Wednesday, February 13, 2013

New Member! Amanda Swain Bingham

We are thrilled to announce our newest member, Amanda Swain Bingham. A native of Peace Dale, Rhode Island, she received a BFA from Tufts University and The School of the Museum of Fine Arts, in Massachusetts.  She studied documentary photography with Bill Burke and attended Rhode Island School of Design for post graduate studies. Her most recent work is "Travels Without Skin", read more and view some of her work from the series below. 

Amanda Swain Bingham

I started noticing shadows out of the corner of my eye after the death of my very shy, but adventurous uncle four years ago. These sightings seemed protective, familiar and comical. I started to notice these shadows while doing household chores, allowing me to laugh at my vigorous vacuuming, as if I had friends to laugh with me at my rapid approach to cleaning. My shadow was a Giacometti figure dumping the trash, then an Aboriginal with a spear, unclogging the toilet. I began paying close attention to my shadows, how they enhanced domestic scenes, and more importantly, how they revealed my presence in nature. I encountered shadows everywhere. I experimented and grew more playful with my shadow; I searched water and glass for my shadow's reflection, and at once I was filled inside with rocks, roots or algae. I felt lonely when the sun vanished.
Children play with their shadows and imagine they are tangible. When I saw Peter Pan on Broadway as a child, I never forgot the first act when Peter's shadow somehow "fell off" of him. The notion of a free shadow, roaming and detached from its source made perfect sense to me. It still does. For a shadow to exist, light and darkness must both be present. The shadow is dark until  light "awakens" it, giving it life and its own free will.
So I share my story in "Travels Without Skin". I'm exposing the negative space and watching it come alive, connecting to the playful intersection of light and shadow. I'm my own prop, a useful shape to stand in light's way. The shadows may be lurking and ominous, or downright funny, as when my bat-eared terrier steps into a shot, but when my shadow-self appears more like a dream than a document, then I have the picture I want.

No comments: