DRAWING LIFE by fred hatt

2013/08/24

In the Presence of the Watcher

The Watcher at Night, 2013, photo by Fred Hatt

The Watcher at Night, 2013, photo by Fred Hatt

The Watcher is a life-size figurative sculpture that overlooks a quiet path in the woods at the Brushwood Folklore Center in Sherman, New York. It’s been there for six or seven years, but coming upon it, you’d think it had been there for centuries. It seems to grow out of the land, manifesting the spirit of the place.

The Watcher, front view, 2009, by Fred Hatt

The Watcher, front view, 2009, by Fred Hatt

If this is a wood nymph, it is no pale, delicate fairy. The Watcher is rough and gnarled like an old tree, an embodiment of life force that survives the lashings of seasons by twisting and toughening and enduring.

The Watcher (back view), 2009, photo by Fred Hatt

The Watcher, back view, 2009, photo by Fred Hatt

Bellavia is the artist who created The Watcher. For many years she has been a strong presence in the creative community of the festivals at Brushwood. A few years ago she moved from Western New York to New Orleans, but still returns to Brushwood when she can. (Click on her name above to see other artwork by Bellavia.)

Bellavia, 2004, photo and face paint by Fred Hatt

The Watcher is made is made of bronze, pine, burlap, organic matter, fiberglass resin, bone, and cast glass. Parts of it are cast from a live model, Liag, who is a friend of the artist. Liag told me “I have felt an attachment to The Watcher since I first saw Bella’s sketches in 2004.  The process of me becoming part of the sculpture, my torso and arms and hand, was profound.  I feel she is now part of me.  I sense her presence within and around me all the time.  She is alive.”

Head of the Watcher, 2009, photo by Fred Hatt

Head of the Watcher, 2009, photo by Fred Hatt

I asked Bellavia if she designed the work in advance or if it emerged from experimentation. She replied, “I had a rough vision of the piece when I started. It turned out a little like the sketches but so very different at the same time. The piece itself takes over at some point and brings itself to the front and I just become a conduit for it.”

Hand of the Watcher, 2009, photo by Fred Hatt

Hand of the Watcher, 2009, photo by Fred Hatt

She said the Watcher “was not made with brushwood in mind. I don’t work with places in mind for the work. I simply could not move her down south with me and I felt like I really wanted to give something back to the community at Brushwood.”

The Watcher, upper body, 2009, photo by Fred Hatt

The Watcher, upper body, 2009, photo by Fred Hatt

For Bellavia, the work is about female identity and body image. In an artist’s statement, she says:

As a human who happens to be a woman I am all too aware that public opinion and disapproval is something that we are still essentially bound by. Our societal teachings about the many aspects of “self” are generally distorted and inaccurate. I am interested in presenting the viewer with a look into those distortions and offering glimpses of the possibilities in transforming that fear of disapproval or censure. My personal modes of perception towards the meaning and substance of life in all its complexities cause my work to be up close, personal and visceral. My artwork is exploration as a process of defining/redefining an image of the self and body. Oftentimes beautiful, dangerous and disturbing, a palpable presence arises from my work. There is always a hint of darkness underneath the beauty, completing the circle of light and dark. My work is daring, and shows courage, grace and beauty in being willing to challenge normal assumptions about sexuality and boundaries. I am very upfront about the assertion of ones sexuality and exploration of such. I am often my own subject, facing myself, my past and my demons. I endeavor to show the transformation process that starts in the soul towards a new definition of the self. This artistic process brings a freedom from the weight of prejudices, traditions, and custom and the healing from that lies not in distancing myself from it, not in attempting to heal it, but in embracing the experience as part of being alive.

Eye of the Watcher, 2013, photo by Fred Hatt

Eye of the Watcher, 2013, light painting photo by Fred Hatt

Many people are drawn to spend time with The Watcher, and a sort of altar has grown around the base of the sculpture. I feel a power in the work, and I’ve occasionally tried to capture some of its spirit in photographs. This summer, I used The Watcher as a model for light painting. Light painting photographs are taken in the dark with a long exposure time, during which I move around the subject with flashlights or other hand-held lights, applying strokes of light to bring out aspects of the form or to suggest energy within.

