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MH is a blog and archive featuring artists who are interested in the ways in which humans interact with and experience animals and nature.

Bego Antón

Bego Antón

I think Bego Antón is one of my all-time favorite photography artists. Every time I see new work by her, I feel so charmed. Each of her photographs is composed and executed perfectly, and no matter the content (butterfly watchers, dead animals in the snow), there’s such an air of loveliness. If there’s not a smack of tragedy or some other complex meaning, there’s definitely humor, and that’s what really draws me to the series Everybody Loves to ChaChaCha. Truly, it’s not often that photography projects involving animals bring me nothing but joy, but these pictures just make me so happy.

From the artist’s statement: This is the story of women and men who dance with their dogs; and of dogs who dance with their humans. Musical Canine Freestyle is a choreographed performance in which a dog and a human move to music together. They choose a song they both like and a costume that matches the lyrics. They dance in unison, as dancing partners. They weave, jump, bow, spin, roll, walk backwards, forward or move diagonally. And sometimes, the bond between them is so strong that they enter the pink bubble, a dimension where they become one being and the rest of the world disappears.

Visit artist's site: begoanton.com

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Nina Young

Nina Young

When Nina Young introduced me to her work, my first thought was that it makes a good companion project to Miska Draskoczy’s Gowanus Wild, featured recently. Both artists inspect the contaminated industrial environment of areas in Brooklyn, New York, and its overtaking of nature. Young’s pictures contain bits of hope or signs of nature’s resilience, and there is a playful quality to them that I admire. I enjoy almost having to take a second to find the industrial element in each landscape, or to realize what is off in these depictions of fields and plants and pools of water.

From the artist’s statement: “Still Time” consists of photographs of brownfields: contaminated or abandoned land areas that must undergo environmental clean-up before they can be used again. I am driven to find whatever signs of the natural environment are left at these sites and include them in my photographs. I call this work “Still Time” because I seek to inject stillness and a greater sense of space and possibility into these areas. Perhaps there is still time for these places to be vibrant. To borrow from C.G. Jung, I hope to “uncover the potentiality of life which has been overgrown by civilization.”

Visit artist's site: ninasyoung.com

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Corbett Toomsen

Corbett Toomsen

When I was in middle school, I visited Yellowstone National Park for the first (and, so far, only) time. Even having grown up in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, I remember being blown away by all the wildlife my family and I saw. I shot several rolls of film on my little point-and-shoot camera, some of my first. It was a really formative experience for me as a young person interested in animals and photography.

When I saw Corbett Toomsen’s series Trophies, I instantly thought back to that trip, and not only because of the subject matter. The images have a playful and whimsical tone, as if the animals are about to be animated stop-motion-style. They remind me of being a child. The pictures seem unreal, and in a way, they are. The series, and in particular its process, makes me think about what constitutes a “real” experience with animals and nature, both in a country where nature is so controlled and in a time when taking and sharing photos is a way to prove you were indeed somewhere, you did indeed experience it.

From the artist’s statement: We take snapshots of the moments in our lives, and these images have personal value. The cultural value of the snapshot is that, collectively, they serve as a genuine recording of society from within. “Trophies” is my contribution. However, with this work, the photographs do not intend to serve as a recording of society from within, but as a reflection of the ways photography contributes to our experiences today. They investigate the personal process of embarking on a journey through impersonal sources, and represent an abbreviated sampling of a common cultural practice.

Imagery frames our expectations of things. But today, in an image-flooded world, the process of viewing imagery of places has also become a suitable replacement for the actual experience. “Trophies” is a series of constructed snapshots of a journey through the American West, specifically of places I have not visited. The project relies on mass-media imagery, both in print and digital formats. Days spent searching and gathering, one word at a time. And even more days driving on Google Street View, touring the back highways and National Parks fifty yards at a time – click, zoom! Stop!, click, zoom! Stop!, click, zoom! Stop! for hours on end – looking at the scenery the road and the sky. It inspired a search for documentaries about American history and National Parks and made me aware of the television programs I watch, sometimes photographing them to add to the archive. Each day I arrived in my studio, and immediately left – consumed by the familiar imagery of places unfamiliar, gathering as I traveled.

