Yesterday, we met tragic news on our morning blog tour. Barry Johnson at Art Scatter posted a rushed announcement that curator and photographer Terry Toedtemeier had died in Hood River, following a lecture and book signing for his recently released opus, Wild Beauty: Photographs of the Columbia River Gorge, 1867–1957. Last night, D.K. Row posted a lovely obituary at OregonLive, with a shorter article running in this morning's Oregonian. (The online version is worth a visit because it has a more heartfelt, personal voice).
“Wild Beauty” is indeed a crowning achievement for a career and life distinguished by both artistry and scholarship. But it was only the first of what was to be the Northwest Photography Series, a project that Terry and John envisioned as an ongoing collection of finely designed and crafted photography books with a regional focus. While they were planning and raising funds for "Wild Beauty," they were already thinking excitedly about the next books in the series, including one based on a fascinating collection of photographs of Portland's Romany (aka "gypsy") community before it was pushed out of downtown. I'm saddened to think that Terry's passing may mean that we won't see the fruit of all that creative planning.
Several years ago, Mary created Kinder Weather, describing it as a work inspired by her study of photographs of basalt formations shot by Terry, her colleague, friend and supporter. I've seen it performed at least twice, and it is a wonderful piece. However, I've never quite spotted a clear connection between photos of basalt columns and the precise, abstract movement on stage--if the thread is there, it's thin and subtle. Last night I checked to see if I might have a DVD of Kinder Weather to watch for the link again. (Many grant applications require video work samples, so I end up with a few extras lying around). Unfortunately, I could not find a reference copy and still can't answer that question.
My inability to connect the dots from Mary's source material to the final dance doesn't matter in the end—let the creative muse remain veiled. I can appreciate the dances without needing to understand them. In the case of Kinder Weather, the one thing I will assume is that part of what inspired Mary was her abiding respect for Terry Toedtemeier as a fellow artist and a dear friend. I know that there are other friends and colleagues who feel the same and who are grieving today.
My inability to connect the dots from Mary's source material to the final dance doesn't matter in the end—let the creative muse remain veiled. I can appreciate the dances without needing to understand them. In the case of Kinder Weather, the one thing I will assume is that part of what inspired Mary was her abiding respect for Terry Toedtemeier as a fellow artist and a dear friend. I know that there are other friends and colleagues who feel the same and who are grieving today.
UPDATES:
No comments:
Post a Comment