Podcasts

Episodes

Season 1

July 18, 2024

1. Artist in Residence, Lia Pikus

Transcript

Tom: So what are, What are your guys's favorite instrument?

Neal: I'm going to tell you, Tom. It might just be the cello.

Tom: The cello.

Neal: This is coming from a guitar player and a former trombone player. The cello has a timber. A dark, rich timber that is just magical to me. and it lives in the bass clef. And, except for some occasional forays into the treble clef on the higher passages. I was comfortable there as a trombone player, but I love the cello.

Neal: I think it's just a mysterious, beautiful instrument.

Karl: Living in the bass clef. That's pretty deep. Pretty deep.

Tom: That’s really deep. I used to play trumpet in middle school. And. Oh, I was bad. I was bad.

Karl: But you blew it.

Neal: Oh, we all were at the beginning.

Tom: I had dreams of becoming the next great trumpeter. And it all, it all fell apart. But I don't know, it might not. I love a string instrument. I really do. Just maybe a classic guitar. You could do a lot on a guitar. And it takes a lot of, like, skill to get there. So I respect anybody that could master the guitar.

Neal: The cello has its amazing range of tones to me. It has this, as I said before, a deep, dark timber. But at higher registers you can almost get to where a violin is, or certainly a viola. So there's this big range there, but when it's dark, it's just beautiful.

Karl: It's very it's a versatile instrument.

Neal: Very.

Karl: Yeah. Mine. well, I wouldn't say it's necessarily my favorite for its musicality, but, the anything within the accordion family. I love the accordion, the concertina. the fact that whoever came up with it, whoever invented polka music, the fact that you're, it's a wind instrument, but it plays off of the keys or the button box. It's incredibly just fun.

Karl: It's whimsical. I like a good whimsical instrument, even if it's not the prettiest voice like a cello would be. Neal: And there's no worries because there's no frets. I had to get you back.

Karl: No frets, I’m back.

Tom: The accordion is a wild instrument, I love it. It is beautiful. I think of Weird Al every time when I look at an accordion.

Karl: I got a concertina years ago, and I have learned half of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star in the past seven years when I first bought my concertina. But it is, it's just really fun to to plink around on it. And yeah, you think of like, big band poker, Weird Al, just those fun. I don't know, just hype music.

Neal: You think about these stringed instruments like the violin and the cello. I mean, the cello. I believe it's been around since the mid 1500s. So it's just an old, old instrument. And so much music has been written on it. It also complements other instruments really well. You can play anything with a cello. Conversely, you can pair it with almost anything and it works.

Neal: So like you said versatile cool instrument. Wow.

Tom: Well we need to introduce ourselves I think here. We're getting into it. We're getting into the weeds. What are we doing? Why are we here today?

Karl: Well, hello. My name is Karl. I am a park ranger here at Shenandoah National Park.

Tom: Yeah, and I'm Tom. you'll hear me later in the podcast, but I am also a park ranger here at Shenandoah National Park.

Neal: And I'm Neil. I'm also a park ranger. I'm a visual information specialist here in Shenandoah National Park.

Karl: And the the big thing. So, you know, speaking on the three of us, as Neal said, of course visual information specialist, we all kind of work in interpretation, education and media. And, both emotional and cultural resources and natural resources of the park. And I think that's kind of what brings us to starting up a podcast.

Tom: Which is named after a great landmark in Shenandoah National Park.

Neal: Milepost 51.

Tom: Yes. What can you tell us about milepost 51, Neal?

Neal: Well, milepost 51 is where the Big Meadows area is, which is the most developed area of the park, and also where the Big Meadows is: the cleared space that everybody loves to come to to observe wildlife and flora. Fauna. it's also almost exactly in the middle of our park. A park is 105 miles long, so just about the middle portion of it.

Neal: Carl is pretty familiar with the Big Meadows area.

Karl: I've heard of it once or twice. of course, that's where I've worked for the past several years. And yeah, going into, of course, starting up this, podcast and this journey that we're taking, I'm choosing milepost 51 as the title and kind of the, the iconic part of the park to, basis off of is really because being the central hub of the park, it's it's really a place of connectivity.

Karl: Everybody passes through Big meadows. that's where a lot of the Ranger programs, a lot of our EMS and rescue programs are based out of. We have a hotel there. Of course, a lot of our wildlife viewing. If you're coming into the park, that's a great place to go. So it's really a jumping off point to the rest of the park.

Karl: And, much like, this podcast and our other media, is a great jumping off point to learning more about Shenandoah as a national park. Neal: And also the milepost itself is kind of iconic on Shenandoah on Skyline Drive because there's one every mile. Yeah, on the western side of the drive, every mile you'll see a stone milepost.

Karl: And somehow I still get lost every time I drive it. I don't I don't understand.

Neal: You have to get North-South right.

Karl: I'm driving east. West. That's the problem.

Neal: And. Yeah. So I guess.

Karl: One question I have for you. You know, you were asking about, instruments and, our favorite music earlier, but, you know, we being a national park, where's the overlap with with music in nature? Where does the overlap between our national parks and music, as we'll see coming up?

Tom: I think that it's really important for music to be, kind of intertwined with our National Park Service, which is why we are doing the Artist in Residence program and which is what our next, couple of episodes in our podcast is going to be about. But I think it's crucial for music to be involved in the, park system, just being able to show the beauty of nature to the public in another format.

Tom: You know, people can go out and see, they can listen to bird sounds and that can all influence different artists in so many different ways. So I think it's important to highlight those artists and kind of show what their, what their view of the, the park and, and in this case, Shenandoah National Park is to them through their music or their art.

Neal: And how the park and nature might inspire the musician to write something. Yeah, to me there, there's a correlation there. The the nature itself and music are both universal languages, and anybody and everybody can enjoy those things. And I think that's really that's a cool thing.

Karl: Well, in in looking into the history of Shenandoah, even before it was a national park, you know, we became a national park in 1935. prior to that, there was, you know, Stonington Resort here over Skyland Resort, over at the Stoney Man Camp. And they were known for their big musical shindigs, their big bands coming in. you know, a lot of the people of the mountains, music was a big part of the culture.

Karl: Music was a part of the connection between the people and where they lived, where they recreated. And still to this day, you know, as you were saying, time with the artists and residents. Music is still a way for us, the National Park Service, to connect with people.

Tom: Truly, truly. And I think it's crucial and it's really crucial and, to keep supporting the arts and keep supporting music, especially within, our public park system, some. So I think, without further ado, let's get into the rest of the podcast and you can hear Leah, our first artist in residence, talk about her experience in Shenandoah National Park.

Tom: So thank you for listening today and enjoy.

Karl: This you.

Neal: That.

Karl: Yeah.

Ally: Leah Pinkus is a cellist, composer, and multidisciplinary artist whose practice centers around art's ability to cultivate experiences of connection, both within community and in dialog with the natural world. As a Thomas J. Watson Fellow, she researched this connective power on a global scale, exploring the role of art in fostering community, specifically in the context of collective reimagining of justice.

Ally: This research forms the foundation for her current explorations of live looping as a form of meditative ritual, and is the central focus of the songs on ritual, which released in February of 2024. Her current preferred media are cello loop, pedal voice, field recordings, and biodata sonification. Leah was selected as the May Artist in Residence in Shenandoah National Park, and will be here from May 4th through May 25th.

Ally: So welcome.

Lia: Thank you for having me and so happy to be here.

Tom: Yeah, thanks for joining us, Leah.

Ally: So before we get started, we can do some introductions. My name is Alyssa Fox, and I am a park ranger at Shenandoah National Park.

Lia: Shenandoah National Park.

Tom: My name is Tom Rees. I am also a park ranger at Shenandoah National Park. And we have...

Lia: Yeah, I'm Leah.

Ally: We picked...

Lia: Up been given an introduction already, so...

Ally: So we are sitting right now on a trail in Limberlost, which is just a short drive from Skyland where Leah is staying for her residency. And we cannot help but notice the birds.

Tom: They are not only singing, they're like putting together a chorus for Earth right now.

Ally: They're trying to show off, really.

Tom: They're really showing off.

Lia: I can tell.

Tom: So what? I don't know. I don't even know how to start. This is our first pod.

Ally: I know.

Tom: We are.

Ally: We were just really excited to do this. But we want to do it right, you know, do it justice.

Tom: It's really important for us to, like, show off, like the beauty of Shenandoah and the people that come to Shenandoah like Leah, who get to interpret the beauty of nature into something that other people can experience, like her art. So we're really excited to be here with Leah, and we're just going to do a quick little interview and ask you some questions about what she has been experiencing herself here in Shenandoah National Park.

Tom: So is there anything you want to say, Leah, about, how you're how you're feeling right now? What do you see around you? What really peaks your mind about this trail or this park in general?

Lia: That's such a lovely question. I think right now, as you said, I'm definitely noticing and experiencing the birds. I'm also really, probably because we've had a bunch of misty days, and this is one of the first days of sunshine, and I'm really noticing the dappled sunlight through the trees, and it's kind of shifting further down there on the path, which I've been turning to look at because it's so beautiful. Yeah, those are the two things I'm most noticing about our environment right now.

Ally: Tell us a little bit about your three weeks that you've spent in Shenandoah. What did you really been focusing on or given the opportunity to focus on?

Lia: My three weeks in Shenandoah have been incredibly special. I'll start with the second part of your question, which is what I've been focusing on. Was that the second part of your question, what was the second part of your question?

Ally: You can answer any part of the question, okay. What have you been able to focus on while you're here?

Lia: I have really been given the space to find silence. And I think that is really difficult to find in at least my day-to-day life, just prolonged periods of silence. And, you know, every day I've been waking up and going on a hike and noticing what I'm hearing. And it's this funny contrast of there's so much sound in nature, and by witnessing that sound and by paying attention to that, we also experience a kind of silence within ourselves. And so, in a foundational sense, I've been really given this space to experience that silence by experiencing the witnessing of nature every day. It's been so beautiful. But then that's also translated into letting me really focus on creating things and writing music and translating kind of the felt experiences that I have out in the natural world into art. And it's been just incredibly special.

Ally: I find it so interesting that you have to find silence, or you're inspired by the silence. And in order to create a sound. Yeah, that's amazing. Yeah, I think of it in that way. I feel like there's this...

Lia: Idea in certain sects of Buddhism that in order for us to have intentional, thoughtful, loving thoughts, we have to engage in profound periods of silence. And it's only from that silence that meaning can arise. I think it's that contrast of like existence, nothingness, space, matter. I think that really translates into my own creative practice very intensely.

Tom: So. Oh, wow. Yeah. And that is very that deep. Yeah. So you, you pretty much put your all into your music, and then you take your environment around you and put that all together and create something to output into the world. Thank you for sharing that with us here.

Lia: Thank you.

Ally: Yeah. So, we can backtrack a little bit. What's your what's your background? Speak a little bit more about that and how you ended up here today. Yeah.

Lia: Music. I have played cello since I was seven years old, grew up classically trained. That got quite intense in high school. I was traveling to Boston for orchestra every weekend and practicing like four hours a day, and I ended up going actually to school for cello performance, classical cello performance. And then I kind of, I have a mentor who says that I kind of wandered off into the woods. So I just kind of realized that for me, classical music didn't. It's so beautiful and it's still such a big part of my life, but it didn't give me the sense of authenticity and creativity that I really was reaching for. And so then I started writing my own music and started experimenting and yeah, I guess that's just been where I've been since that point.

Tom: So, Leah, where are you coming from to you've made it to Shenandoah National Park as an artist in residence. Where did you start in your journey to get here?

Lia: Yeah. So I grew up in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I grew up in Asheville, North Carolina, and that's also that's where I started playing cello. I've been playing cello since I was about seven years old. And, so I would I grew up classically trained, but I also would spend my summers at fiddling camp in the Appalachian fiddling.

Tom: Yeah. Wow. That's so cool. You have no idea.

Ally: That feel right at home now I.

Tom: Know. shout out to Neil. If Neil here, he would say something along the lines of where you want a roof?

Lia: Very funny, Neil.

Tom: Yeah, I you did you hear that?

Lia: Yeah, yeah. So I had a lot of varied experiences, but very much, I think, especially through those experiences, felt a deep connection between cello and my art and my physical environment, specifically being the Blue Ridge Mountains. And yeah, as I've been writing my own music and as I was preparing to and I guess now have written my first album, I was really thinking, where do I want to be?

Lia: Where do I want to feel a sense of groundedness in order to be able to write and create? And I think the answer was just unequivocally back in the Blue Ridge Mountains. And so I also used to drive through Shenandoah all the time when I was younger, because my grandparents lived in DC, and so I was quite familiar.

Lia: It feels like home in many senses. and that that brought me to apply for the residency. So.

Tom: So you currently live in Virginia?

Lia: No, I live in New York City right now, but I will be moving to Boston this fall.

Ally: So have you had any memorable experiences here during your residency that you can think of, either with wildlife or visitors? Any kind of encounter?

Lia: So many. I feel like I've had every day, so many special experiences. I'm a big journalist and I have journaled more during my time here than in the past months. Being at home and I even at home. I journal every day and still there's just so. My experiences have been so full here. I'm thinking of one in particular where I went on, I think it was Upper Hawksbill and it was a really misty day.

Lia: So there was nobody else out on the trail. And I rounded the corner and this deer was standing right there, and we kind of looked at each other. And then he trotted off around a bend and I was like, okay, he's left. And then I walk around the bend and he's standing right there and he's waiting for me.

Lia: And we hike together for, I mean, you know, for a deer, that's just a deer being a deer, not a deer hiking.

Ally: But I like to say we hike together.

Lia: For truly, maybe an hour.

Tom: Wow.

Lia: Like he every time would just wait for me around the bend. And that it was so precious. It was so special. So.

Ally: So you're composing music, but also writing music. Are those synonymous? My missing something there?

Lia: No, that's a great question. And something I am figuring out myself. Oh, I'm not sure.

Ally: Because.

Lia: I actually, I came into the residency with Composition Capital C as kind of my explicit goal. and for me, that means mostly cello based and instrumental. And, and then I've ended up. That's why I say I've both been composing and writing music, because I've ended up writing a lot of almost like folk songs, which has been super unexpected.

Ally: Where that fiddler camp came. Yeah, it really is.

Lia: I do feel like some childhood self has been activated in this environment in a way that has brought up parts of myself that I not was disconnected from, but maybe lay dormant for a while. And so I think that probably is actually part of it. Is past selves being activated.

Ally: Through this physical space? Yeah. I find that when most people come into the park, hiking or like rock scrambling, playing in the water at the base of the waterfall, it's almost like it does bring up this child in you again, because you get to just be you just get to live in that moment. Yeah. And you have nothing else to think about other than wanting to feel like use all of your senses, you know, when you're outside because you're hearing things.

Ally: You're feeling things. I think that that's just really something special about being outdoors. And so to apply that to a musical sense, I think is really, really interesting.

