"It took place where?" he asks.
"I can''t rightly remember," I say back at him.
"How could you not? It seemed so vital at the time."
"Yes, important words were spoken there. Words like,
'Time,' the great arbitrator."
Hero - Kate
Kate, Halloween Night, Marshall, 2014
Kate, as most of you know, is my daughter, "Child #2" in family speak. Now, everyone believes their child is the most incredible child ever was, and that's how it should be. But I just have to say that Kate is truly extraordinary and I couldn't be prouder of the young woman she has become.
ShatterZone - Up and Running
ShatterZone opened at the Pink Dog Creative Gallery in Asheville's River Arts District this past Friday, November 7. The reception was great fun with a mix of old friends and new acquaintances. It was a group effort. In addition to Randy and Hedi, Ralph, and Jamie who have been mentioned in previous posts, a special thank you goes out to Kelsey, Kate and Shu for their work at the opening, Lynn, Karen, Mark and Julie, artists at Pink Dog for their timely assistance. And mostly I want to thank all of you who came out to see the work. The exhibit will be hanging until January 11, 2015, plenty of time to get down there and take a look.
Cheoah Webb Butchering Hogs, Dry Pond, Madison County, NC 2009.
ShatterZone
I-26 at Buckner Gap, Madison County, NC 2008.
ShatterZone will open on Friday, November 7, at the Pink Dog Creative Gallery in Asheville's River Arts District. The address is 348 Depot Street and the reception runs from 5-8 pm on the 7th. This weekend is also Gallery Stroll Weekend throughout the River Arts District and most artists and studios will be open to the public. I will be at Pink Dog Creative on both Saturday the 8th and Sunday the 9th, after 10:30 on both days, if you'd like to stop by. I hope you will.
The project, ShatterZone, has been in my head for a while now, but remains a work-in-progress. This exhibit has offered me the opportunity to bring together a large grouping of images that speaks to this theme. It's been valuable in moving the whole project forward. Thanks go out to Randy Shull and Hedy Fischer, the owners and operators of Pink Dog Creative. And my friend, Ralph Burns, who stepped in at a moment's notice to handle the multiple things that go into putting on even a small show. Additionally, for me personally, Ralph's long understanding of my work, his critical comments and thoughts, and enthusiastic support made the process easy and comfortable. Lastly, I cannot say enough about Jamie Paul, my associate for over four years who had a hand in every part of this project. It simply wouldn't have come together without him.
Driving Lessons with Kate, PawPaw, Madison County, NC 2009.
Pink Dog Creative
I will be having an exhibit of photographs at the Pink Dog Creative Gallery at 348 Depot Street in Asheville's River Arts District. The exhibit will run from November 7, 2014 to January 11, 2015 with an opening reception on November 7 from 5-8 pm.
This is my first one-person exhibit in Asheville since my Sodom Laurel Album exhibit at the Asheville Art Museum in 2002 and I'm excited about showing new work from a new project. I want to thank Randy Shull and Hedy Fischer from Pink Dog Creative for this opportunity in their wonderful space. I also want to thank Ralph Burns, my long-time friend and mentor, for his work pulling this exhibit together. Finally, my assistant, Jamie Paul, has been his usual indispensable self who often leaves me wondering what I ever did before he came into my life.
I have included a short essay on the project. Galleries always want an artists statement, or introduction, or something explaining the work. Over the years I've responded to these requests in various and sundry ways. Today's version comes after the image.
Shu and Griffin Shaving Cheyenne, PawPaw, Madison County, NC 2012
These photographs are part of a work-in-progress titled ShatterZone, which is meant to accompany my two previous projects from Madison County – Sodom Laurel Album and The New Road.
Shatter zone is an 18th century geologic term that refers to an area of fissured or fractured rock. The phrase took on new meaning after World War II when political theorists began using it to denote borderlands. In this modern definition shatter zones become places of refuge from, and resistance to, capitalist economies, state rule, and social upheaval. Appalachia, and Madison County in particular, fit that definition.
