Graeme Mitchell » still & ‘scape work

wet pink lips out there smearing things

admin — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 23:30:22 +0000

Could I have been subconsciously following someone? She intrigued me with the cigarette and then totally stole my heart with the coffee cup, but then she went cold, and in my mind we’d harsh quarrels and an ugly split. By the time I made it to my subway stop two blocks away it was over,

photo: by Graeme Mitchell

New Book: “Savage, Dixie, Slaughterville”

admin — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 04:07:14 +0000

I’m excited about this new book, since it represents for me both a confluence of old ideas and also a growth into new ones, but beyond that I don’t know what to say about it in particular w/o betraying it, so I’ll leave the rest up to you. A slideshow of all the images will be up on my portfolio site and here when it’s done in the next week or so, in the meantime a few pics. Finally, there are only 100 copies of this, so let me know if you want one.

Title: Savage, Dixie, Slaughterville
Edition Size: 100, signed and numbered
Size: 8.5×11″
Page count: 78
Printing: Digital printing on 60lb Natural Exact Opaque stock
Shipped in a clear plastic protective sleeve
Price $20 + shipping
(email studio@graememitchell.com to order)

UPDATE: Printed Matter and Dashwood Books will also be carrying a select number of copies of this book if you prefer to purchase it in person.

Pure Sugar

admin — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 22:16:43 +0000

Pure Sugar, 2011 by Graeme Mitchell

“My Prospect”

admin — Tue, 24 May 2011 21:35:38 +0000

I shared some of these previously when I first began them; they’re photographs from walks this winter in Prospect Park, Brooklyn. I liked them enough that I’m doing a small final series called “My Prospect.”

photo: by Graeme Mitchell

NYC Journal 96: more trees

admin — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 12:37:52 +0000

Including a poem someone had sent me too:

It was difficult learning to breathe. But it was even more
difficult learning to forget. Though in the end I learned
both how to breathe and forget. Sometimes I juggle one orange
while I do this. Breathe and forget. So it is ok to be
here where the rose is torn. Where the streets are a jungle
of burnt glass and the world has blood in it’s eye. Breathe
and forget. It’s what I told the newpaper-boy. For a christmas
tip

By Patrick O’Connell

photo: by Graeme Mitchell

NYC Journal 95: For Benjamin

admin — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 00:10:55 +0000

I took these walks in the park and all the while my close friend Benjamin was on my mind, so I figured these pictures must be for him.

photo: by Graeme Mitchell

“Occurrences” newsprint version

admin — Tue, 07 Dec 2010 17:20:13 +0000

Recently I shared a new series of photographs called Occurrences. This is the newsprint edition. There are 1,000 copies of this.

It’s approx 11×14.” 56 pages.

Email if you would like one, $8 signed and shipped in the US.

They should also be available at Dashwood Books in NYC.

New Book: “Occurrences”

admin — Fri, 19 Nov 2010 20:04:43 +0000

Occurrences is a new book of 44 photographs. It is 58pg in length, sized 11×8.5,” printed on an archival acid free matte paper, and bound in linen hardcover. This hardcover edition will be extremely limited at 6 signed and numbered books and one A/P. However, an edition of 6 isn’t many, so I may do a newsprint edition later.

This quick little video shows the A/P. There will be a few very minor changes made to the finals, but nothing major.

And a big thanks to, Aaron Binaco for the help editing this work.

Update: this edition is sold out.

Chicken Feet, 2

admin — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 17:35:41 +0000

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell 2010

Chicken Feet

admin — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 04:03:25 +0000

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2010

Wire

admin — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 02:59:39 +0000

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell. 2010

Flowers from Summer

admin — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 22:07:41 +0000

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell 2010

Walker Evan’s Still Lifes

admin — Sun, 04 Jul 2010 15:26:06 +0000

Walker Evans is one of the cornerstones in the history of American photography, and while a few of his seminal images are in the popular canon, the heft of his oeuvre is, I believe, oft passed over for more accessible photographers like his contemporary H.C. Bresson. Yet, Evan’s work to me is nearly on a different plane – not above or below, more far to another side – unsentimental, demanding, lasting, and intensely intelligent. Indeed, Bresson wrote himself in a letter to a colleague in 2001, “[i]f it had not been for the challenge of the work of Walker Evans, I don’t think I would have remained a photographer.” Needless to say, if you haven’t, you should find a book on Evans. He did a lot. A lot. Or the Met has an immense Walker Evan’s archive online, and the MOMA also has a succinct collection of his work.