Lia: That's such a good way of putting it. And it really does know, like it's really I'm thinking of yesterday I went swimming and in a waterfall and just felt like this acute presentness that just comes from and I think you feel that inherently as a child, because you're so new to the world and everything is new to you.

Lia: So your brain is truly being programed as you live. So you have to be very present. You can't just rely on old neural pathways, but also, I think there's just a sense of wonder that gets reactivated when you're.

Ally: Yeah, absolutely.

Lia: Back in nature. Yeah. It's really lovely.

Tom: Yeah. For sure. I mean, I remember the first time I did like a rock scramble. Have you done Bear Fence? Yeah. The trail. Yeah. Oh, you have to before you go. But the first time I did that trail, I was kind of blown away. Just like, kind of like you said, Ali, it kind of brings you back to your childhood.

Tom: Like going on a playground and jungle jam, just climbing up, like, going, like, the wrong way up a slide. Kind of feel like you're not supposed to be climbing this thing, but you're doing it anyway.

Ally: So I, was trying I attempted to do my own research on the cello last night because, admittedly, I don't know a whole lot. and my favorite game to play is typing in the beginning of a question and then letting the search engine finish to that question, because it's what I suppose it's whatever people are asking the most.

Ally: So I figured, well, I'm going to bring that to the table today. So I did a little bit of who what, when, where, why. Oh yeah. And let the search engine finish it. So some of my favorite questions. why is the cello the best instrument?

Lia: I mean, a great question with a million answers. I let's start with it's the instrument that I think you know what I'm about. I'm about to say something that I'm going to say factually, and I'm not 100% sure, 100% factual. But from what I recall, the cello is the instrument most akin to the human voice. So it's in the same range, the mode, the instrument that's most in the same range as the human voice.

Lia: So it activates something almost primordial within us. So I think that's reason number one.

Tom: No, no, no.

Ally: That's I mean that honestly, I don't know how you could top that answer. That reason.

Tom: I've never heard that before.

Ally: Beautiful.

Tom: Really interesting.

Ally: Depends on the voice that you're comparing it to. Right.

Tom: Right. Yeah. I guess you could do like any, any voice. You're just going, "Oh."

Ally: So voices I'd prefer not to hear. Right.

Tom: I know I get.

Lia: That and those, the violin mimics. So you don't have to worry about that.

Ally: So why is the cello so emotional.

Ally: You can make that emotional connection. Yeah.

Lia: I can often.

Ally: Yeah. Is the cello hard to play? I wouldn't.

Lia: No, I don't know, I don't have any memory of. Actually, I do have a memory of beginning the cello. I was going to say I don't have a memory beginning. It's always just been a part of me. But I do remember when I got my first cello. I tried to play it in the backseat of my car. That's like the one little blip of consciousness I have from that.

Tom: Wait, how old were you?

Ally: How big was this car? Seven.

Lia: It was a minivan.

Ally: So it was doable.

Lia: But mom, look back and she starts. Not that.

Tom: I'm not.

Ally: In the moving vehicle.

Lia: So I do have that one memory of beginning, but in a more real sense, I don't remember starting. I don't remember what learning it felt like. It's just always been part of the language of my body. And so I think for me, it always felt very natural. I've tried teaching it to people, and people do find it difficult because it's a lot of two hand coordination and that can be tough back.

Tom: So and there aren't many instruments that... Oh never mind, every instrument you just talking about.

Ally: And now you're questioning, why are we invited to have this podcast to be playing myself out now?

Ally: Oh, there's a couple good ones in here. When it's okay if you don't know the answers to these. Okay. When was the cello first invented? see.

Lia: Majoring in classical cello. At one point, I knew this because I had to take music history, and right now, it's not in the memory bank. But I do know that the cello started as a viola gamba. And which is I actually can't speak on the viola, but that's all I can say. That's truly all I can say is that it exists and that that's the origins of the cello.

Lia: That's all. I used to be able to speak on it. Not anymore.

Tom: So...

Ally: All right, let's see who is famous for playing the cello. Anyone we might recognize. Yeah, I think you might recognize Mr. Yo-Yo Ma.

Ally: Oh, my gosh, yes, I've heard him play live. Oh, my gosh. Where? When I was in college, he came to play a concert. How lovely.

Lia: Yeah, he's a lovely man. He actually did a series of live performances of the Bok Suites in national parks, which you should look up because they're stunning. He released an album that he did, I think, in Great Smoky, of the first Bok suite, and he records it like this with the birds in the Park live.

Ally: Well, you'll be next because we're going to ask you to do that.

Lia: What a legacy. Oh my goodness.

Ally: And then let's choose one more question.

Tom: Wasn't there one that we really wanted?

Ally: It was a little bit of an odd ball, I think. I think it was just playing the cello hurt. Oh yeah. And we didn't know why that was even a question. But if you could provide some insight on why that scale.

Tom: Of 1 to 10, how painful is the cello?

Lia: That is a hilarious question, because yes, yes, it is painful for various reasons. So when I was younger, I would practice, you know, in the classical tradition, you're using your left hand on the fingerboard a lot. And I say in the classical tradition, because I kind of moved into alternative techniques now. So it's less of the fingers on the strings, but doing that can really rip up your fingers until you build calluses.

Lia: And I used to, when I was building calluses, I would bleed from my fingertips quite a lot. But it's funny that you ask that now, because I've been playing my cello sideways a lot, and I have these huge bruises right now on my legs because the cello has this really sharp point in its body, has two really sharp points, and they've just been digging into my leg as I play it on its side.

Lia: So it's very funny that you ask, wow, it's been a...

Tom: That is a...

Ally: Big part of my life this past week, actually. You're really dedicated to your craft. If you can make it so that it doesn't hurt in the moment is the thing. I think maybe I just, I get so into whatever I'm doing that I don't notice, and then I will pull the cello up. I'm like, oh my goodness.

Tom: So is it normally, it's not normally played on its side, right? It's an upright instrument, okay.

Lia: Upright. It has an end pin that goes into the ground. But I've been playing it kind of like a guitar.

Tom: Oh, that's really cool.

Ally: How much does it weigh?

Lia: That's a great question. Not too much. It's usually actually the cases that weigh a lot. But I got when I was in high school, I got a really light case. So the cello for me is really... everyone's always like, can you walk upstairs with that? Can you? Yeah.

Ally: I walk miles doing this and Samsung was born for this. Yeah.

Tom: So what advice would you give to other artists like yourself? Not only people who would accept like an artist in residency, but in general, any other artist that has been working for to work towards making or creating something that they care passionately about.

Lia: I would say this is probably mostly just advice that I would have wanted to give myself maybe a few years ago, but and this is going to sound actually super cheesy, but don't be afraid to be yourself. And don't be afraid to be very earnest. I think you can be afraid of earnestness and feel like we have to be something that we're not.

Lia: But I think truly beautiful art that translates your fellow experience of being into something that other people can connect with has to come from a really earnest place. And that's what makes your art beautiful and unique and probably touching and that's what welcomes in other people also to your practice. And so I think just really creating from the most earnest place within you.

Tom: Yeah. Thank you so much for joining us.

Lia: Oh, thank you for having me.

Tom: Yeah. No problem. It's been a great time. We've been here again on Limber Lost Trailhead.

Ally: Where we're about to do a live concert.

Tom: Yeah.

Ally: Yeah. Do you mind playing? Just a bit. Yeah. We want to hear. We want to hear what this instrument can do. Yeah.

Lia: Absolutely.

[cello music plays]

Lia: You guys.

Ally: Do that so deeply. Like, I don't even know what it is that I feel, but it's just it really does bring out an emotion in you, even if you can't describe it too.

Tom: You and just feeling all that.

Lia: It's intense. Yeah.

Ally: Oh, wow.

Lia: That's so nice to hear.

Tom: The people around us are probably like “what”?

Ally: They're getting a show. They're like, that is a crazy bird.

Join Ally, Neal, Karl, and Tom as they sit down and talk music! Lia Pikus, the first artist-in-residence of Shenandoah's 2024 summer season talks about how the cello was a formative yet transformative part of her life. Relating music to nature in the park, Lia gives brief encounters of her time spent here at Shenandoah and what she's gained and learned.

