild day in February 2012.  I arrived early and read Jules Witcover's 1968: The Year The Dream Died in my car until our 11:10 appointment rolled around.

At 11 Joe and a woman left his house.  He looked at me as he started to get into his RAV 4, walked over, and asked if I was waiting for him.I said I was but that I'd arrived early.

He said that he needed to drive his mother-in-law home and that he'd be right back.At 11:10 he returned and invited me in. We sat at a table in his kitchen with several of his large scrapbooks resting on it. That's where this interview took place. If you listen carefully you can hear the paper rustling throughout the interview as he flips through the books.

Joe was involved in founding four Vietnam Memorials in California, including what may be the first online memorial. For this podcast I've excerpted Joe talking about this memorial which honors those killed who came from Alameda County, CA.

He lent me a physical copy of that Alameda memorial which I'll be including in my upcoming exhibit on Veterans Day.

The Capitol Memorial

On Friday, Nov. 3rd, I drove to Sacramento to interview Bill George (formerly of KCRA).  Bill offered some insights into the founding of the memorial and B.T. Collins.

But before I met with Bill I shot seven rolls of the memorial.  Here's a few that I've printed so far.

Shadow and Line: The Story of California's Vietnam War Memorials to Open Veterans's Day, 2012

I'm excited to say that Shadow and Line will be opening on Veterans's Day, 2012 at the Petaluma Campus of the Santa Rosa Junior College.  I am hard at work photographing (between rain drops), conducting interviews, and souping in the dark room.  

More images and updates soon.

The Story of California's Vietnam War Memorials

 Most Creatives I know are inspired to work on more projects than can ever be completed.  To find the balance of which projects to choose, to seek those projects that are truly important, to know which call to answer (as mythologist Joseph Campbell might say), is remarkably difficult.  

When it comes to choosing, I like to think of Odysseus (or "Brave Ulysses" if you listen to Cream).  If you don't recall, to return to Ithaca, Odysseus and his crew had to row past the Sirens' island.  Those who heard the Sirens' call became enchanted, so Odysseus used beeswax to plug the crew's ears. He lashed himself to the mast so that he could hear the song without responding.  Although Odysseus wanted to answer the call, he couldn't.  His crew wouldn't let him and kept rowing until the song faded.

Too often, we become distracted by the Sirens in our life and our journey to Ithaca is obscured.  That's what happened with my Vietnam War Memorial project.

I first became interested in the memorials around the turn of the century when I learned that one of my professors, Robert Coleman-Senghor, had founded the Vietnam Veterans' Memorial Grove at Sonoma State University.  Although Bob was a Vietnam veteran (I've since been told that Bob was not a Vietnam Veteran.  My memory must be faulty), he founded the memorial because of one of his students.  It's a moving story that I'm researching further and, when he told me the story, I knew that I wanted to uncover the other stories behind these memorials.

But, as happens, I started the project, became distracted, and failed to follow through.  The project floundered until Bob passed away earlier this year.  His passing came at a time of transition for me and I realized that now, although late, was the time to complete this project (at least as much as I could without Bob). 

So far I've located 52 memorials in California, though I'm hoping to uncover more.  Some are modest, others elaborate, and I've found all that I've visited to be moving in their own way.  When it comes to memorials, I've learned that size doesn't matter:  Each has its own voice and gravitas. 

In the coming weeks I'll be posting images of the memorials in this blog.  I shoot black and white film and I don't scan until I've made a final print, so there's a lag between when I shoot and when I post.  I'll be interviewing the founders of the memorials or those close to them, and post excepts from those discussions, too.  Finally, I'm speaking with curators about exhibiting the images in 2012, with the hope of opening on Veterans' Day.  I'll post that information as well.  

Check back here often.  I'm shooting memorials and/or printing weekly.

Photographing Clouds

I occasionally hear people ask how we can photograph clouds after Steiglitz*.  What they're really asking is: 'can anyone add to the conversation after Stieglitz without looking derivative?' It's a fair question.

 

The same can be asked of all art.  How can we write fantasy after Tolkien or Robert Jordan?  How can we paint abstracts after Kandinksky?  It depends on the artist.  Some artists' work will be derivative but others will FEEL their subject and offer something new. 

 

I shot these images after a storm and the light felt right out of a Maxfield Parrish painting.  It was amazing, yet at the same time I found myself wondering if photographing clouds wasn't trivial, even pedestrian, despite the incredible light.  Oddly, I find myself drawn more and more to photographing clouds.  They're no different than a tide pool or graffiti; they're just more accessible. 

 

No subject should be off limits as long as it speaks to us. My photographic mentors were clear on this: limited perception leads to limited art.  And, as Ansel Adams said, there's nothing worse than a sharp image of a fuzzy idea.  If our subject doesn't move to us, the images WILL feel derivative.

*Stieglitz's images of clouds, which he called equivalents, have towered over photography since 1925.  You can read more here.