A mother and small child in Myanmar, a beautiful Arab girl in Kurdistan, a row of schoolgirls in Haiti, and a line of boys jumping off a raft in Harvard, Massachusetts—these and many other photographs cover the walls of the large gallery at Fivesparks.
Each is done by one of the four women in the Still River Photo Collaborative, who meet regularly to discuss and support one another in their personal and professional work. While very different, each photographer meets the group’s written mission: “In this increasingly fragmented world, we offer narratives from the heart that capture the human condition and bring us together.”
Lisa Aciukewicz, Kathryn Costello, and Ellen Harasimowicz from Harvard and Anne Jones from Acton have gathered their work into the exhibit “Through Her Lens: Home and Away.” It will run through April 8, with an opening reception at Fivesparks Sunday, March 13, from 3 to 5 p.m. Last Sunday I had the opportunity to talk with each of the women and to read their artist’s statements as they were hanging their show.
Stories through portraits
Portrait photographer Kathryn Costello writes of herself, “I am an explorer who sees the world through the people I meet.” For the “home” part of her display, Costello chose a black and white studio portrait of “Jessica,” a carryover from her recent Fivesparks exhibit of headshots celebrating the beauty of women over 40. In contrast is a photo taken in Costello’s driveway in natural light—a beautiful dancer, head tilted down, arms crossed over her chest, hair held back with a wide band. She is statue-like, and the patches of drying clay covering her exposed skin help create this look. A headshot of retired champion figure skater Scott Hamilton shows him with a wide smile. “I try to get people to laugh,” said Costello, and in that next second when they relax is the “gold moment” to capture them.
“Clay Statue.” (Photo by Kathryn Costello)
An action shot shows Hamilton lying down on the ice, a skater to his left and one in the air, poised to jump over him. Costello explained that this is from an annual “Scott Hamilton and Friends” show held in Nashville to benefit cancer research. The boards around the rink are removed, giving the audience a closer connection, and in this case an unencumbered backdrop to the shot.
Costello’s “away” photos include two she took on a 2019 trip to Kurdistan. The one of the Arab shepherd girl was captured in the last perfect moments of a fading light. One could say that this girl and the dancer in the driveway share a simple serenity, despite their very different circumstances.
Costello’s new personal work is very different from her portraits. She is experimenting with digital night photographs of the stars, taken on Prince Edward Island, in New Hampshire, and in Acadia National Park and printed on metal. In them, she plays with elements of time, such as double exposure, to capture the motion of stars. After some reflection, she remarked that so much of photography is about time—time to take a photo and the split second in which you have to capture someone or something in motion, like the skater suspended in the air.
Creating visual stories
Ellen Harasimowicz writes that she creates “visual stories that document the universality of human experiences.” Many of these stories come from her 10 years of travel, including to Myanmar and India. She spoke of Myanmar as a magical place but one that breaks her heart because the kind, gentle, and artistic people have been almost continuously caught in war.
A photo of a woman sitting on a rock holding a small child was taken on the border of Myanmar and Thailand. Beside her are several empty canoes in a body of water. These are nomadic people, said Harasimowicz, and one can see a look of uncertainty and longing on the mother’s face. This sense of waiting and longing is captured in many of Harasimowicz’s photos, and each has a story behind it.
In the fireplace room are more photos from Myanmar. One is a shot of two men in a boat, one launching a spear to catch a fish. It, like Costello’s skater, captures the exact second of suspended action. Near it is the face of a young girl, her hair covered in heavy cloth, her skin pocked with dark scabs. And yet, like Costello’s shepherd girl, there is about her a sense of strength and resilience.
“Moken Mother and Child.”(Photo by Ellen Harasimowicz)
Currently, Harasimowicz is pursuing an Master of Fine Arts degree in photography and plans to publish a book. She said she “wants to go to the heart” with her work and to make it more evocative and tactile. She is working on a long-term project with Willard Farm in Still River as its subject, and these photos are in color, in contrast to earlier ones, which are not black and white but duotone (a halftone reproduction of an image). The one of Paul Willard at night in his field, with the corn stalks as high as he is, seems to perfectly meet the three goals she articulated.