Throughout its history, Madison has provided a haven for Native Americans, early Anglo settlers, Civil War resisters, Vietnam veterans, and refugees from the country’s cultural wars. The county’s present population includes long-term local families, young professionals, artists, retirees and back-to-the-landers. While the county is wired into the 21st century, many individuals understand it as a place where one can continue to resist modernity and be as “off the grid” as you want to be.
Madison County is not for everyone. It requires new skills, new tools, and new ways of interacting within your surroundings. It takes a rethinking of community and how one relates to it. And while that singular reason for being here – that idea of refuge – is almost universally felt throughout the county, there are also clear points of conflict. Zoning, land use, politics, religion, culture, language and many other beliefs and opinions offer potential for fracturing within the community, pitting newcomers against locals.
These photographs are not representative of the entirety of Madison County’s population or my work from the region. Most of the images are recent, while some are quite old, among my earliest from the county. These early images didn’t fit with other projects, but they are integral to this one, offering glimpses of a place that many continue to think of as unmapped, one of refuge and resistance.
These are the dynamics of ShatterZone.
A Few I Like from the 5th of July
For the last four decades, the folks at Indigo Bunting Lane Farm – Paul Gurewitz, Gary Gumz, Laurie Pedersen and Soren Gurewitz – have hosted an annual 4th of July party. Always held on the Saturday closest to the 4th, the party is the ultimate celebration of community. Paul kneads 100 pounds of pizza dough, makes sauce for 300 people and provides a wood-fired oven. Party-goers bring the toppings of their choice. Volleyball and horseshoes, walks to the river, live music for dancing, as much visiting as you can stand and fireworks always make for a truly exceptional day.
I haven’t missed many of these parties over the years. I remember the first of them in 1975. For me, it’s a time to see old friends, and meet their grandchildren, and reacquaint with folks I only see at the party.
As I age, I see more and more people I don’t know. People new to the community, or from Asheville, and some from farther away. Many young couples are there with children and I love the inter-generational sense of it all. I wonder how all these new folks make it to the party. What brings them to this hard-to-find ninety acres, set deep in the mountains? What brings them back year after year and causes some of them to stay forever?
I think about this a lot. I believe it has to do with the expansiveness of the day – the joining of disparate, yet kindred people –if only for a day, and the feeling that all is well. But also, the party offers a symbolism that speaks to our wider community. The knowledge we live in a special place – a fabric of many threads, made stronger by the singular nature of our strings.
For Paul, on his sixty-fifth Birthday on Thursday. Thank you for years of friendship and for just being you.
Paul manning the pizza oven, July 5, Anderson Branch 2014
Laurie Pedersen (left), the Keyboard Player from the Band and his son (right).
Don Gurewitz (left), Mary Eagle (right).
Untitled, Anderson Branch, July 5, 2014
Holly Cosby (left), Tommy, Holly and Matt (right).
Living Portrait Series- Kelsey Green Part 3
The Asheville Citizen-Times continues its Living Portrait Series look at my friend, Kelsey Green. Here is the link to the Citizen-Times website: This week I've included the whole piece on my blog instead of simply linking to the Asheville Citizen-Times, but that link is:
Kelsey Herding the Sheep to the Barn for Worming, PawPaw, Madison County, NC 2014
I have a strong drive. And I think my mom was a big influence in this. When you say you’re going to do something, you’ve got to do it. You’ve got to pursue it. It’s something I might be good at, but it’s also something I’ve been working on for a long time, doing the things that I say I’m going to do from start to finish. See things through. It’s something I struggle with as well. If I have a dream or a vision and I feel in my heart that’s where I’m supposed to be, that’s my destiny, then that’s what I’m going for and that’s why I am where I am.
The first time Tommy and I connected we were sitting on a rock behind his house and I thought he was so cool because he lived in the nasty Redmon house that had no electricity or running water and he was pooping in a bucket. He was considered a “dirty boy.” I thought it was really cool and I thought that’s the direction I want to go. You don’t need running water. You don’t need a flushing toilet. We sat down on a rock one day and told each other what our dreams were and what we aspired to do with our lives and they were very similar. We wanted to be able to grow our own food and be self-sustainable. Live off grid and do whatever it takes and work for it. Work for the things that you need to survive like your food and your water.
