Spring by Summer ‘07 contender Sarah Claire Ahlers.

At first sight, I wanted to describe contender Sarah Claire Ahlers’ photographs as ‘feminine’, but that’s not what they are. With femininity there is a primary concern with beauty and aesthetics, which is not the case with Ahlers’ photos. Instead, I find them to be overwhelmingly maternal, since she appears to be taking care of her subjects through the photograph. Her portrayals of people are never sarcastic or intentionally ironic. She is kind to her subjects and depicts them in an honest, simple fashion, which in turn gives her a sense of integrity as their photographer. Nowadays, that’s a rare and refreshing quality to see in someone who bears the power of a camera.

The above photo of two young boys comes from a series wherein she followed and photographed one family. About this work, Ahlers explains:

Our lives are shaped by the circumstances and experiences surrounding our families. I am curious about the definitions and connections that bond a family together and make us who we become. I befriended and began photographing this family in small-town rural Massachusetts in 2005. I followed them closely through highly scheduled days filled with tasks that coordinate a family’s life and experience together,: sitting down for dinner, playing in the yard, band practice, family pets, and boy scout outings. The every day mundane–the small important points in time that make up our lives. My photographs document the routine and the unexpected. They are portraits of this family, their relationships, with each other and as individuals.

Sarah Claire Ahlers was born in Duluth, Minnesota in 1978. She attended the Rudy and Lola Perpich Arts High School, Minneapolis College of Art and Design, and the New England School of Photography. She is an editorial and documentary photographer currently living in Boston, MA.

The Hey, Hot Shot! deadline is fast approaching, so enter the competition before crunch time!

Wild Horses by Summer ‘07 contender Erik Hagen.

“In the past couple years I have seen a great deal of America in a transient way,” says contender Erik Hagen. “Cars, planes, motels, hotels. Ups and downs in a sense.”

All I can think about now is Simon and Garfunkel’s “America”, which is my favorite lyrical interpretation of America, more so than the interpretations offered by songs like Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.” (which is no less awesome, by the way,) or Don McLean’s “American Pie.”

Kathy, I’m lost, I said, though I knew she was sleeping
I’m empty and aching and I don’t know why
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
They’ve all gone to look for America

Hagen’s point of view on America is like that of a matured Huck Finn. It is adventurous and romantic, yet still proletariat and shrewd. He says, “I’ve seen America in a new perspective than in my youth,” and goes on to explain how his eye matured:

I had the privilege as a child of going many places in the country on vacations with my family. I saw the great national parks out west. I went to the Smokies multiple times, fishing for trout in small, stocked pools and panning for gemstones in fake tourist mines. Seeing the country in this way, the way so much of the middle class sees it, is to view a spectacle; it is grandiose and there is no denying the massiveness and the awesomeness of the spaces when viewed in this manner. As I got older this pure vision became stained, I went from my hopeful view of childhood to something more dark, truthful, and humble.

Having grown up in an immigrant family in Los Angeles, I’ve always felt somehow excluded from this kind of American experience. There’s this concept of a rugged American lifestyle behind Hagen’s childhood memories that make me ache so badly for the Grand Canyon or a fishing trip in Mississippi. Hagen says that the change between his childhood vision to his matured one reminds him of a Warren Zevon lyric:

When I was young
the sky was filled with stars
I watched them burn out one by one

“I feel these few lines best represent the feelings of my recent pictures,” explains Hagen. “A group of work where I point my lens at America with an awkward irony, and then celebrate it with all the glory my youth had shone upon it.”

Reading the Zevon lyric, I can’t help but be reminded of that famous Kerouac quote from “On the Road”:

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars, and in the middle you see the blue center light pop, and everybody goes, ‘Awwwww.’”

Both of those lines have striking images of bursting or falling stars–I guess that’s how I free associated the two of them. But, who better to quote on the topic of America than Jack Kerouac, right? Essentially, it was Kerouac and co. that made me realize I wasn’t an American outcast for not having grown up in the Midwest, via family car trips to national landmarks. It was through them that I understood America to be a concept, or more of a state-of-mind; America was also about about tenement rooftops and music–it included me. It was about finding a place for yourself, working hard, and enjoying life even harder.

