a video exhibition curated by John Mannion

November 3 – December 16, 2001

This video exhibition, on continuos play, is featured in conjunction with We Are Named, a visual arts exhibition curated by Susan Evans and is accompanied by a special issue of the Canter’s magazine, PHOTOGRAPHY Quarterly, with articles by Evans, Mannion, and Gary Hesse (Jamesville, NY).

The videos in PASSENGER look to the identification of family and gender as markers of who we are and how we view our own personal identity. The inner perception of self is a result of our personal states and thoughts during our lifetime, Plainly said, when we define ourselves we must decide who we are and where we belong. In many ways, we are defined by our histories; the content of our past haunts the decisions we make now.

The ghosts of ourselves make us wonder what might have occurred had history taken a different course. What if the answers weren’t the same? The understanding of who we are forces us to define the relationships we have made to our immediate environment. What’s more is that we are carried along by our own inertia; how the self has already been defined. We are who we say we are. This sets up an interesting binary, we are defining our  self while our self is defined by where we are and have been. We become passengers of our own self-identification.

The first tape in the series is Los Animales made by Argentinean artist Ivan Marino and Arturo Marinho. The tape looks at a place called Chino, located in Buenos Aires. It is an area famous for tango and nightlife. My interest in the piece is the way that the main characters, two men sitting in the street, are partially defining this part of town as it defines them. These men are who they are by choice and tell us of their life through the drinks they have on the street.

They speak of women that both define them and drive them to live. “I was born from a woman, I live for a woman, and I will die for a woman.” An inevitable tragedy it seems. A man who appears to run a local establishment sings about a woman who loves him but whom he does not love himself. “I am sorry that I do not love you anymore.” This prophecy of endless conflict between man and woman is a large part of their dialogue. It is part of the sexual tension that is so much a part of the tango, so much a part of this space.

The next tape in the series is entitled Le Memoria de los Caracoles (The Memory of the Snails) made by Chilean artist Edgar Endress. This autobiographical video diptych looks at two seemingly innocent events that come to have a larger distinction upon the narrator in the tape. The work remarks on the subtle and sometimes unnoticed way that an oppressive government, in this case that of General Pinnochet, can touch your life without you even knowing.

In both of these stories Endress is unintentionally participating in the wrong doings of this totalitarian dictator. In the first tape Endress gives us a simple story, essentially that he participated in waving to and venerating Pinnochet’s motorcade traveling with full military parade. While his father was the only one present to protest. In the second tape another simple text places Edgar on the wrong side of good unwittingly. He gives guards the oranges that will be used to beat and torture people who are wrongfully imprisoned. Even though he did not have an idea of what the symbolism of his acts where at the time, there is regret found within the tone of the tape.

The ghost of these events charges the tape with frenetic energy. Le Memoria de los Caracoles points us back to the circumstance, but the mood that Endress relays tells us of his opinion. Even though these were out of Endress’ control they turn into ghosts. They seem to motivate the tape. In both of these tapes the father is present and is, to some extent, a hero. In this tape the father figure is indeed choosing the right decision and makes an ideal self that the child in the tape, a young Edgar can look to. This makes the absence of father seem so much more important in the next two tapes.

John Orenticher’s tape 3 X Named evolves out of a personal investigation of Orentlicher’s biological parents. The tape is quite amazing to me in that I clearly see how as a viewer I am implicitly participating in who this person is. The test in this piece begins to define his parents. As it happens i see and feel my understanding of John’s identity though his own investigation, one that builds for me nearly as it must of for himself, or as I imagine it would. A pair of images appear in the piece together. In one, there is a figure that is cut out, maybe his father. This heightens the awareness of his absence. Little is mentioned of Orentlicher’s father only that he was a Jewish intelligent from a large family. John’s investigation of himself seems to assign his identity as outsider even though he does not intend this from the  investigation. He asks simply who his parents are. But all it really creates are more questions.

This last tape is by Margaret Stratton entitled Kiss the Boys. This tape takes a normative view of homosexuality and entwines it with the memory of her lost parent. Her father becomes a ghost of herself – someone who judged and watched Margaret. As in Endress’ and Orentlicher’s tape the acts of the parents significantly affect their children. THe absence certainly becomes part of her self-identity. She, even when recognizing her own desires, must appease the structure that her father exists in, haunted by that which defines herself.

