out of the darkroom

Gretjen Helene is a little like the motorcycle she rides: Free. Infiltrated by the open air, and breathing in all of her surroundings – because there’s no room for windows in life. Understandably, her photos are very real. They embody the essence of living, with its differing emotions. Some are funny; some are giddy; some are despondent. But what they share is a particular fervor for taking it all in.

“Things that fascinate me inspire me to photograph them. It can change with the wind but I’ll step into almost anything that I don’t understand or could take the risk to be involved in,” she said. “If it’s exciting I usually want to see what it could be like to be right in the middle. Taking a motorcycle journey from Boston to Alaska to San Fransisco, going to Cuba, or spending a week in the sandy wind-blown desert at the Burning Man Festival…all invigorate my sense of adventure and intrigue.”

Now 29, Helene spent the first 18 years of life in Fairbanks, Alaska, where she attended Catholic school for a bit. “[It was for] the proverbial “experience” that my mother wanted. It was more…than the Catholicism itself,” she said. “She always wanted my brother and I to experience vast and various things to have a good perspective on the world.” Throughout those first 18 years, Helene adopted her mother’s perspective on perspective: She traveled throughout Central America, Ecuador, Russia and Greece – gathering images, experiences and memories.

But Alaska, in its pristine, glowing glory, was the perfect place to capture beauty on film.
“Deep in the heart of the winter…everything feels completely still and barren, with the snow glistening the soft colors of twilight. This is a magical time every day. It looks and feels like Mars with a gray hue cast. The snow doesn’t just land on the surface of things, but rather collects in hoar-frost on the sides and undersides of everything, creating a winter frosted wonderland. It’s all quite enchanting and dangerous…like a beautiful but wicked fairy tale.”

Helene said the camera began to settle at her hip by age 13, after her dad passed down his old basic one. The arts, in general, became a big part of her life – and she left for Boston after high school, to study theater at Emerson College. But after one year of school, she took on a little more perspective again – traveling to Nepal and Thailand with her camera – and after returning, she realized she was more focused on the images and experiences abroad than the rush of the stage.

After one of her Nepal photographs received an award, she switched to The Art Institute of Boston for her degree in photography. The school hired her to teach a class to other students for three years following graduation – a rewarding position, but one that became a distraction from her own work. So, Helene took a bold dive into the realm of professional photographers, and found that she swam well.

She’s spent the time since mastering the art of invisibility.
“I’ve come to realize that when I completely lose myself behind my camera and then reemerge feeling nourished and enlightened, I’m a photographer. The hours pass like a waterfall, exciting and constant, and I’m still visually stimulated and satisfied creating what intrigues me, and exploring how it intrigues me.”

Looking outward, she’s intrigued by the work of Sebastiao Selgado: “[He] sits at the head of the table of people I would like to have dinner with before I die. His moments capturing beauty and horror can balance your mind within a split glance and let you rest within the image forever or, take it with you.” And the great August Sanders, for “his casual ability to collect the common people without the self-awareness that can be too obvious sometimes in front of a camera.” Helene holds Diane Arbus in high esteem as well, for her raw and shocking portraiture.

Of her own photographic (and possibly life) philosophy, Helene phrases it in her eloquent way:
“”Water” could be a sport for some, or for others a burden, a scarcity, a breeding ground, an energy source or maybe a necessity. Yet all fall within the boundaries of each individuals understanding of ‘Water.’ It seems to satisfy my desire to bring the world closer to understanding various perceptions that live far from their understanding.”

View more of Helene’s work on her website:
www.gretjenhelene.net

Jason Liu’s photography is not easily defined. Take one look at his portraits – and the lighting, color and shadows all draw your eyes into their depth. They’re seductive and hypnotic, sometimes combining antiquated styles with modern-day surroundings. Observe his on-the-street candids and you’ll understand the action and emotion contained within them. View his landscapes, and you’ll swear you’re staring at vividly-colored paintings. The most exceptional trait of Liu’s work is indeed its versatility.

Not necessarily bold, but rather fearless, Liu’s shots can often be documentary in genre. But that hasn’t always been the case. “Originally I started shooting landscapes because it seemed easy; a beautiful scene was just a beautiful scene no matter how you captured it. That and pointing a camera at your friends seemed to make them uncomfortable – so [shooting] landscapes is where I started. As time moved on, I realized photographs with friends and family meant much more to me than just a random picture of a place I visited. So I started to focus my photography on portraits and people.”

Many of his images carry a quality similar to that of Garry Winogrand’s. A fascinating street photographer from the mid-20th century, his black-and-white shots seem to capture the odd and obscure moments of humanity. Winogrand is, in fact, one of Liu’s photographic role models – along with the likes of street photographers Henri Cartier-Bresson, Richard Avedon and Lee Friedlander. And, of course, Annie Leibovitz, whose beautiful portraiture has made its own name.