We’re both working really hard to make this dream we aspire to become real – it does cost money. The process of buying this raw land, it would almost be easier if the s___ hit the fan and we didn’t have to go to work every day and we joke about that. Sometimes we wish it would hit the fan and we could do barter and trade and work for other people and money wasn’t involved. We could actually make this thing happen more quickly, this vision. But as of right now, it is costing money so we work hard to earn what we need to not only feed ourselves and pay bills, but also to continue to put money into our place to make it so we don’t have to do that. Set ourselves up.
I think in the back of my head I had this vision and it wasn’t as clear as it is now. And going on the road trip and the lessons that I’ve learned have made that vision more clear. And now it’s a picture that I’m trying to paint and I’m in the process of painting that. It’s a twenty-year plan. It’s going to take me twenty years to paint this picture, but in twenty years I’ll get to sit on my porch and look at what I’ve created.
Kelsey Worming Sheep, PawPaw, Madison County, NC 2014
Living Portrait Series - Kelsey Green Part 2
Thank you to the Asheville Citizen-Times and Erin Brethauer for including my work in The Living Portrait Series. This Part Two of my five part look at Kelsey Green. Please click the link below to see the whole piece as it appears on the Citizen-Times website.
Kelsey Green at her Place, Chandler Cove, Sodom, Madison County, NC 2014
Dog Daze
Dog Daze, Marshall, Madison County, NC 2012
Born and raised in the suburbs, I don’t believe I had ever heard the term “Dog Days” until I moved to Madison County and heard farmers speak of them. They, of course, refer to the hot and sultry days of summer, usually in July and August, which around here meant tobacco time.
But according to Wikipedia, the term originated with the Greeks. The Romans would sacrifice a “red” dog every spring to appease Sirius – the Dog Star – which they believed to be the cause of the hot weather. The Dog Days were widely believed to be an evil time when the sea boiled, dogs grew mad, and men suffered from fevers and hysterics.
Well, my hometown of Marshall, in its post-tobacco present, has added a new twist to the definition and Friday, August 8 at 5 pm, marks the 7th Annual Dog Daze event in town. The event features music, food, and art walks with the main attraction being the Parade of Dogs from the island to downtown, which begins at 6:30.
Dog Daze is one of many quirky, playful and artistic happenings that seem to have overtaken Marshall in recent years. Scores of new people, bars, music, bakeries, bicycles and galleries have brought new life to our town, which had been languishing and mostly vacant for the previous three decades. There are people in the county who do not like the changes and I can understand their difficulty accepting what appears to be a foreign invasion. But evolution is never easy or smooth and if communities are going to thrive, evolution is inevitable and should be welcomed.
Who Would've Thunk It
Mens Room, Ingles, Marshall Bypass, 2014
So, I stopped at Ingles the other day, needing a few groceries and needing to pee, not an unusual combination of needs for me. There is something at Ingles that seems to cause my bladder to relax. Let's just say I'm familiar with the mens room.
Imagine my surprise and joy when I entered the hallowed chamber and was greeted by a colorful and warming bouquet of fresh flowers. My bladder loved it and, at my age, having a happy bladder is both welcoming and occasionally vital. They offered a sweet fragrance and an unsaid message that said, "We value you and want your stay at our store to be cheerful and bright."
Now, I've never known the Ingles mens room, even at the old Ingles across the street, to be exceptionally nasty or repulsive. I've been in some bad mens rooms in my day - a memory from a bus station in Mexico comes to mind - and Ingles has always been better than that. An unflushed toilet here, an overflowing waste can there, but nothing truly egregious. Rather, I would have described them as utilitarian, drab, dark, not places you necessarily want to linger.
But flowers, man, over the top. I envision men meeting there to chat over coffee, admiring the surroundings, combing their hair and checking their smile. Who would've thunk it. Certainly, not me.
