The Human Experience

Contemporary existence immerses humans in a fast-moving world and almost forces us to adapt. Unlike prior times, when life seemed to move at a slower pace. At least that’s the feeling that older photographs always give. When it comes to modern photography, capturing everyday life can also seem like a fleeting light of our individual existence, something that stems from the overwhelming amount of media we consume on a daily basis.

Richmond-based photographer, Riley Goodman, is making sure that his photographs don’t follow that fast-life cultural trend, and that we appreciate each moment instead. He has an affinity for capturing human existence with such rich stillness, and that technique shows us that getting comfortable in the now is actually a refreshing idea.


Goodman’s artistic journey began with his desire to pursue drawing and creative endeavors at an early age. Then, an admiration for photography and a shift in perspective led him to pursue a career in the field.


He explains:

“During my foundation freshman year at VCUarts I quickly discovered the storytelling abilities that photography could provide to my own practice. While I still enjoy other mediums like painting and drawing, I became fascinated with a way of communicating those mediums' evocations through the use of a camera. From there I turned a hobby into my main artistic practice. My first photobook, From Yonder Wooded Hill, was published this year, which was a great moment in feeling like I made the right decision in pursuing the medium.”

Style

Riley Goodman, Sundown at Poplar Vale.

Goodman’s photographs capture people, animals, places, and things that are in the right place at the right time. Even though the pieces have a sense of heightened thoughtfulness, each also portrays everything in its own natural light and habitat. Because the photographs are presented in this manner, they show us the authenticity of what we’re seeing.

That authenticity creates freedom for things to be accepted as they are and as they come. The softness of colors that highlight the lighter aspects of Goodman’s photographic technique is sometimes met with more masculine elements that bring out a ruggedness; thereby a connected approach within the photograph and toward the viewer. Take, for instance, Cruel Summer and Remembrances on a Parlor Wall, where the softness is hardened by other elements. With his work, he aims to broaden the spectator’s viewpoint of what the art experience can represent.

He explains:

“I would say my work is becoming sharper and has begun to push the boundaries of how photography can be presented in a gallery context. We are so used to images existing solely in a digital sphere at this point that I constantly challenge myself to present something other than just a photograph in a gallery context. How can we alter the presentation that makes that viewing experience go beyond something someone could just view on their phone. Recently I presented a work for a group show where I brought in a large tree stump with a photograph displayed behind this sculptural object along with another on the flat top of the stump itself. In this way, I am not only storytelling in my subject matter, but also in the story that develops through the viewer's experience with the work in a gallery context. Additionally, I find myself working on a larger scale in my image-making. More complex still lifes and portrait set-ups allow for greater narrative arcs.”


A Deeper Insight

Riley Goodman, The Angel of Hollywood.

The photographs Goodman takes show us the complexities that come with existence. There’s beauty, nature, experience, and vulnerability. But these aspects are only partially exposed in each piece, in a revealing manner. It causes us to wonder about what they’re telling us about the person, the time of day, or how the setting makes us feel. It is up to the viewer to uncover the mystery of things or to leave things be through acceptance. The works reveal a sense of truth in a naked sense, but still, leave some things to be uncovered. Such is the case in his photographs, Sundown at Poplar Vale and Forever At The Windows, where you want to know more about the place and time and what happened next. Many of the works touch on contemporary existence and how it is related to where we came from, another time, other ways of living, and history in general. They are gentle reminders of ourselves and our ancestors.

Goodman touches on his range of subject matter:

“Beyond being a photographer I have a background as a historian so much of my work begins as research and the exploration of our collective pasts. I am largely fascinated by folklore and the uncanny— so subject matter could range from a ghost story I read about and desire to visually communicate to a methodology of amateur photography used a hundred years ago that I work to employ contemporarily.”

 

Concluding Musings

Riley Goodman, Forever At The Windows.

Goodman has a clear understanding of what it means to portray the contemporary world and its connection to the past. There is a sense of remembrance of other times in his style. But what it shows is that photographs don’t have to be fleeting moments, but present ones, where everything exists just as it is without the need to fast-forward or change. Maybe if we look at our existence in the same way, we can appreciate where we are now in life in a bigger way.


He explains:

“There are so many great photographers working today. Lately, I've found myself drawn to the work of Paul Guilmoth, and Ian Bates, along with the photographic duo, Antone Dolezal & Laura Shipley. I always return to artists like Edward Hopper who've been providing inspiration since I was a child. Beyond specific artists, I've been very inspired lately by a wild combination of antique shooting galleries, Victorian mourning practices, Southern folk belief, the American Civil War, and East Coastal culture.”