As with life and our definition of anything we define ourselves by what we know. Where have we been? What are we told? Wondering what might have been raises most of the content in these works. These are questions that we ask ourselves all the time.

The way that society dictates, or parents dictate, is our first lesson in defining who we are. These tapes, when brought together, begin to show the way we can be affected by larger forces, be they social, political, or something other.

– John W. Mannion, 2001

John W. Mannion is an artist and educator who currently teaches at Light Work in Syracuse, NY. He has taught photography, digital imaging, art history, and media studies at Syracuse University and served as co-director of Sparks Gallery, also in Syracuse.




curated by Susan Evans

November 3 – December 16, 2001

While some look upon the current wave of multi-culturalism and globalization as empowering, others see it as a perpetuation of a long-standing tradition of objectifying cultural differences for the sole purpose of entertaining the dominant white culture.

The ramifications of such generalizations affect our sense of truth and reality even though this “knowledge” is not gained through direct experience. The idea of culture (signifier) becomes more than the sum of any one culture (signified). Perceived cultural differences are extracted and re-contextualized through the eyes of the prevailing white culture. In this way individuals from other cultures, their media representations, and consumer products perpetually disrupt the hegemony of a singular cultural identity.

The topic of cultural identity has always been a politically charged issue. Emigrating from a country that seemed to no longer want them, European settlers arrived on American soil determined to propagate their own culture – though displacing the peoples indigenous to this “new world”. This paradigm repeats itself throughout world history, reinforcing a standard of one specific race dominant over another. Ironically, marginalized cultures become invisible to us as a result of the historical castration and homogenization process of multi-cultural assimilation. Physical and cultural displacement or dislocation characterizes the daily lives of many peoples of the world.  Ideological clichés and stereotypes surrounding one’s sense of self or concept of culture resulting from this process create our understanding of others and both enter into and inform our actions.

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We Are Named started out as a dialogue and evolved into individual explorations into the political pressures of conformity, the social debasement society has taught non-white people to accept as a condition of their visual “otherness” as well as the hyper real experience of self and culture. Each artist – Janet Olivia Henry, Dinh Q. Lê, Saiman Li, Tomoko Negishi, and Michael Rauner – were selected because they create images that challenge viewers and foster critical thinking about both the spiritual and ideological problems of identity and culture in contemporary society.

Inspired by the storytelling traditions of the Caribbean island of Antigua where she grew up, and by the power and social control engendered to women of many societies through gossip (like the Masai), Janet Olivia Henry fuses imagery and narrative into an ironic social commentary. Starting with an aggregation of photographs, enlarged color copies, toys, dolls, tchotchkes, stories, and everyday things, Henry sews them into clear vinyl juju bags. These bags are then woven, braided, and bonded together into what Henry calls a lariat to create a composite of subjectivity and personal truth – casting a spell, critiquing a culture. With these archetypal characters created through an assemblage of their possessions, Henry reminds us of the intricacies of content beyond the face value of language and categorization. “Black Goddesses are rarely black, they are mocha, caramel, bronze, café au lait, beige or just plain yella.”  With sharp wit and flair for telling visual detail in a rich narrative, Henry’s lariats tell an American story that is not being told anywhere else.

While the images in Dinh Q. Lê’s intricately woven photographic panels summon normal themes of family, culture, religion, and prejudice, they do so in a dialogical fashion. Lê’s images are successful because they engage the viewer in a process of critical thinking setting in motion a dialogue around the problems of intolerance, fear of otherness, institutionalized stereotypes, and the anxieties surrounding individuality. Each woven piece alludes to a collective ancestry and the memorialization of those passed away. We sense the physical affinities of these spiritual forbearers but their particular fate and the mysteries that brought them post-humanly together foster anxiety. The portraits are not simply ancestors; collectively they embody a community that has already been forgotten. For Lê, transforming the past is a communal act in which revered symbols and their mystical and spiritual qualities are reborn into photographic representation. The image making becomes the recovery and reclamation of Vietnamese culture and icons, which elucidate the dense history of the Angkor Wat temple and the victims of the Khmer Rouge. In the same way that the original portraits were untitled and only identified by the numbers pinned to the victims, these works remain untitled and bespeak their suffering by using beauty as a communicative tool.

