<< 1 >>
Rating: Summary: Personal and Passionate, Telluride Prose and Photography Review: Eileen Benjamin's "Telluride: Landscapes and Dreams" is a rare achievement: a coffee table book of black-and-white photography that is built to last. Benjamin, who, as her friend and fellow photographer Jay Dusard ("The North American Cowboy"), writes in an introduction, "deserves her position in the top rank of black-and-white nature photographers," has lived for many years above Telluride, which is quite an "above," since the town sits at almost 9,000 feet in the San Juan Mountains, in southwestern Colorado. She knows the terrain and the people, and those of us who pay attention to her book will begin to know it, and them, too. "The scenery is so spectacular, of course," Benjamin said, in an interview. "But what I wanted to do with this book was to introduce the people who live here, who are every bit as spectacular as the place wherein they live. In the end, after we've hiked so many trails and skied so many runs, it is the people, so unique and involved, that keep us all in Telluride." The photographs, shot with a 4X5 field camera, are as outstanding as they are outrageous. The expected shots of soaring mountain ranges and beaver ponds and aspen groves play their customary roles in winning form. But included, too, are unexpected portraits of various Telluride citizens, people who, according to Benjamin's wonderful and enlightening vignettes at the end of the book, have made and are making a difference in a town and a region under constant pressure to change, to grow, to build, to BOOM. My own favorite picture, though, is titled "Still Life 2000." It is a typical "still life" formation of several different, yet related items, all gathered around and stacked upon a computer. It is typical only in type, in being representative of the category. It is untypical, and entirely so, for the rest of the book's collection; a very pleasant surprise. Benjamin formed her own publishing company for this venture. She has another book, with Telluride poet Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, called "if you listen," yet wanted to publish this one herself so that, as she told me, "I could control the finished product." "It is already into its second printing," Benjamin said, in mid-December. "I learned so much by taking it through the entire process, and I plan to do more." Among the "more" being planned, is a book about the Schmid Ranch (a photo of which can be seen in "Telluride: Landscapes and Dreams"), located on Wilson Mesa near Telluride, and another, which Benjamin describes as being "a total departure." "It will be called `The Fabric of A Woman,' she said. "Rosemerry (Wahtola Trommer) and I are already working on it. It will be all still life, all linen and fabric, beginning with the birthing sheet and running, like a quilt, all through all the fabrics, the material that make up a woman's life - combined with Rosemerry's poetry." Telluride, Benjamin's home and workplace, and poetry are made for each other. In the volume under review here, Janet Steinberg, a Telluride writer who now lives near Santa Fe, has provided the verse. I found Steinberg's contributions moving, fully capable of standing alone; the slight poems are every bit as grand as the enormous scenery which surrounds them. Benjamin's publishing company, Montoya Publishing, got its name from her husband Norm's horse, dead now. A horse, Benjamin said, "that took such good care of Norm and all of us, a wonderful horse. By naming the company after him, it just made the whole enterprise that much more personal, added that much more passion to it." "Personal" and "passionate" are words that well describe "Telluride: Landscapes and Dreams." Benjamin hung from open helicopter doorways, snowshoed deep into high backcountry, waited patiently for shadows to fall just so... "That is why I work in black and white," she said. "Snow is the most difficult thing to capture photographically, to make it white and yet give it texture without turning it gray. There is composition, lighting, and the magic of obtaining a good print. I work in black and white, too, because I love the idea of the darkroom, of being in control of my work's destiny, of working without the help of color. It is a much more challenging medium, and justifiably more expressive, filled with drama." And this book is filled with excellent results. I know Telluride. I know it well enough to know that Benjamin knows Telluride, too, and is, with this book, offering everyone else the opportunity to get acquainted with what Steinberg calls "a magical place." Those who do read the book, who do get acquainted with Telluride, and with Eileen Benjamin's work, will find themselves involved in special relationships, relationships that, like the book itself, will be built to last. - Mike Ritchey
