Category Editorial

A Year of Portraits with Maine’s Wildlife Commissioner

Judy Camuso
Judy Camuso, Commissioner, Maine Dept. of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife. © Brian Fitzgerald

 

© Brian Fitzgerald

Over the past year, I photographed Commissioner Judy Camuso of the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries & Wildlife (MDIFW) as she experienced Maine’s natural landscapes through different seasons. These portraits reflect her deep connection to the outdoors and her commitment to conserving the places she loves.  

Since being appointed by Governor Janet Mills in 2019, Judy’s leadership has gained national attention. Now serving as President of the Association of Fish and Wildlife Agencies, she represents conservation efforts across North America, focusing on wildlife policy, funding, and collaboration between agencies.

Judy’s roots as a wildlife biologist run deep. From her early days at Maine Audubon to becoming the first Maine commissioner on the North American Wetlands Conservation Act council, her career is built on a passion for protecting nature. Whether she’s in the field or at the table with policymakers, her connection with and dedication to Maine’s wildlife is clear.

© Brian Fitzgerald

Being able to capture these images of Judy in her element—hot, freezing cold and in-between—was such a pleasure.   I love environmental portraits like these because the locations themselves tell such an important story about the subject.    As such, it’s important to take the time to find the right spots well

before shoot day, and then be prepared with options in case of last minute schedule changes,  late-season snowstorms and other unplanned events.      My hope is that these portraits capture just a bit of Judy’s love of the outdoors and her deep sense of responsibility for Maine’s wilderness.   

 

 

 

 

–30–

 

© Brian Fitzgerald

 

© Brian Fitzgerald

 

© Brian Fitzgerald

 

© Brian Fitzgerald

 

© Brian Fitzgerald

 

 

 

© Brian Fitzgerald

The Funny Farm: Fighting for What Matters

Stories are everywhere—real, human stories about people fighting to find a home, keep one, live their lives, and take care of their families.

I love working with clients who make a real difference. Few organizations have helped change lives the way Pine Tree Legal Assistance (PTLA) has. Founded by Seward “Pat” Brewster in 1966, their nonprofit lawyers—working out of six offices across Maine—provide legal advice and represent low-income Mainers. They work with vulnerable populations, renters, Maine tribes, migrant workers, and many others who need a voice.

Each one of PTLA’s clients have stories.

I’m fortunate to be sharing the story of the Funny Farm—a ragtag group of individuals—including addicts, a former convict and an aging Merry Prankster. They’ve built a family by choice, creating a life together in a threadbare collection of buildings on a rural property in Lowell, Maine. Their story is powerful, as profound as the impact that Pine Tree Legal Assistance has had on their sober living community. If you ask the PTLA lawyers, they’ll shrug and say, “It’s what we do”. To the people who get to keep their homes, it’s everything.

I’m honored to tell this story and highlight the important work PTLA is doing in Maine.

 

–30–

Lessons from the Trail: Iceland’s Laugavegur Trail

Laugavegur Trail Iceland
Overlooking Aftlavtn Lake, Laugavegur Trail, Iceland. © Brian Fitzgerald

This week, I returned from hiking the Laugavegur Trail in Iceland. The 34-mile (55 km) trail winds from Landmannalaugar through the Fjallabak Nature Preserve to Thorsmork (Þórsmörk).

The landscape is otherworldly: high-altitude snowfields, boiling geothermal vents, emerald-green mossy slopes, and a miles-long highland desert coated in black ash and volcanic rock. After two years of planning with my friends—two from Washington State, one from Southern Maine—I thought I knew what to expect.

Yet, Iceland blew my mind. The trail was more demanding than I’d imagined, and the scenery more beautiful and extreme. I took a single camera and lens to document the journey. Though I’m no landscape photographer, Iceland made me feel like I could be.

We spent four days hiking, fording rivers, crossing snowfields, and scaling over 5,500 feet of elevation. We met Icelandic folks, hikers from around the world, and stayed in a hut with a group calling themselves Viking Women.

Trail to Hrafntinnusker. © Brian Fitzgerald

Three takeaways from this trip—my first significant international adventure in 20 years:

The Value of Attempting Hard Things
Hiking 5-8 hours for four days straight was a challenge, and it felt great to finish. Just getting there—lining up transportation, reserving huts a year in advance, packing and repacking—was also a challenge. In the end, the effort made for a truly satisfying experience, unlike any other I’ve ever had.

