{"id":4155,"date":"2023-07-20T14:22:51","date_gmt":"2023-07-20T21:22:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogschapman.wpenginepowered.com\/collections\/2023\/07\/20\/stillwater-how-three-photographers-suspend-an-ever-moving-element-in-time\/"},"modified":"2026-07-20T06:13:24","modified_gmt":"2026-07-20T06:13:24","slug":"stillwater-how-three-photographers-suspend-an-ever-moving-element-in-time","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.chapman.edu\/collections\/2023\/07\/20\/stillwater-how-three-photographers-suspend-an-ever-moving-element-in-time\/","title":{"rendered":"Stillwater\u2014 How Three Photographers Suspend an Ever"},"content":{"rendered":"

As summer sends thousands fleeing to seas and poolsides, we find ourselves reminded of water\u2019s constant need to move\u2014 waves recede, riverbeds race, ice pops drip to the floor. But what happens when artists disobey mother nature and depict water as a fossil, a singular frame frozen in time. Join Wilkinson College\u2019s Escalette Collection of Art in exploring three photographers in our collection who achieved the impossible and suspended this ever-moving element.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Amir Zaki<\/h3>\n
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Amir Zaki, Sliver I, ultrachrome archival photograph, 2014. Purchased with acquisition funds.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Sliver 1<\/em> by Amir Zaki is almost impossible to properly capture without viewing it in person. The longer one stares at this seemingly common wave, all that is familiar turns unfamiliar, leaving viewers with only questions for this remarkable photographer.<\/span><\/p>\n

Zaki employs the term \u201chybrid photography\u201d to describe the techniques utilized in his mind-bending Sliver<\/em> series. Disobeying the rules of perspective, the horizon line is made ambiguous and all remnants of surrounding land is erased, creating a disorienting sight. Specifically in Sliver 1<\/em>, Zaki digitally compacts the image. What seems true to life from afar becomes pixelated up close, asking us to question whether this is a photograph or a digital recreation.<\/span><\/p>\n

Intentionally distorting texture and orientation, Zaki takes what is typical, removes context, and leaves viewers adrift on an endless sea.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Cara Romero<\/h3>\n
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Cara Romero, Eufaula Girls, photograph printed on Legacy Platine paper, 2015. Purchased with acquisition funds.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

In Eufaula Girls<\/em>, an installment of Cara Romero\u2019s stunning series \u201cWater Memories,\u201d Muscogee mother and daughter Lisa and Crickett Tiger are suspended in time, paused amidst their decent towards murky depths. Referencing the floods in Eufaula, Oklahoma, Romero\u2019s photograph suggests that man\u2019s relationship with water is cyclical in nature, with the element both sustaining life and bringing it to an end.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018Water Memories\u2019 are photography dreamscapes dealing with Native American relationships to water, the forces of man and of Mother Nature. They are individual explorations of space, memory, and diverse Indigenous narratives that are both terrifying and peaceful.\u201d \u2014Cara Romero\u00a0<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Romero often utilizes photography to present womanhood from uniquely indigenous lens, exploring the Chemehuevi belief that women hold innate strength as life-giver, existing as equals to men. In Eufaula Girls<\/em>, this belief is upheld, with the mother-daughter pair depicted in a powerful, almost supernatural fashion.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

To capture the Tiger women, Romero encases her camera equipment and scuba dove, the non-digital process bringing raw realism to the breathtaking scene.<\/span><\/p>\n

Kenda North<\/h3>\n