September 5, 2024

2. Artist in Residence, Megan Evans

Transcript

Ally: Well, I could always start with my question that I asked you all yesterday evening. Poorly explain what you do for work. Tom: You go first. Ally: Okay. I make sure the public knows stuff about our stuff. I'm basically a professional gossip. Spread the good news. I fix the drama so that everyone still thinks we're awesome. Karl: So you sound like a Real Housewives narrator. Tom: Do people still think we're awesome? Ally: They should, I put the good stuff out there. Karl: I think we’re awesome, Tom. We are awesome! Tom: We are, we are. We do a lot of fun things. Luca: Speaking of fun and awesome things for work, what I do is I stalk wildlife and humans in federally protected land, and I shoot them multiple, multiple times until I get that perfect shot. And I can show the world the bodies of the wildlife and humans that I shoot with my camera. Thank you. I love photography. Karl: I love federally protected lands. Tom: Luca, that's so you just going around shooting things, man? Luca: Yeah, you know, you know. Tom: Well, I'm going to play a few and I shoot a lot. At these animals, man, I'm shooting like 30 times, maybe 24 to 30 times a second. Luca: Okay. Yeah. Tom: Depends on how I'm feeling. Luca: I can respect that. Tom: Umm, but it's a rapid rate. I'm. “uh-uh-uh-huh” I mean, machine gun. Ally: I didn’t know we had to have sound effects prepared. Tom: I always have them prepared. And get this. I package them up, slap a note on them and put them out to the people, and they can just laugh at it. They're just like, haha! And they. Hahaha. But yeah, I make videos and put them on social media sometimes, but that's my deal. Ally: Now it's down to Karl. Karl: Oh, you want to know what I do? I tell people to take a hike and where they can do it. Tom: Do they do it? Karl: Hopefully. I don't know. Ally: If they listen. Tom: And we all collectively, like, make beautiful, colorful papers to prevent people from jumping off cliffs as well. Luca: That's true. Tom: Yeah. Karl: Arguably the most important part of the job. Tom: I think so. Ally: I guess we can go around and make introductions and reveal what we do for real. Tom: Oh true! Ally: So I'm Allysah and public affairs is part of my everyday job. So that's why I'm a professional gossip. Luca: I'm Luca. I'm the media intern. So I take lots of photos, some videos and edit them. Put them out into the world. Tom: I'm Tom, I'm a visual and information specialist and I do video photography, make signs, and do a lot of social media as well. I don't actually shoot animals. Neither does Luca. Luca: No. Tom: We would probably be fired and jailed. Karl: I like the “probably,” there's like a minor chance. Tom: Yeah, we do get away. Karl: Well, ditto to Tom. I am Karl. I'm also a visual information specialist, so I do some of what Tom and Luca and Allysah do. I also sit in on interviews, giving information about the park, some interpretive information as well. And it's always a good time. Ally: So, Tom and Luca, you guys talked to our artist in residence, Megan, and she takes a lot of photography. And you all just explained that that's what you do in your jobs. So how could you relate to her and what she was doing to capture the art that she was looking for in the park? Luca: So a lot of Megan's photography was as reference material for her paintings, whereas me and Tom are more so doing photo and video stuff just for the photos and videos. But a lot of times, especially when I was kind of first starting out, getting a good photo of a bird or an insect, that was like the easiest way for me to identify it. Obviously, sometimes in the field you only see it for 2 or 3 seconds, but if you get a good photo, you can stare at it for as long as you want and, you know, go through whatever identification process and find exactly what species it is. And also, I feel like especially with taking macro photos of insects, a lot of these details you don't really catch with your eyes when you're just seeing it out in the field. But once you get that good, high-quality photo of it, I think you start to appreciate, especially insects, a lot more because you can see all of the patterns and details in their face, on their back, on their wings, all that kind of stuff. Ally: And I love social media posts like that. I think we've put out a couple where we have really, really tight shots of something, usually an animal, and we have the public guess, what do you think this is? Because everything up close is just perspective. So I think that that is a really neat way to look at how you can incorporate that into a piece of work. So that's yeah I kind of get that. Luca: Yeah. And it's a cool way to connect more with your natural environment through technology and digital technology. And you know, often I feel like these concepts are like opposed to each other, like, oh, kids are just on their phones all day. They need to go outside. But it's actually, you can kind of use your phone to enhance your experience outside if you're using them in the right way. Ally: That's a great point. I never thought about that. The other thing that she spoke about was she was on track to become a professional soccer player. And so I had another question in my head about this. And I want to ask you all your opinion. Do you think that sports are a type of art? Karl: I would say absolutely. I mean, the big factors that make art, art is somebody following a passion and creating something beautiful, whatever that means to them. And while sports, you know, typically the goal is to get more points or, you know, win in some way, you're still following a passion. You're still using whatever media is involved, the ball, the hoop, your body, and creating something that, whether it seems beautiful or not on the surface, people want to watch. People want to engage, people want to be a part of that. And I would say that's absolutely art. Ally: Yeah, it's a performance. Karl: Yeah, yeah. Ally: Above all, yeah. Tom: I'd even go as far to say that some art is a type of sport, in a way, because some take crazy amounts of stamina to do, like photography. If you're going out climbing a mountain just to try to get that perfect shot, it's going to take a lot of effort. Or even having the finesse of a paintbrush, like that takes skill. So I think they're kind of intertwined in a way. Luca: But I do think there's definitely a spectrum, a gradient to how artful some sports are versus others. I mean, I think in the Olympics this year, there's literally artistic swimming, which is, you know, I think that's like the new synchronized swimming. And so there's some sports where you're doing a routine to music, where you're literally incorporating, you know, like rhythmic gymnastics, you're incorporating hoops and balls and stuff like that. But maybe, you know, others like weightlifting, obviously, there's an art to that too, but maybe it's less direct. Ally: The body is art. Luca: Yeah, yeah, your body is art. Karl: So, Luca, let's get controversial. What is the least artistic sport in existence? Luca: Ooof. Karl: The people want to know. Tom: Don’t hold back, Luca. Ally: On the hot seat. Luca: Oh man, I agree with Karl's whole spiel about, you know, the training and the passion is art, so I'm not going to go out and say there are some sports that are not art whatsoever, but I think the less maybe coordination and performance elements, the less artistic a sport is. So I mean, there's an art to weightlifting, but compared to rhythmic gymnastics, you know, it's less of a performance to lift up the heavy weight. Ally: And some of those things that are less spectator sports, because again, art tends to be put out to be enjoyed by others, tends to not always. He's good. He’s got good answers. Tom: I think everyone should tell a story from their art class. Karl: One that sticks out to me. I always loved art growing up. I was always doodling. And of course, in elementary school, everybody took it, and this was probably second or third grade. And we had to—we were learning about the circus for one reason or another—and we had to make like paper cutouts of a circus train car and put something in it, you know, the monkeys or the trapeze artist or the clowns or whatever. And I chose—I loved African mammals, learning about African animals at the time. And I put a hippopotamus in mine. And I was very excited because not only did I love art, not only did I love African mammals, but I loved being a know-it-all as a child. So I was telling everybody at my table about how hippopotamuses, because I just learned this fact, were one of the leading causes of animal-related injury to people in Africa. They're a very territorial mammal, very big, very fast, even on land. And they caused a lot of injury in this one. Peer put up a fight and argued with me. I don't even remember what he said, like the Lions or some—this something, something that a third grader would say. Tom: How dare he. Karl: And I argued back, and he just would not let up. He was like tearing apart my art. And I was the one who got sent to the office for arguing. Tom: Art can be painful. Karl: And I still, yeah, I put a lot of those emotions into that hippo. After that, it is my Mona Lisa. Ally: I was not in an art class. I was in Girl Scouts and in middle school. There was a competition to create a new sundae for the local ice cream shop. And I don't even think I earned a badge for this. But I loved ice cream, so I was like, I'll give this a go. So we had to submit a picture and, oh my gosh, middle school me—so awkward. I submitted a picture of myself and my idea for what I called a cow pile sundae, and it was made of chocolate and vanilla swirl with peanut butter, green sprinkles, and whipped cream with a cherry to sort of look like a tasteful cow pile. And I won, and my picture was put up at the ice cream shop. Luca: Next to a cow pile. Ally: Exactly. And it's still there today. They actually left it up. It was popular enough that they kept it. So that is my one piece of art that I'm very proud of. Tom: Congratulations. Ally: Yeah. Tom: So Allie, Karl, Luca, thanks for doing the podcast.And now let's get right into Milepost 51 episode two with our second artist in residence, Megan Evans. Luca: Megan Evans uses her art to investigate nature, specifically the way in which mathematical concepts are represented. She has always been interested in the recurring shapes seen within the natural environment, through the repetition of shape and natural elements. Her paintings reflect elements of this world in a nontraditional way. Megan is also a highly regarded visual art educator, driven to inspire all of her students to become lifelong arts enthusiasts while also preparing students for careers in visual art. She has worked for Columbus City Schools for 25 years, while continuing to create and exhibit her own work throughout Ohio. She holds a Bachelor of Arts in Visual Art from the University of Findlay, and a Master of Art Education from The Ohio State University. Megan was chosen as the July Artist and will be in the park from July 8th through 29th. Megan, thank you so much for joining us today. Megan: Thanks for having me. Luca: We're here at Loft Mountain Campgrounds, sitting out on a nice screened porch with a lot of cool birds in the background that I'm going to try not to be distracted by. My name is Luca Pfeiffer. I'm the AmeriCorps intern working out of the parks media office. Tom: My name is Tom and I am a park ranger here at Shenandoah National Park. Yeah, you heard me last time on the podcast as well, but, we are back. We're back with our second artist in residence, Megan. And we're very happy for Megan to be here with us today. So thank you for being here again, Megan. Megan: Yeah. Tom: So today, Megan, Luca and I went on a beautiful hike at Black Rock. It's at mile 84 on Skyline Drive. In terms of hikes in Shenandoah, which one is at the top for you? Megan: Oh, that's a tough question. Tom: Yeah. Megan: Today's hike was one of the easiest hikes I've been on. Probably next to Limberlost, which is the easiest hike in the park. So if anybody's just looking for a meander, Limberlost is the trail for you. But I really loved Rose River. It was a tough hike, and it was raining.But to walk along the river, pretty much most of that hike was really gorgeous. And so that would be close to my top. Probably. Tom: And I think you were telling me and Luca the other day about the art you did on Rose River, and we had a chance to see that. And it was really, really beautiful. Could you explain your process of making art in Shenandoah as the artist in residence? Megan: Yeah. When I found out that I received the residency, which let me just tell you, I was so excited about, I was watching as it went through the different rounds, and when I got offered an interview, it was just tremendously exciting. And so my plan was that I would hike and photograph and use those photographs as my source material for my paintings. And then I went on my first hike, and I completely midstream changed how I was going to work. And I have a little art kit that I take with me. And that first hike, I decided to go ahead and start painting. And I sat for about three hours and worked on a small six by six painting, and it completely changed my thought process in terms of how I wanted to work while I was in the park. And I decided from there I wanted to hike everyday and every day I wanted to create a painting. And I haven't done a hike every day, but almost. So right now I'm at ten paintings. Tom: Wow. Wow. I don't think I've done ten paintings in my life, you know? Luca: So that's really interesting to hear, kind of how your process has changed. You kind of had an idea of what you thought it was going to be like, but then out in the field, you sort of adapted and realized how to get the most out of your environment. My background and also Tom's background is in photography, videography. Iespecially love nature photography, but I've always just done photography just for the picture. Whereas you're doing nature photography for the purposes of creating a painting. So I'm just kind of curious when you're hiking along and you're out on location. Can you speak a little bit towards your thought process in terms of what are you looking for, or what is it that catches your eye and what makes you want to stop and take the photo of it, and then just kind of how you work from there? Megan: So lots of things capture my attention. I actually probably am a slow hiker for that reason because I'm always looking. And so some of the photos I've taken are like up into the canopy because the lines that branches make. Some trees are just so stunning in the way that they create this, like, almost line work. But then I also get captured by these little tiny things that are along the trail. So yesterday, when I was on Doyles River Trail, I saw these beautiful, like, acorn shells and something that kind of looked like a pine cone, but not a pine cone. I'm not even sure what it is, because my Wi-Fi to do picture identification is not great. So I have research that I will be doing when I get back to Columbus. Identifying some of the things. I had this little nut that I think we figured out is of a hickory species today. Tom: We think so. Megan: That just about took me down the trail yesterday, and so it got its due in the painting. But also just, I love insects and things like that. So capturing this place, it has the most wonderful butterfly collection. And so I've gotten a lot of different photographs of different types of butterflies and wildflowers. And so some of it is looking at color, some of it is looking at the detail in the objects. When you see the acorn, it's just the top of it. And it has this most beautiful, like, diamond patterning to it. That just like caught my attention. And it has this, like, beautiful red color in it. Today when we were out there, these, you know, it's July. We should not have colored leaves yet outside of the greens and the yellow kind of coloring. And today we have these vibrant red leaves, kind of laying all around. And so, I didn't photograph all of them. I get very attracted to shape, but also the way the color kind of appears on them. So that's kind of how I pick what I'm photographing. Luca: And so you're mentioning your love of insects. Today when we were up on top of Black Rock summit, I heard that a spider got close to you. And you were bummed because you couldn't get a good photo of it. And I believe you have some other experiences of kind of non-human visitors coming and hanging out with you. So do you wanna get into that a little bit? Megan: Yes. I've had a visitor pretty much everywhere I've painted, from bees. I found this when I was up at Frazier Discovery Trail. This be-like creature that came and joined me for my whole paint time. I learned that it was not actually a bee. It was a form of a fly. It was a type of fly. But it had very much bee characteristics. And the cool thing about it was its back was spiky and black spiky to it. It was just incredible to look at. So I have great photographs of that. When I'm down by the water, there's a lot of these little purple butterflies that will come and hang out. I had a little bee come and sit on my paintbrush. And then probably the craziest one was when we were at, when I was on Limberlost. I had a deer that came. It was kind of walking on the other side of the trail from where I was sitting and working. And as it came down, it crossed right next to me, like, literally reached out and touched this deer. Which, of course, I did not. And it walked over to the decaying stump that I was painting and started eating my subject matter. And so I was like, all right. And that deer friend hung out with me for about a half hour. Another deer came up near as well. It was not. It was a little more worried about me than the first deer. And so it didn't get quite as close. And eventually the two of them went off grazing and the rest of the trail behind me. But, yeah. So cool. Visitors. Every place that I've gone. Tom: Yeah. You're making friends everywhere! Yeah. Every animal or insect. Do you have a favorite insect at all? Megan: I paint a lot of bees. And I paint a lot of butterflies and beetles. Oh, those are kind of the three that, like, in my typical work show up the most. Luca: And I think, um, you're definitely a good representative of a lover of bees. You actually have a honeycomb tattoo. Megan: Yeah. Luca: And I think that kind of ties it in with something we brought up in the original description. Just about these kind of repeated