Utterly charmed by the work of Evelyn Hofer on this overcast day. Here’s her Dublin Sky, 1966.
[Via Sighs and Whispers]
Category: Photo Love
Masked
Posted by – August 14, 2010
Very little about Mardi Gras appeals to me. I hate booby beads and how the original concept has been co-opted by dudes (not the good kind of dudes) and a focus on getting totally obliterated. However, this early on-the-street photography from the 1903 New Orleans Carnival, as documented by tourists from Illinois, is the kind of pagan festival I can get down with. Give me a full face mask and I’ll be happy as a clam.
[Via the Louisiana Digital Library and Nothing is New, my favorite.]
Summer Inspiration
Posted by – August 6, 2010
Some recent Flickr favorites to show my idealized summer…not the one that makes me chafe and swelter. Cool nights ahead, please!
Woman With Daisies and Spirit, Circa 1875
Posted by – August 3, 2010
I love calculated spirit photography. The stereotypical nature of the ghost amuses me to no end, but the composition is breathtaking. The daisies really add a candid element to it.
[Via The American Museum of Photography and Meighan; Thanks, lady!]
Death of a Redwood
Posted by – July 28, 2010
Seeing a fallen Sequoia is such a saddening thing. The scale of that tree alone against the endless crowd of munchkins and horses sitting atop it — my god. I can only imagine how many hundreds, if not thousands, of years old that giant was. A tragedy. I hope the pioneers enjoyed that giant pencil.
Unlikely Beauties
Posted by – July 26, 2010
I come across many a carte viste and wrinkled photograph in my antique store and internet trawlings, and I am so much more interested in the portraits of the unlikely beauties: not the pouty lipped, perfectly bouffanted socialite of 1880, but her wan complected, wonky-nosed, slightly “off” counterpart. These are the women whose stories I want to know. It scares me a little to know that photos of me (and everyone else who feels mild trepidation when having their photo taken) might float through the antique and vintage “pass around” system one hundred years from now, but seeing these imperfect, oh-so-endearing women makes me feel confident in my future.
[Etsy vintage sellers, from top: johnnyvintage // obscurio // ohmymilky // obscurio // NostalgiqueArt // InspirationSnapshots // DrawingRoom]
Photo Love
Posted by – July 16, 2010
I’ve been busy as all get out this week, so I haven’t been able to post nearly as much as I’d like. This weekend is my bloggin’ time! For more photo indulgences, check out my Tumblr.
Ophelia’s Death
Posted by – July 10, 2010
“There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
Therewith fantastic garlands did she make
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead men’s fingers call them:
There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;
And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:
Which time she chanted snatches of old lauds;
As one incapable of her own distress,
Or like a creature native and indued
Unto that element: but long it could not be
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pull’d the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.” — Hamlet
[Editorial via Korean Vogue Girl - April 2007]
Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frog
Posted by – June 24, 2010
“In the poison’d entrails throw.—
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one;
Swelter’d venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot!
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg, and owlet’s wing,—
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;
Witches’ mummy; maw and gulf
Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark;
Root of hemlock digg’d i the dark;
Liver of blaspheming Jew;
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse;
Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips;
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,—
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,
For the ingrediants of our caldron.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
Cool it with a baboon’s blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.” — The Three Weird Sisters from Shakespeare’s MacBeth
I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: Alison Scarpulla is a witchy woman, and I love it. Crystal balls are meant to be worshipped.
Campfire Memories
Posted by – June 22, 2010
Some of my most treasured memories from childhood involve going to the local campground (Spook Cave in the house!) to tramp through the low-hanging trees and pokey trails, play on ancient playground equipment and set up our worn orange pup tent for a night filled with owl hoots and the sound of far-off trains. All of this was preceded, of course, by the construction of a ramshackle campfire, making s’mores with marshmallows and a jumbo bar of Hershey’s, creating shadow plays on the tent’s glowing walls and catching fireflies in the dark. These recollections make my summer.
Annnnd, I couldn’t mention camping without bringing up the time that my sister accidentally peed while going down the slide at the campsite. (Sorry, Jasmine, but the abrupt switch in your pants in all of the photos from that trip is goddamn hilarious to this day.)
[Photos by Greg Stimac via Booooooooom]
Blogs I Love: Dark Passage
Posted by – June 22, 2010
Julia Solis has my dream job. She explores and photographs forgotten, paint-chipped mental hospitals, ancient tunnels beneath the city streets, and the detritus left behind after institutions fall into disrepair and become obsolete. Basically, abandonment city — cue my sincere and hand-wringingly strong lust to join her on these journeys. She gains access to the kinds of places I only stare at from a distance, wishing I had the cojones to actually climb over a barb wire fence and risk stigmata to my delicate paws.
She’s done more incredible work than I could ever show in one blog post, but these photos of abandoned theaters — the series is aptly titled “Stages of Decay” — made me lose my breath. To imagine all of the dramatic enterprise hat once took place in those gilded, velvet lined amphitheaters, now hanging in tatters. The ghosts of former performances hang around, I’m sure, reliving their glory days.