A powerful aspect of travel photography is its inherent ability to urge one ‘to experience,’ firsthand, but more so it urges one to make his/her own copy. From the gathering I re-enact the days traveling, construct places along the journey that I did not experience, rather merely visited; surrounded by sand and rocks and water and paint, surrounded by the tools that carved mountains from plaster, and the tiny paper animals captured along the journey. I am surrounded by artificial trees and die cast metal buses and glue. With flashlights and rags in hand, I am surrounded by the constant whirl of the projector, hunting the ideal image, and the missed opportunities. Within the darkness of my studio, the model lit just right, I transcend, if only for an instance, from this space I occupy to that place locked in the viewfinder, documenting the journey as journeys are so often documented – as a trophy of my experience.

Visit artist's site: corbetttoomsen.com

Found via: Lenscratch

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Lauren Grabelle

Lauren Grabelle

Lauren Grabelle has been making photographs for a long time. I remember when she emailed me about her work several years ago, I was so drawn to her series Natural Boundaries, which felt very “now” and fit right in with a lot of the work I was looking at (and making) – and I was surprised to learn that the pictures were made in the early and mid-1990s, all on Kodachrome. In more recent years, Lauren has been turning her camera to her dog, Sugar, and is now anticipating her first solo exhibition, Sugar Rising, opening next week at Washington State University (WSU) College of Veterinary Medicine, Pullman, WA.

One day in September 2015, Lauren’s Weimaraner, Sugar, became completely paralyzed in her back legs. I remember seeing Lauren’s updates on social media, feeling so sad for her and thinking that Sugar was probably old and simply nearing the end of her days (I was confronting my own pet’s slowing down at the time). But Sugar was only ten years old, and after she was misdiagnosed by three local vets, Lauren traveled six hours from Montana to WSU to take advantage of the medical technology available there, all the while worried terribly about the potential for expensive surgery, or worse, euthanizing her dog. At WSU, a neurologist pointed to Sugar’s MRI, which showed that she had a staph infection in her spine. After two days of antibiotics, Sugar was standing, and began to make a remarkable comeback from paralysis thanks to the MRI that saved her life.

Sugar is now 12 years old, hiking and doing the outdoor activity she loves. Sugar Rising is an overview of Sugar’s varied and adventurous life, including her slow, undiagnosed decline to paralysis and her complete recovery. Learn more about Sugar’s story on the Washington State University College of Veterinary Medicine website.

Sugar Rising opens September 7 at the WSU Animal Health Library and is on view through January 2018. An opening reception will be held Thursday, September 7, 4-6 p.m.

Visit artist's site: laurengrabelle.com

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Daniel Mirer

Daniel Mirer

When I saw this post’s featured image, Camper Landscape, Yosemite National Park, California, in a post on Feature Shoot about the winners of Ken Allen Studios’ spring photo contest (from last June), I knew that artist Daniel Mirer and I had something in common. I love the giant photographic murals covering the camper vehicles you see all over the West these days, and whenever I spot one, I try to line up the image with something in the landscape. I immediately reacted to Mirer’s photo, and visited his website looking for a series of similar images. I was so pleased to find Indifferent West, a project containing more than 70 photographs about the sentimental, cliche, kitsch qualities of representations of the American West.

From the artist’s statement: “Indifferent West” is a photographic and video series that investigates the personification of a North American identity. The American West and its touristic architectural locations are linked to a contemporary landscape as metaphors. Through this project, I photograph the found and sentimental representations of the mythic frontier of the American West. The images are of touristic sites; places that are of the familiar and cliché but also create a picturesque image of an Americana landscape. Through the institutions that perpetuate the mythic models through tourism, the results are that the American West is an idea that has become a vast site for elements of kitsch about a space intersecting with the comic and history ripe for consumption.

These photographs represent private entertainment industries for tourism projecting the notions of the exotification of the romantic, untamed, hostile wilderness, seeming lifeless and void, which becomes wrapped in mythology attending to what is called the American West. The “West” had become a place where the Lone Ranger, Marlboro Man, and the Noble Savage were invented and where they continue to reside in the collective cultural unconscious of the American cultural identity. The western landscape is re-contextualized from reality and is indifferent to historical facts establishing an American psyche of the make-believe, which has become a self-referent notion of ambiguity.

