I’ve been meaning to write an artist statement for my Lumen Prints for ever, and I’m finally getting to it (an assignment to come up with an artist statement for my Graduate Seminar class certainly helped me get my butt in gear). I’d very much appreciate feedback, and edits, so please leave a comment and let me know what you think. Oh, and the assignment is due Wednesday, so no pressure.
An Artistic Study of Southeast Idaho’s Aquatic Vegetation
One of my first experiences in photography that I remember is of making photograms, where various objects such as plants, fabrics, pencils, paper, hands, are placed directly on photographic paper, which is then exposed to light. After development, areas where the objects were blocking the transmission of light are left white, or turn varying shades of grey, depending on how translucent the object is, and areas void of any object become black.
The Lumen printing process expands on the principle of the photogram, but skips the development step. Plants and other organic materials are placed on black and white photographic paper, then left to be exposed under sunlight. The sun’s intense UV light and solar heat react with the paper and plant, and the chemical make up of the plant and paper all combine to produce various colors (development after the exposure would eliminate these colors and render everything in black and white and various shades of grey); papers from different manufacturers react differently from one to the next, and varying exposure lengths affect the vibrancy of the colors produced.
It is a very serendipitous, unpredictable and liberating process. One never knows exactly what the results will be—some plants record their leave’s vein structure on the paper with great detail and exactness, while others wither very rapidly from the solar heat, leaving a “ghosted” image of itself on the paper as it shrinks. Through experience, one gets to know very roughly what colors will be produced by certain exposure times, but there is always something that had never happened previously—a new color is produced, chlorophyl from the plant is pressed into the paper—and is never again replicated. The ever surprising nature of this process is what draws me so intensely to it. I am allowed to put off the very exact, precise nature of working with the mechanical camera, and completely let go, and I find great joy and relaxation in that.