10.30.2008

within reach: change



















because someone keeps stealing my yard sign © kjm

I have refrained talking about the election here, for several reasons. For one, my editorial clients include newsweeklies and a certain newspaper of record - and even though most of the publications I work for wouldn't care, my old, straight journalism roots discourage too much public expression. (I had the pleasure of photographing Michelle Obama for one publication, and she was delightful.)

Another reason, and Marilu will confirm this, is that if I started talking about the election, I just might not stop (this would be the "don't get him started" argument). Lastly, though it may not always appear so, I try to keep the focus of this space toward my artwork and the spirit of creation - by myself, and by others.

All that said, this sign in my window reads "Obama/Biden."

10.28.2008

within reach: let them eat it




















uneaten
cake from the back of the fridge © kjm

[within reach is a series of photographs examining the environment of home in detail]

10.26.2008

close call











N. 76th Street Location, # 1 and #2 © kjm

I passed by this KFC the other day, and made it back today to photograph. Good thing - there were some contractors there tearing part the KFCness from the building ("we're removing the peak."). I'll be back to shoot this one again soon...

10.24.2008

as seen: outside, in



















conference room before a shoot © kjm

10.22.2008

within reach: streaks
























water marks on the southern windows © kjm

[within reach is a series of photographs examining the environment of home in detail]

10.20.2008

installation










© kjm

The opening of the Mary L. Nohl Fellowship show went really well last week, with a large and lively crowd in attendance. The catalog looks great - Karin Higa of the National Japanese American Museum in L.A. was kind enough to write an essay about the Camp Home work - you can read it here.

And I was really happy with the way the installation turned out (photographed today, while my mom looked at the work, above), and I'm happy I decided to have so many images framed. The idea for a grid, rather than a single line of photographs, was inspired by several things. 1. A map of the current farmland, which I use while shooting, details the homestead plots in large, mostly rectangular grids. 2. The original internment camp buildings were also laid out in large grids, and my aunt tells me it was important to remember your building number and section name (my dad's family section was called "Alaska"), in order to not get lost. 3. I like the physical experience of viewing the big group of photographs - most people seem to stand one place and take in the totality of the piece, before going in for a closer look. There's a subtle similarity to the way one experiences a historical monument.

10.18.2008

big world, small world



















stopped to make a picture, philip, south dakota © kjm

A week after the interesting vehicular experiences in India, I find myself on an equally bumpy ride with a rancher is his pickup truck. We're on a search for some of his cows, driving through beautiful South Dakota grasslands and silty streams. He's stops periodically to grab his binoculars ("that's either a tree top or one of my cows" ) and when we find some, he uses his curled fist to make an effective call, which gets their attention.

Earlier in the day, he mentioned that he had a roommate in college who was from Hawaii. I told him how Hawaii can be like a small town, at least to the older generations. If my mom meets another native of Hawaii, it only takes them a few minutes to discover mutual friends. So he tells me his buddy's name, and he's a little unsure about the last name (it's been 40 years), but it sounds similar to my mom's maiden name. So I ask him, could the last name be "Kimura?" Maybe. My mom says later, "Calvin Kimura? He's your relative." So Kenny the rancher, who I've just spent a long day with, was buddies with Calvin, my mom's second cousin, who I've never heard of or met.

One of the things I love best about my job is that I often find myself in places where I'm clearly out of my element. Being reminded of the underlying connections makes it even more exciting.

10.16.2008

tinytinygroupshow #7














In pondering a tinytinygroupshow about my favorite season, Fall, which is upon us in the upper Midwest, I started to think about other uses for the word itself. Among others, one can fall asleep; into love; down dead, or from grace. And a bit of musical inspiration - one of my favorite songs of all time is Yo La Tengo's Our Way To Fall.

[ tinytinygroupshow is a mini electroexhibit of photographs based around a basic theme. There are no gallery hours, price lists, commissions, lengthy wall texts or attractive gallery attendants. tinytinygroupshow is a place to have a brief look at some photography, by photographers known and unknown, in a manner that hopefully provokes a little thought. View past tinytinygroupshows here. ]

Note: you might need to click on your screen a second time to enlarge the show

10.15.2008

close (focus)
















© kjm

I brought my point + shoot along on the recent canoe trip, with hopes of not working too hard, but with the possibly of making a picture I could submit to the Times' Why We Travel section again. But alas, I don't use the camera enough, and spent the first few days making out of focus images of my buddies. I realized my error at some point, and spent part of the last day making some details around camp.

10.13.2008

on your left



















© kjm

Here's another attempt at describing the fascinating traffic in India. I shot out my window about every 10 seconds, during a 15 minute traffic jam in Udaipur. Since jetlag is still effecting my ability to figure out how to post a video on the blog (with any amount of clarity or quality), click on the image above or here to see a short video. Song (thanks/sorry) by Radiohead.

10.10.2008

home and awake



















frames, Udaipur, India © kjm

Back home now and trying to catch up - with Marilu(!), on sleep (23 hours of travel to get home), and on lots of emails. I'm really excited about the Mary L. Nohl Fellowship show, which opens tonight (6-9pm, if you're in the area). There will be 27 pictures from the Camp Home project in a large grid, and I'm excited to see how the installation turned out. I hope to make it through the opening both awake and slightly charming.

Inova will host an opening and reception to honor the Nohl Fellows on Friday, October 10, from 6-9 pm. Inova curator Nicholas Frank will give a gallery talk at 6:30 pm. Address: Kenilworth, 2155 N. Prospect Ave., Milwaukee, WI

John Gresl, Mark Klassen and Dan Ollman (Established Artists); Annie Killelea, Faythe Levine, Colin Matthes and Kevin J. Miyazaki (Emerging Artists)

10.05.2008

as seen: night and day











Jodhpur, India © kjm

10.03.2008

buckle up











© kjm

Until yesterday, I thought my most interesting backseat experiences had been in Istanbul. Marilu and I were there together and shared one hair-raising drive in a taxi; she spent another alone, emerging from the cab looking like she'd seen a ghost (her own). The traffic here is intense, not for it's speed, but for density and variety of wheeled and hoofed participants. They are masters of the merge, with lots of chaotic traffic circles and scooters flying into traffic from side streets. Best not to look watch too closely.

10.01.2008

ely to delhi (1 stop)



















ride to the hotel in delhi tonight © kjm

I arrived in India tonight to start a travel assignment, after just a day at home following the week-long canoe trip in Minnesota. The 15-hour flight from Newark wasn't as bad as I'd thought - and I realized that it's not necessary to pre-order a vegetarian meal on a flight to India. But because I was able to sleep so much on the plane, I'm awake and it's after midnight here. I leave early tomorrow morning for the city of Jaipur.

Two great meditations on the topic of jetlag: the movie Lost In Translation, most specifically the scene where Bill Murray arrives in Tokyo and peers out the car window; and a wonderful essay by Pico Iyer titled, Nightwalking, from his book Sun After Dark.