Keywords
Leslie Bastress
Bea
Pinhole
Photographer
Artist
Flickr
Black & White
120 Film, Medium Format
CK Interview
Handmade, Homemade
Creative Process
Paper Negative
Vintage Cameras
Darkroom
Alternative Process

CK → I'm not really sure when and how I first came across Bea's photos. But when I did, I was sure that this artist created from the heart. Her photos seemed to be a pure reflection of how she saw and interpreted the world around her. Words like, simple, sincere and honest came to mind when viewing her images. I enjoyed how her images felt like they were created and inspired by spirits of the earth. All made with this appreciation for art which is crafted by hand. I think you'll find her photos memorizing.

CK

Bea

Lets start off by talking about lensless photography.
How and when did you get into pinhole photography?
Do you have any personal philosophies about why you like to make pinhole pictures?

[ With the exception of an instance in elementary school when we were instructed on how to make a pinhole for safe viewing of an eclipse that day...] I really only fell upon pinhole photography within the past few years, largely due to stumbling across Katie Cooke’s pinhole work. I was smitten by those ghostly lingering trails and that aura like glow of the skin. Real, unreal, which? What? How? After doing some research on lensless photography, the history, the artists & work that came before, the mathematics, design, wavelengths, etc.. I was totally transfixed by it. To be able to produce such distortion, time and motion, to actually make the camera with my own hands out of next to nothing…..damn! The more I thought about it, the more it’s simplistic nature called to me…. I wasn’t looking, but I knew I had found something special, something that resonated with the primitive part of me. What really brought it all home was reading the first chapter of Eric Renner’s Pinhole Photography about Holed Stones or “Men-an-tols“. From my birth to the age of 15, I lived on the shores of a lake and as child began collecting holed stones (I still do happen upon, and collect these) and the sacred feminine symbolism in these stones was not lost on me, even at such an early age. In that instant, reading that page, I felt a sort of confirmation. The clarity that followed is hard to convey outside of my mind, but it was one of the most overwhelming and meaningful moments I’ve had in a very long time. I think I actually saw stars.



 As far as personal philosophies go, undoubtedly due to how and where I was raised, Art & Nature are completely intertwined in my mind. I see the aspect of pinhole photography that exemplifies that relationship. I mean, one can create a dark chamber out of wood, metal, ceramic or even a hole in the earth ( I wish I had a name of the artist, I spotted it in an old copy of Pinhole Journal) then capture light inside and produce a negative, from which a positive image is made. How much more simple is that ~ and by simple I mean concept, not simple in skill or technique. Adding an alternative printing process such as a cyanotype, and using the sun’s ray to expose and water to print it out completes this organic cycle. It’s so natural, alchemic, and honest. And I try to seek out subject matter that compliments the “complex simplicity” this process. Sometimes a photograph of a pile of stones is not showing us just a pile of stones…. sometimes it represents something much, much deeper. But art is subjective, no? and we will interpret however we choose to…but I do believe in the collective unconscious, the power of archetypes and man’s connection to the elements and tend to gravitate toward natural subjects that may induce some strange sense of primitive familiarity in the viewer.
 
It was Katie’s work that introduced me to and intrigued me enough to delve further into the mysterious world of pinhole photography. I think about that a lot, how chance moments can propel us in new directions…

CK

Bea

As everyone seemed to be rocketing forward with digital technology, you seem perfectly content with vintage analogue processes. What is it about these creative processes that you find so fulfilling.

I really enjoyed how you printed a cyanotype on a page from one of your Gibran's books. Please tell me about your love of alternative processes and how you use them to create these creative works of hand crafted art.

There’s a delicacy seen in Alternative processes that really appeals to me, and how a moment captured on modern negatives can be transformed into something that looks like it came from another era or another world. Beyond silver, there is a realm of possibilities to work with that allows you to present the final print in a way that compliments the subject. I liken it to playing music and having options in instruments, keys and tempos. ~ a piece for Cello is not going to have quite the same emotional impact if, say… played on a Zither. Working with the vintage processes has definitely altered the way I take photos. I look at the landscape differently now, and see views I normally would brush over. I think about the way in which I will present it as a whole, how it will look, how it will feel, as colors are so closely related to and can arouse emotions. Cyanotypes are my favorite thus far, with their range of blues and violets, I find absolutely spellbinding~ deep and moody, the colors of the sea, dark clouds, the midnight sky. Not too mention the fact that they seem to be the least offensive to the environment. And the Cyanotypes printed on old book pages? That came about through no planning. I was working on something for a friend when I realized that I had no paper for coating. Not wanting to break the work vibe by leaving the house, I started wandering thru the house looking for some hidden stash of papers when I came across some books I was giving away. The texture and yellowness of the paper ~ which I guessed might be indicative of an acidic state ~ caught my eye. So, I removed and used the plain pages, and then considering it was Gibran, I threw his text into the mix. It worked out ok, I think, and from there I’ve been tinkering with a series using old and odd ephemera from my past as substrates. Travel notes, maps, pages from dream journals, old love notes, newspaper clippings, seemingly insignificant scraps etc… better to turn them into something than to have them lay idly a drawer, almost forgotten.

