#artist spotlight
Kevin Abstract Arizona Baby Concept Poster
Every season, RPD changes its background image and features a new work from a photographer. Information on all of our photographers can be found on the Contributing Artists page. For Autumn 2015, our background image comes to us from photographer Courtney Coles who found RPD via twitter! Below, Courtney tells us how she got into photography and shares some of her other work with us.
My parents were my introduction to photography. Amateurs who enjoyed documenting the lives they shared with their children, every family vacation was either filmed with their old VHS camcorder, captured on my mother’s Polaroid camera or various disposable cameras. As I got older, I got into the habit of getting disposable cameras for class field trips. After a while, I started saving up money just to get cameras to use for my everyday life at school. When my 14th birthday came around, my parents saw that I was serious about photography and bought me my first digital point and shoot that year for Christmas. And, in short, that’s how I’m here. I’m a documentary film photographer. I’m the daughter of two humans who just wanted to remember everything.
A reoccurring theme in my work, aside from self-reflections, self-portraits and portraits of my friends and family, is photographs of interiors- mainly windows, bedrooms and bathrooms. I’m constantly trying to define and dissect “home” and that is why a good portion of my archive is of various spaces that are part of a physical home.
I spend a lot of time indoors. Even as a child, I was never one to go outside and play. I always wanted to read a book in my room or take a bath while listening to music or dream of an alternate life while looking outside windows. The images used here are photographs that were created in the midst of chaos. They calmed me through the storm.
One thing I am intentional about is the use of film when creating images. Though I am capable of using a digital camera, the love and attention to detail is something I’m more aware of when using a film camera. I could go into great detail of how I’m in love with the process, but what I feel like most people forget to mention is that it is all subjective.
Growing up terrifies me. I’m a few weeks shy of turning 26 and I’m still trying to find my home. Photographing the journey has helped me hold it together.
Rosie McFarland sent us a story she was told by a 23-year-old Haitian man named Calos: a powerful memory of losing his most prized possessions forever when he was four years old. We were curious about what happened after the story ended, so when Rosie suggested we interview Calos for a feature, we jumped at the chance. Below you will find Rosie’s story of how she met Calos, our questions for him regarding his tale and his current life in Haiti, and photos of him and other Haitians that Rosie met during her time there.
- Jen Lombardo, Non-Fiction Editor
Calos is all muscle and smiles. The muscles create an intimidating first impression, which is why he is great as security for Haiti Bible Mission, but when you start talking to him, he smiles. His huge smile lights up, crinkling his eyes and warming your heart, and the intimidation quickly melts away. He is the sweetest guy, and loves going to school. While I was there he was doing math problems that surpassed me long ago. He teaches himself English by listening to audiobooks, and loves stories.
I interviewed and collected stories from 30 people in Haiti, including Calos, for the book Seeds in a Dark Fruit Sky. Calos has many amazing stories to tell, and he would find time to sit and talk to me even with his busy schedule. Near the end of my time there I started reading The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe out loud for the group, which he loved. I enjoyed talking with him, as his English is actually very good. He is quite modest though, and will smile, waving a dismissive hand saying, “No, not that good.”
I got the idea for Seeds in a Dark Fruit Sky because many of the people that I got to know there, including Calos, have wonderful stories to tell but no platform on which to share them. Whether it is because of stereotypes or a lack of fluency in written language, the voice of this small country is often overlooked or unacknowledged by the wider world. The English manuscript for this book is currently being written, and will be verified by each storyteller with a translator before being translated in Creole. It will be published as a bilingual book to help people like Calos. They will be able to teach themselves how to read in another language, which will show Haitians that they are not alone and that they have beautiful and complex stories to tell. This book is expanding the way we can share stories, and it is a way to keep these stories firmly connected to their roots.
Q: After you had to bury your marbles, did you and your friends find different games to play or did you have to sit around and watch everyone else keep playing?
A: I was really sad for a while watching other people play marbles. Really, really sad. But one of my friends had a soccer ball and we played soccer and basketball.
Q: Did you ever dig them up and play again?
A: No, I did not dig them up again.
Q: You taught yourself English partially by listening to audiobooks. How long did it take before you could carry on a conversation? What was your favorite audiobook?
A: After two years of studying with audiobooks in English, I was able to hold a conversation for thirty minutes with someone in English. My favorite audiobook was “Learn How to Improve Your English.”
Q: When you were four, marbles was your game of choice; as a 23-year-old, what do you do for fun?
A: I play basketball and soccer, but I like soccer better. I also like watching TV for fun. I also hang out with my friends and play the piano.
Q: What do you do for work?
A: I am often the gatekeeper on the Haiti Bible Mission compound and provide security for the mission. I also play piano at the church.
Photo captions:
1: Calos (photo property of Haiti Bible Mission)
2: The author with several children from Te Wouj, Haiti
3: A group from the Haiti Bible Mission
4: Two girls in the Te Wouj school
This month we published two nonfiction pieces by Amber Schmidt, both with dark themes. “The Stag” told of a dream encounter between a ghost and a stag in the woods, while “My Release” detailed Amber’s struggle with self-harm. When Amber told me that she had also written songs along the same lines, I jumped at the chance to pair them with her pieces as a sort of soundtrack to what she had written. Below are three of her songs and lyrics: “If I Stayed,” “Mary, A Prayer,” and “Can’t Be Trusted.”
-Jen Lombardo, Non-Fiction Editor
If I Stayed:
https://soundcloud.com/modestjune/saturday-11-20-pm
If Satan was my partner and he wants to go dancing, would I be a fool to stand upon his shoes?
If Lucifer was a lover, loved me more than another, would it be alright if I stayed?
If I stayed..
Take me in your strong arms
Take me, I have no alarms,
Bars are always better after dark.
Lucifer walks with me, even when I disagree.
Tells me that he’s gonna do me harm.
If I stayed… If I prayed.
___
Mary, A Prayer:
https://soundcloud.com/modestjune/mary-a-prayer
Mary oh saint, I was told I should pray for a reason or savior or grace,
But it’s dark and it’s ugly and raw and unclean,
Oh the pain, but I swear it is sweet.
I could go from sunsets, from warmth all around,
To the pain that consumes and drags me to the ground.
And I pray for something to rest my weary soul,
And I wish God was real, I don’t wanna drink alone.
I’m mad, gone mad, too dark for this,
And I pick at my nails and I daydream of death,
Of driving towards water, cold black swallowed whole,
Or flames in my bed burning, burning me raw,
Of a ghost pulling teeth or of me all alone,
Or long haggard hands tearing flesh from my bones.
Mary oh saint, I was told I should pray for a reason or savior or grace,
But it’s dark and it’s ugly and raw and unclean,
Oh the pain, I swear it is sweet.
___
Can’t Be Trusted:
https://soundcloud.com/modestjune/trust
Careful what you say,
Can’t you hear the calm of February call you home?
It calls me home.
Careful what you say,
Don’t you know that I cannot be trusted?
Careful with who you play,
If tears could bloom, I’d plant them all in May.
If promises were cemeteries,
I would plant silver dollar at the place where I was from, and all alone,
Don’t you know that I’m not really here at all?
I’m not here, can you hear my call?
If promises were cemeteries.