His work provides an understanding of how places, people, and things have shaped and continue to shape who we are today, individually. There’s a history that is asking to be acknowledged and that allows for that stillness and curiosity we see in the work.


He shares more about his creative process:

“I find myself drawn to still lifes, draping fabric, and notions of life even when a human or animal is not present. I often illustrate the precursor or aftermath of an event but never the event itself, and try to take the common or mundane and turn the dial slightly to create a subtle unease that makes the viewer do a double take.”


It is fascinating to see glimpses of the connected influence of things through a photograph of flowers or the way the sunlight illuminates the side of a silhouette. It is through those characteristics that we learn so much about what is being revealed and how much we’re willing to learn about the living experience, by opening our minds to it and including ourselves in it during our own personal explorations. The photos make you appreciate life and daily moments even more.

For more on this artist’s work, please visit his website.

Today’s poem goes hand-in-hand with Riley’s understanding of the human experience and its relation to history:


America

BY WALT WHITMAN

Centre of equal daughters, equal sons,

All, all alike endear’d, grown, ungrown, young or old,

Strong, ample, fair, enduring, capable, rich,

Perennial with the Earth, with Freedom, Law and Love,

A grand, sane, towering, seated Mother,

Chair’d in the adamant of Time.

Forces Bound to Coexist

When artists collaborate, it is like a world of creative possibilities. But what is a remarkable task in this process is the ability to work well together while developing ideas that will spark something new individually, and then collectively. For artists Nikki Brugnoli and Anne C. Smith, this task has become part of their professional lives, and though each artist individually showcases work, when the two collaborate, it becomes second nature to their overall process.

Brugnoli remarks on the close relationship the two of them share:

“It has always been a part of the widening conversations about our practices, our lives, our families, and our friendship - to connect in this way. [The past] 10 years have been fruitful and we've evolved from initially an academic mentorship to be very close friends; sisters,” she says.

The two first met at George Mason University in 2012, when Smith was a graduate student in the MFA program and Brugnoli was teaching and advising. Over time, they developed a bond discussing art, poetry, motherhood, and academia. They formed a deep friendship that would eventually evolve into that of collaborative creators.

Inspired Thoughts

Nikki Brugnoli, Horizon Lost, 2020.

When you look at Brugnoli and Smith’s works, you can’t help to notice the differences in their styles. Brugnoli works with screen printing, layers, mylar, and figurative aesthetics to her imagery, while Smith’s work tends to be more abstract in context. Both artists merge well from their distinct perspectives thanks to their deeper understanding of their inner visions and each other. They both produce beautiful work that converges to show similarities in subtle ways but still remains solely that one artist’s voice. 

Brugnoli’s work touches on metaphorical layers of depth, as one finds when viewing it, it is like uncovering pages upon pages of a bigger work, and when you find the gist, it is even more perplexing. As for Smith, her work is highly detailed as she plays with scale and ensures you take your time with every part of her art pieces; a fascinating way to appreciate the work itself. Both artists have a strong approach to their work, and it is that intentionality in technique and detail that allows for a beautiful coexistence when presenting their work together.

Brugnoli speaks on how important it is for her and Smith to get in touch with the physical aspects of their practices, and how this serves a greater purpose. “I think what stands out for us the most is our approach to materials. We are both very physical "makers" and we like drawing, as a practice, but also discuss drawing as a metaphor to larger ideas about our lives - like memory and ritual,” she says.

The differences in aesthetics between the two artists allow each to voice their opinions, consider new viewpoints and possibly take those in and implement them. They see this practice as essential to their collaboration style, which is open and communicative, and in turn, allows them to broaden their perspective, technique, and process.

Smith remarks on this experience, “Nikki always asked questions that took me aback because they were so direct and challenging! I really valued that, and our conversations helped sharpen my focus in the studio. I was also inspired by Nikki's resourcefulness and that she provided a sort of model for incorporating family and studio practice.”

Process Matters

Anne C. Smith, Sift, 2018. Artwork from the Forces Fleeting exhibit.

The behind-the-scenes collaboration between Brugnoli and Smith is what makes their work even more compelling. It takes time, effort, and communication to be able to work well with someone, but that’s not all. There also needs to be a sense of understanding of one another’s styles and a support system that holds space for creative freedom, where both artists feel comfortable creating and being expressive. In Forces Fleeting, their recent exhibit at the Athenaeum Gallery in Old Town Alexandria, Brugnoli and Smith both showcased dark color pieces that were contrasted by the materials each artist used, with Brugnoli using mylar, and Smith using ink-stained linen. Both sets of works allowed for the artistic elements in every piece to show the artist’s style and skillful technique in her own way.