  
Beyond the aesthetic quality of these processes , I really, really dig the fact that all of these can be created without most modern conveniences. Man, that is a powerful and comforting feeling to me. I can shoot paper negatives or sheet film in my pinhole cameras, develop, peel or oil the paper negatives if necessary, and make positives by contact. There is no dependency on enlargers or electricity. As long as there’s darkness and light in the world I’m good…
  
Not that I’m anti-computer ~ I’m not, otherwise I never would have come to know you, Chris or other great folks via that ‘big photo sharing site‘ and other forums. I only just got my first computer three years ago because someone gave me one. Digital photography and computer generated effects leave me cold. Wait, let me rephrase that. For me personally, working with digital photography and creating digital effects just doesn’t invoke in me any great desire as:
 
A) I’m graceful but flighty. I'm the kind of person who spaces out and leaves stuff on the roof or bumper of the car and drives away. Or drops the camera while crossing a river. Or gets distracted and leaves them in the yard overnight…. or for days. Or gives cameras away on a whim. If it’s a hacked low fi or homemade cardboard pinhole camera…. Not a problem, if I can’t fix or find it, I can hook up a new one in no time. I can’t do that with an expensive DSLR. It’s just the kind of person I am: Low Fidelity cameras fit my lifestyle. There’s a freedom that comes with using them. For more control over light and shutter speed I think my most “sophisticated’ cameras are my old Canon RM and a Mamiya C3 (which must weigh 6 pounds!).
 
B) Why buy and bother with photosh*p when I already have a darkroom? Albeit equally vintage as I’m using ancient gear including an old 1950’s Burke and James Solar enlarger which, by the way, someone gave to me after hearing that I love old cameras. That’s another phenomena that I’m sure a lot of vintage camera users have experienced ~ that many of older generation folks still have cameras they won’t toss out for sentimental reasons, but are more that happy to pass on to someone who might use them. I have met the coolest people this way, and I love to sit and hear the little stories behind the cameras. These folks didn’t come from a “disposable” mind set, which is fortunate for all of us who love vintage.
  


Ecologically, is there any benefit to digital over film? Is analog photography on the decline? I honestly don’t know, and I’m tired of all the debates. I say quit talking about it and go out there and shoot. I‘m going to keep using film and paper as long as it‘s around. I don’t dismiss digital photography. It’s taken photojournalism to a new level which I like, yet photography is still about one thing: the image. I don’t look at photo, first wondering “Gee, how was this made? Is this from film or digital?”. I feel first, then marvel at it’s making. I relate to art through emotions, and can always appreciate how work I find impressive or interesting was made. I just personally prefer the hands-on analog ways of doing it myself. There’s nothing absolutely inferior or obsolete about analog, as long as you understand your chemicals, and how to mix, handle and dispose of them properly.



You also may want to visit Leslie's alternative process photo gallery
on her website "Under The Amber Moon"

CK

Bea

Every artist creates for a art for different reasons. What are some of the reasons why you create your artwork?

Interesting question. I never really thought of ‘why‘, I just ‘do‘. Maybe it’s from being an only child and having a good amount of time and natural resources to myself in my earliest years of existence. I made a lot of mud and stick sculptures as a child, and would grind down a certain kind of soft red rock to mix with water and paint my body with swirls and streaks. I would weave tall dried grasses into structures and embellish them with acorns, dead bugs, feathers, milkweed fluff, animal hair, whatever I could find. I was creating my own kind of outdoor installation art, long before I even knew what “installation art” was ~ I was seven or eight years old. Maybe I was just trying to leave my mark on the earth, or maybe I was emulating the creations I witnessed taking place in nature. The changing of the season, the patterns of frost on windows in the winter, the papery wasps nests in the eaves, the ever moving clouds, the imprint of fossils in rocks on the beach, the circles made on the water when it rained. As an adult I honestly can’t tell you why other than a few short thoughts: to grow, to challenge, to share, to speak without speaking, to heal, to work thru something, to keep myself company, to show how I see the world around me, to define myself, and to keep in touch with that wild little hippie kid who slept outside a lot and caught birds with her bare hands…