A new aspect of Harasimowicz’s work has to do with global climate change, about which she is deeply concerned. The color images in these photos are beautiful, and the subtle suggestion of the threat to their subjects instills in the viewer a fear for their absence. For example, the striking photo of a white tree against an orange background is an inverted image, where the tree is devoid of life and surrounded by the glow of fire. A scene of Venice is soft and misty but clearly conveys the truth that the city is sinking, and a colorful butterfly trapped in a corner of the Willard greenhouse suggests levels of interpretation beyond the literal.
The meaning of home
Readers of the Harvard Press are used to seeing Lisa Aciukewicz’s photographs relatively small and in black and white. They will be delighted to see that the far wall of the gallery features her photos in brilliant color. They will also be comforted to see that their subjects are the same familiar people, places, and events of Harvard. The selections are some of Aciukewicz’s favorites from the past 16 years and, she wrote, “are a living meditation on what home means to me.” At the same time, there is a universality about them—these faces and events can be found in small towns across America.
At the far left are the eager faces of young children in the front seat of the bus on their way to the first day of school. Toward the other end is a line of boys jumping off the raft at Bare Hill Pond, a rite of passage for fifth-graders. In between is a picture of Bromfield graduation from several years ago. Aciukewicz points to Principal Scott Hoffman, walking off on the far right of the photo, prompting thoughts of his upcoming retirement, a final exit from Bromfield. She points out a balloon in the sky with the clear words, “Bye Felicia,” which she explains was an “in” saying of the time. (“Google it,” she said.) Further on is a photo of Jessie Miller, a Bromfield alum being lifted up from the dance floor by her beaming groom.
““Last Day of School.”(Photo by Lisa Aciukewicz)
One of Aciukewicz’s favorites is four generations of Harvard veterans, from four wars, all in profile, saluting the flag. Other classic Harvard scenes are attendees at Town Meeting; Kathy Hewett giving out vegetables from the raised beds at Hildreth House that she created; a Jamaican man picking apples from a ladder; a line of antique cars coming down Ayer Road on the Fourth of July; and a tree across the road, downed by the 2008 ice storm.
Joining her colleagues in capturing the action of a moment, Aciukewicz has caught a boys soccer team victorious after playing in 3 inches of rain and now sliding and splashing on the field, water drops suspended above them.
Resilience amid poverty
Anne Jones had an opportunity to go to Haiti in 2014 to document the work of Partners in Agriculture. These “Glimpses of Haiti” would be used in a fundraiser supporting the nonprofit organization. Jones said this was her first look at intractable poverty and that she often felt guilty riding around in a safe, air-conditioned vehicle, separated by glass from the Haitian people and the chaos in the streets. She had to keep reminding herself she was documenting these scenes for a good cause, hoping to evoke compassion for those forced to bathe in rivers infested with cholera and to live in houses next to highway guardrails.
Some of the colorful photos directly show the poverty that she saw: the family laundry drying on the roof of a hut; a family outdoors making breakfast and doing chores—all against a background denuded of vegetation.
“Orphan Girl.”(Photo by Anne Jones)
Jones said her most enduring impressions are of the “dignity, warmth, and resilience” of the Haitians she met amid this abject poverty. An older man has put on a hat and buttoned his shirt to the top for his photo. The subject of “Orphan Girl” has a hint of defiance in her eyes, perhaps to convey that she is self-sufficient. A group of schoolgirls, all beautiful, seem self-assured, and Jones called attention to one girl, whose fingers are pressed and turned on a surface, in such a way as to say, “Bring it on.” In a group of boys, on the other hand, all frown a bit, and their eyes seem somewhat accusatory. Jones said she felt as though they might wonder what she was doing there. She said she was constantly balancing her desire to capture authentic moments with her need to be respectful and unobtrusive.
As if to get away from the intensity of these photos, Jones showed some she may hang in a different room. One is a group of sheep on a farm in Littleton; another a hazy morning and a weathered building in Penobscot, Maine; and one an old farm building from a series called “On the Road to Colorado.”
All the photographs in the show are about the same size and framed with poster hangers to give some continuity to the exhibit, but while the frames have a sameness, the works of the four photographers are unique. I was astounded to remember that while these artists are capturing the human condition, they are also having to pay attention to light, color, and composition.
Most of the photos in the exhibit are for sale and can also be ordered in different sizes. The hanger can be included for $25; the hangers can also be purchased at posterhanger.com.