shapes and stuff. You just want to go into the honeycomb at all, or, you know, what was so meaningful about that pattern that you decided, you know, I want this piece of art to live on me. Megan: Yeah. So, I don't really know what it is about the shapes. Although I will say that beyond my art degree, I also have a math degree because I loved math and just took so many classes that when I graduated, they were like, oh yeah, you took enough classes. And also. So it was like a... Luca: Little bonus degree. Megan: It was kind of an intentional thing. I just, love the way math explains nature. And that's what math was created for. And so thinking about the way that happens is just really interesting to me. And in my own work, I also love using natural elements, to create textures and patterns and different things. And that's actually what I got to do with the art 180 and the groundwork. RVA I think, groups. And so I was able to share with them how I use natural elements. So one of the things that I brought with me were some wasp nests that had that honeycomb. And so to see the kids playing around with, stamping and texturing their own artworks, kind of brought me a little joy. It was, like, really interesting. I felt like that whole day was really interesting because everybody was essentially given the same set of materials and the solutions and paintings that each of them came up with were so vastly different. Just the way they decided to use the materials was so different. And so it was really exciting to watch these young artists, like, explore the materials and come up with solutions different than how I work, but in ways that also, like, worked really well and created amazing little paintings. Tom: Yeah. Luca and I were up there during that day, and I remember that some were more abstract in the pieces of art, and some were very literal. Yeah. So it was super cool to see the differences and the contrast between each piece of art. And it was very like little postcard art. So there wasn't much room to work on. But a lot of people did. They put a lot into that little area. And that's always something really cool to see, especially with younger people, getting to show their creativity. Megan: Yeah. And one of the things, like, so one of the things, one of the elements that I brought that they could stamp with was dried fruit. And it was interesting talking about the abstract as somebody stamped it and they made a more abstract piece where somebody else used it and created rolling hills. Tom: Oh, with the dried fruit? Megan: With the curve of the orange that they stamped. And so someone both using the same materials and one creating a much more abstract piece, somebody else using it to create a much more literal piece was really interesting. Tom: Yeah. It's got to be some poetry in that putting. Yeah, it's all coming from the same spot, but it's two totally different results. Yeah. That's amazing. Can we talk about more of where you are from and how you got started in doing your art? Megan: Yeah. So I am from Ohio. I grew up in Cincinnati. And really, I can't remember a time when I wasn't making art, as a little girl. My mom had a sewing table that had the machine that folded down and it became like a desk. Tom: Oh, cool. Megan: And that was my art studio in the laundry room, and it was like my place that I could go in and draw. And I look back, I do have some pictures of some of those things, and I thought I was making great art. And I look back and I'm like, oh, that's not as advanced as I thought I was at that age. And so... Luca: And was it always kind of painting art or at a young age were you doing all sorts of stuff? Megan: No, I was just drawing. Yeah. Much more drawing. People probably recognize they were like, if you can draw this thing and submit it, art school kinds of things. And they were always these, like, cartoon character things in the backs of magazines. Right. And so I'm, I'm giving away my age in terms of people actually still having magazines back in the day. I feel like they're not as popular now, but, you know, there's always, you know. So I was always drawing those things. Painting came in high school. I actually went to an all-girl Catholic school. And the art room saved me. I, and as a creative, as you can probably imagine, strict all-girl high school was a little bit rough. Yeah. But I had the most amazing art teachers, and so I really found my passion and my drive for becoming an artist then. But I also was an avid soccer player. And which is so weird because people aren't usually creative and athletic at the same time. That's a stereotype, but... Tom: Yeah, true, I definitely I was one of the other and it was not I was not athletic. Megan: And so, I did not end up going to an art school because I wanted to play soccer in college. And so that's how I ended up at the University of Findlay on a scholarship to play soccer. Paid for most of my tuition. Luca: What soccer position were you? Megan: I'm a goalkeeper. Tom: Oh, wow. Megan: Which I'm like, why was I a goalkeeper? I need my hands like... Luca: Haha, true. Megan: So I was like, yeah, but very passionate about goalkeeping and did a lot of training and stuff. And so, but there was a turning point where soccer went from being my first love to art being my first love. And, you know, I continued to play soccer until 40, but it wasn't as important to me as what I was doing creatively. Tom: Right. Luca: Do you want to go into that turning point at all? Was there a specific moment or it just sort of naturally, you just kind of got steered more towards the creative world? Megan: I think like, it's so funny because the Olympics are coming up. But like my dream as a young girl was to be on the U.S. Women's national team to the point that I did Junior Olympics. I did training, Olympic training program, stuff like that. Seriousness. Soccer is very political. It's a lot about who you know and, and, and coming out of college played like some on Semi-Pro when they were trying to get a women's league kind of moving. And so this is early 90s. And so, you know, definitely different than what we have in terms of soccer now in the US. And I just kind of feel like after college, I started working in a gallery and it was not fulfilling, and I needed to make more. And I also needed to both make more artistically and financially, I guess both. And so soccer became a hobby and art became really the career. And I just felt like it was more important than soccer at that point, if that makes sense. Tom: And that brought you here? Megan: Yeah. Tom: It all comes back around. Luca: And kind of throughout your, you know, interest in art and kind of more pursuing it as a profession. Do you feel like nature was always an important element of it, or I guess, is that your typical subject matter, or is that, you know, now that you're here in the residency program, now it's nature or I guess you could speak towards your relationship between nature and art and how that, how they combine. Megan: Yeah. It has always been nature. And I would say that my work is landscape, but probably not like typical landscape in terms of like the way I like to layer pattern as part of my background. Some of the paintings that I've done here in the park are a little bit more literal than my typical work, I would say. As a matter of fact, the piece from Bacon Hollow, I was like, is this it? Can this be all this painting is? There's not a million layers and all the things. It's very simple, but it captures that place kind of magically. Luca: Yeah. Megan: So, but it has always been nature. And the math part has moved kind of in and out. I will tell you that a lot of my earlier work was really related to processing losing my mom at a young age. I was 22 when my mom passed away. And I think that that idea of transformation and, like, where do we go and what happens to us, and how nature parallels our human life. Megan: I probably spent 20 years working through that, to be honest. And I came to a place where I felt like I was done thinking about the transition of our life and how the cycles kind of are repeated in nature, to a place that I kind of moved back into thinking about shape and the math part of it. And that has really been in the last 5 to 7 years. Tom: So it's been a journey to kind of work your way back up through through art and. Megan: Yeah, definitely. I think that's one of the things about art. And one of the things that can be really magical about it is just the way you can work through a lot of different things that are going on in your life. Yeah. By thinking about, process and your subject matter and, I feel like for a long time, I was painting about, you know, this idea of transformation without understanding why I was actually doing it. Luca: Yeah. Kind of just comes out subconsciously. Megan: It was coming out subconsciously. And then, I think in my, like mid to late 30s, which is, you know, over ten years after my mom passed, I started realizing why I was doing it. And I think once I realized the purpose in it, that allowed me to get to the place where I didn't need to keep making about it, if that makes sense. Luca: Yeah, absolutely. Yeah. So in addition to kind of your recognition of the subject matter and how it shifted, and you said kind of as you more recently took on a more, I guess, mathematics sort of direction, adding more shapes, do you speak a little bit more to how stylistically the art has shifted, in addition to how the subject matter has changed? Megan: I think the process in itself is the same, because even when I was thinking about the ideas around transformation, it was a very layered approach. Because there's layers in the cycle. Right? And so I think the thing that just changed was what the layers were, right. And so I think that was really kind of the change. And so that first layer now is really almost always some sort of repetitive nature shape. I'm working on a big piece while I'm here in the park also. And my first hike was Jones Run, and I took a picture up into the canopy of a tree, and it wasn't meant to go into the small painting from that day, but I kept coming back to that photo. And so what I did was created a leaf pattern that kind of fills the background of this. It's about two foot by four. By four foot? Yeah, two foot by four foot. And so those went down as like that first layer after, you know, you do your background painting and then start the layers and then, and next what I have added is actually a drawing of the boundary of the Shenandoah National Park. And so funny. Crazy. I at the time I started that I only had the huge National Geographic two-sided map of the park. So half the park was on one side. Half the park was on the other. So I started taping papers together, and my hope was that I would be able to use that in some way to try to transpose it onto the canvas. Luca: I think I saw that in the cabin there was like maybe like 20 different sheets of paper. And it was recognizably Shenandoah for sure. Megan: Yes. It ended up being double the size. I needed it to be for the canvas. And so, at one, I went out to get groceries, and when I came back, the ranger asked me if I wanted a park map. I was like, yes, please. And that had the whole park on one side. And I'm like, well, I got it pretty accurate for like seeing it in sections. But so now, I use that smaller map to be able to actually draw it a little bit easier onto the canvas. And I used a different material than I usually use. I actually grabbed some paint markers when I was at Target, and I used those paint markers for the first time on my canvas, which just made it a little bit of a quicker process. I am super in love with my work. Drawing with a paintbrush. And that was part of what I was also teaching the young people was how to use these really tiny paintbrushes. Can you water down your paint a little bit and then you can draw with it? And so I love to do really detailed line drawings of different natural elements, kind of as that last layer. So, right now I am adding that tree from Jones Run that I originally saw. And I actually have another photograph of a tree canopy that's also going to go on. And so I'm working on adding those trees and then I will start adding those drawing details. So I'm hoping that this piece is done by next Monday, which is my last day in the park. So I'm hoping to be able to wrap that piece up. But I want it to encompass the entire park. Yeah. Where the small paintings are very specific to the trail I was on. Yeah. Tom: Yeah. I noticed you used a lot of blue in your paintings and Megan: All blue. Tom: Yeah. I wanted to know what significance does the color blue have for you? Because I look at these paintings and I'm like, that looks like an underwater shot with beautiful coral. But no, it's Shenandoah. And you can, if you look deeper into it, into the layers, you can see Shenandoah. So what does that, how do you explain that? Megan: I don't know. Blue has been my color for as long as I can remember. And there's something that is just peaceful about it. For me, like, and it's not a cobalt blue. It is a, like, turquoise blue. Tom: It's one of the most beautiful blues. Really. Megan: And so I start with a phthalo blue, and I add just a little bit of yellow to it. And then from there, I can add white to get more of that pastel, kind of turquoise color. Sometimes add a little bit of black and it grays it just a little bit. But there is something that's just so peaceful about that blue color. And when we think about the world, think about, you know, we have blue in the waters and in the skies and really, wherever we go, there is blue somewhere, right? And, I don't know, I just feel very comforted by that color. And people will be like, well, nobody can look at your paintings and not know what your favorite color is. And I'm like, yes, or my house. My house has the same blue. Tom: Same color. Megan: All over. Yeah. Tom: I love that, gotta stay consistent and truly. Yeah. Speaking of being it being your last week in Shenandoah. How are you feeling about your stay in general? Megan: It's been remarkable. Tom: And how do you feel? Are you more happy or sad? Is it kind of a mixed bag? A double-edged sword to leave the park? Megan: Well, I am ready to leave. I miss my family. Tom: Yeah, I get that. Megan: Of course. But I also feel like I haven't done all the trails yet, and I'll just put out there. I am not a professional hiker by any stretch. I'm not going on anything that's as strenuous, because the ones that are moderate are plenty for me. But I still feel like I. I think the trails that I've picked, I've tried to represent different parts of the park. So I have areas from the south and kind of in the middle. And then what I when I was looking at the map, because I've been kind of like labeling where I've been, I realized I haven't gone above Skyland. And so I'm like wondering like what I'm missing up there and. Tom: In the northern section. Megan: Yeah. Luca: Has this been your first time staying at the Shenandoah National Park, or have you been here before? Megan: This is my first visit to Shenandoah. Yeah. Luca: I guess, what were some things, some maybe preconceptions that you had that maybe didn't end up true? Or just maybe. What are some things that surprised you or that you noticed about Shenandoah? Megan: I don't think I was really surprised. Although where I'm from is seven hours from here. Landscape wise, it's very similar. And so that is kind of what I expected. I guess when you're a landscape painter, isn't it your dream just to go out and be in nature and paint the things around you that might like? Is there a better thing than that? I don't think so. So I was excited to come for that reason. So. And I'll just tell you, I almost didn't apply for the residency because I think artists a lot of times have like, imposter syndrome. Right? And when I was looking at the guidelines, I was like, well, like, I'm an educator and like, am I really a true artist even though I do work in my studio? Regularly and I am creating and I am looking for shows and applying to jury things. But it is like, you know, I think all of us can get caught up in that imposter syndrome. And my husband said, what do you have to lose? Not getting it right. He goes, you would absolutely love being out in the very thing that you desire to paint all the time, you know? Megan: And so, he encouraged me to follow through and apply, and I am really grateful that he did. Tom: So what are you planning to do next after you leave Shenandoah? Megan: Well, I actually have a pretty large project back in Columbus I'm working on. It is a community-based project that I'm the lead artist on, creating ten sculptures that are going out into the community. So I definitely have that work that I will be getting back to. I have a lot of jigsaw work that I will be getting on, cutting things out of wood. But personally, for my own work, I have lots of paintings in my head that need to come to fruition. And so when I get back, I will jump back to real life and being a mom again and a wife again. And, getting back to. All right, I have taken hundreds of photos here, and I haven't been able to do all the paintings that I want to do. And so this place will continue to be my subject matter for a while longer. And then perhaps coming back the last weekend of September for Art in the Park. So waiting for more details about that, but might be back to share what I did while I was here. Tom: Like a sequel. Megan: A sequel. Luca: With the pieces that you've created in Shenandoah, what do you hope people take away from the paintings that you have made while you're here? Megan: Well, it's interesting because some of them are more literal, and some of them are glimpses of things that I saw. Right? And so I think overall, what I hope that people understand is that there's so much to see here. And if you really open your eyes to things around you, you can see amazing small things and large things. You know, those large things looking off and seeing the amazing shades of blue in the mountains. They go from this light, beautiful blue and they become greener and darker as they get closer. To seeing that acorn shell laying on the path as you walk down it. Yeah, there's so much to see here, so I hope people will come and visit. Tom: Megan, thank you so much for joining us today. Megan: Yeah, my pleasure. Tom: Thank you. Thank you for applying. Thank your husband for telling you to apply. Yeah. We're really happy you were here to be our July artist in residence. And, yeah. Thank you again. Megan: Thank you. It's a privilege to be here