  
It could be that as I get older, the quest to keep balance in this fucked up but beautiful world gets harder. So I create to affirm my stance against the military-industrial complex and corporate big box movement that are gaining ground in homogenizing this glorious world into something that is very boring, ugly and soulless. I create to put positive energy out there. To exercise my freedoms. To show that we don’t have to be “sheeple“. I prefer the unique and unusual, the eclectically handmade. To me, there’s no right or wrong way to create, only levels of skill and understanding.
  
So it makes no difference whether a piece of work is born from anger, destruction, sorrow, doubt, insanity, beauty, love, healing, etc ~ everyone of us experiences these feelings in the course of a life. Everyone chooses or not chooses (how) to express it. I think it’s important to have a respect and understanding of your medium and your tools.

CK

Bea

What types of things do you do to inspire you?

One thing I’ve come to know is that my creativity is cyclic. If I’m not feeling it, I’m just gonna let it be. I need the downtime. Life happens. I’ve had enough ups and downs bouncing all over this continent, suffering from wanderlust for the past two decades to know that I can’t force a feeling. I can’t outrun a funk. It usually works itself out naturally. But being out and exploring is what fuels my soul. I am a huge believer in fully engaging ALL the senses. I don’t mind if it’s a new city, state or country, I like to get out there and taste new flavors, hear other accents and languages, learn new songs, rhythms, stories, wear new fabrics, patterns and colors, walk on unfamiliar terrain, notice the local flora, learn the history, meet new people, see the reality, experience culture shock. I can’t get away as much as I’d like to these days, but wherever and whenever I can, I grab my packs and go (working with a simple camera fits into this plan nicely, as I tend to enjoy “low-fi” and "no-fi" areas).



And while I can't say that I’m big into viewing other people's photography specifically for inspiration, the level of prolificacy that I see others operating on and consistently producing compelling work is extremely motivating, whether they are photographers, writers, musicians, etc… I’m guess I’m almost hesitant to really claim any photographers as favorites or styles to emulate, for fear of some sort of similarities to arise, beyond the collective memory of our emotions, experiences, dreams. I'd rather feed my brain in a way that allows it to create it's own style, it’s own imagery. Or perhaps I’m just fooling myself because I know that thoughts and ideas waft about freely, waiting to come to fruition. Think about music, where there are only so many notes to play, sooner or later likenesses will arise. I’m drawn to photography and literature that reflect the outside struggle and inner turmoil of man, man against the machine, man’s relationship with nature, man’s strengths and weaknesses, the demise or evolution of the human spirit…. but I don’t think much of this comes out in my photos. Perhaps though, there is a sense of aloneness, which comes from a place of pure contentment, not unease or disharmony. I love my peoples, but I am a loner by nature.

Lately I’ve been revisiting Sally Gall’s Subterranea Series and Ljalja Kuznetsova Gypsies Series; reading more on Anne Brigman’s unconventional (at the time) methods; have been in total awe over Deborah Luster’s liquid silver emulsion creations; met another pinhole artist by the name of David Wise, who’s mesmerizing Far East and Egypt series could be easily be mistaken for late 1800’s work; filling my darkroom with music from Degenerate Art Ensemble, and exploring the art of Haruko Nishimura. -- Haruko Nishimura on YouTube.
 
and I am really looking forward to your upcoming interview with Bosse.
 
Other things that I can turn to for inspiration? Exploring ancient history definitely keeps me grounded, stimulated and ever curious. I’ve always loved everything about prehistoric art up thru the Bronze & Iron ages. The evolution of family, clans, villages, civilizations, goddess worship, hunting magic, burial practices, cave paintings and carvings, primitive tools, agriculture and harvest rites, adornment, cloths, weaving, trade routes, metallurgy, megaliths... [stonepages.com]
 

CK

Bea

Your photos feel right at home to me. I get the sense of family, friends and neighborhood in your photos for one reason or another.

Can you tell me a little about how you grew up and when you became interested in photography?