Whew! Aside from all that America mumbo jumbo, I must say that I really like today’s photo, and I mainly put it up because it really disturbed me. I felt really confused when I saw it–confused about the point-of-view, the staging, the darkness. There is something really creepy about how this horse’s body is the focus of this image amid the darkness of the night’s sky. I have to say that I really can’t stop thinking of Peter Shaffer’s “Equus”, which is the story of a psychiatrist who is trying to treat a disturbed young boy who has a pathological fascination with horses. The play is based on a true story of a teenage boy who blinded six horses, and was recently revived in London this past year, starring Mr. Harry Potter (I mean, ahem, Daniel Radcliffe). If you haven’t read it, please do! It’s one of the best modern British plays out there.

Now that I have spewed out everything I have to say, I will leave you with a little more about Erik Hagen.

I am 22 but often say 21 when asked because I forget that i have turned 22. I grew up on a man-made finger island in Florida. The island sits in Boca Ciega Bay between St. Petersburg and Treasure Island. I spent most of my time as a child fishing. I attended an art magnet school from the third grade until I graduated high school. By the time it came to choosing a major at RISD, I was rearing to leave the studio behind and avoid the pretentious delusions of the painting department. Photography allows one to look to the world outside the studio for more honesty and intrigue than they could ever hope to conjure up locked in their own mind. I abandoned the notion of creating a tableau entirely, and instead sought to venture out into America, in order to find images that represented the thoughts I harbored about it.

And his inspirations? Hagen cites: William Klein, Daido Moriyama, Edward Hopper, Garry Winogrand, Lars Tunbjork, Joel Sternfeld’s “American Prospects”, Mitch Epstein’s “Recreation”, Gram Parsons, Richard Ford and Florida.

Bye-bye, now. And, once again, how many times do I have to tell you to submit yourself to the Summer edition of Hey, Hot Shot!? Just enter now. Thank you.

Iran Series - Lost by Summer ‘07 contender Afshin Dehkordi.

Burnt sienna wallpaper (or tiles?) + a bumblebee striped tee + a sullen expression in the distant center + an out-of-focus cigarette… What do these add up to? In my mind, I see a 70s era profile piece on a malicious crime boss. In actuality, this image belongs in U.K.-based contender Afshin Dekhordi’s new series of photographs on Iran.

Dekhordi moved to the U.K. at the age of three, following the Iranian Revolution of 1978. He began taking photographs as a teenager, after borrowing a Canon AE1P from his parents. From there, he created a makeshift darkroom at home and taught himself how to print.

The only other Iranian photographer I am familiar with is Paris-based photographer Abbas, who is a member of Magnum Photos. I first came across his photographs while visiting Istanbul this past March, at an exhibit called “Turkey by Magnum” held at the Istanbul Modern. Abbas, who photographed the revolution in Iran, published a book of his photographs and writing, called IranDiary 1971-2002 of his personal experience with the past 30 years of political turmoil in Iran.

As for Dehkordi, in addition to his project on Iran, he is also part of two contemporary, collective projects:

“Re-loading Images Berlin/Tehran” is an exchange of young artists working with media art, design and installation between Berlin and Tehran. It will include a preliminary weblog, a workshop, seminars, a final presentation and documentation. The exchange project will take place over a period of three weeks in both cities.

“Youth in the Countryside� is a European photography project in which 25 young photographers from eight European nations will work together. Topics attend to social/cultural differences and similarities, as well as the chances, changes and identity of young Europeans. The project creates a European network of photographers that contribute with their work to diversity, civil society and understanding among nations. The work will be presented to a pan-European audience through a touring exhibition and book.

Best of luck, Afshin! You all should try your luck this summer and apply now to the current edition of Hey, Hot Shot!

Elaine impersonating Tony, on the morning of her heart attack by Summer ‘07 contender CoCo Walters.

When I asked my roommate what this photograph reminded her of, she immediately said, “Florida”, and I agreed because that shirt is so Miami. Then she added, “Oh yeah, and Christmas.” And, I thought she was referring to the obvious red-green color combination, but then she added, “Because of, like, the polar bears and stuff.” Huh. First of all, since when do polar bears have anything to do with Christmas? And secondly, I’m pretty sure those are just plain, old teddy bears and that the toy manufacturers did not intend to adhere to the specific breed of polar teddy bears. But, understandably, my roommate is from Colombia. (They don’t have polar bears there.)