Visit artist's site: danielmirer.com

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Areca Roe

Areca Roe

I fell in love with Areca’s work several years ago, when I found out about her series Habitat through fellow animal artist Calder Kamin. I’m a sucker for square images, and I think the subtle, quiet, and mysterious qualities in Areca’s photography are so lovely. I first saw Areca’s later project, Housebroken, a few years ago and I can’t believe I’ve never featured it here. Like Tatiana Gulenkina’s series Second Nature, the images show atypical pets, but they’re in conventional domestic spaces. The pictures are odd, funny, at times off-putting, and very beautiful.

From the artist’s statement: For this project, I photographed unusual pets in their domestic environments. Over the past three years, I’ve photographed creatures such as snakes, hedgehogs, pot-bellied pigs, and ferrets in their homes. The pets are fascinating animals, to be sure, but their relationship with the owners has an element of ambiguity—it is not as clear and established as the companionship and comfort offered by dogs and cats. I explore the elements of these relationships, and the tensions that occur between the apparent wildness of the creature and its tame, domestic surroundings of soft textures and clutter. Conversely, some of the animals almost blend into their domestic surroundings, as if their camouflage has adapted to the new environment. I collaborated with the owners in choosing the photo locations, backgrounds, and scenarios within the home.

Housebroken is available as a book, which can be purchased here.

Visit artist's site: arecaroe.com

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William Finley & Herman T. Bohlman

William Finley & Herman T. Bohlman

Early last month, I attended a wonderful talk by the Oregon Historical Society in partnership with the Audubon Society of Portland, “Hunting Birds with a Camera: How William Finley and Herman T. Bohlman Used Photography to Save Oregon’s Birds,” of “On the Road with Finley and Bohlman: Portland.” The presentation was a retrospective on the work of early twentieth century nature photographers William Finley, Irene Finley, and Herman T. Bohlman, whose photographs and tireless dedication to education captivated the public and resulted in the protection of public lands across Oregon and the first laws to protect wild birds in Oregon.

Scaling trees, fording rivers, and braving Oregon’s most rugged landscapes, the team went to almost any lengths to capture Oregon’s birds on film. It was so fun to see not only the incredible wildlife photographs made but images of the photographs in the making, of Finley and Bohlman knee-deep in swamps or high up in trees, and of birds perched in the hands or on the shoulders of the photographers and the people around them. The scenes captured are almost unbelievable; depicted are certainly not the typical situations in which we can find ourselves with birds and animals in America today.

Finley and Bohlman left behind an astounding legacy of natural history photography and writing, land protection, and grassroots advocacy. More than 6,000 photographic images and 8,600 pages of documents – nearly 50 years of work (1899-1946) – are being released online from the collections of the Oregon Historical Society and Oregon State University. The Reuniting Finley and Bohlman collection on the Oregon Historical Society’s Digital Collections website is where the images featured here come from. I have spent hours going through the currently 3,565 (copyright-free, high resolution) images presented there, marveling at all kinds of gorgeous photos of animals in the West. Of course, I am drawn to pictures of dead animals, hunted and presumably found as carcasses and skeletons, but also curious images of humans and animals interacting in amazing, storybook-like ways.

Sources: Oregon Historical Society; Audubon Society of Portland

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Alex Grabiec

Alex Grabiec

When I first looked at Alex Grabiec’s work, I must have been fresh off seeing David Kressler’s Viewpoints series, because in my mind I paired the two together. To me, both projects explored similar themes – how we experience the natural world, the ways we sculpt and curate the remaining “wild” areas around us, the oddness of combining the man-made with the natural. It wasn’t until I read Grabiec’s statement that I began to pick up on another layer present in the photographs, one more sentimental and personal. I appreciate the series’ play on both “east” as a place and “back,” as in back and forth a particular distance on a regular journey or back in time, in a memory or a place that may no longer exist.

From the artist’s statement: This body of work, titled “back east,” is a group of peripatetic images that offer oblique hints to the transitory nature of place and experience. Photographed along a weekly four-hour commute between a professional life in Baltimore and family life rural Virginia, the series reflects on the desire for home and the resulting perpetual search for it. Within this personal narrative, interweaving subtexts of demarcation, construction, distance, and longing consider the relative ideas of ‘back’ and ‘east’ [and] in doing so [propose] that memory, hopes, and experiences are always in another time, and always somewhere else.