The Importance of Maintaining Relationships 
Many men I know have strong family ties but have let longstanding male friendships go. For over ten years, I’ve gathered annually with a small group of friends from both coasts. Some of this group went together to Iceland. Long-distance relationships can be maintained via text or Facebook, but getting together in person keeps them growing. Spend four days backpacking with someone, and you get to really know who they are.  I wouldn’t trade that time for anything.

Preparation Is Everything
A year ago, I was physically unprepared for a hike like the Laugavegur. It had been decades since my last multi-day backpacking trip. In my 20s, I would have winged it. Now, I wanted to enjoy the trip. I started walking daily over a year ago, racking up more than 2,400 miles in 2023, often with a 20-lb pack. I joined a Facebook group for trail hikers, researched, and asked my Icelandic neighbor for advice. Preparation made the trip smooth and enjoyable instead of painful and anxiety-filled.

So I’ve gotten my feet wet, and I plan to keep it up.  Not just with big, multi-day hikes in exotic places but also hikes here in Maine and New England.  Being outside is medicine for my soul.  To me there’s no more apt advice than this, attributed to Pythagoras: “Leave the roads; take the trails.” 

 

–30–

Laugavegur Trail, Iceland. © Brian Fitzgerald

 

Laugavegur Trail Iceland
Laugavegur Trail, Iceland. © Brian Fitzgerald

 

Laugavegur Trail, Iceland
Ash Desert, Laugavegur Trail, Iceland. © Brian Fitzgerald

 

Laugavegur Trail Iceland
Markarfljótsgljúfur Canyon, near Emstrur, Laugavegur Trail, Iceland. © Brian Fitzgerald

 

Laugavegur Trail, Iceland
Rhyolite ridges, Hrafntinnusker, Laugavegur Trail, Iceland. © Brian Fitzgerald

 

 

Laugavegur Trail, Iceland
Greg Rec navigates along the Slyppugilshryggur Ridge, high above the Krossa River in Thorsmork. © Brian Fitzgerald

 

 

 

 

Weaving Art and Function at Heide Martin Studio

As part of my ongoing Creating Spaces series featuring Maine artists in their working environments, I had the opportunity to work last fall with Heide Martin and her husband, co-founder Patrick Coughlin.  The couple operate Rockland, Maine-based Heide Martin Design Studio, creating unique and functional furniture and housewares.   

I was drawn to the studio because of the strong sense of style that permeates their work.   Working with natural, simple materials available here in Maine, the two produce exquisite pieces of art that happens to double as functional furniture. 

In particular, I love how Heide incorporates the art of weaving into many of her pieces, drawing for inspiration from an out-of-print book on traditional weaving patterns, among other sources.  

I’m happy to be able to show the video we produced that day, along with a few stills from my visit with Heide and Patrick in their spacious and well-ordered studio. 

Heide Martin and Patrick Coughlin at the Martin Design Studio. © Brian Fitzgerald

 

On the Campaign Trail with Senator Angus King

Maine Senator Angus King

It’s election year, which last month led to the opportunity to photograph Independent Maine Senator Angus King for his reelection campaign.

I’m used to hauling gear to handle any lighting situation. This time, though, I was just carrying a couple of cameras and a small off-camera flash. It felt like being a newspaper photojournalist again.

King, an avid photographer himself, wanted candid shots. No assistants, no extra gear. Just natural moments as he met with constituents in Brunswick and Skowhegan.  The mission was to travel fast and light, capturing real life as he made multiple stops along the way.

At one point, King left for an emergency dental appointment—reappearing 45 minutes later, ready to go. Soon he was throwing a football with Bowdoin College students at a local park (King was a high school football quarterback).  In my book, toughness is scheduling a dental appointment and a photo shoot on the same day.

Eight hours and five locations later, King was still going strong at an event in Skowhegan. It was fun and an honor to spend the day with him and his campaign.

Maine Senator Angus King
© Brian Fitzgerald
Maine Senator Angus King
© Brian Fitzgerald
Maine Senator Angus King
© Brian Fitzgerald

 

Maine Senator Angus King
© Brian Fitzgerald

 

Maine Senator Angus King
© Brian Fitzgerald

 

Maine Senator Angus King
© Brian Fitzgerald
Maine Senator Angus King
© Brian Fitzgerald

Photographing AI leader Amanda Stent at Colby

Female Scientist
Amanda Stent, inaugural Director of the Colby College Davis Institute for Artificial Intelligence.  ©Brian Fitzgerald

I’m excited to share one of the assignments I did for Colby College recently. This was to photograph Amanda Stent, the inaugural Director of the Davis Institute for Artificial Intelligence at Colby—the first such cross-disciplinary institute at a liberal arts college.