Trying to think of what this photo reminds me of, I came up with a few things. First of all, it reminds of those crazy distant relatives that we all have, who never had kids, so they dress up the stuffed animals they bought to keep around the house for when their nephews or second cousins eventually visit. Secondly, it reminds me of the kind of characters Diane Arbus photographed, kooky Coney Island-types. I also see this warped parallel thing happening with this Eggleston photo of the older woman on a couch.

Aside from its colors and all-around wackiness, the photo’s title, “Elaine impersonating Tony, on the morning of her heart attack”, was what really sparked my interest. So, I turned to contender CoCo Walters’ website to find out more. There, I clicked on “Seeing Red”, which is the series featuring Elaine, whom the photographer met by chance at Michael’s Arts and Crafts. In her statement, Walters acknowledges her initial curiosity for this weird woman and her even weirder house–the same curiosity that initially piqued my interest in the story. However, Walters’ statement beautifully analyzes how this striking persona developed out of a complicated life. I don’t want to give it all away, since you should read the statement yourselves on Walters’ site, but I personally like the part where on the morning of her heart attack, Elaine’s husband said to her, “I’m not calling the ambulance. That costs money. You do it.”

Reading about the contender, herself, was just as interesting as reading about Elaine.

I grew up in Northern Virginia and therefore, much to my chagrin, I do not have a slow, slurring southern accent reserved for those residing further south. Mostly I went to work with my dad, which began my love for the smell of sawdust, played pilgrims with my sister, and squirted water guns at passing cars while the baby-sitter was inside. I’ve probably taken the worst pictures of my life in Stafford, Virginia; maybe someday I’ll change that.

So, how did this big personality get her start in photography?

I got started in photography when I applied to the Yearbook staff in 10th grade with pictures I had taken the day before and that I had stolen from my sister’s scrapbook. They loved it.

Saucy.

Walters cites Mitch Epstein’s Family Business as one of her earliest inspirations. She understood “Family Business” to be a real personal project and goes on to explain how this affected her work:

As a student majoring in Photojournalism I never really felt like I had the chance to do a personal project, one that was solely about me and it’s something I’ve always felt like I was missing. But I’ve figured out that no matter who or what I’m photographing, somehow it shows me more about myself than I ever expected.

So, what else is there to say about CoCo Walters? Well, there’s her awesome flickr site and I think her quirky list of inspirations should sum it all up. Walters cites Ebola Virus, once again Mitch Epstein, boring pictures, bored people, and “staying as un-bored as possible” as her all-time obsessions.

So many people are entering the Hey, Hot Shot! competition! YAY! You should enter, too!

Covering the Set by Summer ‘07 contender Eric Hart.

When I’m not blogging or slaving away in a busy restaurant, my creative efforts are primarily dedicated to the theater. As an upcoming graduate of NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, I was lucky enough to have trained with the Atlantic Theater Company for two years and to have recently visited Prague’s prestigious Academy of Performing Arts.

Today’s contender, Eric Hart is also a man of the theater. Though raised on a farm in Central Pennsylvania, his theater work has driven him all over the place, “from New York City, to Hersheypark, Santa Fe, Louisville, and Ohio.” His massive flickr site serves as a testament to all the places he’s been.

So, what’s a man of the theater doing with a camera?

I bought my camera as a way to document my work as a theatre artist. Though I am largely self-taught as a photographer, my training in scenic and lighting design over the years has benefited me immensely as a photographer.

His photographs offer a satisfying behind-the-scenes sneak peak into the world of theater, but with a heightened sense of artistry in mind. Looking at his photos from the Santa Fe Opera, they seem to mystify the life of a theater artisan, whilst (like any good theater artist, director, or designer) creating a captivating story simply through the use of spatial relationships and lighting.