Ally, Karl, Luca, and Tom talk about the parallels between sports and art. They then welcome Megan Evans, Shenandoah's second artist in residence, who captures nature's essence through her paintings. Megan discusses her artistic approach, sharing the specific elements of the natural world that inspire her. With a background in both art and math, she explores the patterns in nature that resonate with her work, revealing the connections she made with her environment.

October 1, 2024

3. Artist in Residence, Jo Clark

Transcript

Jo: Sometimes all I can see is all I know. Everywhere I look, something someone else has named the hickory. The riprap, the wild bleeding heart. I carry a map the size of my palm. When I consult it I think how lucky I am to have any guide at all. The fawn in the brush drinks from her mother. From this angle becomes only one part of a larger body. Like the stick bug wriggling towards the downed limb, the ringneck snake slipping under the black seal of the door. The little girl at the overlook bobbles along the stone wall, singing a song with only directions. Forward, backward. Forward, backward. Who made the word baby? Who held it like a song in their mouth. Rocking. Who looked out onto the blue ridge and thought. Daughter. My daughter. Daughter of the stars. I look out from the hollow, see trees so thick they turn velvet. I get it. Imagine a daughter tucking her in and away in this expanse. The safest place she could ever be. See, there's her shoulder, and there's her head nestled just so her round belly rising and falling with the steady beat of her breath. Swaddled in the oak, the ash, the locust. Why wouldn't the sky bend to kiss her? Why wouldn't I seek her peace everywhere. Pray for her sleep. Feet digging into the wild red clay. Her body protected. And the bright quiet of an August night. That's August night. This night and every night. Luca: Jo is a writer from Charlottesville, Virginia. She's interested in all the threads that weave through nostalgia and the simultaneous refuge and ruggedness in the natural world. She is a master of Fine Arts candidate at Syracuse University, where she teaches undergraduate writing and works for Salt Hill Journal. Before moving to Syracuse, she received her Bachelor of Arts in Creative Writing and Medieval and Renaissance Literature from the University of Virginia.Her work can be found in Sun Dog Lit, Hooligan Magazine, Whale Road Review, Volume Poetry, and elsewhere. She is a 2024 Elizabeth George Foundation Grant recipient and a finalist for Shenandoah Magazine's Graybeal-Gowen Prize for Virginia Poets. Jo was selected as the August Artist and will be in the park from August 5th through 26. For more information about Jo, visit Joclarkwriter.com. Jo, thank you so much for joining us. Jo: Thanks for having me. Luca: So you're from Charlottesville. You've been to Shenandoah before, but you just want to walk us through just some of the highlights of your residency in terms of the places you've gone, the hikes you've gone on, any big standout, memorable moments like that? Jo: Yeah, sure. I mean, I've always loved this region of Virginia. It's I'm like you said, right down the road from here. Um, Charlottesville, so I've always kind of been in the shadow of the Blue Ridge, but, it's been really awesome kind of being here and, hiking around. Um, some of my favorite hikes and far, I think I did the big run loop. That was really fun. I did it on, before the tropical storm came.Through, so it was still pretty dry. So the creek beds were pretty dry. But, that was really a gorgeous day. I really loved the Frazier Discovery Trail. I've done that one a few times, and, I was telling y'all earlier, I saw a rattlesnake and a deer at the top of one of the little overlooks. That was really, really wonderful. Yeah, I don't know. I did the the high top mountain lariat the other day. That was really fun too, just different, it's cool to do these hikes. After looking out over the mountains from the different overlooks and then to kind of, like, go inside of what you were otherwise looking at and kind of experience how that landscape changes. Once you're inside of it. But yeah, I mean all of the walks that I've been on, not just hikes, just have been really inspiring. Just last night, I walked out to the amphitheater. Here at Loft Mountain, and there are eight deer up there that were just hanging out with me for a while. And I was sitting up there and didn't even notice that they had been there at first until I heard them tugging at different grass and weeds and I don't know, It's amazing how quiet most animals are and how loud humans are. I guess that's one of my takeaways from my time here. Tom: Yep. So you went to a loft mountain, amphitheater. So you're at we're at a loft mountain right now. But you went to the amphitheater? And how are the stars up there? Jo: Oh, my God, they are beautiful. So obviously it's been a little bit overcast over the weekend when the Perseids were out, but otherwise it's just been such. A magical view from up there. Even just like the sun sets up there are really gorgeous too. But, yeah, I think it's rare that you get such an open, expanse of the sky. And that's such a special thing to experience just even once in your life. So to be able to go up there every night has been really awesome. Tom: Sure. Yeah. That place is, like, magical. Did you catch any meteors at all? Did like the clouds break? Jo: It was pretty overcast. I saw, like, a little glimpse of a few tails, but it was. It was pretty overcast. I guess that was right after. The tropical storm came through, so it was still pretty cloudy. Tom: But yeah. Did you stay up here for the storm? Jo: Yeah. It was. Wow. I don't think I've ever heard wind like that in my entire life. Tom: Wow yeah. Jo: Yeah, I guess it was that Thursday night or Friday or something like that when the power went out up here for a little bit. But, yeah, it sounded like a train was going by at certain points I was like is that a tornado? Tom: That's just a Shenandoah National Park train that we put in. Jo: It was just super, super windy, but really awesome seeing all the clouds kind of veil all of the mountains. I drove to one of the overlooks, when it was kind of the rain kind of peeled off and the just complete fog was really wild. You couldn't see like ten yards in front of you, but it felt like you were kind of swimming in a cloud. Tom: That's amazing. Do you find inspiration from weather events like that, or like just looking up at the stars for your poems or poetry? Jo: Definitely. You know, I don't remember who said it. Some old writer said, you know the most boring thing you could do is write about the weather. I completely disagree. Tom: Yeah the weather is awesome. Jo: I, I think the weather is awesome. I think it's such a good time stamp of where you are, especially in our changing climate. It's really fascinating, I think, to read works that feature the weather and then, and kind of have that as, like I said, some sort of time stamp for like the period that you're writing in. But yeah, I, the stars have inspired writers and artists for thousands of years, and I am not immune to that. Definitely. It's, I wish that I knew more about space. I always, I don't know, I feel like my friends and I have talked before about, like, you know, would you go to space if you were able to get on a rocket? And I part of me is like, yeah, sure. But another part of me is like, I know so little about the Earth already. I would rather get to know that first before I for a branch out, but, yeah, it was cool. Kind of, catching a little glimpse of the meteor shower. But otherwise, it's like looking up above you reminds you how, like, not insignificant you are, but how, how small your little. Luca: How vast everything else is. Jo: How vast everything else is. Definitely. Tom: How we're just a little blip on the timeline kinda deal. Jo: Yeah. Yeah, definitely. But you get to still experience it the same as every other creature does. Yeah. Luca: So yeah, the weather environment, obviously big source of inspiration. Do you normally write when you're out on location or do you kind of go on a hike and then when you come back, you kind of think it over and then start writing or how's your process? Jo: Yeah. Being here has actually pretty radically changed that process for me. You know, writing poems is a lot about intentionality and hiking is also about intentionality. You know, they I think there's the saying is like poetry is best words, best order or something like that. And hiking is kind of like best footwear compared to like, oh, awareness exactly of what you're doing and like, what you're bringing with you. So if I was going for a hike up at, you know, Syracuse, where I'm in school, I might bring, like, a notebook and another book and several things with me and maybe stop along the way and write things down. But I was really aware as I was going on hikes about like, how much I was carrying with me and how much I actually wanted to be carrying with me. So often I would try to just really experience the the hike or the walk in the sort of like relative silence and afterwards write stuff down and write down, like what stood out to me the most, with the knowledge that I could always go back and do that hike again. And maybe something different would stand out. But yeah, I mean, that intentionality definitely changed the way that I approached taking in inspiration, during the public program that I did, though, we did make little booklets and wrote along our way, which was it felt much more manageable to have something like a little zine, quite small that you could, like, tie around your wrist with a piece of twine, versus like carrying a big old Moleskine notebook around and I mean, sometimes I would write down, like a note on my phone, but also kind of like to not look at my phone when I'm out. Tom: I feel like writing is so much more therapeutic. Jo: Yeah. Keeping the tactile nature of it, I feel like really changes. I don't know, kind of similar to, you know, looking at where you're walking and making sure you're not stepping on like a loose rock or something. When you're when you're typing, there's so much room for error and you can just like delete, delete, delete where it's when you're writing something down you're much more aware of, like exactly what your hand is composing and what. Tom: And even intentional in that aspect. Jo: Yeah, definitely. So I, I typically try and write things down in a journal first, and then I'll type it up and make some wacky changes there and go back and forth a couple times. Luca: Yeah. Would you say that the hikes and some of the natural scenery, would you say that is like the subject matter of your poetry, or is it sort of an indirect inspiration where kind of the topic and the subject is elsewhere, and then just being around the streams or waterfalls that you're at kind of informs your word choice and how you're feeling when you write the poem. Jo: I think a mix of the two, some poems are definitely, very associative for me. So I'll be out. And, you know, I wrote this one poem while I was here that about when like a, like a bramble like, brushed past my leg and it reminded me of the time like a jellyfish stung me or something. So, like, those kinds of associative leaps might happen only by being in that environment, but they kind of, you know, slingshot you into your memories or something like that. Whereas sometimes you're writing explicitly about what you're seeing around you. And try at least for me, I'll try sometimes to use very little metaphor and to just make very concrete observations about what it is that I'm seeing. And that produces a very different effect than, you know, like I said those associative leaps that sometimes feel more personal. But, you know, being here and being in nature has kind of reminded me of, like, what a poem's job is in many ways, or like what to me, a poem's job is, which is not necessarily to reproduce an image, or to, you know, reproduce a certain experience, because that's nearly impossible but it's instead to kind of like settle into, like either an emotion or, kind of for me, like a memory or something and try to, recreate that for somebody else or recreate that for an audience rather than just try to say, like, the sun was gorgeous, like, everybody knows the sunsets gonna be gorgeous. And you know, that doesn't change the fact that, you know, you'll drive along Skyline Drive and see a gorgeous sunset and it, like, makes you laugh out loud because it's so gorgeous. But, you know, that's not the most interesting poem in the world and it's not super challenging or, like, the greatest creative endeavor in my book to try and describe a sunset. But it is, I think, more interesting to try to write, you know, what I am actually experiencing or like what feeling that evokes in me, with the hope that, you know, somebody can't return to that moment. But they might understand why it mattered. Tom: So when you're writing, are you actively thinking about how the audience may perceive your poetry? Jo: Almost never. Maybe I should. Tom: I don't know, maybe not. Right. Jo: But yeah, I mean, it's it's that's a very interesting question and one that I think a lot of writers and all artists think about audience. But a lot of times for me, I'm referencing things that, like a stranger wouldn't even know about. But it kind of feels like little Easter eggs sometimes, like for family or friends, especially when you're writing about, like a location, that's close to home, to have people be like, oh, I know what that word means. Like, I know what you what you're talking about when you say, like, rip rap or something, or I know, Like what? That overlook that you've just, like, obliquely referenced looks like, So, yeah, I don't think I've ever sat down to write a poem and I've been like, this is for the this is for the girl. But I have certainly written poems where I'm like, oh, I need to remember some part of this, and whether or not other people will be able to relate to that is not the prime, you know, I don't know advantage of the poem or something like that, but it's it's cool when somebody read something that I write and they're like, oh, I related to that. Or that made me think about the world around me in a different way. Tom: And at that point, it's just like happenstance that that happens naturally. Luca: And I find personally, if I'm listening to a song or, you know, reading a story or a poem, even if I don't fully understand the reference or I don't know exactly what they're talking about, I find that when artists include these, like, really kind of deeply personal little details about their life, I feel like it's relatable, just in the sense that, like, wow, this person is really sharing stuff kind of for them and for their own art and just it's not like they were intentionally thinking, oh, this person is going to relate to it. But just by putting that really personal detail, it becomes relatable because it's like you can think of, okay, maybe I don't have that same kind of notebook they're referencing, but I have my own possessions that kind of give me the same feeling and emotion that, you know, they're putting that into the song or the art for. Jo: Yeah, intimacy is very universal. It's the reason people like love songs. It's you can kind of transpose personal experiences onto your own life. And I think that's always going to be more touching than, you know, just generic. You know, like I said, the sunset was gorgeous. Tom: Like literal like Jo: Yeah, yeah. Which sunset? Which day? Tom: It was orange. Luca: Is there a, kind of intimate, personal moment in the park that you've written about that kind of stands out? Jo: I, I have been trying to write a poem for a long time about the the American chestnut blight, which I have still not successfully written that poem because sometimes, like, I don't know, your sometimes poems feel sort of, silly when, like, the natural world is already so like, it's there already, like, if you're thinking about, like, chutes sprouting up from, like, the living roots of a dead tree, and then you're like an American chestnut, it's going to grow like 20ft and then die again, like something like that it's like, that's the poem. What more could I add to that than just stating a fact about, the world? But I was trying to write about all of this, all or like the kind of like history of that tree or like the ecological history of that tree. And I was on a long hike and, I didn't have any service or anything and at the end of, like, I got all these texts from my mom that came through and they were like, you have taken years off of my life. Where where you that whole time? Because I guess I didn't tell her that I was going on on this long hike. And she had my location. And so I just, I was like in the middle of nowhere and I was just thinking about, like, family and, history in the way that, like, our actions impact other people even when we don't really think about it. And it was funny, but it also had a sort of sadness to it, too. So that's, you know, there, I guess, to answer your question, yes, I do write about personal instances and certainly like memory comes up a lot in my poems and like familial history comes up in my poems a lot. But sometimes it's like just these little things that pop up and I'm like, I will one day write a poem that somehow connects to these things. I don't know how I'll do it, or even if I'm the one to do it. Maybe somebody else, could better write it, but I like kind of beginning to tie those threads together. Tom: Great. Do you have a favorite poem or poet? Jo: Oh, boy, that is like one of the most difficult questions. Tom: I'm sorry. Jo: You do not have to say sorry. That's it. It's such a good question. Because I think your favorite poem or your favorite poet might change at different points in your life or depending on the day. I have like a little top tier of poets that I return to a lot. Aracelis Girmay is a really awesome poet, who writes really beautifully about nature and family and race and history. She has a book called “Kingdom Animalia” that's really wonderful. Marie Howe, another really great poet. She has a book called “What the Living Do” that I really love. Ross Gay has just really great poems about gratitude. There's like a famous poem called “Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude” that just kind of says thank you to things that you might take for granted. And that's so much of what poetry is for me. I've had mentors and poets before say, like, what hurt you into poetry? What's your deepest sadness that you're always writing about? But I came to poetry out of gratitude, I think, and out of looking around the world, and kind of having this all inspired feeling and wanting to somehow reproduce it. If not for anybody else, then just for me to look back on. So yeah, those are poets that I think kind of write well about family. Write well about nature. And, you know, Joy Harjo, another really great poet, used to be the poet laureate of the United States, really awesome indigenous writer. Yeah. So many different ones. But yeah, my favorite poem at the moment is probably a poem called, its a ars poetica, which means like the work of poetry or the labor of poetry by Aracelis Girmay. The end of it is just like I lived once. Thank you. It was here. And I find myself repeating that often as like a sort of little mantra. Tom: Wow what a powerful ending. Luca: Yeah. Tom: Well, that is a great list for me to, like, get into poetry or anyone who's listening to you in the poetry. So thank you for that. Luca: Do you have a favorite poem that you've written in the Park? Jo: Oh boy. Tom: That's a great question. Jo: That is a great question. I’ve written quite a few since being here. I've also revised quite a few since being here. I wrote a poem that, or I've been trying to write a poem about, like that translation of Shenandoah as Daughter of the Stars. That's like a really, like I said, trying doesn’t always mean it works. I wrote a poem about this incident with this bramble slash jellyfish memory that I liked. That's probably my favorite one that I've written since being here. Tom: That's a fun one. Luca: Do you want to read it? Jo: Sure. Tom: Would you want? Yeah. Yeah, that’d be cool if you’re willing to. Jo: Yeah. Right now it's called “Two Days Past the Perseids”. I made room for the man on Calf Mountain, and the brambles caught the skin of my leg. At first, I only noticed the sting until later, when I spotted the thorns chartreuse near fluorescent lodged into my quad, dotting the tanned skin bloody. Stabbing. So fast. The colors, the shape, the patchy stroke of a paint brush that's been washed too many times, bristles pushed against the sink’s basin and splayed and twirled around. It's funny, in that same exact spot, some six years before a jellyfish wafted across me in the Atlantic, left near identical welts, poke berries splashing on the skin. It’s funny parts of this land were once lodged under an ancient sea. There is memory everywhere, if you want to see it. Even now, past the apple trees, the sprawling meadow, through the thicket and down the ridge, my blood trailed along remembering. That night in bed, I pushed back the blankets, ran my thumb over the hot, raised tracks. Mid-August meteors mapped across my thigh. Tom: Wow, that was beautiful. Jo: Thank you. Tom: It's very beautiful. That's funny because I was finding myself relating to that in not even literal ways, but just like you, the brain kind of like puts meaning into things. I don't know, I don't even