Photolena
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  • April24th

    Limited Edition Series: 20

    One of the things I most enjoy about photographing such old relics of society is the history behind the architecture – stories told not only by the style of building and type of business, but also by the remnants and relics left behind by those who once toiled, worshipped, or slept within these spaces.

    Traditionally, I research each location I shoot to get some idea of its past before heading out as I find it helps me connect with and understand the building’s presence within the community and the circumstances of its demise. The more I immerse myself in the aesthetics of the building and the remnants therein, I find in myself a need to understand the entirety of my subject and not just the context in which I am shooting. Questions come to mind such as “who where the people who interacted with this place?” and “why did these people leave?”, or “what was this place like when it was alive with activity?”

    But how to get that across in my photography?

    A good photograph tells a story and these stories are present in landscape photos, architectural photos, portraits, street scenes, or whatever you choose to shoot. Sometimes they can be harder to find but making you contemplate, think, and discuss, I think, is also a goal of any art.

    Through urban exploration photography, I’m already exploring the concepts of impermanence, deconstruction, industrial evolution and devolution, and strive to convey these ideas in a way that educates, informs, and engages. How to enhance the story?

    After a long process of trial and error and experimentation – which is always encouraged in art – I started this new project that blends time periods, allowing the viewer to see the location in its present state of decay while glimpsing what might have been. This Constructive Deconstruction allows nature (and sometimes people) to deconstruct for me while I construct it back the only way I can – not through brick and mortar, but through history and imagery and storytelling.

    I’ll be working on this one as long as I find suitable locations to apply the technique to – which at this time means as long as spaces are forgotten by society and I can hold a camera.

    Additional images in my “Experimental” gallery.

  • April6th

    If you ever wander find yourself in a small alleyway off an unassuming street in what was once Detroit’s own Little Poland, you may be lucky enough to witness folk art gone wild, exploding out beyond its boundaries, too robust and dynamic to be contained. To the neighbours it’s Hamtramck Disneyland, but to Dmytro Szylak, a retired General Motors assembly line worker, it’s a hobby that’s kept him busy and vibrant well into his 90s.

    Sitting off the I-75, Hamtramck was once a bustling little Polish enclave, meriting visits from John F Kennedy and the world’s first Polish Pope in 1987. Today, it’s an ethnic melting pot with many of the original residents in their senior years. Few original Polish businesses remain, such as Dudek’s where you can still purchase placki, pierogi, and naleshniki, and there still stand a Polish and Ukrainian church around the corner from Dmytro’s famous home.

    Dmytro’s ever-evolving art installation rises above his backyard and into the electrical wires overhead, spanning two garages. Decorated with found objects and kitsch art, you see the influence of his Ukrainian background everywhere – the Ukrainian Trident dominates the towering structure; many of the objects are painted bright yellow and blue, the colours of the Ukrainian flag; Ukrainian city names decorate in English and in Cyrillic.

    The sound of the saw never seems to stop as Dmytro works on his next piece in the garage that he uses as his workshop. A friendly man, he was more than willing to take us on a tour of the back yard, especially once I spoke to him in Ukrainian. He showed us many of the new pieces he had produced – his preference being for artwork with motion such as whirlygig, windmills, and windcatchers – all crafted from wood and steel and decorated with paint, silk flowers, photos, posters, hats, dolls, glassware….you name it. He also has the largest collection of carousel and hobby horses I have ever seen in a Folk Art installation and they are lovingly incorporated high up where they can be seen by all. As he demonstrated many of his new machines, he chatted with me about his artwork, where he came from, and asked me all about my family.

    For a man with absolutely no art education or background, his work can be really beautiful. I find that I can take or leave Folk Art, but you can see the determination in his work, and his ties to Ukraine and to the US are evident in every piece he lovingly crafts. Everything has a place and a reason in his odd menagerie and I wish I could have been there when the entire installation lights up at night.

    If you’re ever at 12087 Klinger St. in Detroit, head out to the back alley (don’t worry about all the barking dogs). Say hello to Dmytro, sign his guestbook and give him a ten for his troubles (he is retired after all) so he can continue his work and maybe he’ll take you for a tour as well…