Hmmm.. Well, I am a 1970 creation of two very cool parents. The three of us lived a very rural existence on the edge of a lake, surrounded by woodlands. They were only 18 or 19 years older than me. My mother was an insanely beautiful young woman who always had some art project going on. Needlepoint, crewelwork, ceramics, macramé… all the stuff that was popular in 1970’s america. She kept a kick ass library (I grew up reciting Richard Brautigan and Tennyson), played piano, and loved to stack up the record player and dance & sing around the house. Between her and my father (wildly different taste, musically) there was always tunes, and a project going on in the house…. I definitely acquired my mom’s appreciation for music, art, dance, literature ~ maybe not the same style or genres, but she opened up a world to me that, growing up as isolated as we were, I might not have encountered otherwise. From my father I inherited resourcefulness and a fierce sense of self-reliance, independence.


My father had a pioneering/homesteading/survivalist attitude. He was into solar energy, salvaging & recycling and was always thinking of ways to get off the grid. We composted and had incredible gardens ~ enough to eat and enough to preserve for the long winters. When he wasn’t ‘working‘ on weekends, he was still working: He’d take me into the woods to collect firewood, and we’d spend an afternoon splitting and stacking the woodpile, or maybe we’d go canoeing & fishing on lake, or we’d go to the junkyard to sell the scrap metals we had saved, or he’d put me to work on a construction site. I loved it. I loved the feeling that came with looking at a finished task. We were a tight little crew. We had to be. And we had our share of problems just like every other family out there but it was so down to earth and very practical. * You figure out what needs to be done and you get it done. Period.* I take that to a fault, meaning I hate asking for help. I will spend however long it takes to figure something out by my own wits before asking anyone for help. And if it’s something I absolutely, positively get stuck on, only after exploring all possibilities will I ask for help. At least then I know I have made my best effort. I’m extremely stupid and stubborn like that, but I feel that if someone hand feeds me everything, I’ll never know what I’m are missing in the process of discovery. Failures can be valuable teachings. It’s the journey as much as it is the destination.

  

It wasn't until we moved closer to the outskirts of Washington D.C. that I discovered all that art was and could be. But what a great city to start in! To see it all in person was almost too much, but I relished it. The Freer, The National Gallery, Smithsonian’s, the Hirshhorn, the Corcoran ….on and on countless museums, galleries, cafes, clubs, live music, slams, gatherings, festivals, protests, seminars. I think that’s when I began to see Photography as a form of personal expression (Although I would eventually start college to major in Fiber Arts, I am completely self taught in photography & darkroom). Up until then, my exposure to photography was limited to my mom’s Rolling Stone and National Geographic magazine, i.e. very journalistic and documentary in nature. The Hirshhorn in the mid 1980’s and early 1990’s was my favorite place to be.

CK

Bea

I want to ask a question about things that are hand crafted. Darkroom processes, sewing, cooking...

 

To me, the mental, emotional and physical transformational process of creating is as important as what’s being created. Human Art, I feel, can be a microcosm of something much, much greater. No matter what your belief system is or isn‘t, we ARE here. We exist on some energetic level, we contemplate, we need, we desire, we create, we destroy. And I believe, without a doubt, that the intent, the energy put forth while creating/destroying is transferred into that which is created/destroyed. Cook a homegrown meal with love. Does it taste better to you? Do you feel nourished on a deeper level, knowing you grew and tended to those veggies as best you could, that you spent time among the rows weeding, watering and watching them grow? There is a mind-reality connection. The energy is there. Intent is everything. In your garden, in a meal, in a painting, in architecture, in words, in thoughts…. whatever you put your mind to.