I’m mentioning Evans b/c recently I’ve begun to look at his still lives and interiors. They leave me enthralled and immersed and nearly stunned. No hyperbole. In these I see everything from Pop art to Roger Ballen. This isn’t exactly internet work, so to speak, not wow work I guess: it’s quieter than that, but still, do not underestimate it.

photo: Penny Picture Display, Savannah, Georgia.. 1936. By Walker Evans.

photo: Kitchen Corner, Tenant Farmhouse, Hale County, Alabama. 1936. By Walker Evans.

photo: Kitchen Wall, Alabama Farmstead. 1936. By Walker Evans.

photo: Negro Barber Shop Interior, Atlanta. 1936. By Walker Evans.

photo: The Cactus Plant, Interior Detail of a Portuguese House, Truro, Massachusetts, circa 1930. By Walker Evans.

photo: Dressing Stand with Oval Mirror in Bedroom, Hobe Sound, Florida. 1934. By Walker Evans.

Flowers from Spring 2

admin — Fri, 25 Jun 2010 22:39:40 +0000

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell

Cape Cod

admin — Tue, 22 Jun 2010 21:21:02 +0000

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell

Flowers from Spring

admin — Sun, 23 May 2010 21:01:27 +0000

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell

The Mojave Desert

admin — Sat, 22 May 2010 12:53:57 +0000

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell

Valley of Fire, Nevada

admin — Fri, 21 May 2010 23:00:15 +0000

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell

Salton Sea, California

admin — Fri, 21 May 2010 22:59:53 +0000

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell

Lake Mead, Nevada

admin — Fri, 21 May 2010 22:44:07 +0000

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell

Amboy, California

admin — Fri, 21 May 2010 22:41:53 +0000

Twenty Nine Palms, California

admin — Fri, 21 May 2010 20:16:19 +0000

Speaking of Twenty Nine Palms. A really great great great photograph by An-My Lê was taken at the marine base there. It’s in the MOMA collection.

Joshua Tree National Park

admin — Fri, 21 May 2010 14:33:27 +0000

Happy Valley, Oregon

admin — Wed, 19 May 2010 20:50:14 +0000

‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
‘They called me the hyacinth girl.’
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Od’ und leer das Meer.

-from T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land

Flowers from the Fall, 3

admin — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 13:15:33 +0000

“that meagre and fragile thread… by which the little surface corners and edges of men’s secret and solitary lives may be joined for an instant now and then before sinking back into the darkness where the spirit cried for the first time and was not heard and will cry for the last time and will not be heard then either”

-from Absolom, Absolom! by William Faulkner.

A Series Studying Reflected Light, Part 5

admin — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 14:29:45 +0000

Flowers from the Fall, 2

admin — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 14:13:54 +0000

“his very body was an empty hall echoing with sonorous defeated names; he was not a being, an entity, he was a commonwealth. He was a barracks filled with stubborn, back-looking ghosts…”

-from Absolom, Absolom! by William Faulkner.

A Series Studying Reflected Light, Part 4

admin — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 16:39:53 +0000

More, yet:

Flowers from the Fall

admin — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 19:51:11 +0000

We have a few old mouth-to-mouth tales, we exhume from old trunks and boxes and drawers letters without salutation or signature, in which men and women who once lived and breathed are now merely initials or nicknames out of some now incomprehensible affection which sound to us like Sanskrit or Chocktaw; we see dimly people, the people in whose living blood and seed we ourselves lay dormant and waiting, in this shadowy attenuation of time possessing now heroic proportions, performing their acts of simple passion and simple violence, impervious to time and inexplicable

-from Absolom, Absolom! by William Faulkner.

A Series Studying Reflected Light, Part 3

admin — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 00:30:07 +0000

More of these,