August in the southeast is a time to allow for liberal doses of indoor hibernation.  Days go by in the 90s without  a weather forecaster's comment about a heat wave....of course it's a heat wave...what's to discuss!???  It's is the obverse of winter time snow and ice up north.  Even its worst, though, there is still nothing to shovel, nor any reason to be housebound.  No...get in your car and drive to the mall...always 72ish, and comfortable.  Boring as it is, at least you can walk around.   

This past weekend  I visited Savannah with some friends to see a photography exhibit at SCAD.  It was a retrospective of the regional photographer, Jack Leigh.  Beautiful work shown in an exquisite city that can charm the feathers from a peacock!  The next day, I drove to Jekyll Island to revisit driftwood beach.  The weather was witheringly hot and humid, but I did the best I could nonetheless.  Here are two from that visit.

There are two more monographs I've obtained that I am enjoying a lot.  One is by the late Georgia photographer, Jack Leigh titled The Land I'm Bound To.  The other is by George Tice titled Seacoast Maine.  Both are vivid evocations of place, and both do it well.   Many of Leigh's photographs share themes with those of Tice, and there's no doubt that he's been influenced by that master, but Leigh is genuinely of coastal Georgia and is original and true to that subject.  I mention this because I need the influence too.  This flat Florida landscape isn't easy to photograph the way the rolling hills, and open forests of New York are.  Both Leigh and Tice use fog as an important filtering element, but that's not so common here.  Coastal Florida, though, has incredible clouds that form on many summer afternoons and often bring local downpours. The photograph here was made standing at the edge of the little roadside pullout where I found the bent over tree in my previous post. The clouds were not spectacular, but were good enough!

Until I feel ready to resume the Kingsley project, I will continue to look for other stuff to photograph here.  I've had the best luck along one particular drive that also brings me to the plantation road. It makes me a bit twitchy to drive past it,  but I'm forcing myself to wait while my imagination incubates what to do next there.   These two were made within a mile or so of each other.  It seems the best 'scapes here usually involve sky and water.  But sometimes, there are trees that compel a photograph as well.

Two things happened to me in the last two days that have had an impact.  One was a Charlie Rose interview with Sally Mann in which she demurred having talent, but acknowledged having tenacity.  To that end, she declared a willingness to rephotograph a subject as many times as it took to get it 'right', and then persistence in the darkroom to realize the best the good negative could surrender.  The second was the purchase of two monographs.  The first was 'here far away' by Pennti Sammallahti, and the second was Wynn Bullock, 'Revelations', a retrospective.  Their impact was to smack me upside the head about what it takes to 'make a picture', rather than render a negative.  Without Photoshop, these traditional artists bring drama and dynamic tension to what would be very ordinary images by intense burning and dodging.  Sometimes those techniques are so subtle you don't notice they've been applied, but the success of other images is entirely due to those blatant manipulations.

I'm in a learning process with the slave cabin pictures.  I need them to be much more dramatic, and that's not easy given what they are in reality.  Here are two that I've pushed to the edge of credibility, although they still look less than I want them to.  So, I may have to rephotograph the lot in a different way.  Tenacity and patience are the crucibles of progress. 

When the Kingsley slave cabins were inhabited, the area around them, and all the acres beyond were cleared for cultivation.  The riotous growth of flora in the interval from then until now is astonishing to a northerner who is accustomed to slow growth, and a minimal understory.  One would expect clutter, but whole forests of trees risen as these are is a phenomenon new to me.

Standing in one of these cabins on a hot, sunny day becomes very uncomfortable very quickly.  This is one of only a couple of frames I exposed last week when I preferred to stay in the shade and make photographs from a distance.  If I used a digital camera I suppose I'd be much less choosy about what to photograph, and 'shoot' a great many more frames.  But, with film, I take a lot of time to select subjects.  Despite the heat and glare, I took a while with this one. My shirt was wet when I walked away to seek relief under the shade trees nearby. 

More by accident than design, I drove to Kingsley chasing some gorgeous clouds and found myself stopping instead at the cabins even though I promised myself I wouldn't.  The weather is hotter than it was in May, but the light is still about the same...bright sun, and strong shadows, so I hadn't much expectation of anything looking different.  As I was inclined to stand in the shade, I chose to regard the cabins from a distance (although I also got into one and made some exposures there too.)  It's taken a long time to decide to include some of the contemporary settings for these buildings...particularly a palm tree or two, but they're there, so they need to be photographed.  The forested image is similar to one I've posted earlier, but different enough to present.  In the end, if I can only choose one, it will be nice to have several to pick from. 

I am no fan of palm trees.  In fact, I think they're rather ugly, and I am eager to fell the one that inhabits our front lawn in favor of a deciduous or some such leafy tree native to this area.  But, being the true softie that I am, I wouldn't take down our palm tree without regret.  And, when I come across one living a solitary life, I feel a degree of compassion.  Go figure!

As I've not yet lived here for one full year, I can't anticipate seasonal weather patterns as I could in New York.  But when there's 'weather' other than relentless sun, it's pretty compelling.  These three photographs are from the same roll as yesterday's post.  The first two were made as a storm was gathering, and the third as it cleared from my immediate area.