There’s this exercise we used to do in one of my movement classes called an “Open Viewpoints Session” that comes out of a technique called Viewpoints expanded on by SITI Company founder and director, Anne Bogart in “The Viewpoints Book”. It’s basically a loose-form improvisation where some actors move about the space while others watch, creating a dramatic event based off of impulses garnered by different factors like the actors’ spatial relationships. The point of referencing this improvisation is that while you’re in it or watching it, you naturally tend to create a dramatic story in your head all based on a confluence of events in the moment, like where the actors are in the room, which way they are facing, and whether the sun is shining light upon certain faces or parts of the stage. This is what creating theater is about. While looking at Eric Hart’s photos, that’s what I was doing in my head–attaching dramatic qualities to his subjects based on the way the images were set.

Hart talks about how theater and photography overlap in his work:

I started shooting seriously about three years ago with my first digital camera. I got it to document my own work as a designer and props artisan in theatre, and it quickly expanded to a full time pursuit. I like to capture the people and places that my life in theatre takes me, from my parents’ farm in central Pennsylvania, to New York City; from Louisville, Kentucky to the Santa Fe Opera in New Mexico. I think of my photographs as I think of my job: showing a world backstage which most people only ever catch a glimpse of.

As for the photo I posted above, I just love how epic it looks with that massive blue sheet looming in the background, that guy suspended in mid-air, and the sheet of water sweeping in below him. Mainly it’s that guy caught in mid-air, though. So epic.

That’s all folks. I better see some more new entries tomorrow, since you’re all about to click here and submit your photos to the awesome Summer 2007 edition of Hey, Hot Shot!

Lifeguard Station by Summer ‘07 contender Fran Minien.

I was stuck inside all day. For those of you who aren’t in New York, I have to explain that today’s weather was impeccable: it was warm, perpetually sunny, and not at all humid (as has been the case for the past few days.) It was, in essence, a perfect day. At least it was for all the Saturday strollers and lucky brunch-ers I got to serve from within the confines of my East Village restaurant.

Peeved by my indoor day, I was ecstatic to find relief in Fran Minien’s sunny seaside photos. The above image of a lifeguard station has enough color in it to make up for my entire day. I also checked out Minien’s collection of photos from the British seaside, which offer a beautiful glimpse into what he calls, “coastal culture.” I’m particularly fond of number 4–the image with the colorful tents crammed onto the shore.

Mr. Minien was born and raised in Reading in the U.K., to an English mother and a Mauritian father. After studying History and Media Studies, he decided to pursue a Masters in Photography, since it was the field in which he excelled most. Of his interest in photography, he cites a memory of her grandmother snapping away family photos and eventually buying Minien his first camera. He also cites the creative power he found in the medium:

I have always taken photographs, I have always felt that in gave me a sense of freedom to explore my environments, something I loved to do. The moment I realised the full potential of photography [was when it became] a way for me to communicate and engage audiences through what I saw and how I interpreted my vision. The moment the creative side took off for me was the moment I first stepped into a darkroom and realised the potential for my image making.

His influences (besides grandma)?

Some of the photographers who have inspired me and opened my eyes [on] how to look and explore these themes would be Don McCullin, with his work on the human condition, be it at war or impacted by war. In addition, the photographs of Eggleston and Friedlander provided me with a new way to look at taking photographs and the subject matter of what one is taking. They provided, along with Martin Parr, a way to view popular culture and its environments, a fresh approach with a creative and artistic view.

The above photo of a lifeguard post reminds me of my time spent on the beach in Tel Aviv during a recent trip to Israel. There, the lazy lifeguards just sit in their posts shouting at the swimmers through a megaphone, saying things like, “Hey, you! The boy who looks like a girl! Get outta the water!” (I’m pretty sure this was aimed at my well-coiffed kid brother whose blond locks make him look like a 9-year-old Rod Stewart.)

Anyway, I enjoyed looking at Minien’s seaside photos on a day like today. It’s nice to look at good pictures of the beach, especially when you can’t make the trip yourself. Sometimes, it’s even nicer just to look. That way you don’t get sand stuck in your bathing suit, or sunburnt, or have to schlep around all of your beach gear. In all honesty, a trip to the beach–especially when the closest one is Coney Island, is such a hassle. After a long and tiring day of work, I’d rather just sit back on my Manhattan couch and enjoy Minien’s bright blue seaside photos.