Living Portrait Series - Kelsey Green Part 1
The Asheville Citizen-Times and staff photographer, Erin Brethauer, have included my work in their weekly Living Portrait Series, published every Friday in the Arts and Entertainment Section of the newspaper. This is a wonderful opportunity for me to join other local photographers in presenting glimpses into the lives of some of our region's residents. I've chosen to portray the same person throughout the month - a family friend and young back-to-the-lander, Kelsey Green.
Kelsey, PawPaw, Madison County, NC 2012
Muck
Mucking Barn Stalls, PawPaw, 2014
I’ve been mucking barn stalls for the last couple of days.
An hour or two a day for two or three days about gets it done.
Sheep, goats, and chickens we have now.
Not as waste-producing as cows or horses.
I was about to say more manageable, too,
but that ain’t true.
I generally don’t mind the work and
find it uniquely satisfying. I love the physicality of it.
The pitch-forking into the barrow, wheeling it to the compost heap.
The absolute earthiness of it, the sharp freshness of the smell.
The very essence of life.
The clean energy it offers our garden and pasture.
The humbling it brings to my muscles and mind.
I take a break and think about fracking.
Industrial mucking, of a sort.
You know, the gouging of the earth.
The use of millions of gallons of water.
Untold toxic chemicals pumped into the ground.
The forever question of what to do with the waste.
Documented dangers and hazards.
Like poisoning peoples’ water supplies.
Releasing carcinogens into the air.
Noise and light and traffic where once there was none.
And for what? Money, of course. But jobs, they also say, as if to appease.
Oh, and energy, power - we’ve got to have that.
These politicians and technocrats do whatever they want.
Now saying they can come onto your land and
build roads and drill, without asking.
Can just show up at your front door and do it.
They ain’t looking out for you and me.
Makes me so mad I could spit.
I do.
And go back to my mucking.
It's far cleaner work.
Kate - 23
Kate, Happy Birthday on this your 23rd. May you always play in the dirt. PawPaw, Madison County, NC 2013
(click on photograph to enlarge)
Seldom Scene - Devony Shelton
Devony Shelton, Cutshalltown, Madison County, NC 1984
In my last post I spoke about my time with Home Health Nurse, Susan Moore, and this photograph was made during the same assignment. We were visiting with Devony Shelton and her husband who was terminally ill. She had been caring for him for many months and Susan provided support and a willing ear for Mrs. Shelton's concerns.
Sometimes on assignments such as this one, a photographer will make images he knows will never be published, mostly because they don't fit with the story. I sensed this was the case with this picture, but knew it was one I needed to make.
She said she had cut her hair only one time in her life and I asked if I could photograph it. The request pleased her and we walked together to the porch of her single-wide where the angular lines of the trailer provided a contrasting backdrop to the flowing elegance of her hair and posture.
The photograph wasn't used in the story and to my knowledge this is the first time it's been published.
Head of the Spring
At Our Spring, PawPaw, 2014 05 08
Our Dirt
Dirt in our Garden with Potato Plant Shadows, PawPaw, 2014
I love our dirt.
I love most everything about it.
The things you might expect – its smell and texture.
Its touch and the way it sifts through my fingers,
staining them as the soil itself, a reminder.
I’ve had to learn to love our dirt.
It’s not intuitive with me, like it is Leslie.
As a child, cleanliness was valued, dirt avoided.
Hands and nails checked for telltale signs,
washing more of a religion than an actual need.
It took moving here, to the mountains,
to rid the aversion from my life.
Gardening and working tobacco changed that.
Animals, and firewood, and just plain digging.
Now, dirt is everyday, and usual.
I love it under my nails.
How it turns the tips dark.
If you suck on those tips, you taste it.
Grit on your teeth, going down in a smooth swallow.
A cocktail of sorts.
Our dirt is clean.
No chemicals for twenty-five years.
Manure, compost, cover crops, leaves in the fall.
It’s rich. You dig in to a feast of life –
worms a plenty, worms galore.
Garlic in our Garden, PawPaw, 2014.
We grow a small garden now,
we used to grow much more.
To eat food grown in soil you’ve nurtured is
one of life’s true gifts.
