Can you tell me why in the Pampas, ay and elsewhere, there are bats that come out at night and open the veins of cattle and horses and suck dry their veins, how in some islands of the Western seas there are bats which hang on the trees all day, and those who have seen describe as like giant nuts or pods, and that when the sailors sleep on the deck, because that it is hot, flit down on them and then, and then in the morning are found dead men, white as even Miss Lucy was?"
"Good God, Professor!" I said, starting up. "Do you mean to tell me
that Lucy was bitten by such a bat, and that such a thing is here in
London in the nineteenth century?"
From Bram Stoker's Dracula
Thursday, October 23, 2008
This is a photograph made at St. Roch in New Orleans this past spring while teaching a Photo Essay class down there....
About the saint himself: A french nobleman who gave up his wealth at a young age to look after the sick, specifically those affected by the plague. The story goes that he himself came down with the plague, went to the forest to die, and met a dog. Apparently the dog brought him food, and nursed him back to health.
Upon recovery he returned to his home town of Montpellier and was promptly arrested for spying. He was jailed and died in prison five years later.
He is known as the patron saint of invalids, and dogs...
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
I remember a photograph made by Dan Estabrook of his studio in the late 90's. It was the most frightening shot of a view camera I had ever seen. Dan explained to me the feeling of immobility in the face of trying to create in his studio. At the time I was incredulous at the fact...I thought if you have your own studio, everything must be great. Today I get it.
I made a similar photograph at Cranbrook in 2003...it has poignancy for me today as i strive to create new work. Everything you may want, or may be afraid of lie under that dark cloth, in that space that has been carved for light.