For all the rest of you, also sitting back on your city couches after a long day’s work, all it takes is a click here, a few words, and an upload for you to be entered in the Summer 2007 edition of Hey, Hot Shot! With only about 3 weeks left, you should really enter now!

home project 1 by Summer ‘07 contender Dan Boardman.

Reading the work statement of today’s contender Dan Boardman, I found myself drawn to his latest inspirations, which he lists as “Martin Parr’s boring postcard collection”, “all things Russian“, and (of course) “ponies off and on”. So, I’m down with Martin Parr (read Joerg’s conversation with him on Conscientious) and I’m into ponies (My Little Pony anyone?), but what I’m all about is Russia.

Aside from the fact that my parents and larger family are from all over the former Soviet Union, all of our family friends (writers, painters, and general alcoholics) are Russian as well, so I grew up surrounded by Russian cultural influences. From within my parents’ social sphere, I discovered two wonderful Russian poets who now mean the world to me: Anna Akhmatova and Marina Tsvetaeva, both of whom I later studied more thoroughly in this unbelievable class I took in Prague, called “Post-War East European Poetry: The Still Unborn About the Dead” taught by poet Michael March (read his syllabus here).

Anyway…while browsing through Dan’s flickr page, I found a lovely series called “from the motherland”, a work in progress of moody and diverse images of Russia. Then I moved on to his series entitled home from which the posted photo comes from. About this work, which came out of a series of trips to his hometown, he writes, “I found something static about home. In a front yard, or a parking lot I could find my feet stepping into my old footprints, but seeing now what I had missed then… This work was an investigation into memory, how it changes and what traces trigger a relationship between then and now.” These words share an interesting connection with the “motherland” images, since Russia is somehow (for me, at least) the be-all and end-all of homes, both physically and conceptually.

Dan, however, is not from Russia. At least his quirky bio doesn’t say he is:

I was born in Ontario, California and moved to a small town in Central New York when I was in third grade. My pop’s job moved him from UCLA to Syracuse University. I spent most of my youth like Tom Sawyer, (swimming, eating pancakes, faking my own death). In high school as a door prize at my after prom party I won a digital point and shoot. The camera had no screen and a mere 2-Mega Pixels. It held fifteen shots. I’m glad my Mom made me go to prom, I’m also glad I was nerdy enough to spend the rest of prom night with adult chaperones and teachers in the converted casino cafeteria.

He is now entering his senior year at the Rochester Institute of Technology. He describes his beginning with photography as an accidental introduction to two photographers:

When I first started shooting, a friend recommended me to slower.net. Which was incredibly inspiring and important in getting me to shoot everyday, and chronicle all the nooks and crannies of my day-to-day life. Around the same time another friend came back from New York City with Stephen Shore’s Uncommon Places, which he found at random on the side of the road, and gave to me. Stephen Shore opened up a world contrary to that of Eliot Shepard, and even though I didn’t fully understand Shore’s work then, it did, to say the least, mark the beginning of my love for formal photography.

That’s all for today, folks! Meanwhile, every single one of you should enter the competition now!

Winter Hit Hard by Summer ‘07 contender Lane Collins.

I was just listening to Elvis Presley’s Stranger in My Own Home Town, which led me to the following corny opening for today’s post:

New Zealand-based photographer Lane Collins is no stranger to the home of the Hey, Hot Shot! blog (you follow my lead?!). Her work has caught the eye of my compatriot bloggers previously and now she is back on the blog after this beautiful, autumnal photo of hers captured my eye. (Plus, I just noticed that she’s been keeping up with us as well on her personal blog, where she just featured a post on yesterday’s contender Liz Kuball!)

Her bio paints her to be quite the world-traveler: though raised in North Carolina and schooled in San Francisco, she has spent her recent years on the other side of world, both in India (where she travelled to in her last year of school) and in New Zealand, where she currently resides. Reading her biography and her work statement, in which she touches upon the expatriate’s struggle to merge contrasting cultural identities, I was reminded of my recent experience in Prague (where I lived and studied for four months earlier this year.)