Rating: Summary: Personal and Passionate, Telluride Prose and Photography Review: Eileen Benjamin's "Telluride: Landscapes and Dreams" is a rare achievement: a coffee table book of black-and-white photography that is built to last. Benjamin, who, as her friend and fellow photographer Jay Dusard ("The North American Cowboy"), writes in an introduction, "deserves her position in the top rank of black-and-white nature photographers," has lived for many years above Telluride, which is quite an "above," since the town sits at almost 9,000 feet in the San Juan Mountains, in southwestern Colorado. She knows the terrain and the people, and those of us who pay attention to her book will begin to know it, and them, too. "The scenery is so spectacular, of course," Benjamin said, in an interview. "But what I wanted to do with this book was to introduce the people who live here, who are every bit as spectacular as the place wherein they live. In the end, after we've hiked so many trails and skied so many runs, it is the people, so unique and involved, that keep us all in Telluride." The photographs, shot with a 4X5 field camera, are as outstanding as they are outrageous. The expected shots of soaring mountain ranges and beaver ponds and aspen groves play their customary roles in winning form. But included, too, are unexpected portraits of various Telluride citizens, people who, according to Benjamin's wonderful and enlightening vignettes at the end of the book, have made and are making a difference in a town and a region under constant pressure to change, to grow, to build, to BOOM. My own favorite picture, though, is titled "Still Life 2000." It is a typical "still life" formation of several different, yet related items, all gathered around and stacked upon a computer. It is typical only in type, in being representative of the category. It is untypical, and entirely so, for the rest of the book's collection; a very pleasant surprise. Benjamin formed her own publishing company for this venture. She has another book, with Telluride poet Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, called "if you listen," yet wanted to publish this one herself so that, as she told me, "I could control the finished product." "It is already into its second printing," Benjamin said, in mid-December. "I learned so much by taking it through the entire process, and I plan to do more." Among the "more" being planned, is a book about the Schmid Ranch (a photo of which can be seen in "Telluride: Landscapes and Dreams"), located on Wilson Mesa near Telluride, and another, which Benjamin describes as being "a total departure." "It will be called `The Fabric of A Woman,' she said. "Rosemerry (Wahtola Trommer) and I are already working on it. It will be all still life, all linen and fabric, beginning with the birthing sheet and running, like a quilt, all through all the fabrics, the material that make up a woman's life - combined with Rosemerry's poetry." Telluride, Benjamin's home and workplace, and poetry are made for each other. In the volume under review here, Janet Steinberg, a Telluride writer who now lives near Santa Fe, has provided the verse. I found Steinberg's contributions moving, fully capable of standing alone; the slight poems are every bit as grand as the enormous scenery which surrounds them. Benjamin's publishing company, Montoya Publishing, got its name from her husband Norm's horse, dead now. A horse, Benjamin said, "that took such good care of Norm and all of us, a wonderful horse. By naming the company after him, it just made the whole enterprise that much more personal, added that much more passion to it." "Personal" and "passionate" are words that well describe "Telluride: Landscapes and Dreams." Benjamin hung from open helicopter doorways, snowshoed deep into high backcountry, waited patiently for shadows to fall just so... "That is why I work in black and white," she said. "Snow is the most difficult thing to capture photographically, to make it white and yet give it texture without turning it gray. There is composition, lighting, and the magic of obtaining a good print. I work in black and white, too, because I love the idea of the darkroom, of being in control of my work's destiny, of working without the help of color. It is a much more challenging medium, and justifiably more expressive, filled with drama." And this book is filled with excellent results. I know Telluride. I know it well enough to know that Benjamin knows Telluride, too, and is, with this book, offering everyone else the opportunity to get acquainted with what Steinberg calls "a magical place." Those who do read the book, who do get acquainted with Telluride, and with Eileen Benjamin's work, will find themselves involved in special relationships, relationships that, like the book itself, will be built to last. - Mike Ritchey
<< 1 >>
|