For more of Julia’s work check out her website, Dark Passage, for a full portfolio of her travels. Her daily blog, Dark Passage Travelogue, explores the artistic artifacts found beneath the crumbling walls she scales. If you’re in New York, she frequently holds talks and sometimes accompanies the public on tours beneath the streets — but I may just be making this up. She’s rad.
Guest Posting on sfgirlbybay
Posted by – June 22, 2010
I’m doing some guest posting over on sfgirlbybay in the coming week or two. Hop on over and check out my post on mugshots of the last century. Petty criminals and wonky eyes galore!
West African Masquerade
Posted by – June 21, 2010
Any type of handmade costume is catnip to me — Jerri Blank-style elasticized mom jeans, weaves (any hair, really), the horned-and-furry Krampus from the Alps — but these West African variations are seriously mesmerizing. Every look is so varied and emotive — and that teeny tiny skull on the guy’s head? Totally Beetlejuice!
Photographer Phyllis Galembo has cataloged the masquerade here.
Ultimate Happiness
Posted by – June 20, 2010
I’m an early bird. I fall asleep at grandma-esque hours (reading in bed at 9:30, passed out by 10) and rise with the sun. Going to the farmer’s market on the weekend is one of my most precious pastimes. I’m an amateur cook (and that’s a bit of an overstatement), but I can’t get enough of the sights and smells of roughage being snapped, raw cantaloupe flesh, the murmurs of conversation and the infinite expanse of dogs and babies. It’s my own religion, really; who needs to go to a stuffy church when I can salivate over the fragrant, beautiful fruits of the earth? I worship at the altar of the tangible.
[Photos via marcinema on flickr]
Oh, Victorians
Posted by – June 16, 2010
As a bit of a Tumblr addict, I’m continually on the prowl for interesting photography and themes. Fuck Yeah, Victorians! provides both: all Victorian, all the time, with strange gems (those tin types!), painterly inspiration and random tidbits. Sold.
[Via My Love for You, I think? I just fell in love with this Tumblr so fast that I kind of don't even remember.]
Ruth St. Denis, Circa 1915
Posted by – May 30, 2010
Wow. Ruth St. Denis is a vision. A pioneer of the modern dance movement, she was the mentor and teacher of Martha Graham and created a dance repertoire that melded her interests in exotic mysticism and spirituality. She was definitely one of the early adopters. She lived from 1879 to 1968.
Worship
Posted by – May 25, 2010
I’m totally digging these photos from Ciara’s Paris Vogue editorial spread. I didn’t even recognize her! I’m totally impressed with the simplicity of the layouts, the lack of focus on bling and the subtext (meow!) — it’s much more than the sum of its parts.
[Via Garbage Dress]
War Paint
Posted by – May 17, 2010
I only learned to properly apply make up about two years ago, and this was only after begging my friend Jaime to show me her tricks (she always looks natural and glowing) and camping out at Sephora for many weekends to get free makeovers. Somehow I missed this rite of passage, in between being a huge book nerd and always falling asleep at 10 when I was at sleepovers. (I’m guessing all of the make up tutorials took place after I went to sleep and before they put my bra in the freezer.)
I’m proud to say that I can now successfully apply powders, face paints and elixirs and look pretty decent. However, my process is more “slap it on” and less step-by-step process, as these LIFE Magazine photos from the 1940s can attest. Seriously, whatever order is going on here: I want to know more. The triangle war paint is blowing my mind.
[Via LIFE Magazine Archives]
Chick-Chick-Chickens
Posted by – May 10, 2010
Sweet nostalgia! I’ve never lived on a farm, but growing up surrounded by pastures and farmland allowed me plenty of opportunities to appreciate them (…which I didn’t until I left Iowa. Funny how that works.) I have fond memories of chasing barn cats, picking concord grapes and skipping over hay bales — which resulted in scratched knees that smarted all summer — at my grandma’s farm. (It was worth it.) Whenever I visit my homeland I relish the sights and smells of doe-eyed cows, saucy chickens, and gentle horses. Nicole of Habit of Being’s beautifully photographed chickens make me want a little hen house of my own here in the city. The thought of little chicks running around makes my toes curl!
Antique Pups
Posted by – May 4, 2010
[Man with Dog; Distinguished Dude]
[Clockwise: Three Cats and a Dog; Great Dane and Couple; Baby and Dog; Biting Off More Than You Can Chew]
I know that I’m a dog person; I always have been, and I probably always will be. I’ve been trying to work my cat mojo as of late, but dogs just speak my language — I love their enthusiasm, their loyalty, the fact that they always know how to comfort you when you’re down and entertain you when you’re bored. Dog love goes a long way for me, and these antique photos show that I’m not the only one that’s felt that way. Also, can we talk about the dogs in the photo scene?! MOST AMAZING PHOTO.
Alex Prager
Posted by – May 3, 2010
DAMN. Alex Prager evokes the most sumptuous associations for me: Cindy Sherman, Quentin Tarantino, Hitchcock, John Waters and every (insert genre)-spoitation film of the 1970s. The colors, the casualness of the shots, the sinister details of the compositions — hanging ropes, bum fires, drowning — I love it.