Born in China, Saiman Li moved to America and became a US citizen. Though now in a society touting globalization as a legal citizen, Saiman is judged and challenged daily by the long reach of racism and uneducated fear. Saiman, culturally displaced since his teens and socially vulnerable to the predominant white culture, finds that “home” is neither here nor is it there. In My Different Color Days, Saiman camouflages his physical appearance by adopting a post-human identity in an effort to achieve harmony within a society preoccupied with racial categorizations and class structure. Saiman covers his skin in monochromatic colors: red, blue, yellow, or green pigment and clothes himself in matching garments. This new identity is unencumbered by pre-existing cultural stereotypes, prejudices, or boundaries and has yet to be socially categorized. In this new character, Saiman is free to move freely between social groups and classes, often sparking interest and support from those he comes into contact with. The work is part performance, part photography as ethnographic document, and part installation. Saiman’s work examines questions of cultural identity. Is it a costume? What does it mean to be an American citizen – just what does one look like? Within a culture where there is an ongoing critique of physical appearances and cultural differences, Li explores his own feelings of displacement, loss, and longing while examining the essence of the cultural self and the need for a societal “home”.

As a little girl growing up in a suburb of Tokyo, Japan, Tomoko Negishi felt powerless against the influence and pressure of Western culture and language. As with much of her other work, Reminder, a photography based installation, revolves around communities of individuals and the resulting tension between an encroaching western attitude and the eastern fascination leading to a desperate cultural abandonment and “other” idolization. Static images of legs wearing different shoes are suspended; they hover above constructed pavement tiles and pebbles. Implying the loss of cultural individuality and spirit these crime scene-like images punctuate a desire of acceptance and assimilation, to move away from assigned Asian stereotypes – from being “yellow”. Despite the camouflage of sneakers, thongs, or Mary Janes, Negishi’s Japanese shadow follows her. Yet in Reminder her images hover above ground – like ghosts; they are dreams, wishes, fantasies – suspended moments – she does not cast a shadow-she is not invisible and looks like every one else.  “I forget where I am coming from. Sometimes a lightning bolt hits me and it wakes me up. Then I remember I am from Japan.” Negishi cannot be anything else, she is an eastern person, she is Japanese.

Michael Rauner is not only examining the scientific method and the ethics of the newly discovered cloning process, he is also exploring individual/community memory and the rituals involved in the memorialization of personal relics. Human life, memory, the votive candle used in religious ceremonies, as well as the D cell batteries that Michael Rauner uses in his installation, all have limited life spans due to the constraints of their components; flesh, cognitive functioning, wax. Rauner distinguishes between two types of the Reliquary DNA images, the “mortals” which exist with the terminal D cell energy source and the “immortals” which are refreshed each day due to the indefinite re-chargability of their solar cells. The DNA samples used in the installation are identified by the Social Security number of the person it represents. They are not ancestors nor do they necessarily contain saintly qualities, as was the Roman Catholic tradition to collect such fragments during the Crusades.  By mere selection, association, and installation, the samples have become a community of non-present individuals. The artist has created a scientific testament to the existence of these individuals, and in doing so has created a humble yet glorious illuminated vigil in celebration/in honor of each miraculous life force.

Modern physics and post-modern theory suggest that perceptions of reality are in a constant state of flux and therefore so are principles of truth, culture, and self.  We are, however, in a world intolerant of ambiguousness and uncertainty; we want to know, to be able to categorize or label an absolute. From the perspective of those marginalized in or by the dominant culture, current stereotypes serve to control those cultures by exaggerating cultural differences. Progressive meanings can only come out of a society with progressive values – until we reach that time we will continue to look without really seeing or fully understanding.

– Susan Evans, 2001

About the Curator
Susan Evans, born in 1966, did her undergraduate work at Goddard College in Vermont and received her MFA in Photography from Cornell University in Ithaca, NY. Evans is currently a photography professor at Daytona Beach Community College. Prior to her current appointment, Evans taught and lectured at Cornell University in Ithaca, NY; Front Range Community College in Fort Collins, CO, and Syracuse University, NY. Evans has worked at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Denver, CO and served as the gallery director/exhibition coordinator at the Visual Studies Workshop in Rochester, NY. In addition to teaching and museum work, Evans is an artist, whose work is represented by Ricco/Maresca Gallery in NYC and Rule Modern & Contemporary Gallery in Denver. She has exhibited in Fresh Work II at the Southeast Museum of Photography, Seven Point Perspective at The Denver Art Museum, and was one of the 10 Discoveries of FotoFest in 2000. Susan was an artist-in-residence at the Center for Photography at Woodstock in September 1999 and showed her images in the 2001 CPW exhibition, Made In Woodstock.