explain that. But that was really pretty that was beautiful. Luca: Yeah, it's a great blend of literal and kind of just what you were talking about earlier, that kind of historical familial connection. It's like the part that really stuck with me is just like you kind of leaving your blood out on the trail. And just how I think that's just a really great image of how interconnected we are and how, you know, obviously we always follow the principles to leave no trace, but no matter what by being there. Tom: Sometimes it can't be helped. Luca: But just by being there like we're becoming a part of the ecosystem and, you know, just even leaving footprints. Yeah. You know, maybe that is a nice little divot for an ant to climb through or something, you know. Jo: Absolutely! Tom: If the ancient ocean is what um. Because I'm sure there were probably jellyfish under here millions and billions of years ago. I don't know, I wasn't around, but I like to imagine that. Yeah, that was really pretty. Yeah. Thank you for sharing that. Jo: Thank you so much. Tom: I can't stop thinking about it. It's like the Perseids the ending part too like you kind of related that back to the beginning of the scratches on your leg as well. Yeah. Wow. Jo: Yeah I think, I think we always kind of look for patterns around us no matter what. Like, you know, the way we look at constellations and shadows, all these sorts of things, we're trying to like map for ourselves into a way that we can understand them. And it's cool when your own body reflects it, like. Luca: You mentioned earlier how gratefulness is one of your biggest kind of driving forces for your poetry. What are some things you're grateful about Shenandoah? Jo: Oh, that's a great question. I mean, I'm so grateful just for a space that is so open for both people and nature and is like so easily accessible to so much of just like Virginia itself. But, so the surrounding areas too. It's been awesome seeing so many different people hiking these trails with their families, like old and young. I don't know. It's it's cool to be on a path and know that a lot of people have walked it before you and it's cool to, you know, talk to some of the other Rangers here and like, learn more about the history of the park, its highs and lows and, I don't know. Yeah. I'm grateful to be in a space where, like, the environment is really honored. It's cool to, you know, be in a landscape where animals aren't being hunted or anything and to, like, interact with animals. Outside of that kind of, like, schema. But yeah, I mean, I'm grateful that I'm close enough to Charlottesville that some of my family were able to come do some hikes with me, too. I'm grateful that the arts are respected enough to have their residency made here. Yeah. I don't know. I'm grateful that I'm able to walk around and you know that my body guides me places. There's a lot of things to be grateful for. And hopefully, hopefully, they all come up one way or another in the in the things that I write, even if they're sometimes clouded by, you know, a bramble catching your leg or something I'm grateful for that too. Luca: Yeah, might have been a little annoying at the time, but made for a great poem so. Jo: Exactly. Luca: So you're from around here and you've been to the park before. How would you say that your residency. Now, how is spending time here kind of with a more focused goal in mind? How has that changed your experience in the park? Jo: That's a good question. I feel like just having, like a continued presence here has changed like, oftentimes if you're coming for like an afternoon or the day or a day or two, it's with the knowledge that, like, you have to make up for the time that you have. So you have to kind of like, rush through things. But being here, and kind of moving around a little bit more slowly has let me really kind of honor my interests and, honor like the urge for repetition, like to go back to hikes, and not like every day try and do something new necessarily, and kind of to look for similarities or, you know, when we did this public program and we made these little booklets, I done that like Blackrock summit circuit, like so many times at that point. It's a quick hike. But just noticing how many different things I was able to notice, even like the fourth or fifth time I'd done it, was really awesome. And knowing that I could go back there five more times and probably notice a whole other host of of, you know, observations and or like just ways the light hits certain places. So, yeah, being able to be here for, you know, like almost three weeks now has definitely allowed for like patience and repetition in a way that just kind of coming for the day wouldn't have. Luca: So have you actually gone to the same hikes multiple times since you've been here? Jo: Yeah, yeah. So I did the, Blackrock several times because it was, you know, that view is absolutely insane and so beautiful. I've done the Frazier Discovery Trail quite a few times because they're right by Loft Mountain and like I, the first few times I did it or the first time I did it, I didn't see like any wildlife except for like one deer and I was like, ooh, interesting. And then the second time I did it, it was really quiet and I was the only one on it. And I went up to this one little rocky overlook, and these three vultures took off all at once. And I was so struck by just how large they were and how quiet they were, as they flew. And then the third time I went, I saw this rattlesnake in this deer hanging out together, you know, it's like, wow, that just it's things that you maybe wouldn't have seen just or even noticed your first time doing a hike because you're so, focused on, on the path or focused on, like, kind of maneuvering it. Whereas the more times you do something, the more you're able to actually look up and look around. But yeah, lots of lots of hikes. I've, I've done the, yeah, the high top mountain lariat. That one is so gorgeous I wrote down more of them, I feel like I've forgotten all the things that I've done. But it's been Turk mountain. Oh, my God, that was probably one of my favorites. All the rock scrambles are really fun up there. But yeah, it's it's cool to be in a place that's like, so, so old that's like older than memory just to be like, you know, climbing over a rock and, like, hugging it and being like, wow, you're the oldest thing I've probably ever touched and maybe ever will. I dont know, like, it's it's a cool it's a cool place to be and a cool place to return to. So I highly recommend for people who have been to the park before to maybe go back to some old, some old haunts and try it out again and see what stands out this go around. Tom: Because the environment is always changing. And you never know what you're going to see. You could see me walking down that trail. Yeah. And then it's probably not as cool as a rattlesnake but I'll wave I’ll be like “hey”. Jo: Maybe more friendly than a rattlesnake Tom: True Luca: Do. You want to go into your studies of medieval society? Jo: Oh, boy. I, I guess I, I, I have kind of thought a little bit about, once I was in a class with, professor named John Parker at the University of Virginia and he was talking about how little we think about how dark nights would have been in, like, the Renaissance period or medieval period and how, like, the only way to get light on, like, a really dark night would be through these kind of candles that produce this thick, thick smoke. And how, like, heavy and weighted that indoor space would have been. And being out here, especially when the tropical storm came through and we lost power for a few days, and it was like a new moon to I was like, oh, wow. It is so so dark and so cloudy and like, there's a heaviness to that, but it's also like, feels very maybe more secure out here than it would in like a medieval town or something. But yeah, I think it's, it's cool to enter into a space, where you can kind of re-familiarize yourself with like, darkness and with quiet, and with these things that like, now in our modern world, we really take for granted and can so easily kind of opt out of just by turning on a light or turning on, you know, music on your phone or something like that. So yeah, that's been a really cool experience here with, without internet or you know, without cell service. A lot of the time to just kind of disconnect and see what catches your fancy when you don't have all of the conveniences of your phone to distract you. Luca: This is kind of going way back. Yeah. Earlier we were talking about just kind of nature and poetry, sources of inspiration, and you were mentioning how, you know the purpose of the poem for you at least. And I'm obviously paraphrasing here, is not just to sort of reproduce the picture of what's in front of you. You know, me and Tom are photographers and videographers, so that's exactly what we do. But I was just wondering, do you ever just with your phone, take photos and you're out on the trail and use those as, like, a reference image or, is it really just kind of absorbing the experience and then thinking about it later? Jo: Oh, definitely. I take plenty of photos. I, I frequently wish that I was some sort of visual image that I could, you know, reproduce things, or like, have the eye for it that a photographer might or that, you know, a painter might. But that's just not where my talents lie. But yeah, I love to take pictures and videos of, like, where light is catching, like, just one leaf or something, or where a shadow, like my shadow maybe looks like it sort of blends in with the shadows of trees or something like that also just there's so many gorgeous overlooks I've had, I've taken so many pictures of the mountains in the past few days, and I'll get service and I'll send them to my friends and they'll be like, beautiful. Is that the same place you were before? And I’m like, no, you don't get it. This is uniquely beautiful this time. But yeah, all of that is really special, especially, you know, like, try as I might, to write down everything that I'm experiencing in a day, being able to have these photos and look back at them when I'm not in the park is really special to kind of reconnect and really inspire myself. So yeah, lots of pictures been taken. Not many drawings, unfortunately. Tom: Do you think that poetry can be visual art? Because I feel like describing what you're feeling and the, the environment around you in such a way that allows other people to imagine that in their head. Jo: Like, yeah, I mean, you can certainly summon imagery that is like incredibly poignant and clear in poems. And you can also like, people do visual poetry or like, collage with poetry. Sometimes that's something that I like to do occasionally, not for publication, but just for myself in my journal. Like, I'll like, take photos, and like, print them out and or, you know, clip things from like, journals or magazines and collage them in such a way with words that kind of reproduce, not necessarily a poem itself. But like, you know, an encapsulating version of an experience. But people also work with, like, the white space on a page in my, arrange the words in such, an order that it is called like concrete poetry, where you might be writing about a mountain and the way the words are flowing on the page looks like a mountain or something like that can certainly do that with, with, like, trees and interesting ways too. But yeah, there's, there's ways to certainly imbue poetry with the visual arts. I'm just not the best. Luca: How would you describe your style of poetry? Jo: I, I think I have a bit of a narrative flourish in my poems. I like to tell a little story. Occasionally I, I'm really interested in sounds like lyric poetry. I'm really interested in, like, the music of a landscape certainly stands out to me. We can hear some, you know, crickets and birds right now. I, I like kind of trying to transform sound into language as best you can. There's this, when you're writing about a piece of art, it's often called, like, an ekphrastic poem. From, like a Greek word, which, I'm not sure exactly what ekphrastic means, but it's you're when you're writing about art, out of something. But I try I think about that a lot with music and sound of how you can write about sound in a way that, maybe summons it for people. Birdsong is really interesting. I love it when people try to, make like the phonetic set of, like, phrases fo birdsong. Like I'm forgetting which maybe it's like the Yellow Warbler or something where it's like “sweet, sweet, sweeter than sweet”, like these little like phrases that birdwatchers will come up with, like onomatopoeia for birdsong, I find really interesting. Luca: People always say for the towhees it's “drink your tea”. Jo: Yeah, I love it. Like I think that's so. It's sweet that humans try to do it, and it's cool when you can, you know, recognize it or like a bluejay sounding like a, like a rusty hinge or something like I like trying to think of things like that. Luca: With the poems and the work that you've created. What's something that you hope people take away about Shenandoah when they read your work? Jo: Oh, that's a good question. I'll maybe just like how I don't know, beautiful is not the right word, but I know I talked about it a little bit in that introduction like that. There is a real refuge to the natural world. But in order to experience that refuge, you also have to take care of it. And that in order to live and write and love these places, you have to, you know, tend to them too, and not take them for granted and, you know, be grateful for the people that take care of the park and also for the, you know, the world around you and do what you can to kind of honor that too. Luca: Okay. This is an impromptu poetry challenge. Jo: Oh, boy. Oh, God. Luca: If you could describe Shenandoah in 1 to 5 words. Jo: Oh, God. Wow. Luca: This is on the spot. We're not. We don't have any crazy expectations here, but. Jo: Describe Shenandoah in one five words. I don't know if I'll be able to say. Luca: Or your experience in. Jo: My experience in Shenandoah, in one, two, five words. Tom: It's difficult. Jo: To decide what the five years. Because I think that might take me five years to decide. I don't know. Intentional. Quiet. Beautiful. Beautiful isn't even a good word for it. Awe-inspiring and friendly. It's a friendly place. Tom: That's very nice. It's very nice words. I'm sure Shenandoah thanks. You. Luca: I feel like we've touched on this a little bit. Speaking of professors and, learning poetry and art in school, what have you learned during your three, four weeks here? Jo: Oh, wow. That is a good question. Yeah. I feel like I have learned more about, like, I was kind of saying earlier, but, like what I want a poem to be, And what kind of intrigues me about writing a poem? And the times that I tried to like, force a poem out here, I was like, I should write about the way that bird like, was sitting on a log. That that never works. Like you can't force it off. And, it's it's not a muse. It's not like a burst of creative inspiration, necessarily. Writing is a practice and one that you can, you know, develop over time. But there is still a kind of element of, surprise to it. And you can't really make yourself write about any one topic, but there's so much to be just organically inspired by out here. If that makes sense. Tom: Yeah, there must be a contrast too, because or between, being here and then if you're in a city environment or do they have any similarities, the inspirations and, Jo: You know, I, I definitely seek out, like, quiet, natural spaces when I'm like, yeah, up in like, upstate New York, there's so many beautiful lakes and, like, gorgeous places to be, up there too. So, yeah, I mean, I'm always inspired by, like, hearing things that other people say, like in that poem I just read, just being at, this one overlook and this little family, which together, I like, just like eavesdropping a little bit like hearing what, what people are up to. As interesting as it is to write about nature, I think, often it feels a little flat without people also engaging with it. So I find myself in like a city environment, also kind of looking out for how other people around me are engaging with the environment. But yeah, I often kind of look for similarities in things that I've read. I while I was here, I read a book called Barbarian Days, by William Finnegan, which is all about surfing. It's a surfing memoir. And he mentioned, he, he described surfing at this one point as, he well, he came back from a morning of surfing and he said his brain was aflame with 8 or 10, brief glimpses of eternity the way, like the waves were curling. And I was thinking about this one time I was at Lake Ontario, and the sky was really hazy, and the water was the exact same color as the sky. It was this complete reflection. And if you've been to Lake Ontario, it's very still sometimes, and it takes a while to get deep. So I was just kind of wading for a really, really long time and I was like, this was that was kind of what he was saying, like a brief glimpse of an eternity of like, you could just I felt like you could be there 100 years. And sometimes being here at like, you know, a certain summit of a hike, even though, you know, the, the world is actively changing around you and these mountains that have been here thousands and thousands, millions of years are still actively weathering, and eroding. There is this sort of feeling sometimes of like, I could stay here in this moment and maybe nothing would change, except the light around me. And it does kind of feel like you're a part of, like, a little, a little tiny eternity. So, yeah, I think I, I definitely make connections between what I, like, read in different places. Like what other media I'm consuming in other places that kind of help, help link like a more of a city or like urban landscape to a more rural landscape too. But yeah, just depends. I don't know if I really answered that question. Tom: That was a great answer. Thought that was great. Thank you. Yeah. Luca: One question I was thinking about earlier. Why poetry? Why is this your medium? Why is this your art form? What is so awesome and powerful and cool about poetry? Jo: That's a tough question and a good question. It's tough because it's just what I've always done. I've never, I mean, I've tried other art forms. I've. I've tried doing, like, painting and visual arts and I wasn't, it didn't land for me. And I love you know looking at other people's art. But poetry has always just come really, really naturally to me. Ever since I was a tiny little girl, I was writing poems and like, writing little stories. So for me, it's kind of like breathing, I don't know, like, I when I go and experience something out in the world I have, like an innate desire to record it and keep track of it. I've filled so many journals with just, like, little, little phrases even that I've like, heard or seen around me. So yeah, I think if, if you were scared or turned off of poetry at all by your academic career, which many people have been and certainly will, it continues to be taught in the way that it is. I would look for moments in your everyday life that, like, you find yourself stopping and thinking like, oh, I wish I can remember that forever and like a poem is often a good way to kind of put a pin a pin in your life. And yeah, that's how it's always been for me. But yeah, I, I recommend giving poetry a shot to anybody who has maybe thought a poetry life isn't for them. The Greek word poieo means to create. And that's what poetry comes from. So if you're, if you're making something, if you're making something from words, you're and you're doing it intentionally and you know, genuinely, earnestly. Then you can make a poem. Tom: Wow yeah. Luca: And to anyone out there who feels like they can't make a poem, I feel like even if you're not studied, if you don't feel like you're a great writer, I feel like everyone's perspective and everyone's experience will just like it's worth it to, you know, create that into an art form that can be shared with other people. I mean, similar to other forms of art, you give ten people the same camera in the same spot, they're all going to see and notice something different and come away with radically different pictures. So highly recommend and give poetry a shot. Jo: Absolutely. And you know, you don't have to share your poems ever. Sharing your writing is like incredibly vulnerable and scary. But I've written hundreds of poems that I will never seek publication for that they're just for me. And, like, kind of like keeping a journal. It's it's a good way to kind of keep in touch with yourself and be mindful of so your poetry doesn't have to be for anybody but yourself. Tom: And like you said, you can put a pin in that period of time and you can always go back to it and experience it again and learn from experiences through poetry. Luca: So and look at your poems from four years ago. I'm like, oh my gosh, I was so horrible. Okay, why did I do that. Jo: Yeah that is so embarrassing. Yeah. And then eight years later you might look back at them and like them. So yeah. Yeah. Luca: Well, Jo, thank you so much for spending time in Shenandoah and creating your amazing work that we got to hear a little bit of today. And I hope you enjoyed your first podcast experience. Jo: I did this was awesome. Y'all were great you made me feel very comfortable. Tom: Oh thank you. I learned a lot. I'm sure Luca did as well. Jo: It's awesome talking to both of you. Tom: You too Luca: Thank you so much. Jo: Thank you.