Professor and student discussion
©Brian Fitzgerald

Stent, a renowned expert in Natural Language Processing (NLP), transitioned from her role as NLP architect at Bloomberg L.P., where she led their AI team. She has authored or co-authored more than 100 papers and is co-inventor on more than 30 patents in NLP. In short, Stent is a big deal in the world of AI, and her leadership of the Davis Institute will allow Colby to fulfill its goal of integrating AI and machine learning into a liberal arts framework.

Luckily, the Colby Campus provided a number of interesting environments for portraits and for interactions with students. It was important to try to give a sense of the academic environment as well as the innovative work being done there at Colby.

Female Scientist
Amanda Stent, inaugural Director of the Colby College Davis Institute for Artificial Intelligence.  ©Brian Fitzgerald

 

 

 

Dylan Metrano: Crafting Tiny Marvels in a Cozy Space

 

Dylan Metrano
© Brian Fitzgerald

Dylan Metrano perches atop an adjustable office chair that—along with his drafting table—dominates his top-floor home studio. Glow-in-the-dark stars cling to the ceiling, remnants of a bygone nursery. A bookcase and artwork adorn the walls of its 8×10-foot interior.

“I’m in the space that I need, because I don’t work particularly big. My cutting mat is only 12′ x 12′ so I don’t really go much bigger than that,” says Metrano, a paper cutting artist based in Bath, Maine. “I wish I had more wall space to hang more art up in, but in general I’ve got everything I need in here, he says. “I can’t imagine working without it.”

In this cramped space, Metrano meticulously crafts paper designs, melding shapes and colors for cards, logos, T-shirts, posters, album covers, calendars and more. “My tools for paper cutting are basically an X-Acto knife, a glue stick and a ruler,” he explains. His sole extravagance, the rolling chair, came from an advance for illustrating a children’s book years ago. “I have to have a nice surface and a nice seat,” he explains.

Bending over his table, knife in hand, Metrano swiftly carves a black piece of paper with a stenciled design. The paper measures perhaps six inches square. It’s an animal—a bird.

Dylan Metrano
© Brian Fitzgerald

“Birds are definitely one of my favorites. There’s so many varieties and they’re so colorful and interesting. The feathers are really fun to create,” he says.

Metrano grew up in Massachusetts but frequented the coast of Maine as a child. He later worked on Monhegan Island, where he met his future wife, Mandy. They eventually married, settling down and starting a chocolate-making business called La Nef Chocolate. Throughout it all, Metrano continued crafting paper art, even when lacking a dedicated space. “When I first moved to Monhegan (Island) I was doing paper cutting in the cafe there, but it’s distracting with people coming and going.”

Metrano pauses, glancing up at his MacBook. The screen reveals a reference image of the subject that is gradually taking shape, cut by cut, on his board. It’s a Killdeer, a small shorebird. Metrano adds bits of colored paper—red for the eyes, brown for the head and feathers, white for the breast. Almost done.

Birds are easier to create with than people, Metrano observes. “You don’t have to be so specific with birds or animals because they’re not recognizable as an individual. If I try to do a Prince portrait and the nose is not quite right, it’s not going to look like him. That’s where it gets more difficult. Those are harder to do ultimately, but they’re really gratifying when they come out well,” he says.

When creating purely for personal enjoyment, Metrano—a lifelong musician as well as an artist–prefers to create musician portraits. “That’s what I do just for myself,” he remarks, displaying a few past creations: Deep Purple. Prince, of course. The Beatles, and others—both famous and obscure.

Beatles Portraits
© Brian Fitzgerald


Despite its limited size, Metrano’s studio is a sanctuary. When he enters, he disengages from the world outside. “It’s more like switching off,” Metrano chuckles. “It’s a meditative exercise for me. Once I’ve got my pencil marks down on paper and I start cutting, I don’t really think about it. A couple of hours goes by and I’ve got a piece done.”

Killdeer Bird
© Brian Fitzgerald


With the Killdeer finished, intricate cuts highlighting texture and color, Metrano rises from the table. His workspace is illuminated by a solitary desk lamp in the now-darkened room. It’s late, and his work is done.

“I do it because I enjoy it. If I ever find that I’m not enjoying it, I just won’t do it,” Metrano says, glancing around his close confines. “I’ll just go make more chocolates.”

 

–30–

Dylan Metrano
© Brian Fitzgerald

Creating Spaces is a project that explores the connection between Maine artists and craftsmen and their physical workspaces-—places that are often hallowed grounds of creativity and solitude, far from the public eye or the gallery.