[one_half first]Janet Olivia Henry[/one_half] [one_half]Dinh Q. Lê[/one_half] [one_half first]Saiman Li[/one_half] [one_half]Tomoko Negishi[/one_half] [one_half first]Michael Rauner[/one_half]



John Kleinhans


November 3 – December 16, 2001

The photographs in this exhibition are drawn from recent work around my home in Woodstock, New York; as well as Monhegan Island, Maine, and Cape Cod, Massachusetts.

I have been privileged to have traveled to far places and have photographed in Europe, Asia, Africa, and the American West. I’ve seen some of the highest mountains and deepest canyons, but it is the landscape where I have spent my life in the northeastern US that moves me most deeply. The Hudson Valley region, with its wooded hills (Westerners are amused to find the word “mountains” applied to the Catskills), fields, farms, and small towns everywhere shows its long habitation and cultivation. Likewise the coast of New England although very rugged, is on a human scale. The little rock of Monhegan reveals the same sort of remnants of many lives lived that we find on our hikes around Woodstock. The overgrown paths, bits of stonewall, and long abandoned orchards are like flickers of memory.

Technical / This show is my first extended effort in digital printmaking. Working with my computer, scanner, and printer has been challenging, occasionally frustrating, and always exciting. The magic I experienced when my first black-and-white prints emerged in the tray of developer 36 years ago, I am experiencing once again. I watch the print head go back and forth, faithfully obeying my most minute commands and feel I’m watching a miracle.

There are pitfalls in working digitally. Whereas in the darkroom one may always be trying to increase one’s control of variables like lightness, contrast, and color, with the computer one must, on the contrary, learn restraint, since the control available goes so far beyond one’s needs. At first there is the temptation to play with every trick in the Photoshop toolbox and risk producing garish monstrosities. The thing I value most about photography is its faithfulness to the visual reality I saw when I first exposed the film in camera. Retaining this fidelity is the greatest challenge in the digital realm. But once this self control is mastered it is such a joy to be able to make that highlight just as white as it should be, to get the black really black, to get that magenta cast out of the sky, to handle that scratch on the negative perfectly. Finally, when you work with your image on the screen you can get to know it better than you ever had before – you can explore every detail. Since my images are made first of all to please myself, this leisurely exploration of the picture provides new enjoyment. The photographs begin as 4×5” color negatives, which I shoot in camera and then develop. They are scanned on an Epson 1680, cleaned, and fine tuned in Photoshop 6, and printed with an Epson 1270 on Lumijet Classic Velour paper (watercolor).


John Kleinhans was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 1942. In college he began as a music major but turned his attention to psychology and was particularly interested in the psychology of visual perception. He spent twelve years as a psychology professor at Rutgers, Manhattanville College, and the University of Connecticut. During his years in academia he became more and more involved in photography, and ultimately devoted himself to it after his show of French Landscapes at the Alliance Francaise in New York City and his move to Woodstock, NY. In Woodstock John has been closely involved with the Woodstock School of Art where he has been a vice president since the early 1980s. He has also served as a chairman and trustee of the Woodstock Artists Association and an instructor at the Center for Photography at Woodstock. Additionally he works as a designer at Woodstock Percussion Inc.  Kleinhans set up his first darkroom in 1965, began making color prints in the 1970s, platinum prints in the 1990s and is now busy exploring digital photography. He has worked in portrait, architectural, art, aerial, and news photography but always returns to landscape. He has published two books of his landscape photographs – An Image of Monhegan (Precipice Publications, 1997, 2nd edition 2000) and Woodstock Landscapes (Precipice Publications with Golden Notebook Press, 2000).


Juri Kim


August 18 – October 21, 2001

My recent work represents the complexity of communication.

These images reveal how different cultural and ethnic methods of communication intersect with my own daily life. I search for a relationship between the single hand alphabet of the deaf and the visual language of myself and other artists. I have created my own system of hand gestures as a type of language, which I use to communicate with others.

In the process of this investigation, I have discovered new facets of my own identity. I have opened myself not only to deaf people but also to the people with whom I interact on a daily basis. My work functions as an avenue towards my better understanding of all people.