For Brugnoli, the creative process can be transformative and helpful in accomplishing goals:

My practice is geared more toward process - a very clear process of incubation, ideation, and transformation that tends to be very immediate and intense. I tend to procrastinate and wait until only a small window of time remains to actually do the physical work, while months and months, even years, can go into the preparation and writing. 

 Anne and I decided in the beginning that we would document, via text message, email, etc our emerging conversations, specifically about Forces Fleeting, and use that as a springboard. All of the planning was very intentional. I think we both benefit from clear deadlines and the high expectations we have for one another to create our best and strongest work. There was never any question that the outcome of Forces Fleeting would only deepen our respect for one another as artists and friends. 

Nikki Brugnoli, Copper and Gold, 2021. Artwork from the Forces Fleeting exhibit.

In Forces Fleeting, both artists played into their differences and bond at the same time. They intermixed their personal process and individual experiences into an expanding universe, where their work created insight into one another in its own way. Brugnoli touched on thoughts of personal moments, time, and loss, in her layered technique, where dark and shimmering shades complemented her screenprinting. While Smith allowed for specific places and spaces to serve as a platform for her stance on how we live our lives as we move, drive, and explore from one place to another, and how all this adds to one individual, complex experience.

Smith remarks on this:

In our work, we've found connections between what we think about: landscape, place, and home. And also in our practices that fuel: walking, silkscreening, and drawing, for example. We've wanted to collaborate on a show for a long time, and we finally get to do that with this show, Forces Fleeting, at the Athenaeum. The work in that show touches on those overlapping themes, each with our own perspective and experience brought to the work. We're both working mostly monochromatically in these pieces, with areas of deep, dense black ink -- I think we both find poetry in those shadowed areas. By showing together, our work can have some of those conversations visually that Nikki and I have had in the studio over the years. 

 

Concluding Musings

Anne C. Smith, Point of Longing, 2020.

Successful collaboration is a fascinating thing, and in art even more so. What we see in Brugnoli and Smith’s work is the interconnectedness of two distinct forces in the art field that allow for growth and support in one another’s voices, own challenges, and sense of direction. 

Brugnoli points out, “For me, what reveals the strength of a successful collaboration is the shape of trust exchanged and created between two makers.” It’s true that this aspect can really build on the momentum of making things happen in a positive direction, and these two artists know exactly how to make that dynamic work for their individual and collective styles.

For Smith, there is an added intuitive exercise that allows for the creative success of their work together. She says, “There's a shared goal of wanting to see the other person realize their most gut-felt vision in a way that sings. With that kind of foundation, the outcome of the work grows naturally into something we're both proud of.”

Collaborative creativity can only flourish in places where it’s fostered. These places are found where even a challenge is seen as an opportunity to learn more about the process and how to better create together. That level of understanding is what Brugnoli and Smith share, and that synchronicity allows for a successful collaboration that can stand the test of time.

Today’s poem reflects on the blossoming collaboration between these two artists:

FROM THE SUN AND HER FLOWERS BY RUPI KAUR

it isn’t blood that makes you my sister

it’s how you understand my heart

as though you carry it

in your body

The Unraveling of Passions

When art explores the vastness of the human condition, it is often the story and intention behind the work that support a piece’s success. Artist Eric Uhlir shares strong perspectives within one canvas when it comes to this stance. The Washington D.C. artist conveys his thoughts on humanity with such depth that it triggers an inner exploration of life, environment, history, and human action and interaction.


He explains, “The world a lot of my paintings inhabit is a reflection of our own. Human beings are incredibly bad at recognizing change over time, especially when it comes to our impact on the natural world. Growing up in LA, I was always fascinated by the city's sprawl, especially out toward the desert. It felt like people wanted to create their own little Arcadias, with these water attentive pools and lawns spreading as far as the eye could see. ”

An expandable technique

Uhlir’s work captivates through bold colors and movement. There is a dance between both techniques that almost distracts you from observing anything else much further, which is a good thing. It’s almost mesmerizing because this movement tends to cover the entire canvas in a swift manner. Even though there is a great amount of density underneath because of his technique, it is the movement that provides that hypnotic effect through seemingly repetitious curves that open up an entire landscape little by little, making it more intriguing. 