These photographs are the first in my respite from the Kingsley project.  Oddly, they were taken on the road that leads to the plantation, but not because I was going there.  However, that road is more interesting to me than any other I've discovered in this overgrown landscape with its impenetrable  jungles, and flat terrain that doesn't provide even minimally elevated points of view.  As looking to the land is so unproductive, looking to the sea and the sky is crucial, and celebrating interesting trees is a daily quest.

I think it may be time to give the Kingsley project a rest.  I could easily burn more film there, but a lot of those photographs would be tiresomely repetitious.  As I've never done a project like this, I'm curious to discover how patience and percolation will inform it when I return.  It may require the light of a different season, or a lot of rain, or longed for fog, or human presence to stimulate new images that are different enough to be included.  In fact, I just discovered that descendents of the enslaved residents of the plantation are well known to the NPS people who maintain the place, and they attend various commemorations and ceremonies that are held there.  Meeting some of them would be a huge thrill whether or not they ever were photographically a part of this work. Here are a final two for a while that I took on June 1st.

The range of textures among these cabin remains is extreme.   These restored walls have been stuccoed with a material made from sand and oyster shell based lime.  The National Park service (using volunteers, I think) has done some wonderful work with a few cabins whose walls now look as they likely did when new.  The lintels are impressive, too, as I think they may have been hand hewn at least somewhat after being sawn.  They look authentic anyway.   Originally, the windows would have had wooden shutters to keep out as much nasty weather (and flying critters) as possible. Sooner or later I'll make an appointment with the person in charge of the plantation to get my facts checked, although I've read enough to believe I've been fairly accurate. 

As strong and durable as tabby is, it is perpetually vulnerable to vegetation that so easily finds a foothold on its rough texture, and organic composition.  This is the only plant I've seen on any of the walls, and I'm loathe to report it to the rangers, or tear it out myself.  I don't think this one little guy will do any harm as long as he doesn't make friends with any newcomers.  I want to photograph it again in different light, but I had to be sure I had at least this one lest it be gone when I visit again.

Update:  I have replaced the photograph I posted with this one that is better I think.

One would think I could find nothing else to photograph given the persistence of Kingsley as my subject.  And, in a way that's true.  The last part of the trip there is visually more interesting than anywhere else in this area that I'm familiar with.  But, I am so intent on getting to the cabins I have ignored everything else that's interesting along the way.  I will insist to myself that that must not continue, and when something attracts my attention, I will stop and make a photograph if at all possible.  Nonetheless, here are some more of the cabins. 

 

Every time I finish a roll of film at Kingsley and pack up my kit, I see something I know I need to photograph the next time I visit.  I'm itchy in that way just now remembering something I saw as I was leaving a few days ago that I don't want to miss.  I go back and forth between abstracts and 'documents', but the abstracts are the most visually interesting. So, I'll probably return tomorrow, because I can, but I expect that will provoke yet another visit in the next few days.  Too bad I can't rent a room there, and encounter the place afresh every day for a while. 

 

In addition to the single cabin that's been almost entirely restored, there are several others that have been whitewashed with lime based stucco, and had lintels and brick fireplaces reconstructed or replaced (the lintels, I think).  The beams look hand hewn, and fit snugly on the tabby walls that support them.  Florida weather breeds mildew in abundance, so the 'dirty' look of the unrestored tabby is quite dramatic after one hundred plus years. The walls that have been stuccoed and whitewashed, though, are equally dramatic in their newly pristine condition. 

During my rainy day trip to Kingsley, I exposed two rolls of film.  When I posted the two pictures last Thursday, May 15th, I had not developed the second roll.  That was accomplished yesterday, and I like some of those images more than the others.  So, I'm posting a new one, and a different (wider) view of what I posted before that I think I like better.  If this were a website and not a blog, of course, I'd only post the one I preferred, but you may be interested in seeing both and making your own choice.

Ultimately, I'll have to choose the best of all I take during the year, and they will comprise the series I'll try to do something with.  I was beginning to think I'd end up repeating a lot of ideas, but each time I visit, I see something I hadn't seen before.  I want to go again when there's a lot of rain to explore one of those new ideas that didn't get photographed last week, but did get noticed.

I've been wanting to make a photograph within the lone, restored Kingsley cabin during heavy rain to capture the runoff from the gutterless roof.  It was finally possible today, and my luck was spot on as I arrived there, walked to the cabin, set up my kit, and framed a first image just as the rain began in earnest.  The cabins originally had wooden shutters, but the windows were glassless.  In summery weather, it must have been oppressively humid and buggy to live here..but,  the manor house was no less so in that era before even the idea of air conditioning existed.

 

This photograph may be the last Kingsley image I post for a while.  I don't expect to return there until there is a weather change that might include fog, heavy rain, or some unusual light.  It's all too easy to find abstractions that are enhanced by strong shadows, but they become repetitious and not worth redoing when they're too similar to what I've photographed already.  The other good reason to stay away for a bit is to let my visual impressions of the place ferment and ripen.  When I visit again,  I'll either see things with deeper insight, or with an entirely new viewpoint, but I hope I'll come away with something fresh. 

I've been waiting for a rainy day to make a particular photograph at Kingsley, and Friday, May 1st was such a day.  But, by the time I'd set up there was only drizzle, and the torrent of rain running off the gutterless roof of the one restored, model cabin just didn't happen.  So, another time for that.  Nonetheless, I trudged around in the light rain holding an umbrella over the camera and pod and found these.  It's good to photograph certain subjects in flat light as the contrast is reduced a great deal, but there is still plenty to deal with.