I project my own hand gestures onto light sensitized canvases. Using various materials and processes I play with contrast, layers, and manipulate the image surface. The images emerge in varying degrees of clarity, from blurred to distinct. In the final piece the photographic image is sealed between layers of varnish.

Juri Kim was born in 1964 in Seoul, Korea and currently resides in New York City. She obtained both her Bachelor of Fine Arts (1988) and Masters of Fine Arts (1990) at the Ewha Women’s University in Seoul, Korea and an additional Masters of Art (1993) at New York University. She took part in the Artist in the Marketplace Program at the Bronx Museum of the Arts in Bronx, NY (1996). Kim has been in numerous exhibitions, including a recent solo show at the A.I.R. Gallery in NYC, Unknown Generation X:? Who Are We? a group show at the Maine Artists Space, and Hands and Waves, Waves and Hands at John Jay Gallery in NYC. Juri has been awarded a PS 122 Project Studio Program grant and the Beatrice Jackson Memorial Award. Kim was a resident in the Center for Photography’s residency program, WOODSTOCK A-I-R in 2000; additionally she has been a resident at the Millay Colony for the Arts, Henry Street Settlement, and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts.

Made in Woodstock


curated by Ariel Shanberg

August 18 – October 21, 2001

Art can be made with and without anything. Artists continuously remind us that the notion of what is art is an open playing field and not necessarily needing of a definition. Yet what art of all kinds and all artists need is time – to focus, to develop, to create. Woodstock and its community has long been a source of that precious commodity. It has been used as a point of inspiration and a place where one could focus on expressing that which is internal by distancing them from the distracting hustle of their daily lives.

Recognizing the special quality of our region, the Center for Photography at Woodstock, with support from the National Endowment of the Arts and the New York State Council on the Arts, began WOODSTOCK A-I-R, a residency program for photo-based artists of color in 1999. After 22 years of supporting artists using photography through exhibition, publication, fellowships, workshops, and educational programming, we recognized the need to bring artists here and share Woodstock’s gifts with them and give them the ability to produce new art work, complete previous projects, and contemplate their next step by providing housing in the historic Byrdcliffe Artist Colony, stipends for food and travel, honoraria, work space and facilities, support, and most especially, time.

With that gift, they have gone on and given us a gift of their own. Often inspired by our everyday surroundings, they have interwoven their ideas with Woodstock, the Catskills, and the Hudson Valley and allowed us to see our everyday world through their eyes. In doing so they have honored and continued the tradition of art made in Woodstock.

– Ariel Shanberg, 2001

[one_half first]"Made in Woodstock", curated by Ariel Shanberg, August 18 - October 21, 2001Susan Evans[/one_half] [one_half]"Made in Woodstock", curated by Ariel Shanberg, August 18 - October 21, 2001Nina Kuo[/one_half] [one_half first]Charles Martin[/one_half] [one_half]"Made in Woodstock", curated by Ariel Shanberg, August 18 - October 21, 2001Karina Skvirsky[/one_half] [one_half first]"Made in Woodstock", curated by Ariel Shanberg, August 18 - October 21, 2001Yoshi Sugitatsu[/one_half] [one_half]"Made in Woodstock", curated by Ariel Shanberg, August 18 - October 21, 2001Kunié Sugiura[/one_half] [one_half first]"Made in Woodstock", curated by Ariel Shanberg, August 18 - October 21, 2001Danny Tisdale[/one_half] [hr]


Vicki Ragan


June 9 – August 5, 2001

My photographs often reflect the tension between the undeniable –  history, autobiography, commerce, facts, things –  and the mysterious or improbable –  myths, make-believe, intuition, dreams, poetry. I have been collecting and making things to assemble into dioramas – scenes of make-believe –  for the last twenty years: sometimes for the camera, sometimes for instillation.

This body of work began as an exercise in constructing environments out of maps and charts. It evolved into a more metaphorical exploration of the human need to make sense of life and confront morality though ritual and myth.

The images piece together shards of information that are embedded in our collective subconscious from legends and art. They suggest the ambiguity of history and the differing interpretations of classical symbols.

The C-prints I create, initially shot with outdated Polaroid positive-negative film, seek to go beyond the mere ordering of facts by using an unpredictable medium to pull them into the inexplicable world of faith, instinct, and emotion.