He shares:

“I think the palette is entirely due to my childhood in 1980s Los Angeles. The mix of pop culture, advertising, and the California sun imprinted a kind of high-key, full saturation view of the world. The mark-making and energy in each canvas are like a reward for the act of looking. The work I'm making now is very reference-driven, but the actual act of making each painting is highly spontaneous and intuitive. My inner vision is a constant conversation with both external references and the constant experimental studies I make.”

The work isn’t purely figurative, it plays with abstraction. It uses elements like almost abstract figures, transformative forms, gestural strokes, and infinite color blending for each shape represented. Uhlir’s work collectively achieves a magnified effect that persuades you to come face to face with what the painting may be saying to you at that moment. The vibrancy of color also captures what it is like to feel alive during specific moments. Each instance portrayed seems as important as the next. It is because, in Uhlir’s work, these moments are presented in a laser-focused manner through color and view, which then leads to the unraveling of deeper emotions and thoughts for the viewer.

He explains:

“Works on paper, water-based media, and drawings all float around the studio and settle into my subconscious, but the process is very much about the physical muscle memory learned from making marks. It's all very active and purposeful, I don't leave a lot of things hanging around as pure decoration in the paintings. My hope is to give the viewer so much visual information that they are compelled to come back to the work over and over to explore each mark and passage in the painting. I think this active, multi-session commitment to viewing is vital, and it's something we lose in the digital world. It's actually why I don't really make digital work, I want to give you an antidote for all the screens you have to stare at every day.”

On human vision

The way Uhlir uses the canvas has a strong sense of freedom, which stems from intuitive vision and skill. The need to fill up the entire space says something about the way he’s presenting the work to us. The space where his narrative exists feels big and all-encompassing within that frame, regardless of canvas size. You can find people, animals, nature, and scenarios that engulf everything depicted. When you look deeper, you see living beings portrayed through time and space so you can appreciate the complexities of our existence throughout history, and how far we’ve come from certain aspects or not.

This vision also showcases his view of life through a sense of energy and force, and perhaps that is where the movement comes into play. He is showing us that these living beings have their own force, their own agenda, and actions, and how they act upon these passions is up to each and every one of them. Yet the result of these forces affects the other beings, things, or places, which they encounter. Like the phrase, “every action has a reaction,” that is a fraction of the wholeness you encounter in Uhlir’s work, where this sentiment flows beautifully. 

He states:

“Art history forms the core references on which I build these almost history painting-esque tableaus. The world is kinetic and abstracted because that's much how we experience our own world, right?  More recent works, like "Unity and Division" based on Benjamin West's "Death of General Wolfe", take these structures and examine our own history through the lens of American art history, especially from the colonial era. Remixing paintings by West and others, like John Trumbull, helps me explore how our own experience intersects with these origin myths. It's why so many of the nature works involve references to painters like Gericault, Delacroix, and even Michelangelo. Despite hundreds of years of artists making work about the world, we still seem unable to adequately address systemic racism, environmental disaster, and conflict. Why is that? Do we take all of these images for granted? Can remixing and recontextualizing those original marks through my own lens render something meaningful? These are a lot of the questions I'm investigating through my main body of work.”

 

Concluding musings

Uhlir has a way of constructing complex narratives through his paintings so that they come alive, metaphorically speaking. They have so much to say when it comes to our reality and our humanistic way of acting. It is through the artwork that we face ourselves as humans, not just in the contemporary reality but from a lineage of humans who since the beginning of time have brought joyful moments into existence just as much as tragic ones. His work shows the human factor range so that we know who we are, where we come from, and taking all that into consideration, maybe we can figure out where we’re going individually and collectively. All while honoring the good and acknowledging the bad and learning from it all. While remembering that it is still magnificent to be alive and to explore existence in the best way possible. The artworks are a representation of our own humanity in a fantastical form. By stepping back we get a glimpse of how our actions and reactions can create waves of emotion, action, and change, and that is a power we shouldn’t ignore.

For more on Eric’s work, please visit his website.

Today’s poem aligns with the theme of human complexity, a concept found in Eric’s work:

The Fascination of What’s Difficult

BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

The fascination of what's difficult

Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent

Spontaneous joy and natural content

Out of my heart. There's something ails our colt

That must, as if it had not holy blood

Nor on Olympus leaped from cloud to cloud,

Shiver under the lash, strain, sweat and jolt

As though it dragged road metal. My curse on plays

That have to be set up in fifty ways,

On the day's war with every knave and dolt,

Theatre business, management of men.

I swear before the dawn comes round again

I'll find the stable and pull out the bolt.