These photographs are lifescapes — they are artifacts of a time when everything for me is uncertain except the familiar feeling of a camera in my hands. While the subjects vary from meditative to facetious, the imagery is from the same psychological vein. In moving from the United States to New Zealand, I’ve found myself searching for an identity within a new context while also struggling to reckon with and maintain ties to the life and home I’ve left behind. My photographs depict these themes as part of a narrative which is intensely personal and at times maybe a little bit strange. The series is ongoing.

Thinking about why I like this photo, I’ve come up with the following answer: Anthony Bourdain says that the best food reminds you of long-forgotten flavors, usually associated with your younger years. (There’s a great scene in “Ratatouille” where the uppity food critic experiences this and is transported back to his childhood home after one bite of Remy’s ratatouille.) Anyway, where I’m going with this is that Collins’ photo, “Winter Hit Hard”, reminds me of two things:

1. This old Juergen Teller ad for Marc Jacobs, which in turn brings up scent memories of vanilla and musk (random, I know.)

And, more importantly:

2. This train ride I took from New York to Boston one autumn when I was 17. It was my first time alone on the East Coast and when the train rolled through Rhode Island, I had never before seen such vivid, warm colors alive on trees. Growing up in California, I hadn’t experienced the radical shift in colors that occurs as the seasons change on the East Coast.

So, that’s what I’m pleasantly reminded of when looking at the image I posted today. In other news: enter, enter, enter all you future hot shot boys and girls!

59, 57, 55, 53, 51 by Summer ‘07 contender Liz Kuball .

To kick off the review of the Summer 2007 Hey, Hot Shot! entries, I’ve been looking at the work of Southern California-based contender Liz Kuball. Liz, who was born in Washington, D.C. and raised in suburban Michigan, writes that her photography “explores the excesses and deficits, hunger and satiety, loneliness and community in urban and suburban living.”

Whilst roaming about her dedicated photoblog, I ended up traveling to the website of a collaborative project she participates in (along with many other jb artists) called A Field Guide to the North American Family. The project is both a published novella, written by jb friend Garth Risk Hallberg, that features photographic contributions from a list of artists including Kuball, herself. The work can also be viewed on the website under different tags associated with North American family life, like adolescence or boredom. This project aptly fits Kuball’s work, which is filled with questions of suburbia that pertain to the North American family.

Looking at her photos, I am reminded of growing up in Los Angeles, a city of suburban culture built into urban sprawl. Her photos explore the concept of “storage space”–alloted plots of land or closets that we claim as our own in order to ensure a place for the maudlin junk we cannot bear to throw out, yet have no sensible place for in our daily lives and homes.

Between 1985 and 2007, the square footage of self-storage facilities in the United States grew 740 percent, and driving the freeways of Southern California, this growth is evident. This incredible expansion has been spurred by Americans’ accumulation of things, gluttony of the material form. As I drove by storage facilities, I started thinking about what was behind those garage doors and padlocks. It occurred to me that the warehouses weren’t full of meaningless “stuff”—they were the repository for all kinds of memories that people weren’t willing to part with. Old furniture inherited from the recently deceased. Boxes of old love letters. Books and LPs and photographs. In this ongoing project, I look for the beauty in these places, imagining what’s behind closed doors.

Well, that’s it for today’s featured contestant. All the rest of you better start jumping the gun, because the earlier you apply the better chance you have of getting some sweet words laid on you right here at the Hot Shot blog by yours truly. Enter now!

It’s prime Hot Shot season here at jen bekman and submissions are beginning to roll in. That means its about time for you readers to get a glimpse into what kind of Hot Shots are competing this summer. So, that’s where I come in. I’m Marina, a recent add-on to the jen bekman bandwagon and a new, enthusiastic blogger. You religious readers should remember me from a previous post I wrote where I introduced myself with great fanfare. However, if you don’t, I will benevolently forgive you and offer you this generous re-introduction. With Alice away traipsing around Europe, I’ll be filling in as your dedicated Hey, Hot Shot! newscaster. Stay tuned for daily updates on the competing photographers as well as announcements about the competition.

Meanwhile, for those of you looking to enter, you have until Tuesday, August 7, 2007 at 11:59pm to submit your work. So, get the ball rolling and enter the Summer 2007 edition of Hey, Hot Shot! here.