I think, “Fresh spinach in the early spring.”
I read about children today,
not knowing where their food comes from,
like me when I was young, but more so.
It’s sad to be without dirt, to lack intimacy with it,
to not know the primacy of its role.
And the bacteria and germs, the stuff that lives in dirt - now they’re saying all that stuff is good for you.
It builds resistance to disease.
Dirt makes us stronger, they say.
I hear my mother, “I don’t believe a word of it.”
Seldom Scene - Easter Party 1982
Collecting Eggs at the Skemp's Easter Party, Wool Branch, Madison County, NC 1982
Yesterday, John and Vicky Skemp hosted their annual Easter Party at their home on Wool Branch. For those of us geezers, it was a reminder of the passage of time. The children in this photograph, our children, are now in their thirties, many with children of their own. As always, the party was a time of renewal also, a chance to see old friends, and make new ones.
Marshall Metal
Jamie Paul, Josie and Greg Moser of the metal band, Crook, in downtown Marhsall, 2014
They handed out free earplugs at the drink table.
A sure sign it would be louder than anything the old man had ever heard.
It was.
For him, a beat that didn’t translate into what he thought of as music.
Shrieks and wails and notes held maybe a might too long.
The crowd loved it. What did he know?
Left, Josie Mosser, Right, Greg Mosser, of Crook.
Guests on American Bandstand would have said,
“It’s okay, but you can’t dance to it.”
I might give it a five out of ten, the old man thought.
But the others, oh, the others.
Mesmerized, heads bobbing, eyes glassed.
Hands clutching warm PBR, as if a modern communion.
Marshall, 2014.
Marshall, 2014.
It was all so new to the man and
He wasn’t sure he liked it.
Still, there was no denying the power, or the appeal to some.
He thought, how could this be in this small town?
Legendary home to ballads and old-time and bluegrass.
A place where the sidewalks roll up at nightfall.
Hot Mess Monster playing in downtown Marshall, 2014.
It’s evolution, he thought.
New people, new ideas, changing times.
And I’ve got nothing against change.
But, what did he know?
ShatterZone - a Fiction: Pickin' Maters with McKinley
McKinley Massey, Big Pine, 1981.
We don’t start until 9:30 or 10,
late in the day for farm work.
Even then, the plants are heavy with dew,
our clothes soaked before we finish the first row.
It’s the usual crew.
Mckinley and his two daughters, their husbands,
a neighbor and his elderly parents.
And a few hippie types, I don’t know why.
The men drink warm PBR throughout the morning.
How do they do it and still work?
They do.
Never missing a beat.
Finished Picking, from left, Chuck Durdin, Jeff Johnson, Mckinley Massey, Ish Massey, Charles Massey, Jerry Reed, Big Pine, 1981.
Ish, the old guy, is mostly there for the beer.
He smokes a pipe, which he packs with a mix of PA and pot.
He doesn’t pick many maters, but he’s funny
and everyone likes having him around.
There’s a constant banter in the field.
The daughters are hilarious.
The talk occupies the mind,
distracting you from your reality.
Culling and Cleaning, Big Pine, 1981.
Hot, muggy, and dirty best describes the work.
Maters coated with a toxic layer of chemical poisons.
Only way you can grow ‘em around here, McKinley says.
My eyes itch and I cough a lot.
He’s a bit of a renegade, McKinley is,
maybe contrarian is better.
Beyond skinny, consumptive almost, but stout,
with long ropey muscles and huge hands.
Picking done, we go to the house for dinner.
Pearl, his wife, has laid out a feed.
After, a short rest, and then back outside,
culling, cleaning and packing.
Dinnertime, Big Pine, 1981
I do this for a couple of summers,
two days a week throughout the season.
At first I think of it as school, learning ways of man.
By the end it’s more about being a neighbor.
Up the Creek
Clinton Norton Waiting for the School Bus, Sodom, Madison County, NC 1977
Rob Amberg's essay for the 5 part Oxford American Symposium titled Portraying Appalachia.
http://www.oxfordamerican.org/articles/2014/mar/26/living-creek/