The Watcher with Wings, 2013, photo by Fred Hatt

The Watcher with Wings, 2013, light painting photo by Fred Hatt

The video below is made up of some of my light painting images of The Watcher, dissolving one into another so that light seems to move around and animate her earthy form. This is my personal exploration of the palpable presence of The Watcher.

The Watcher from Fred Hatt on Vimeo.

All of the photographs in this video are straight shots, with no digital painting or manipulation.

2009/05/10

Painting with Light

Arch, 1996, photo by Fred Hatt

Arch, 1996, photo by Fred Hatt

The word “photography” is derived from greek roots literally meaning “writing with light”.  A light-sensitive chemical emulsion, or, these days, a light-sensitive silicon chip, is altered when it is exposed to light.  An image focused through a lens, with an exposure timed by shutter, is only one possible way of using this process of writing with light.  For example, you may be familiar with contact photograms, in which objects are placed on a photosensitive paper or film and the light darkens the area around the object, with the shadow of the object leaving a bright shape.  In fact, some photo historians believe photograms were produced as early as around 1800. One of my favorite contemporary artists, Adam Fuss, uses the photogram technique to produce mysterious and fantastic tracings of energy.

Light painting is another one of those classic experimental photography techniques.  In light painting photography, you work in the dark.  The camera’s shutter is held open for a while, and you move a light source around, and wherever the light goes it gets recorded on the film or digital chip.  Nowadays it’s very popular to draw things in the air with a handheld light, LED or glowstick.  Back in the early 1990s there was a vogue for using fiber optics to apply light selectively to commercial still life arrangements to get a painterly look.

The lightpainter can walk right through the frame during exposure, and as long as the light is not directed at him or her, the lightpainter will not be recorded, because the camera records only light, not darkness.

I first started experimenting with light painting in photography of models in 1990 or thereabouts, but the early ones haven’t been scanned yet, so I’ll post those some other time.  I was interested in the process because it bridged the gap between photography and painting or drawing.  As in painting, the image is created by manual gestures over a finite period of time, but instead of making pigment marks on paper or canvas, one makes light marks, through a lens, on a photograph.

The first three examples here were made in 1996.  The model was Kristin, an ex-gymnast and one of my great muses of that time.  In the image above, the technique is used simply to place light selectively to explore the form of a pose.  Of course, I would never know exactly what I was getting, as you can’t see the result at the time you’re doing it.  In those days I didn’t see the results until after I’d hand-processed the black and white film and made test prints in a rental darkroom.  This aspect of working blind, and the surprise and delight at discovering the outcome, was something I loved about this work.  The light streaks in the lower area of the “arch” and in the upper right corner of the image above, are made by the hand-held light passing through the frame.

In the example below, I suspended a micro-Maglite from a string and dangled it above the model while twisting the string to cause the light to spin:

Smoke, 1996, photo by Fred Hatt

Smoke, 1996, photo by Fred Hatt

And in this one, I used a long camping lighter to draw streaks of flame around the model:

Triangle, 1996, photo by Fred Hatt

Triangle, 1996, photo by Fred Hatt

Below is a series of four triptychs, made by mounting black and white lightpainting prints together in a frame.  These were made in 1998.  The models are Laurie and Heather. Some of these images are sideways, and in some the models are on mirrors.

Earth, 1998, photo tryptich by Fred Hatt

Earth, 1998, photo tryptich by Fred Hatt

Water, 1998, photo triptych by Fred Hatt

Water, 1998, photo triptych by Fred Hatt

Air, 1998, photo triptych by Fred Hatt

Air, 1998, photo triptych by Fred Hatt

Fire, 1998, photo triptych by Fred Hatt

Fire, 1998, photo triptych by Fred Hatt

See more of my black and white lightpaintings here, and color lightpaintings here.

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