Polar Exploration
Posted by – April 30, 2010
I’ve been thinking a lot about Polar exploration since reading a fascinating story of S.S. Andrée’s ill-fated attempt to fly over the North Pole in a hydrogen balloon in 1897 (an incredible read: I highly recommend it). Both North and South Poles were bleak, far-flung locales (the ends of the Earth, literally) that challenged a generation of explorers to layer up and lose a toe or two. The endless bleached tundra and and glacier hunks are so untouched. It’s a scary place (the temperatures alone freak me out), but so intriguing — look at that sea elephant skeleton and midnight sun! I wish there was somewhere still totally untouched by humans left on Earth.
[Click on each image to see the source. The State Library of New South Wales and Clark Art Institute Library Exhibitions are great resources!]
Sabine Pigalle
Posted by – April 28, 2010
Sabine Pigalle creates such stark, striking scenes out of black and white. They’re like arty advertisements for a mythical life with keys to hidden chambers and half drunk potions and men contemplating fish (which is my favorite photo, by the way). Beautiful stuff.
[Via TrendLand]
Courtesy of Sabine Pigalle and Louise Alexander Gallery
Hands // Nails
Posted by – April 23, 2010
I find such power in hand iconography. These photos of strong red nails really bring out the wannabe bad ass in me — the part that aches to ride a hog, be in a band and draw on a Cindy Crawford mole. What does it all mean? I that it reflects my unresolved wish to go as a Robert Palmer girl for Halloween. Anyone want to join me in a gelled, bra-less gang with guitars? We can all wear red lipstick!
On My Way
Posted by – April 22, 2010
Dear friends,
I’m currently en route to see my beloved family in Iowa. I’m going to spend my long weekend garage saling, thrift shopping, bike riding, dog snorgling and sniffing the small town breeze. I’ll be posting on and off during my trip, so stay tuned for more posts in my absence!
“I don’t know whare ime going but ime on my way”
Love,
Alison
Andrew Waits
Posted by – April 15, 2010
Andrew Waits is a portrait genius. The scenarios and saturated colors — DAMN! It’s so hard to choose a favorite, but the girl looking at the bones in the case? Love! What’s your favorite of the bunch?
Friday
Posted by – April 9, 2010
I’m starting my day with Primal Scream’s “All Fall Down” on repeat and the bed covers strewn about: overcast mornings make it hard to get anything done. I’ve been contemplating my dream life lately and I think that my sleeping state is most aptly expressed as oceanic depths with a few luminous jellyfish floating by (i.e. I don’t dream that much, but when I do, they’re nice). I’ve been having some major issues with insomnia as of late, so I think I analyze my sleeping world more than others might. (But that’s easy to do when you’re awake from 3 to 7 a.m.)
What’s your sleeping life like?
The Carters
Posted by – March 31, 2010
The Carter Family’s morose Christian harmonies and fire and brimstone folk songs are pretty much my go-to for music accompaniment. It doesn’t matter if I’m washing dishes, pulling my hair out while trying to write a pithy post or just reading a book while lazing around in bed — I can depend on the Carters’ seemingly endless catalog to provide an earnest, acoustic reality check that just feels good. (I also have a serious thing for the autoharp and Maybelle’s deep twang.)
These LIFE Magazine photos of the family were originally documented in 1941 at the Carter Family’s home in Poor Valley, Virginia. The Carters’ music career spanned thirty years (or more, with infinite reincarnations since, including daughter June Carter Cash) and they really laid the groundwork for country music. Seeing how they lived and where they came from makes it so much more potent. (And that wallpaper is amazing!)
Some of my favorite songs include No Depression in Heaven (not online, sadly), Wildwood Flower, Bury Me Under the Weeping Willow and I Never Will Marry. (Listen at the links! I’ve also written about my love of Joan Baez’s version here.)
There’s also an interesting documentary that talks about the Carter Family’s influence on all subsequent country music. Watch a clip here. (I can’t wait to watch the whole documentary!)
[Thanks to Routine Investigations for digging up these photos from the LIFE Archive!]
Delaney Allen
Posted by – March 30, 2010
It’s another dreary, thoroughly meh day in Brooklyn. While I love waking up to hazy gray skies, the petite plings of raindrops on my window and curtains that look like antique feedsacks from the lack of light (this is a major positive), I can’t help but snuggle down and wish I could just hibernate in my nest of quilts until tomorrow. These photos from Delaney Allen (which are precious and few) sum up my thoughts for the day: sunset fog and dusty corners and let’s-just-stay-in-this-cave-until-spring.
Time to get out the umbrella and embrace wet hair! Bed, I’ll be eagerly awaiting you all the day long.
Friday
Posted by – March 26, 2010
Le siiiigh! Shelbie Diamond captures all of the ephemeral moments that I never seem to have a camera for (save my memories, which slowly fade into blurry blips): stopping to rest on a leafy roadside mattress, incandescent sunset reflections like a slow oil spill and the purring contralto of a knee-high, crispy field. I’m thinking of the weekend and roadtrips, weeds as hair accessories and giant slurpies all around. Where to go first?
