Dear Comrades, have I told you about Commie Camera Day?

“Pause briefly from your labors and I will share with you some exploits of glory in the name of International Commie Camera Day...”
— http://www.filmshooterscollective.com/
This is the Benefit St. Armory in Providence photographed with a Chaika half-frame camera. This is the building that I like to point out to anyone who will listen that was moved in 1906 (rolled on logs, mind you) to its present location in order to …

This is the Benefit St. Armory in Providence photographed with a Chaika half-frame camera. This is the building that I like to point out to anyone who will listen that was moved in 1906 (rolled on logs, mind you) to its present location in order to make way for the east side railroad tunnel, which lies a couple hundred yards to the south. The west portal of this tunnel was the site of the May Day "riot" in 1993, where some student partying got out of hand. This lead to the tunnel being sealed up. May Day became associated with the Communists in the 20th Century. Now that area is a parking lot. So it all comes together. Sort of.

I contributed a small write up about International Commie Camera Day for the Film Shooters Collective.

You can see the whole piece here.

The ghosts of edits past

Editing a project for a show or a book has it's stages, from shooting, which may continue well into the editing stage, to the initial selection from contact sheets, printing, sequencing, more printing and then on to book layout or exhibition hanging.

When it comes to sequencing, I've found no better way than working with actual prints, laid out on the table or the floor, shuffling and shifting until the rhythm is right. Digital or film, it doesn't matter, you need the space to see it all together flowing from one image to the next.

The hardest aspect of any edit is the cutting away of things you like and have become attached to. It starts out fairly easily but eventually you get to where it hurts, and you agonize over each choice. But choose you must and (hopefully) the sequence shows you what it needs most. The deadline looms, you convince yourself it's right and up it goes.

 

It begins...

Sequencing underway...

We have an edit...

On the wall for all to see.

On the wall for all to see.

You pack up the outtakes, hang the show, make the book and move on. Sometimes those outtakes linger with you, like ghosts popping in unexpectedly until finally you go back to that box and have a visit. Some, you admit you still like. Some give you ideas for new work. Thanks to the miracle of modern digital media you can put them up and excise your ghosts. And so I shall. These are outtakes from Canonicus' Bow.