Last weekend I went to the Plaza Art Fair with “Stu” of “Stupod” fame. She is my oldest friend and we only need to tell the opening line of a story to collapse in laughter or nod solomnly as the endings are all in there.
While we wandered and caught up on each other and our families we stopped in on Albert Koetsier and his work is as stunning in person. But I happened upon another photographer as we whiled away the morning as well.
Cali Hobgood-Lemme was showing her gripping photos of, well, people’s things. I fell for them instantly and it didn’t hurt that the first one I saw was the stack of white shirts.
On her site, she talks about the origin of the piece, how these shirts remind her of her well-dressed father and how his shirts came back from the cleaners folded and pressed in a stack – the cardboard, a treasured prize. I think that is the natural appeal. They are the first sentence of the story that plays in your head the minute you see them.
Like when your chickens start laying eggs for the first time.
Or the office/guest bedroom where you stayed when you visited that held the typewriter that your sports writer grandfather used when he didn’t want to go back downtown to the paper.
Or that fabulous photo of your other grandfather in profile on his front porch in a straw hat.
Or your photographer father’s camera collection and how he’ll stand in the kitchen and tell you the stories of where he found each one.
And every book that touched your soul and made you see the world in a whole new way from your tiny, yellow bedroom in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
God you really know how to tell a story – breathtaking post. I love your blog.
Oh what stories these do tell, samples of life.
absolutely stunning work. love.
I, too, saw both these photographers and loved what I saw. In fact, I think photographs were the best part of the whole Plaza Art Fair. I can’t remember who he was, but there was a guy who framed large sepia-toned photographs against very textured backgrounds, almost like venetian plaster. I noticed that not many artists made their business cards available any more. . . I’m curious, Mrs. B: where in your home would you place these photographs?
Mary – I have a somewhat long, blank wall in my bedroom that I would love to have a grid or line of something. These would be great there. The shirts for sure, the bag, the umbrella and their was another piece at the show, but not on her site, of a manuscript. If I had to pick one, I’d choose the shirts for a gallery wall I’m assembling in the sitting room.
I love these little touchstones.
Another great post, today, Mrs. B!!
Mrs. B., have you read The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society? Guaranteed to make an Anglophile’s heart like yours beat faster, and remind you all over again why the love of reading is soul satisfying…
Great post, Patricia. The books have the most appeal to me.
Seeing CATCHER IN THE RYE in the stack brought to mind how that book provoked a storm of controvery in our high school English class when one parent decided it was far from the book du jour for teenage readers. It wasn’t so much the thoughts of suicide and sexuality as it was the use of the “f” word, as I recall, that deemed it unfit for our youthful eyes.
My mother pitched a little hissy of her own when she heard they were banning it from our reading list, and she insisted I read the copy I’d already purchased. As conservative and prissy as she was at times, she never liked anyone telling her what she could and could not read or could and could not do. My first important lesson in freedom of speech.
Yep, I’ll take the books, please.
Sheila
Probably not a single person who could not connect, to some degree, to a component of, or the broad appeal of her photography.
Really, something for everyone.
Not an anonymous qualityfeel to it like alot of photography has.
Oh, Mrs. B, wonderful post, as always. The Plaza Art Fair is so fun, and the art is fabulous. As is your writing, of course.
These feel quite Spade-like too. And so you. I love the books.
I also meant to add that your ending is so touching and strong.
Courtney – you flatter me to lump me into company like that – thanks.
Thanks for the time travel. I love the purse and the typewriter. Such evocative images.