Into the Unknown
I left the first folio of prints on a bench at the Pennsylvania Military Museum. It was a sunny morning and only a couple people walking in the distance.
The folios are a selection of images from the photography I’ve done on the grounds over the past year. A creative exercise borne of the restrictions and isolation of the COVID-19 pandemic. I’m grateful to live so close to a place where I can freely walk without concern of contracting the virus from other people. And still maintain some sense of belonging in the world.
What Happens Next?
I have no idea. I hope whoever finds the folio will take the time to visit here and leave a comment. But there’s no guarantee that will happen. The folio may blow away, get put in the trash, or stashed in a drawer somewhere. And that’s ok. I just wanted to share a bit of the positive feelings I’ve taken away from the museum grounds. A small gesture of giving something back.
Part of me wishes I were a sculptor and could leave something more substantial. But for now I can only offer prints.
The Folio
This is it. Seven pigment prints on archival fiber paper, signed, dated, and inscribed with a description in pencil on the back of each print. There is also a colophon page inside the envelop which is placed in a Ziploc bag for protection from the elements and a rather stark “A Folio of Photographs” sheet visible in the bag to improve the odds it won’t be tossed as trash.
Who knows.
My plan is to continue placing a folio about once a week until I’ve placed ten. That will exhaust my archival paper, chew up a lot of ink, and perhaps provide some feedback on the project.
More at the Folio Project page.
The Images
The gallery above contains the seven images in the folio. I chose them from hundreds I’ve made over the past year. Click on an image to see a larger version.
You can view more of the work done at the Pennsylvania Military Museum.
If I were a sculptor…but, then again, no.” – Elton John, “Your Song.”
Wow. That looks fantastic, Steve. I love the idea of giving something your very best shot, and putting out there, seeing what happens next. Too many people are used to just phoning it in, knowing that there isn’t much they’re putting on the line. I’m hoping to high heaven at least one person feels just enough from those images to respond in some way, but I also feel that the process of creation of something like this is its own reward, the accolades simply a bonus if and when they appear. And this inspires me to try something in a somewhat similar vein, but nonetheless different. Here’s to bold exploration.
I think I’m going to have to temper the “what happens next” part. Could be whoever finds them won’t leave a comment. And that’s fine. I suspect after leaving ten folios someone will comment. Who knows. But I really need to focus on the creation and delivery and not worry about the reception.
As you say, accolades are a bonus but not the reason I created the folios. At least I hope not!
Bold exploration, I like that, with a camera, on two wheels, and in life!
Dude, I always thought this was a great idea. I’ll be the creepy old guy hiding in the bushes waiting for you to put the next one down somewhere.
Hah! The next one might be left on top of a tank!
I had an experience like that, but as a finder, rather than as the artist leaving the work.
In that case the object was a book.
My finder’s story is here: http://www.life2wheels.com/2011/10/senneville-time-warp.html and here: http://www.life2wheels.com/2011/10/thread-in-fabric-of-time.html
Overall it was a marvellous experience.
In an interesting twist, your gesture, leaving your work to be found, and your account of it here, rekindled my own experience and led me to share it here.
The is no telling where this adventure will lead you, and your finders.
The one thing I can say with confidence is that for someone it will be magic.
Well done Steve.
I read both your posts David and your experience finding the book and the subsequent conversations with Atmo is marvelous. I don’t know what will happen with my folios, and the cost of producing one will eventually be prohibitive, or at least not make sense, but I do hope they will open up some unexpected path.
The world is full of little experiences like this I think.
Regarding plaques, theft is probably why there are almost no bronze plaques at the museum. Everything seems to be etched in granite. Harder to make off with something that heavy.
Thanks for sharing your stories David. I’m glad I could read them.
What a fascinating idea! I look forward to seeing how it progresses. Thank you!
Me too. Like riding on a new road, it’s fun to venture into the unknown.
Bold exploration, I like that, with a camera, on two wheels, and in life!
Wonderful idea and execution Steve. I imagine stumbling over a gift like this would be inspiring and thought provoking well beyond the physical/visual enjoyment of the images themselves. I know that I would certainly enjoy tripping over a trove like yours. Enjoying too the square format of all but one of the images and the energy contained. 120 format cameras were mandatory when I attended college, absolutely no 35mm and I enjoyed a Mamiya C33 for several wonderful years. That lump and it’s format mentored a very different way of looking at this world. Thanks for another thoughtful post.
Thanks for your words of support. It’s nice to have feedback when I’m working on something new.
I’m surprised at how much I’ve warmed to the square format. It certainly didn’t begin that way. I too had a Mamiya twin lens reflex camera for a long time. Mine was slightly newer — the C330 which I purchased in the late 70s. It was an excellent camera.
Wicked cool photos Steve. I always admire people who can see things on a higher level and put them on paper…or kilobytes. I have several artistic photos of my thumb with an image behind them.
Thanks Jim. I’m satisfied at how the project has turned out. I’m still photographing on the grounds so perhaps another folio will emerge.
Nice one Steve, It has so many ways your talent can be used by who ever it is.
Thanks Mike. I was going to call you and forgot. Now I’m reminded!
Steve, I find your project creative and refreshing. As I continue to age and (hopefully!) mature, I have been gaining a greater appreciation for doing those things that I enjoy specifically for the peace and fulfillment that often comes along for the ride. But you have taken this a step further by passing your talents and skills along. It’s inspiring to imagine the unknown people who may be exposed to your art potentially impacted by it in positive and long lasting ways. At the very least, your stunning work may brighten someone’s corner of the world – and that alone is quite a gift – especially these days.
Thanks for the kind words about the project Andy.
Like you, I find that my appreciation for the things I love to do increases and deepens over time. Somewhere along the way I find a relaxed place to think about what’s next. In this case the folios emerged from my photographing at the museum grounds.
I hope someone finds some small satisfaction from looking at the prints.
Steve,
I found your folio on a bench a few days ago while walking at the museum. I brought it home to share the beautiful photos with my wife and we both admired not only your creativity but your generosity. You brought a smile to our faces and the hope that all of us offer a bit of kindness to others every day. Thank you so much…
Tom
Thank you for sharing your reactions to the folio Tom. I’m glad it brought a smile into your lives. The past year has been so strange that I think we all need some smiling. And the warmer weather helps too!
I wasn’t sure what would happen with the folios. I appreciate you providing some insight for me.