Neon Dave: Shining Bright in Portland’s East Bayside

Neon Dave
Dave Jacobsen, AKA, “Neon Dave” at his East Bayside studio.  © Brian Fitzgerald

Dave Johansen, known as Neon Dave, pauses and surveys his workspace in Portland’s East Bayside neighborhood. Filled with piles of cut glass tubes, a various boxes and hand-drawn designs on paper, the cluttered area is one of three he utilizes in a shared space. “As a self-employed single person, it’s nice to have other people around sometimes,” he says. “Other times, it’s nice to rock out by yourself and get a lot of work done. But having people around makes everything more fun.”

Neon Dave has been a neon artist since 2003. “I was already doing art and painting and was using a lot of reflective, fluorescent colors and metallics,” Johansen explains. “I started thinking about incorporating light into the art, then researched neon, and I just decided to do it.”

© Brian Fitzgerald

He clarifies that while ‘neon’ traditionally refered to the use of neon gas–which produces a distinctive orange light–the name has come to encompass the use of various gasses and chemicals that produce a variety of colors used in glass tube signage and artwork.

Johansen’s studio is divided into sections: administration, assembly and paint, storage, and a glass flash shop, where tubes are heated, shaped, filled with gas, and bombarded with electrons.

Dave likes his studio’s location, amidst other art studios in a now-trendy neighborhood peppered with breweries and coffee shops. “It’s been interesting to have a front-row seat to a changing neighborhood as one of the first wave of artists,” he reflects. “The character has certainly changed. But I like being close to the action. For my local clients, if something goes wrong, like a transformer failure, I can respond quickly without spending the whole day.”

© Brian Fitzgerald

 

 

Creating Spaces is a project that explores the connection between Maine artists and craftsmen and their physical workspaces-—places that are often hallowed grounds of creativity and solitude, far from the public eye or the gallery.

Gael McKeon: Inspired and Unbound

 

Bass Luthier
Bass Luthier Gael McKeon, Portland, Maine. © Brian Fitzgerald

“As a young (bass) luthier, I thought I was going to make all of these innovative changes. You see people doing it all the time: they change (instruments) sporadically. It doesn’t work. If you’re going to make it different, (the instrument) still has to work,” says Gael McKeon.

© Brian Fitzgerald

McKeon, originally from New York City, has been a double bass luthier since 1998. He’s since worked and studied in New York, North Carolina, San Francisco, and Toulouse, France, before moving to Maine. In his workshop on the third floor of the State Theater building on Congress Street, McKeon repairs and restores traditional instruments while designing his own.

“Humidity and temperature control is essential. I’m ruined without that,” says McKeon of his tidy but cramped space, one wall dominated by views of Congress Street below. McKeon describes his shop as the ‘second best’ space he’s ever had. “I’m here mostly because of the windows,” he says. “It’s just big enough so that I can manage the amount of repairs that I can handle. If I had less space, I would have to tell people to hold on to their instruments while I finished other things. Here, I can juggle a little bit, and I can have adequate machinery.”

McKeon also builds his own instruments. He describes his approach as conventional, using traditional proportions, but with his own departures of design inspired by classic and modern forms. One bass on display in his shop sat broken for 12 years before he restored it with a paper fingerboard and a custom scroll that he first sketched in 1998. “I’ve added some innovations,” says McKeon, “but there are technical reasons for its aesthetics.”

 

Creating Spaces is a project that explores the connection between Maine artists and craftsmen and their physical workspaces-—places that are often hallowed grounds of creativity and solitude, far from the public eye or the gallery.

© Brian Fitzgerald

 

© Brian Fitzgerald

 

© Brian Fitzgerald

 

In the Room Where It Happens

Boxing Coach
Coach Bob Russo, Portland Boxing Club. © Brian Fitzgerald

During my years as a newspaper photo editor, I often invited myself into any meetings I saw that included an editor and writers.  Leaning into the doorway I’d ask, “Should I be in here?”  Early involvement in story development leads to better visual opportunities, benefitting the story and ultimately, readers.

Images wield unique emotional power.  This seems intuitive, and research backs it up.  Words are potent, but images go straight for the gut.  For evidence of the power of prose, pick up Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses.  But pair that visceral sort of writing with images that connect, and the impact multiplies.

Engaging in the storytelling process fires me up. There are tactical mountains to climb: the right questions to ask that dig deep into the marrow of the narrative bones of a story.

But you’ve got to be in the room.  You’ve got to have a chair and be part of the planning.  Even before the story takes shape.  Before you know where the story will take you.

–30–