Join Luca and Tom as they speak with Jo, a writer from Charlottesville, about her residency at Shenandoah National Park. Jo shares how the park's stunning landscapes and wildlife inspire her poetry, discusses the therapeutic nature of writing outdoors, and emphasizing the significance of weather as a poetic muse. Through her experiences, Jo reveals a deep connection between her craft and the beautiful environment surrounding her.

November 4, 2024

4. Artist in Residence, Susan Patrice

Transcript

Luca: Susan is a documentary and contemplative photographer. Her photography and public installations focus on the Appalachian landscape and its people, and feature intimate images that touch deeply into questions of place and belonging. Since 2016, her work has primarily explored the nature of visual perception and its impact on her feelings of kinship with the natural world. She engages in intimate, gestural conversations with the land through the use of hand-built cameras designed in response to place. She lives in Marshall, North Carolina, where she is the director of Makers Circle and a co-founder of the Kinship Photography Collective. Susan was chosen as the September Artist and will be in the park from September 9th through 30th. Susan, thank you so much for being with us. Susan: Thank you all. Tom: Yeah, thank you so much. So my name is Tom and I work in the media department, and this is our fourth podcast. We're here with Luca as well. Luca. Luca: Hello? It's me. Luca. Media Intern. Tom: Yes. Welcome back. yeah. Again, thank you for joining us. I'm Susan. We've been really excited about this conversation in particular. Not that we don't love our other artists here, but Luca is probably close to, mine and Luca's hearts because we work so much in visual media and photography and videography, and we are very excited to learn about your, interpretation of photography in the park. So I say we get right into it and, start talking about photos. Luca: Yeah. well, on our drive up here to Loft Mountain Campground, Tom and I couldn't help notice that the entire national park is shrouded in thick, thick fog right now. There's a little bit of danger to that when you're out driving, but there's also, beauty to that, especially with all the fall colors. And as we're sitting here right now on this patio, we just see all the fog kind of in the background. Susan, do you wanna talk a little bit about how the weather has maybe impacted some of your work and just your thoughts and feelings about fog? Susan: I have been loving this weather. So normally I photograph in early morning and late evening. I build cameras that actually photograph round. There's a long story about how I came to do that work in that very particular way. But within that frame, that round frame, I'm usually looking at these very intimate, entangled relationships between their the kind of their own little ecosystems in a way. Right. And so because the work is already really complex, if you add a really contrasty light or you add these other elements of you know what I’m saying, so there's something about the fog or late afternoon, early evening. There's this way in the morning, you almost feel the light start to emerge out of the subject. And then in the late afternoon, there's this way that light kind of clings, right? It almost holds. And I love I love that quality. There's a kind of intimacy of the light in contact with the subject. So if we think about a tree, at those times a day, there's the way that you can still feel almost the light wrap around it, or sit kind of softly on the surface of the leaves. And especially in these kind of foggy environments, when the light is really bright, it can be hard to track those very subtle changes that can arise. when you're intimate with a place. And so, yeah, I've been loving the weather. It's funny because you're right at this edge. You want it to be foggy, but you don't want it to be getting your camera wet. Tom: Don't wanna be engulfed in the fog. Susan: You know, so you're, like, trying. I'm always, like, walking out there. And because there's mist, which is going to be wet, but then there's rain, right? And so, Yeah. So it's been, it's been fascinating also just to see it in, in different, different times a day and yeah, the weather's been this is my favorite weather, so, I'm thrilled about it. This other thing I want to say about light as photographers, like light, is our medium. Like, that is what we do, right? We work with light at the end of Einstein's life, that one of the things he lamented is that while he understood the deeds and properties of light, that we're no closer to really understanding the mystery of what light is. And in essence, we only know light by what it touches. So I love, I love that. I love that, and I think of that similarly around the role that art plays or even the best of us in the world, we're made known by what we touch, by what we illuminate, by what we, you know, our seeing, our awareness, our consciousness is the way our light touches, right touches the world. And so now whenever I see light, there's a way that it it feels tender. It feels intimate. Right. So you're actually seeing the objects that you're photographing. You're actually seeing it's response to light. So it's already a conversation. The light is in conversation with the subject. And that conversation in that tone of that can change radically from minute to minute. But and so it's easy to see right in the mornings or whatever when things are contrasty and really dramatic. And I think you I think you're talking about that a little bit, this idea that we're supposed to we're always looking for that great shot, that really special moment that, you know, Tom Rankin, who is the former director of the center for Documentary Studies, says that most photographers think their next great photograph is a plane ride away. Right. The next big trip. Right. But I think for those of us that practice in nature start to realize that the next great photograph is the next walk away. It's the next inch away. And the more intimate we become with the place, the more we know it. And we know that about portraiture, right? That we have to be in conversation with our subject. We need to have a feel for who they are and what they offer. And, it's hard to condition people out of this, what we call kind of camera club ready, camera club consciousness, where there's like the ten great photographs and re-engineer that so that really the camera is a tool for connection. And it's a way of another way of listening in a way. And it's hard to think about a site based medium as being a form of listening. But, I think there is visual listening, like really watching. Right? So I think as photographers, we have this really, really unique relationship because, I also work in other media and I can go and have an experience, but as a poet, I might go back and interpret that experience. But photography offers one really unique thing, which is we make our work in in relationship to matter. Like the world has to be there. Yeah. Unless you're I mean, there's Luca: Ways you can stage. Susan: I'm using photography in a very like wide and generic sense, but the work that we do through the Kinship Photography Collective, and then I do when I teach, in which we'll do a wonder walk, for the arts in the park. That'll be really great is kind of re-engineering that, shifting that relationship, kind of flipping it over. What if the camera is a tool for intimacy? And what if the climate crisis is actually just a crisis of intimacy? What if the more we pay attention, then there's something and y'all know it, right? In photographing, there is an emotion. There is a feeling akin to love. Luca: Yeah, yeah. Susan: That emerges through our quality of attention. And attention becomes care. Care becomes action. I think it's a much better path than the path that we've been trying, and I think failing at in a lot of ways, which is to scare people. Yeah, guilt people. And shame people. And I think we need to be guilted and shamed. I think we humans have done a lot of damage. But I do think love is a straighter path. Yeah. and what we notice when we teach and we iPhone users, whoever, when we say what happens if this becomes a tool for curiosity and wonder what happens if we come in with the kind of curiosity that includes humility and decenter? You know, we're human centric, so let's decenter the human and what does it mean to start listening to the land and get curious about what the land's experience might be? And so that sort of the, that's sort of the, the, the path in, in terms of how we, how we teach and how we, how we do our own work or the collective that I'm in. Most of us work and think that way. Yeah. Tom: So there's a huge emotional connection between not only you and your environment, but your camera and the environment as well. So you have to really you said earlier, you can't just take a plane ride to somewhere for a day or two and capture an amazing shot. You have to become engulfed, intimate with your environment as well, so you can know it, feel it, and then you can show it in the end. Susan: Yeah. Luca: And I feel like that is like especially true when you're talking about nature photography or wildlife photography. You know, you brought up portraiture and how, you know, you kind of have to have this relationship with your subject that you're photographing because, you know, you can have the best camera or the best composition in the world. But if the person you're photographing doesn't feel comfortable and they just kind of look awkward, you're not going to get the greatest photo and just kind of what you're saying. Also about visual listening, just so many kind of things are going off of my head, especially as a bird and wildlife photographer, you have to literally listen, in order to hear the bird calls, in order to identify what bird or where the bird is at, and you have to be familiar with the bird, you have to know if, oh, is this the bird that hops around on the ground? Or is this the bird that's going to go from tree to tree to tree, or just the bird that's going to sit in one spot and then call and then go to the other spot. And you really have to become familiar with them. And in one sense, kind of part of your duty as a nature photographer is you need to have this relationship, but there needs to be a healthy distance, obviously, between you don't want to get too close to the bird's nest, you don't want to disturb its natural. you know, the goal of me as a bird photographer, I want the birds to not even know I'm there so they can just go and do their thing, and I can get the shot that really showcases their true natural behavior. So you have to have this deep relationship. But sometimes, especially in a natural world context, that relationship has to kind of have this respectful distance. And I feel like that really comes from not only loving the process, but, you know, I love the birds, so I don't want to mess up their natural way of life. Susan: The care, the care that emerges in that space. Yeah. My process, a couple things I want to respond to that you said. One, back to the camera. I mean, I think we often that we forget that there is there is a triad in photography, right. It's self other. And then we do have equipment that we're mediating this conversation through. There's a medium through which this conversation happens. And so I do think whatever materials people choose to work with, whether it's their iPhone, there is a way of getting to know and resonating with the equipment. Right. And the other thing is how coercive I like the even the language of photography has some violence in it, right? Taking shooting. Right. And so what we often see is that people come in with an agenda, I'm coming for the weekend. I'm going to get a waterfall, I'm going to get a vista, I'm going to get this bird. I'm going to get whatever. And it it has this kind of like linear trajectory that you're the world is supposed to deliver up for you, right? Tom: Take a list of chores you have to do. Susan: Right. And then I've got this lens and I've got this thing and it's all there in service to me. Service to my photograph. Right. And like, that's part of the practice of not having like in a way it's another extractive relationship. Not as bad as sound extractive relationships, but still extractive. But even what we notice is even if people start in that kind of extractive way, the love still happens. if they're if they're open to it, if they're if they're curious, if they're, if they're willing for that to kind of unfold. And what we notice is that when we really slow down and let this power of beauty have its way with us, it also contains something of a quality of love and wholeness, and that people feel incredibly nourished by beauty. And we equate beauty often with pretty. So we make this mistake of like, oh, I'm going to go see the perfect pretty waterfall. But in the end, that that beauty, once we start to learn to see it and respond to it, that it's like it doesn't always happen for me. Like I can go out and I'm kind of photographing and can feel very forced. My first week here was like a very forced week, and I'm trying to get to know the place and I'm like, somebody gave me a residency and I better produce some decent photographs and just all on top of myself. And then also annoyed, annoyed with the camera, annoyed with the tree, enjoying it. Like you can feel what that creates. Then there's a way after the letting go, the photography feels a little bit like the open hand. And when we start to resonate with the qualities of our medium, what we really have is a medium of sensitivity, a medium of openness, right of medium rooted in time and multiple kinds of time. And so now the way I try to describe it to our students is that you come in, you've got this moment where you can really just observe, get really curious. Sometimes I'll even ask questions and they're they're anthropomorphized questions, right? They're human centered questions. But the question of I wonder what wants to be seen today? I wonder what it kind of, Robin Wall Kimmerer, who wrote the book Braiding Sweetgrass. She had this question that she asked her students and and on one hand, the question can seem very human, egocentric, and on another hand, if you think about it. So she asks her students, do you think the earth loves you back? So on one hand it's like, oh, we're only going to love something that can love us back, which is kind of egocentric, right? Right. But it's really if you get the magic of the question in the way she asks it to ask, does the Earth love you back implies an agency on the part of the Earth, right? So to ask that question is to radically change the conversation. Oh, is a relationship possible? So the work that I do, which is a stretch, I think, for some people to think about it this way, I think about it in terms of a collaborative, like, I feel like what I do is collaboratives near Asheville. So in the Appalachians, I photograph the same three square miles. Originally it was just going to do one year, every single day, no matter what, no matter what was there, showed up. And that did get extended to three years. But, I kept everyday asking, I wonder how I wonder what wants to be seen today? I wonder how it wants to be seen. Like how what would need to change in me? And then I talk to indigenous. I talk to scientists. Now, I discovered Arthur Zajonc and, plant spirit medicine people like, I was talking to everybody and I was like, if you are going to have a conversation, how do you prepare? Like how do you prepare yourself what's really possible? And some of the advice that I got, one of the most interesting was from a botanist who said, well, you know that photosynthesis and light like you already have a medium, so you have a medium of light. I would focus on that as the primary language of your conversation and see what happens. Then I talk to this other person, this amazing herbalist actually from this area, Kathleen Meyer, and she teaches this practice called Expanding Peripheral Vision. And it's a lot to do with the fact that we're very tight in our eyes, and we look at screens and we're very we're just we're very tight. And what does it mean to start to relax the eyes and to, you know, expand peripheral vision. And Kathleen's amazing. She's amazing teacher. She won't tell you what to expect. And then I was working with this man, Warren Grossman, who wrote a book To Be Healed by the Earth. And he also is, a somatic, practitioner. He's a amazing psychotherapist that uses all of these wonderful kind of physical practices grounding, listening, all these expanded. So when I was working with Kathleen and Warren, what happened was as I was going out and asking these questions, you know, like, how can I get more attuned to this place? I was doing this expanding peripheral vision. And the most bizarre thing happened is as a photographer, I'm in the outside of the world looking at it right here's me, here's the world. And even no matter how much I was doing that, I'm still an outsider. I'm looking at nature. I'm not necessarily a part of nature. I was, you know, was I had a. Slow road home, basically, to. Say that and what would happen is my peripheral vision would start to expand. Something really strange happened in my sensation of being in the place. So instead of being on the outside looking in, I suddenly it shifted that I was in the center of an enveloping landscape that I was also a part of, and this sense of separation completely disappeared. And you can't hold that for very long, like your body's so geared. Right? So my vision would snap back in, and then as soon as it would, I could feel myself pull back out to the outside. I was like, whoa, what just happened? And then I would do it again. And it would be like, it would be like the world's kind of linear this way. And then I would get inside of it. It would just almost start to turn. And then the more I practiced that, it took a while. And particularly people who have had trauma or high stress, their vision is even more constricted. So then you think about trauma, traumas, often this feeling of being outside, right? You don't feel, you don't feel like you belong. Sometimes it's part of that thing. So as it started to soften and widen and soften and widen, all of a sudden I had this strange feeling of almost like a pop. And then I realized, of course I. Should know this. Because I work with lenses. All lenses see round, right? So our eyes are lenses if we really relax and now I have a hard time, like I have to practice pulling it in. But if you relax your vision and just notice, you're actually always seeing round. But we're trained in linearity. We're trained to see everything. You know, windows square like everything, right, as it were. And so we forget that the natural way of seeing is round, and that cycles around like you kind of return back to this, the sense of the circle. So I hand build cameras once that happened as like, okay, I see the world differently now. How can I construct a camera that gets closer to the way I see? And I didn't want it to be fisheye, because that's a kind of weird distortion. So I when I say I build cameras, I take lenses from one camera and back from another camera and bodies from another, and kind of Frankenstein them together so that they can, so that they function together. So when we think about a lens, it captures round, but the sensor, the film is a small part of that space. So to build these cameras, it's the opposite. The film has to be larger than the image circle area of the lens. And then like you can see they create basically circles like on the film. You're getting the actual full circle of the film. and so what you notice in the images is that there's, it's round, certainly. Right. But there's also a little bit of a feeling of a curve because I use lenses that are older lenses. So they, they're not perfect. Right. Because you could get really lenses that are almost perfect from the center to the edge, but they fall off. And it's true of eyesight too. It falls off at the edges and these are cleaned up. Of course we come in because if you look at the negative like those circles aren't that tidy. Yeah, they bleed off into the thing, particularly where there's light area. But that circle. Luca: As you're holding up those negative almost looks like. Susan: Eyeballs. Luca: Like eyeballs. But it looks like petri dishes. Susan: Love that. Luca: Yeah, yeah. Susan: Okay. I want the picture. Luca: Your own little ecosystem there. Susan: And that you just. You hit it exactly on. So why, what is circle matter? I think there's when you when I think it, I think about beauty. And this comes from studies of the contemplative. A lot of people don't know that the contemplative writer Thomas Merton was also a photographer. When you look at Thomas's writings, there's a point that photography came in and you can look at his contemplative, and certainly he's saying a lot of the same things, but then he starts photographing. And I swear that I can see in what he wrote later, after being a photographer, it wasn't that big of a portion of his life that he started writing about this thing called a hidden wholeness. And anyone who's photographed knows it, they know that experience you're looking through, and it's not like we get to construct the world. I mean, you can if you're making still lifes or whatever, but, we're, speaking about photography in nature, and even as a documentary photographer photographing people. But let's just take nature. So you're looking and there's this way that you're just moving and you can feel it like you feel it in your body, right? And then all of a sudden there's this, like, what is that? What is that? That knows that. That's right. That's whole. That's beautiful. Right. And it can be so subtle just like tilt and all the sudden. And he calls that a hidden wholeness. There's a kind of resonant, yes, in beauty that, that when we know it, when it hits us. Right. Because you can come off of a day of photographing in that way, and you feel so nourished, so alive in, there's a there's a kind of reciprocal