Nancy Rexroth (born 1946) is an American photographer noted for her pioneer work utilizing the Diana camera. In 1977, she published Iowa – the first printed monograph of work completed with a plastic camera (Wikipedia).
Her work was just acquired by the Cincinnati Art Museum (link).
I've been looking at her photography quite a bit lately after reading an interview with Alec Soth. He says he was influenced much by her work and said he owns several of her photographs. Long ago (in the 1990's), I got infatuated with toy cameras and used them quite a bit. Then I got interested in other things and put them aside. They've been sitting on the shelf since. Two days ago, I picked them up to look at them. They still had partially shot rolls of film in them. Hmm. I took them out and began shooting with them again. The old Diana camera takes 120 film, but shoots 4.5x4.5 images. You get 16 images per roll. When I finished the film, I took it out and found that it was Fuji Velvia, a positive slide film. There are not so many places that process slide film any longer. I wondered at what might be on the roll. I will send it off to The Darkroom, a film processing place in San Clemente, California that I've been told is top-notch. Curious as to what I shot so long ago in color.
I still have a couple shots left on the Holga. I don't think that film is as old. I'm pretty sure it is Tri-X, so I will be able to develop it myself.
Rexroth's photographs are beautiful and evocative, more about light and shadow than subject. I am going to begin using the toy cameras again. You can buy new Holga and Diana cameras from Lomography, but I've read that they are not the same. To wit. . . I just bought a "brand new" 1960s Diana still in the box, never used, on eBay. The Diana 150. Screwy plastic lens with all sorts of imperfections. I will shoot with it for awhile since I've spent a million dollars on Leicas and lenses, and on medium format Hasselblads and Mamiyas and Rollieflex. There is nothing more appealing than a plastic camera when you have all that.
I'll show you the results soon. Probably. Maybe. We'll see.
ReplyDeleteAn Elegy for Ernest Hemingway
by Thomas Merton.
Now for the first time on the night of your death
your name is mentioned in convents, ne cadas in
obscurum.
Now with a true bell your story becomes final. Now
men in monasteries, men of requiems, familiar with
the dead, include you in their offices.
You stand anonymous among thousands, waiting in
the dark at great stations on the edge of countries
known to prayer alone, where fires are not merciless,
we hope, and not without end.
You pass briefly through our midst. Your books and
writing have not been consulted. Our prayers are
pro defuncto N.
Yet some look up, as though among a crowd of prisoners
or displaced persons, they recognized a friend
once known in a far country. For these the sun also
rose after a forgotten war upon an idiom you made
great. They have not forgotten you. In their silence
you are still famous, no ritual shade.
How slowly this bell tolls in a monastery tower for a
whole age, and for the quick death of an unready
dynasty, and for that brave illusion: the adventurous
self!
For with one shot the whole hunt is ended!
Merton read Hemingway?
DeleteDoesn't everybody ? At least one time in their life? I'm not sure you can trust someone who hasn't.
ReplyDeleteCan you?
Can you trust Merton?
ReplyDelete