Liu believes in the dignity of film, similar to the method of the street photographers he respects. “Digital is great, but when it comes to creating something that is one-of-a-kind, nothing beats a chemical-processed photograph since it cannot be Xerox copied a million times,” he said. A bit of a trademark in this exceptionally-digital age, he tries not to do any digital photo manipulations that could alternately be done in the traditional darkroom.

Shooting with both film and digital – Leicas, Canons, Rolleis, Nikons and Hasselblads – Liu’s camera choices are as eclectic as his subject matter. But one common thread does seem to emerge in much of his work:
“People. Because everyone is unique in many different ways. A slight change in angle, light and location can drastically change how a picture turns out,” he said. “I got into photography to fulfill a passion that I have always wanted, which was to document and capture moments in life.”

View more of Liu’s work at:
http://www.jliuphotography.com

Bob Provost. Let’s talk about this fabulous man. With a tireless gusto for life and all things associated with it, Provost’s eyes turn anything novel – or anything mundane, for that matter – into a form of art: A coffee mug, a paper clip, the family dog, a piano, a row of houses… Every speck of life seems to hold captive a grain of fascination, which he extracts and presents for us to see in a compelling way.
His most compelling subjects, though, are a bit more complex.

“Every human being is unique and everyone has a story. I like the challenge of trying to find that story and then capture that in an image. Whether it’s someone’s hands or eyes or lips,” he said.
“My favorite subject to shoot is definitely people… It gets tough because I feel uncomfortable shooting on the street without asking permission and my own subjects (my children and wife) are getting a little tired of me taking their photographs.”

The product of a photographic father, Provost has an innate gift and a constant role model. He recalls one particularly memorable moment last summer, while photographing a sunset at Menemsha on Martha’s Vineyard:

“Not only was the actual sunset amazing but I shot it with my father. We both had our tripods and talked about the different ways we wanted to shoot it. He went one way and I went the other. I remember looking down the beach and seeing him perched on a rock capturing a mother and child at the end of the Jetty. I remember thinking, ’Damn, he’s good.’”

Though his father’s photographic influence has been present for over 30 years, Provost didn’t really pick up a camera – his Nikon D300 – until a few years ago.
“Something just popped – I thought to myself that this might be the creative outlet I have been looking for and didn’t even know it. The next week I bought a camera and I’ve been hooked ever since.”

And he’s grown quickly in such a short time.
“I’ve learned how important the background is in a photograph, how simple compositional elements can really take a snaphot and make it a photograph and how important the lighting is – strength, angle, temperature. But probably most important is that you just need to always be shooting.”

Captivated by the works of Diane Arbus, Richard Avedon and Henri Cartier-Bresson, Provost is definitely always in photo mode, and usually has his Nikon in tow. He especially draws inspiration from the works of Montreal-based photographer, Benoit Paille.

“His portraits are humbling.”

It is a random photographer, however, whose words most echo Provost’s spirit and purpose. He once stumbled across them while reading:

“I wanted to see what the world would look like photographed.”

See how the world looks photographed through Provost’s eyes by following his journey on Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/people/35020309@N08/

Chris Lyons discovered his calling at age 15, when he took a part-time job with Cambridge Camera Exchange in Revere, MA.  So, when he was diagnosed with liver cancer two years later – at just 17 years old – it shook his entire world.  No longer able to devote any time to photography, he instead had to focus on keeping his life.

A grateful Lyons went into remission and started college at Northeastern University.  But by age 21 the cancer had returned.  “I didn’t think I was going to live to see 30,” he said.

So, when the cancer went into remission a second time, Lyons knew he had a new shot at life – and everything changed. “I bought a motorcycle, started traveling…” he said.  “I went back to Northeastern in 2007, took a photography course and fell in love with it all over again.”

Making the decision to live his life with passion from that day forward, Lyons left college and pursued photography with fervor.  “My whole life changed because you realize that everything is miniscule; nothing matters. Live for now, with your friends and family.” Lyons has never looked back or regretted his decision.

Now, a successful lensman of weddings, model portraiture and still life, he says, “Weddings are my favorite, without a doubt. To get caught up in a moment and capture that moment that the bride is going through – there’s no feeling like it.  You want the whole room to feel the same way through the same picture.  If you can make memories for other people that will last a lifetime, do it.”

Xander Dyer wears plaid every day. On most occasions, he walks with a giant umbrella. He has a penchant for decaf espresso and jelly donuts from Betty Ann’s in East Boston. His voice sounds a bit like a man of the 40s – similar to Jimmy Stewart in It’s a Wonderful Life – and he’s true to form: A genuinely good guy with an appreciation for people, places, and life in general.

Dyer possesses an innate curiosity about his surroundings and, as such, dabbles in photography as the opportunity arises. Being a New Englander all of his life, it’s no surprise that his images often maintain an element of his upbringing – with their summer pastels and Cape Cod clapboard houses. His photos conjure memories of old-fashioned innocence – Radio Flyers and Norman Rockwell scenarios and children sailing paper boats – and they’re likely to put a smile on your face.