radiance that can kind of come back, like, I'm always at my best, and you feel like why do you. Look like, and I'm like, I’ve been out photographing. When you're when you're in your stride, right? When you're when you're able to really be resonant in that way. And, so that's what started the round work. And then within that, there was something like you said about the petri dish that it became this kind of ecosystem and this, this kind of intricacy of the of what? Of what's in relationship to what else. And I feel like my ability to hold complexity now is considerably more, you know, because before it's kind of like singular. There's a leaf and maybe there's the spider web. Right. But, the awareness that I'm starting to have of profoundly different time scales, which is what attracted me to come here, is there's the more I think about the time scales inherent in our practice. And it started because I was at Rocky Fork State Park and there was a tree over rock, right. Which is pretty common thing. Right? Tree grows around the thing. I was thinking, wow, that's an intimate relationship. Like that tree and the rock and what it's getting. And I was like. Or for the tree, actually, because the tree's time relationship to the rock is so significantly different than the Rock's time relationship to the tree for the rock, the tree is a mosquito landing and taking off, right? Right. Yeah. To the tree. It's all it's ever going to know. And then I got really obsessed with it. So I would create these photographs and I can show you some of them later and, send them out and I'm going to leave some for y'all when I do the workshop. and I would ask people who look at the world very differently, whether you're a botanist or maybe you're a poet, or maybe you're a, geologist, to annotate the photographs, because I was just really interested. What do you what do you notice in these relationships? So one person was like, they tracked weather they were super interested in weather and they could see a drip coming off of the trees. They knew it slightly raining in there like that raindrop has been recycling probably that particular for like a million years. That drop spends maybe can be 20 minutes to like 12 hours before it evaporates, right? Literally. I can probably tell the time scale wrong, but it was more like have 2.5 billion years. I have a tree that's 70 years old. I knew nothing about the lichen. Like, what's the time scale of this lichen? And then there's a fern. Is it perennial? Like, my brain just got really obsessed with the fact that every piece of time that I would understand was always human time. What does it mean in relationship to me? So when this residency became available, I was working with a geologist there, and he's like, you should apply for the Shenandoah National Park. Because you are talking about some time scales. Tom: Billions of years, just bonkers. Luca: Yeah. Susan: Yeah, yeah. So my mind, I've been trying like, it's very slow, to think about deep time in that way and to really wrap my mind around. Tom: Right. And as a photographer, you get an opportunity to kind of freeze time in a way. And then in that infinite time scale, you're just a little blip. And that little spot that you took that photo is even a smaller blip in that blip, and you get to have the experience to show it to people, and they get to interpret it as anyway they want. Susan: It is weird, isn't it? The Greeks have two words for time that I think photography plays with both. Right. So there's Chronos, which is chronological time. It's that thing you just talked about, and it's what we think of with photography, right? This, this like immediate slice of time and then Kairos time is what's considered timeless time, right. So we can see sometimes photographs have that bit of mystery, that bit of magic. Right. Love is kind of timeless, right? It's indelible in a way. so there's I've been I've been just curious about it. And one of two people, Kate Savage and Eric William Carroll, two amazing photographers who are part of our collective. They asked this question of like, if the planet's been keeping chronological time for. Over millennia, and photography photographs in this little like slice of time, are there ways we can use photography to expand our sense of time? Right? Like, is it or are we kind of stuck in our medium with these time slices? And, so I, I've been thinking a lot about time fullness and then timelessness and beauty has that to it, doesn't it? Do you know that thing where you just are like, so struck by something? There's like, not to be morbid, but there's a little almost that feeling like I could die right now. Like feel so whole. Tom: Like my life is complete. Susan: Complete. This is a great way to say it. And I think photography can touch that. I think it can touch that wholeness, and get into that kind of kairos, timeless time and date. Luca: Because in a way, it's like photography. It's such a small fraction of a time. I mean, the longest most cameras can capture is like 30 seconds, which even that, compared to just a day or a year, is such a small fraction of time. But there's something about and this kind of also ties into the kind of the wide vision versus like the narrow vision, you kind of have to have that wide look to see a whole scene, but then maybe narrow down into one particular part of the scene. Yeah. And that one moment of time, somehow just one small fraction of time when you can really sit and focus and enjoy that, that gives you this timeless appreciation for the whole kind of concepts or the whole place that that one small little part of one scene at one point of time represents. So in a way, just a small fraction of time transcends its small fraction and just becomes like what you're saying, the whole fullness of everything. Tom: You talked about gestural, gestural photography. Yeah. How do you show that with, we're talking a lot about time, but how do you show the gestures of objects that don't move? Like we were talking with the subject, you could know your subject and pose them in a different way. And to show emotion or drama. How do you do that with trees or. Yeah, rocks or, waterfalls. Susan: Yeah. You know, and I think what's really fascinating when we, when we work with new students and we work with students all the time, often there is a kind of you'll start to see over time, certain qualities, movement, whatever compositions that resonate for them. So one of the hardest things we have to teach with folks is to get them physically moving again, like your body moves. We think that this thing photography is almost like eye level. I don’t even have feet. Pointing down, pointing up, pointing sideways and then getting people back in to the fact that they're in order to connect to an animate world, you need to be able to be in your body again. And and part of that is, is understanding how you animate your own physical. Right. So when we look at kind of gesture, we could also just call that movement. Or we could call that, and I tend to be really attracted to these very subtle things, you know. So we have this big rock pile and we think, oh, this photograph is about the rock pile, but what it might really be about for somebody is this really tender little way that these twigs are this little bit of life is kind of reaching out from the rock. Once people actually get into that rhythm of just responding to what speaks to their heart, there's the photographs are just in in them. You feel them in them. You know, it's, And I don't like to say that at first in our teaching, because if you say you're in them, then it goes back into this egocentric thing of like, every photograph is a reflection of me. Luca: I think there's something really beautiful about being able to see someone in their photographs, you know, kind of besides the egocentric angle of it. There is that relationship where, you know, especially in this kind of nature context, that tree would be existing in the same way it would be whether or not I was here photographing it or not. But I think it kind of also has this sort of humbling effect to know when you see a photo, you know, someone was there to take it. And part of that is also knowing that it's what they saw as themselves and their perspective on what they wanted to take it at. So, you know, even though as photographers, it's literally the reality that you're capturing and putting onto your film or onto your sensor, but it's that person's specific reality. So it's also kind of this reminder that the photograph is telling their story and not the entire story. Susan: I love what you're saying. I really love that, because I do think one of the practices we do when we think people are too, they're too worried about losing their style. But what I do like to remind people of, as humans, we are we've been very, conditioned. We miss a lot. So when I say be, you, be you at your most expansive self, in addition to what I do, here, I am, I do a lot of curation. I do a lot of exhibition curation of other people's work and particularly love this thing. When you put out a question into a community and then ask everybody to kind of explore that question together, that's what we do at kinship. And when you get in a group of people asking a similar question, it gets in. The question sits in the center right. Then you don't have to do the whole thing. You just need to take your seat. Like, what's your story to tell? What's your unique perspective on this thing? Leave it to the group to weave the whole. And so exhibitions become a way that it becomes almost like a chorus, like you're part of the answer to that question is going to have this amazing relationship to somebody else's part, and, so exhibitions and books and things like that. Luca: Tying that into what we were talking about at the very beginning, talking about ecosystem and the climate crisis and solving that with love. I think a lot of times people feel so overwhelmed by, you know, problems with the environment and they feel so removed. They feel like I'm here and the environment is out there and everything I'm doing is just destroying everything out there. But kind of tying in what you're saying right now, we are part of the ecosystem, you know, in good and in bad ways. Yeah. And it's not up to just Tom or just Luca to, you know, solve everything. And you can just kind of think of the whole world as this big exhibition. And maybe what you do best is you go out there with your crazy Frankenstein cameras, and you capture the gestures of the trees in some way that moves somebody who knows this scientists and this whole chain, just like how the whole ecosystem is connected. And, you know, it's not up to just, you know, the eastern phoebes to keep everything in check. They play their part and they're really good at what they do. And, you know, it's not just up to you to solve all the world's problems. Like, just do. Susan: You feel overwhelmed? Yeah. Luca: Right. And when you feel overwhelmed, you can't put the love in it that it really needs. Tom: We're all one piece of the puzzle. And so we are in the ecosystem in that way. Susan: Exactly. And you know, the thing I like to remember is that overwhelm is a quality of trauma. Right? So we whatever. But one of the outgrowths of that is what we call immobility. You're frozen. And I do think something is happening where people are getting more and more afraid. And we wanted that fear to motivate people. But we forget that fear can also create immobility. So we're using fear to hope we're going to generate agency. And I don't know I don't know that it's having the effect that we want it to. Right. And that when we don't feel a part of that thing of that web of community that y'all are both describing, how is it for you here at the park? Like because you each have your role, do you get to feel the kind of chorus of of like that, the camaraderie, but also like, do you do y'all ever get to really feel the whole picture? Do you do you ever get all in the same room or. Tom: Oh, I don't think we've ever been all in the same room. Yeah, if if so, it's very rare. But we get to meet people individually and we kind of get to tell their small part of the story of the whole picture. Susan: And then you can sort of piece together. Tom: Yeah, not even that. We put them up. or we just show them individually and then other people can make their own interpretation out of it. So we could, tell the story of a botanist or, an ecologist, anybody, the plant crew, the trails crew, the media team, search and rescue, interpretation, education, everybody in the park. I'm sorry if I'm missing anybody but anybody in the park. Everybody comes together to make the whole thing happen here. And I think if we lost one group of people, then the whole ship would go down. Susan: Like we were down at Dickey [Ride Visitor Center]. We were like, calls are coming in like lady broke her ankle you know. Yeah, like, wow. You probably get 20 of those a day you know, like deer in the road. I mean, there's just. Oh, yeah. Tom: Yeah. it's something different every day. And that's kind of the. Susan: I'd love that. Tom: The, the, I don't wanna say beauty because someone breaking their ankles isn’t beautiful, but that kind of the you know what I mean. Yeah. What makes everything ever changing? Kind of. Maybe the whole. That's kind of what makes our job gestural, in a way you know. Susan: Like, what is a gestural I mean I appreciate your question about the gestural. But I do think I use that word more because there is a way that I think we can forget that everything is moving, like all the time. Like we forget that things can feel very calcified right into me. Luca: Gesture like movement versus gesture. Gesture feels a lot more like it has more like personality and more intentionality to it. Like, yeah, the tree moves when it blows in the wind, but the way that the tree gestures, its branch that has been growing for 20 years is like, oh, it's literally reaching up towards the sun so we can get meaning. Yeah. Susan: I've still been looking for a better word because people get very spooked. They either really like the kind of overly spiritualized language about it, right, which misses that light and matter part of it, you know, which is the part that fascinates me the most. It's that there is light in matter that I think, at least right now, I think that response to the quality of how we show up. Luca: And I think photography is very interesting media medium, because it kind of forces you to compromise between the kind of technical aspect of things, the reality that's out there in the world, but then also how you kind of can introduce a little bit of mystery to it and a little bit of, you know, there's a way to shoot a photo of a tree where it's like, okay, this is a really good, simple, scientific good photo of this tree. You can see the structure, and there's another way to do it that shows the gesture, that shows the artfulness. yeah. Of it. And so yeah, I think photography. Yeah, it kind of forces you to do that interesting compromise. And just what you're saying, how do you merge the kind of scientific aspect of, you know, the environment and the spiritual aspect of it, to way and nothing is going to reach all people, but in a way that's compelling to a lot of people. Susan: Yeah. And I think photography is a way of pointing, without naming, like, I do think there's a way that we think we name a thing, we know it. And so then there's just like every oak tree is an oak by every oak tree is so profoundly different. And then I think there's something in science that got to this point to name it, is to know it. And I don't think names can. Right. They can be. But, showing up every day, just that practice of showing up every day to and letting it be fresh. Right. It's a, it's a, it's a hard it's a, it's a beautiful practice, but it's a hard practice. And it's not that hard. It's not as hard in the natural world as it is with people. Like we think we know a person. We have a story about a person, and people tend to not be. I mean, we change and surface change. It's like we're in a good mood today, bad mood tomorrow, whatever. But then when I learned that we're more not us than us, and that, like our microbes, can determine our mood, our cravings, our desires, like that, that starts to really tear at that kind of fundamental fabric of identity. And then we're more like, we're more lichen then we're then, you know, we're more. So I like just I like being disoriented in that a little bit. I think it helps. I think it helps with art to allow some disorientation. Luca: Yeah. I think one of my favorite things about like, especially macro photography is that so much of like just naturally occurring things in the forest look so bizarre and so alien. And how can you capture something and make it appear like it's just so. Yeah, just disorienting. It's not from here. Even though in a way that weird, like fungus growing around is a lot more natural than the way we live our lives with our clothes and with our cars and everything like that. Susan: Right? Yeah, ya know micro world. I mean, that's just like I see pretty wide in my landscapes are pretty. And I brought, I brought actually some cameras this time to do more because I've started noticing that I'll see the big thing. And then within that is 100,000 million. You know, like little. Worlds that you could just be in that one place all day, forever. I just built this camera I'm really interested in. I haven't used it a lot, but I've practiced with a little bit. It was a mistake. Every camera has a focal range like from the lens to the film to the thing where how it can focus. And usually I do the math pretty well, or I have somebody else do the math right. It has to be about this close to something. Wow. So I ended up, I thought I was building like a big wide and I ended up it's like this. But what I found is when I photograph in that close up range, as long as it's not a bug or even a bug, right? It could be sitting in any direction. So I've been practicing doing these photographs that have no horizon. So they. And so if something's dripping down like that's an indicator that it's down. So the photographs don't have any sense of direction. Luca: Yeah. Susan: And the focus can move. And so I print them and they're these little holograms almost because the person can come up and they're round and there's a little thing on there to turn it. And the person can just turn it until it sits in the place that feels good to them. And no matter where they land, they look good. Right? They're very holographic that way. and it's fascinating to me. I did a small exhibition with these rotating images. How how much joy people get in orienting them the way that they feel good looking at it, and they move all the time. You'd think there would be one right way. They would sit and they get rotated. People nervous about touching them because it says, you know, like you can rotate it. Susan: I'm trying to think about a crank right now, because if people could rotate the image without touching it, I think they would play with it more. But museums and galleries right now, you know. So yeah. Yeah, I think for me, the one of the most fascinating and, and disorienting, things has been trying to wrap my mind around the scale of time that you can experience all at once here. Susan: And I just can't quite get a hold of 2.5 million years. Like, I just, the thing that has been the most remarkable. So if any artists are thinking about coming, what has been so incredible is how intimate the Rangers are with these different components of the park. So I keep a journal as I go. The days that I've been here. Susan: And so, for instance, I photograph this deer that was in the meadow but was just obsessed with this very particular root and was digging. And then I could tell the deer was afraid of me. So I was being really respectful and it would kind of back up. But that root was so compelling. So I took the photograph and I was like, okay, let's just look at this one image. How well do you think this deer is like, I go to Big Meadow all the time and the rangers will be like, oh, that's about a 2 to 5 year old. And I'll say, great, what's the life expectancy of this? And then what route do you think it was? And then somebody is over there picking out the plant and said, I must get that. A perennial like how long would that root have been in the ground? And just how tuned in to different kind of specialty areas people are and how much I’ve Like, normally I have to go to a place in this. I would have to be in a place way longer, and I'm done to a ton of research and read a lot of books. And it's like a living library here. Just gotta go out, drive, go to find a ranger, find out something really new and beautiful and exciting about where I've been. And, yeah, it's really it's it's it's it's not as experience I get to have that often. And, so I got to talk to a geologist. I got to talk to a botanist. and then each time I go, there's new marks on the map. Oh, if you want to see more of this kind of plant, go here.That's incredible. It's such an incredible and rich, opportunity. So I'm so grateful. Grateful to get to do this. Tom: We are grateful to have you here Susan. Thank you again so much for joining us and talking to us. I think, I learned a lot. it's definitely a very, very eye opening experience about your, the way you do photography and the story and thought process behind how time works kind of through your photos. So that was very interesting and very, very, this beautiful to talk to you. Susan: So yeah. Thank you. Thank you.

Join Luca and Tom as they talk to Susan Patrice, a documentary and contemplative photographer. Her photography and public installations focus on the Appalachian landscape and its people and feature intimate images that touch deeply into questions of place and belonging. Since 2016, her work has primarily explored the nature of visual perception and its impact on our feelings of kinship with the natural world. She engages in intimate gestural conversations with the land through the use of hand-built cameras

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