Vicki Ragan was born in 1951 in Colorado and currently resides in Atlanta, Georgia. She took her first course in photography at the Kansas City Art Institute in 1970 and went on to obtain her Bachelor of Fine Arts at the Chicago Art Institute and a Master of Fine Arts from the University of Arizona at Tucson. After graduate school she worked as a scientific photographer in a structural biology lab at Brandeis University. A recipient of two Polaroid grants, Ragan’s work resides in the collections of the Brooklyn Museum of Fine Art, Helmut Gernsheim Collection at the University of Texas at Austin, and the Huston Museum of Fine Art. Exhibition venues include the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography, the Houston Center for Photography, the Print Center in Philadelphia, the Southeast Museum of Photography, and the Art Institute of Boston, among many. Her work is published in books including Oaxacan Ceramics, and The Edible Alphabet Book, magazine covers on the Smithsonian Magazine and the British Journal of Photography, and articles in the New York Times, Atlanta Journal Constitution, American Photographer, and Popular Photography.



curated by Kathleen Kenyon and Kate Menconeri

June 9 – August 5, 2001

fact or fiction,
the truth be told –
four photographers focus a sharp lens on who “we” are.

Telling tales with a visual alphabet
subjective eyes
private lives, home movies,
domestic landscapes, and suburban dreams.

family, memory, and role play …
how do you picture the intimacy of relationships (identity and self)
through a key hole or from the bedroom?

As insiders/outsiders these image-makers
send messages –
a dialogue of people and place, sign and symbol –
revealing secrets, desires, hopes, fears, memories, and pace.

How do you make visible your home/heart interior?
See scenarios, narratives, and tales mirrored by a generation
looking both back and forth at their surroundings.

[one_half first]"True Story", curated by Kathleen Kenyon and Kate Menconeri, June 9 - August 5, 2001Elinor Carucci[/one_half] [one_half]"True Story", curated by Kathleen Kenyon and Kate Menconeri, June 9 - August 5, 2001Beth Yarnelle Edwards[/one_half] [one_half first]"True Story", curated by Kathleen Kenyon and Kate Menconeri, June 9 - August 5, 2001Gillian Laub[/one_half] [one_half]"True Story", curated by Kathleen Kenyon and Kate Menconeri, June 9 - August 5, 2001Bert Teunissen[/one_half]



Aileen Cramer


March 24 – May 13, 2001

In March 1955, at the age of thirty-eight, I embarked on my first trip to Europe. I had inherited $1200 and I had a “calling card” with an international organization for which I had been working in New York City, Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom, which had branches around the globe.

Shortly before I left the country my father, the artist/photographer, Konrad Cramer, suggested I take a camera along to document my travels. I had never been much of a picture-taker; in fact I did not own a camera. Somehow I ended up with an Arqus-35mm and about ten rolls of film, which I stuffed in the empty spaces of my luggage.

I was traveling on a very limited budget-averaging three dollars a day for room and meals – yes, in 1955 you could do that in Europe quite comfortably in most places. My father said I should send my exposed rolls of film home and he would develop them. I think he and my mother looked forward to following my adventures in Europe this way.

My documented itinerary starts with shots on the Holland/America Line on which I sailed. After a brief visit in Holland with friends I traveled on to Paris.  By then I decided the best way to get the feel of place and people was to spend at least a month in each city. I seldom ventured out of the cities until Austria where short trips on trains were very cheap and frequent. I worked organizing international conferences and attending schools throughout France, Germany, Sweden, Denmark, England, Austria, Italy, and Spain.

So it was when I returned a year and a half later Konrad presented me with three albums of photographs-obviously he chose the best of the lot.

Aileen Cramer, born in 1917 in NYC, spent her summers in Woodstock, NY from 1918 to 1922. She went to the Montessori School in Woodstock, where Konrad Cramer and other local artists taught her. In 1923 her father bought a large farmhouse, which became her winter and summer home. She graduated from the one room schoolhouse in Bearsville. Then wanderlust ruled her life and education, she became a “juvenile delinquent” in Washington DC and continued to spend her summers studying art in Woodstock with Henry McFee, Yasou Kuniyoshi, and Arnold Blanch.  At the same time she acted in theatre productions at the Maverick and Woodstock Playhouse. At 18 Aileen returned to NYC where she made a living assisting photographers and as a puppeteer. In 1949-50 she joined a group of starry-eyed actors and directors to form “The Loft Players” and was also involved with the Circle in the Square Theatre in NYC. Two years later she began working for The Committee for World Disarmament and World Development, a non-governmental organization and in 1955 left to travel to Europe where she continued to work with the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom.  Upon her return she worked for the peace movement and was the director of the English-speaking program for foreign students, trainees, and United Nations personnel. In the late 1960s she moved to Woodstock permanently and became involved with the town political and cultural activities, including the Woodstock Artists Association, the Maverick concerts, the Woodstock Guild, the Woodstock School of Art, the Woodstock Town Board, the Woodstock Land Conservancy, and the Woodstock Youth Theater.