  
And the handcrafted movement is about more than just creativity. It's about community. It's about putting your money where your heart is. It’s a lifestyle choice. It’s about bucking a system that tries to make us believe we have to buy the bigger, better, shinier, new, improved version every time we turn around or we won‘t fit in. Who cares about fitting into that rat race of a system? That system sucks. Literally. Sucking the brains, time and life force out of us. That’s just my own personal opinion, though. I’m happy not having a $200 USD cell phone bill every month and I’m content to drive an older car so I can buy more film & other supplies from my local ‘mom and pop’ camera shop. I like knitting with homespun yarn that came from Terry’s alpaca farm down the road, or serving an organic home cooked meal on dishes my friend Pat the Potter made. I like hanging prints exchanged with friends and forum acquaintances or the paintings I‘ve done on my walls. I like grassroots or self published books and homegrown music. Sure, it makes for a cozy home, but it’s also about supporting what I believe in and spending my limited and hard earned monies on other artists and craftsmen rather than some generic piece of mainstream crap from a far away factory of unknown or dubious labor policies, that may or may not be violating environmental standards. And if I need a black gallery frame, I barter or buy it from the guy I met at the local winery who does great work out of his house, but otherwise I’ve been making my own frames out of old barn and stable wood (sometimes I‘m lucky to find old thick, bubbly glass, too!). I salvage all of it while out on weekend road trips. Some of the structures have been dated to as far back as the American Civil war era. The way I see, after shooting with vintage cameras, using vintage processes with paper negatives I’ve taken the time to hand peel or oil, it seems a shame to put them into plain modern frames. It’s also nice to have a story behind the work as well…. the big red barn that fell down when the tornado hit….the livery that stirred up small town controversy when the owner was forced to raze it… the old mill that closed after the rail line became obsolete… I'm keeping some of that history alive in these pieces, whether people are aware of it or not.

CK

Bea

I'd like to talk about how images can evoke the memories or dreams from our minds. Maybe that's why photos albums are the first things people grab when their house is going up in flames. The memories in the photos are worth more than anything else in the house. There's something really beautiful about that. To know that a simple snap shot could be valued more than some old stuffy work of art.

 

I think we've all experienced hearing an old song on the radio, or have smelled an old familiar scent that jogs a memory and we are transported to another place in time. But a photo is something tangible that we can keep in our possession and can use at will. We can hold onto people and places that are no longer in our lives, or remind ourselves of who our ancestors were, who we are, who we were, where we came from, where we’ve been, what we have celebrated, where we want to go…. How many times have you heard a wrenching story of war, captivity or suffering where someone has a photo that gives them the strength make it thru another day, to survive, a reason to live? That’s powerful!


  
In the composite photo of myself with the poppies I see my great grandmother’s face. I had spent time with her as a very small child, but when I moved away, she was gone. Yet, every time I look at that photo, I see her strong jaw line & the bump in her nose, I hear her cracked voice, thick Hungarian accent, I remember her always wearing an apron, I can go into my memory and retrace my steps inside her house, I can hear the radio broadcasting Roman Catholic Prayers and Mass, I see the picture framed faces lining the sideboard, and the heavy peony blossoms teeming with ants by the kitchen door, I can smell her as she bends to kiss my cheek, I remember….
  
 And yeah, I have a cigar box in my ‘go bag’ that holds my ID cards, an address book, my great grandmother‘s ring, some stones, and maybe a dozen photos of family, friends, lovers, special places & events. A few snippets of a life that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else but if that box were all I had to start my life over with, I’d be happy.

CK → Even though I sometimes use digital tools to create my photos, I can relate to what Bea talks about in this interview. Every time I go backpacking into the back country and spend enough time to be "in" the wilderness, I feel a certain connection to the earth that I don't feel when I'm "plugged into the grid". I feel this sense that I need to "check-in"... or be connected to the rest of the world. But oddly enough when I'm connected to it, I somehow still feel remote and distant to the earth. It wasn't until I went out into the world to search for my dreams that I realized how wonderful they could be.

As one artist talking to another, it has been a pleasure to get to know Bea better. Her thoughts, words and pictures seem to fit together well. We had conversations about spiders making webs and making your own clothes with thread you bought from neighbors. That sense of community and living off the land are ideas I can appreciate and respect. From growing vegetables in your own garden, to creating your own camera and printing the photos within the comfort of your own home. Life, simplified by life itself. I like the sound of that. Of course that's not to say that life is simple. Growing your own vegetables and making pictures from homemade cameras can be just as complex and challenging. Thank you, Bea for giving us that feeling in your work. Artwork that would make any parent proud.

By chance I am posting this interview a day before the new moon which is on January 8th. This seemed appropriate in some strange way. Personally, I've always favored full moons, but I have learned from a friend who is a lover of astronomy that the best time to for stargazing is when the moon is dark. Just as art is subjective, so is a person's appreciation of what time of the month they like better. Darker or lighter? I also like the fact it's the start of the new year and this interview has made me do some soul searching. Knowing that sometimes our only limitations in life are the ones we put on ourselves. Thank you, Bea for sharing your thoughts and images with us. I know I have been deeply touched by them. -Chris

photos © 2008 Leslie Bastress, reproduced by permission