Laura L. Minor

In my series Celestial Bodies , I combine digital and analog photography techniques. I create negatives in photoshop combining multiple archive and stock images. I then print the resulting image on transparency film. In a darkened room, I coat a piece of paper with the cyanotype solution, an equal mixture of Potassium ferricyanide and Ferric ammonium citrate. After it dries, I use my negative to make a contact print in the bright sun. The print is then washed allowing the white areas to clear and the signature blue color begins to reveal itself. As the print dries the blue color deepens to a Prussian blue.

The series is a departure in subject and technique. Previously I created from behind the camera. My work focused on land use in Western New York. This meant hours in the car driving to different sites. Then a little over 3 years ago I became a mom. My universe felt smaller and tethered to home. I began to explore an old idea from my sketchbook and the ease of the cyanotype process was a befitting method to explore the subject matter. In this series I source archival images from the turn of the 20th century. These women had far few choices in their daily lives. They were daughters, then wives, then mothers. The photos always have a very formal feel to them as it was a special occasion to be photographed then. They almost never look happy. Their path was predetermined in life, but still they persisted mostly in the shadow of others. I am drawn to the figures’ demure, reserved poses. I think of these women quietly in the background, orbiting the action. A seemly invisible force influencing those in their sphere. I chose to obscure their faces with planets and moons of our solar system. Although we have images of these places much of their existence is enigmatic.

The Victorians, inhabiting a time steeped in mortality, exhibited an enduring fascination with the deceased. It was an era marked by the grim aftermath of the Civil War, claiming approximately 2% of the population, and the harsh realities of infant mortality, which robbed many children of the chance to reach their fifth year. Consequently, the Victorians harbored compelling motives for seeking communion with their dearly departed.

During this era, the burgeoning field of photography, both as a scientific endeavor and an art form, remained perplexing to the average person. Opportunistic photographers emerged, eager to exploit this Victorian yearning, resorting to trickery to satisfy their clients. In hindsight, the duplicity behind these spirit photographs, achieved through artful double exposures and meticulously arranged props, is glaringly evident to modern eyes.

In This current series, I delve into this intriguing past, weaving together archival Victorian photographs with contemporary imagery and advanced digital techniques to fabricate faux spiritualistic images. In an era dominated by the rise of artificial intelligence, we find ourselves confronted with an increasing need to scrutinize the legitimacy of the images we encounter. The Victorians' yearning for truth in their ethereal images serves as a cautionary tale, reminding us that our desires alone cannot authenticate what we perceive.

Lake Erie over and over again

The East Side has the highest vacancy rates in Buffalo. Outsiders often think of these areas as a no-man’s-land. I am an outsider as well. While seeking answers through photography, to Buffalo’s vacancy issues, I became sensitive to scenes that told me more of Buffalo’s story of loss. With these moments I built a new narrative for which became the book On Foot. These images speak to the resiliency of the neighborhoods I walked through. I saw lost innocence competing with childhood, religion binding people together, and hope battling frustration.  Above all I witnessed life continuing on the East Side.

unusual unexplainable moments of small town life

Since 1950 the City of Buffalo, New York lost 55 percent of its population. Today this loss can be seen across the city in vacant lots. 15.7 percent of all land in Buffalo is vacant, amounting to approximately 16,000 vacant lots. Over 6,500 of them are owned by the city. On their own those statistics are abstract and have minimal power beyond the moment they are read. 

In my project Visualizing Vacancy I set out to visual a statistic. I want to make the numbers palpable and visualized. I became enamored with the vacant lots, I see them as stuck in limbo, somewhere between a place and a non-place. For this project I photographed over 3,300 of Buffalo’s city-owned residential vacant lots. While photographing I took a very straightforward, sterile approach to the images. Similar to what a real estate agent would quickly snap to sell a piece of property. I felt more like a social scientist collecting data than a photographer.  Instead of writing and article I created a maximalist art installation with 3294 photographs. Singularly each photo is inconsequential, but displayed together the statistics of the lots becomes visual. With the installation I envelope the viewer, making the issue difficult to escape. The installation thus becomes my info graphic. 

From my very first day photographing for this project residents of the neighborhoods I was walking would stop to talk to me. When I told them about my project, they immediately would share their thoughts on vacancy in the city. Their responses through often focused on small-scale extremely localized solutions. The installation of my images is also meant to start conversations between the viewers and to spark ideas about the entity of the issue rather than just one lot.  I hope people take their experience beyond the gallery. 

While I was walking through each part of the city collecting data I began to see other scenes that also conveyed the story of vacancy. I was compelled to take them as well. Through these photograph I wanted to capture the emotional experience of walking in these neighborhoods. I began to look for small poetic details.  The photographs were edited to construct a story, which became the book On Foot. I chose to use low quality printing materials to mimic drug store flyers, which often populate vacant lots.  The paper in the book will break down quickly speaking further to transitory nature of the neighborhoods where the images were created. With the book I aimed to humanize the sterile photographs Visualizing Vacancy and are my artistic emotional response to walking among the vacant lots. These images speak to the resiliency of the neighborhoods I walked through. I saw lost innocence competing with childhood, religion binding people together, and hope battling frustration.  Above all life continues on the East Side.

Brownfields

A brownfield is a property, the expansion, redevelopment, or reuse of which may be complicated by the presence or potential presence of a hazardous substance, pollutant, or contaminant. These sites will require remediation before they are ready to reused. Often they sit for long periods of time with no progress. I took many exposures examining the details of each site. The resulting images are a patchwork of the many frames stitched together. This quality mimics that affect the Brownfields themselves have on the landscape.

In the golden age of manufacturing great swathes of land were cleared. This made way for massive factories and their accompanying parking lots. Acres of yellow lined spots provided the convenience of proximity to the work force behind businesses such as Bell-aero Space and Kodak.

In Western New York that era has come to a close. Thousands of residents have abandoned the cities of the area. Once great businesses, have faulted, leaving empty shells of buildings and seas of vacant parking lots.  They stand as monuments to our former glory. Abandoned by their owner the asphalt surfaces begin to break down.  From the cracks nature begins to creep in, taking back the land once in its possession. After years of neglect bushes and trees move in and eventually this land will again be a field.

The tradition of wearing a white wedding dress only started about 170 years ago. At that time it was considered fashionable to wear fabrics such as muslin, linen, and gauzes which were only available in white.

The symbolism of purity and innocence was prescribed later.

Over the years the wedding dress has reached a sacred status. Women spend sometimes thousands of dollars on a dress they will only wear once and then stow them away as a remembrance. In the event the union fractures, purging the dress from their possessions is symbolic of moving on.

The wedding dresses I used for this project have been tossed aside by their previous owners and found their way to me. By destroying them, I strip away the sanctity they formerly possessed. Once ruined their existence is futile.