Put Yourself in the Picture


curated by Tom Gitterman

March 24 – May 13, 2001

The ideas behind Put Yourself in the Picture offer opportunities for photographers to present work of personal expression. This exhibition opens doors to numerous possibilities of exploration of self and the world we live in – our perceptions, beliefs, ideals and dreams.

By experiencing the impact of another’s voice we can empathize with similar truths or consider other ideas and experiences beyond our own. Whether it is positive or negative; cerebral, emotional, or formal; the impact of a fine photograph can expand and enrich our lives. Yet it doesn’t necessarily need to be filled with angst nor attempt to break the boundaries of the medium to be worthwhile. A mere change of perception or consideration of another point of view can be a rewarding experience. For me, the height of artistic revelation is the ability of the photograph to resonate long after it’s initial impact.

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Many of the exhibitors’ photographs examine intimate moments and expressions found in daily life. Kelly Badham, Zeva Oelbaum, and Marla Sweeney share an elegance of composition and ability to capture the magic of light that illuminates the beauty within in the seemingly mundane. Kelly and Marla capture human gestures and embody intimacy while Zeva’s images of empty rooms suggest infinite possible narratives. Each leads us to observe the exceptional within the familiar. Caroline Tse’s images explore intimacy in a more private and personal manner. They present the power of sensual and emotional depiction of the human body. The pictures created by Pam Berridge and Rebecca Silberman allude to a time past, implying a continuum of time and therefore interconnectedness. Each is not bound by the confines of the straight gelatin silver print and reveals the expressive potential of the medium. Nicholas Gaffney and Jamie Nicholl also investigate holistic notions of nature by presenting figures (seemingly themselves) in harmony with their environment. Clayton Miller’s exploration of another land, seems both a portrayal by the photographer of himself and the similarities of experience within different cultures. Marcia Reid Marsted’s images are part of an autobiographical essay on her experience with cancer and propose the potential of both a personal and more universal cathartic encounter with photography. Chloë Potter and Patricia McDonough both use humor as a means to communicate deeper levels of expression. Chloë creates bizarre scenes of fantasy and fable that hint at both the subtle truths within dreams and the reality within the surreal. Patricia’s images question cultural stereotypes and the spiritual within kitsch. I hope you enjoy the exhibition and are able to take something home with you greater than what you had when you arrived.

– Tom Gitterman, 2001

About the Curator
Tom Gitterman is the director of the Howard Greenberg Gallery, NYC, where they specialize in classic 20th century photography including New York School, fashion, Camera Work Gravures, and creative contemporary. They handle work by Keith Carter, Mary Ellen Mark, William Klein, Kenro Izu, James Van Der See, Roman Vishniac, Andre Kertesz, Lillian Bassman, Mark Seliger, Walker Evans, Sarah Moon, and Edward Steichen. Prior to his work at the Greenberg Gallery, Mr. Gitterman worked with Zabriskie Gallery and Pace/MacGill, both in NYC.


[one_half first]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Kelley Badham[/one_half] [one_half]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Pam Berridge[/one_half] [one_half first]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Nicholas Gaffney[/one_half] [one_half]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Marcia Reid Marsted[/one_half] [one_half first]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Patricia McDonough[/one_half] [one_half]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Clayton Miller[/one_half] [one_half first]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Jamie Nicholl[/one_half] [one_half]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Chloë Potter[/one_half] [one_half first]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Zeva Oelbaum[/one_half] [one_half]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Rebecca Silberman[/one_half] [one_half first]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Marla Sweeney[/one_half] [one_half]"Put Yourself in the Picture", curated by Tom Gitterman, March 24 - May 13, 2001Caroline Tse[/one_half] [hr]