As a youngster I argued for my first camera. Much to my dismay, my newly gained prize was promptly stolen. It was another five years, until I could afford a new camera on my own, when I started to “record” what I saw, looking for the drama I hadn’t, yet, learnt how to create. I came to understand that the camera, more than a recording device, is interpretive. I taught myself to focus on subjects – to exclude and subjugate, through managing the camera’s controls, less relevant elements within the frame. Consequently, my tendency is to objectify my subjects whether they are animated or inanimate.
In shooting “The Glassblowers” series I was surprised to see these artisans working in a brightly, neon-lit, cool and comfortable room. I found myself bored by the act of recording. I started looking for new ways to see them and their work – looking for, literally and figuratively, what was in their eyes and what was to be seen through their eyes ... seeking their passion. There was no drama to be had so the camera quickly lost its status as a recorder becoming, once again, an interpretive tool creating it’s own emotional and dramatic sense. (Ontario, Canada)