Visit artist's site: alexgrabiec.com

Found via: Lenscratch

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Mattias Amnäs

Mattias Amnäs

Like Miska Draskoczy’s work a couple of weeks ago, Mattias Amnäs’s photography had me thinking about my roots in photography. For my first project in a color photography class my sophomore year of college, I created pictures of “color boundaries,” spots that showed divisions in fields of color amongst the urban buildings in my new-to-me city. My images included a lot of fences, walls, telephone lines – and often funny sights in quirky Baltimore, not dissimilar from the geometric hedges and satellite dishes of Amnäs’s series, Scotland.

When Amnäs contacted me, he introduced his pictures from his trip “to the Scottish highlands, Glasgow and Edinburgh, were [he] documented the interaction of sheep, waste, nature and traffic cones.” Based on this text, I had to know more. Amnäs told me, “In early May, I went for a road tip in Scotland. It was my first trip to the UK and I brought my Pentax 6×7 from 1969 on my shoulder, along with 20 rolls of film. I was mesmerized by Scotland’s nature and architecture. Along the roads in Glasgow, you could see a city filled with quick fixes, buildings with facades that hadn’t been cleaned for decades, so much character. Along the roads in the Highlands, you could see all the litter of tourism, sheep everywhere, and the overwhelming usage of traffic cones. Something about it made it feel so surreal, almost like stepping in to a David Lynch film set.”

From the artist’s statement: I’m a graphic designer and photographer based in Stockholm, Sweden. I like exploring the visual languages of ar­chi­tec­ture, landscape and the interactions between people and their surroundings. I consider myself a documentary photographer rather then a conceptual series photographer. I don’t like to tell the viewer what the photograph is about, I want them to look at it and build their own story.

Visit artist's site: mattiasamnas.com

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Mary Shannon Johnstone

Mary Shannon Johnstone

I remember first being turned on to Mary Shannon Johnstone’s work by an instructor of mine back in 2010. I was photographing inside an old animal shelter in Denver that was about to move to a nice, new facility, and I had been passionate about companion animal overpopulation, adoption versus breeding, and the power of hard-to-look-at images for as long as I could remember. I saw Shannon’s project Breeding Ignorance, about euthanasia in animal shelters, and I was so deeply affected. The images were incredibly heartbreaking and at the same time very beautiful. I believed more people had to be exposed to work like this.

I was so excited to learn that Shannon would be presenting at the Living With Animals conference I attended in March (even more excited to learn that we would be meeting individually for me to review her work). In talking with and getting to know this wonderful artist, I learned of the struggles she faced in getting her work out into the world – how people viewed it as too gruesome, too difficult to face, too upsetting. With her more recent project, Landfill Dogs, Shannon has found an extremely successful solution. While the project continues to speak about the problem of homeless animals being euthanized, the pictures in Landfill Dogs are joyful and uplifting (so much so, in fact, that Shannon faces interpretation of her work on the complete opposite end of the spectrum – as “cute animal photography”), tender and emotional. I so applaud Shannon for pushing through the challenges and getting this work’s message seen and heard by the world. Landfill Dogs is a gorgeous hardcover book that can be purchased on the artist’s website.

From the artist’s statement: These are not cute pictures of dogs. These are dogs who have been homeless for at least two weeks, and now face euthanasia if they do not find a home. Each week I bring one dog from the county animal shelter and photograph him/her at Landfill Park, a former landfill converted into a public park.

The backdrop of Landfill Park is used for two reasons. First, the dogs will end up in a landfill if they do not find a home. They will be euthanized and their bodies will be buried deep in the landfill among our trash. Below the surface at Landfill Park there are more than 25,000 dogs buried. I think of this park as a burial ground. These photographs offer the last opportunity for these dogs to find homes. The second reason for the landfill location is because the county animal shelter falls under the same management as the landfill. This government structure reflects a societal value; homeless cats and dogs are just another waste stream. However, this landscape offers a metaphor of hope. It is a place of trash that has been transformed into a place of beauty. I hope the viewer also sees the beauty in these homeless, unloved creatures.

To date I have photographed 179 dogs from Wake County Animal Center in Raleigh. Of that group, 153 have been adopted or sent to rescue, 7 are still waiting, and 19 have been euthanized for various reasons.

Visit artist's site: shannonjohnstone.com

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