Issue 101 | January 28 - February 4, 2022
We’re expecting a big snowstorm in New York City and the surrounding area this weekend - as I write they’re saying 6 inches and maybe more. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone’s snowy city pics, but you won’t find any from me. The hibernating bear is my spirit animal, the cozy dark cave my snowy winter retreat.
I just googled, “Why do bears hibernate?” and of course what I’ve known with 100 percent certainty since age 4 is not true. It turns out bears don’t hibernate. They go into a lighter sleep state called ‘torpor’. Torpor has a variety of definitions - sluggish inactivity; lethargic indifference, apathy. I think these negative connotations are anti-bear, and likely don’t appreciate what’s going on behind the scenes in the bear’s body and mind. Perhaps bears in torpor are thinking back to the past summer’s hunt and replaying every moment, every fish caught, every berry eaten, every feral beehive honey hive raid. Perhaps bears in torpor are dreaming up new hunting or foraging strategies; remembering and annotating the subtle signs and clues that led them to more bountiful feeding grounds in the past with plans to find even more when Spring returns.
In my winter photography torpor, I don’t make many pictures, but I do devote significant attention to photography. Most importantly, I take the time to look back. I look at the pictures I edited and posted over the course of the year; the images that struck me at the moment as the immediate winners. I look back for pictures that I may have overlooked in those quick daily edits. While I’m pretty good at picking the very best one or two photographs immediately after a photo session, I’m less skilled at recognizing photos that don’t grab you viscerally in an instant but may work well in a project or sequence. Finding those often quieter photos takes a little time away from the emotions of the moment when the photo was made.
I think about the mix of luck and intention that led to some of my best photographs of the year and I look to see if there are any threads that might be worth tugging on in the coming year - maybe a photo ‘accident’ that looks kind of cool and worth exploring further or a subject matter or theme that may have greater promise than I first thought. I look at photos of places I returned to again and again over the last year, and interrogate that impulse - what, really, was it about certain places that had such a hold on me? What was I looking for that I never found, that kept me returning? Or what was it that I found in these places that meant so much to me, and why? I’ve found this circling back time has been crucial to my growth.
One of my big projects this winter was going back and re-editing a project that I’ve been making pictures for on and off for more than ten years. I’ve learned a lot about photo editing in the past 3-4 years, and I want the whole project to be more consistent and reflect the current way I edit images. This has been a big pain in the ass, but it’s worth it to me because the pictures and story are important to me, and I want it to look the way I want it to look.
I’ve also entered a few calls for entry and applied for a photography grant. All these efforts require looking back at my strongest bodies of work, making sure that I am submitting the best images from these projects, and really doing my best to hone and shape the sequences I submit. While most of my projects have at least 30 photos and sometimes far more, usually you can only submit 10 or 20 photos at most. Figuring out a really tight sequence that makes sense can be as challenging as making a large edit where you have more time to tell your story. These kinds of submittals also require written statements, and devoting some time to making a concise statement of 100 words or so is such an important task that I never want to do in the summer when I’m out making pictures, but don’t mind as much in the winter.
I’m looking at my photobooks, some of which don’t get the love they deserve in warmer and sunnier seasons, reading books, and seeing movies. Recently I watched two classic Jaques Demy films that were on the Criterion Channel, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg and The Young Girls of Rochefort. These films were an absolutely delightful celebration of love and color and music and movement. I was completely charmed and I hope some of their sweet spirit and visual sumptuousness rub off on me when I pick up my camera again.
Maybe some of you are like me during the winter, quiet on the outside and busy on the inside. Or maybe some of you go into full winter hibernation. That’s good too. Whatever you have to do to make sure the energy and enthusiasm are there when you really need it. That’s all that counts. Enjoy the snow, I’ll see you next week.
❤️James Prochnik The NYC Photo Community | Issue 101 | January 28 - February 4