Posts tagged Maine Portrait

Redundancy and Creative Resilience

 

David Moses Bridges
David Moses Bridges, Passamaquoddy artist and activist, photographed in 2007.  © Brian Fitzgerald

 

Redundancy has a bad rap.  It conjures images of lost jobs, of being the expendable one.  But as a creative, redundancy is my secret weapon. It makes me and my creative work resilient.

Think about photo gear:  cameras, cards, batteries, lights—all need backups. When I’m far from home, a single gear failure can derail a shoot.  But the idea goes deeper. Redundant copies of client work, a shortlist of reliable assistants, multiple setups for every shoot—they all are necessary in my world.

A case in point: a recent shoot went sideways.  My first location and setup just wasn’t working the way I wanted it to.  Then, my subject got pulled into a surprise last-minute meeting.  This chewed up one hour of a two-hour shoot.  Fortunately, I’d arrived hours before the shoot and had other setups and locations waiting. I pivoted, and once my subject was free, we were able to move on.

Those second and third locations turned out to be gold.  Far better than the original, in fact.  Redundancy gave me options, which in turn gave me the ability to adapt.  Challenges are a certainty in any business. But if you give yourself options, you’re not just surviving—you’re thriving when things change. Maybe it’s better to reframe redundancy.  Rather than being expendable, it’s about being prepared. 

 

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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

 

Erica Moody: Forging Art in a Maine Barn

Erica Moody with Elio, © Brian Fitzgerald

Erica Moody, a metal fabricator and artist, sits in the late-1800s barn that now serves as her workshop in Waldoboro, Maine.  

Moody has been working with metal for more than three decades. After years working in Boston, she chose to move to Maine to forge a simpler life—and the handcrafted serving utensils she is increasingly known for.  Moody uses traditional metal crafting methods to make spoons, knives and other wares from copper, brass and steel.  Her work has been featured in local and national publications, such as Bon Appétit and Saveur.

After years of working with large pieces of metal, her scaled-down workshop—filled with vintage machining tools—is the perfect place to create her one-of-a-kind spoons, coffee scoops, and knives.  It’s also attached to her home, built in 1854.  “To be close to home, to be able to work right here is everything. It’s why I moved to Maine,” she says.

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

 

Metal Artist Erica Moody
© 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.

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From Cartoons to Glass: A Creative Maine Journey

 

Maine Glassblower David Jacobson
David Jacobson, Glassblower, Belfast, Maine. © Brian Fitzgerald

David Jacobson was a freshman majoring in telecommunications at Kent State University in Ohio when he happened upon an outdoor glassblowing demonstration. “I knew at that moment that was something I needed to do,” he said.

It took a few years—and a few colleges—but Jacobson did end up studying for an MFA in glassblowing. He also became a professional editorial cartoonist for a Gannett newspaper in New York, where he is from, spending his career cartooning for various publications and with a full-time syndicated cartoon with United Media. Still, he found himself taking more glassblowing classes on the side. “Things were going well there. Yet it turned out that my cartooning supported my glass habit,” said Jacobson.

By 2003, Jacobson’s glass art was selling in galleries. He relocated to Montville, Maine that same year and did what Mainers do: cobbled together an income,  by running a glass studio and a house-painting business.

Maine Glassblower David Jacobson
David Jacobson, Glassblower, Belfast, Maine. © Brian Fitzgerald

He rebuilt his 200-year-old barn into a glass studio. “There was a lot of hard work, a lot of doubt, and a lot of moments thinking, ‘I’m the biggest idiot in the world.’ But the passion was always there and fortunately, the talent was always there too. I just kept meeting the right people and kept saying yes.”

Saying yes is what led Jacobson to co-found a studio with artist Carmi Katsir as part of the Waterfall Arts in Belfast. They built out the studio using much of Jacobson’s equipment from his old studio, adapting it to run off of vegetable oil and electricity—one of just a handful in the US. Now, Jacobson produces his own work and, together with Katsir and others, teaches hot glass classes to the public and to Belfast high school students.

David Jacobson, Glassblower, Belfast, Maine. © Brian Fitzgerald

 

David Jacobson, Glassblower, Belfast, Maine. © Brian Fitzgerald

Of the studio, owned by Waterfall Arts, Jacobson says that he’s grateful. “It allows me to do work that makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

As a creative business owner, Jacobson was used to being a lone wolf but is excited by the community aspect of the Waterfall Arts Glassworks. “One of the greatest assets of glassblowing is that it is community-oriented. People are trained to work with someone. So to come into this community situation is thrilling. It’s affected my work in that it’s given me great enthusiasm to try new things,” Jacobson said.

“It’s beyond any kind of vision that I ever had.”

David Jacobson, Belfast, Maine ©Brian Fitzgerald

 

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Find out more about the Waterfall Arts Glassworks or to sign up for a class at the only public-access glassblowing studio in Maine. 

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.

The Soul of Work: Unveiling Authentic Brand Culture

 

Man in Suit talking
© Brian Fitzgerald

I’m not just a location portrait photographer. I’m a storyteller who crafts narratives that blend stills and motion. My interest lies somewhere even deeper: capturing the culture of work, the heart and soul that beats within every office, workshop, or studio.

It’s about more than just taking pictures. It’s about showing how people work in their environment, and revealing their authentic energy. Pulling back the curtain. Peering into the hidden machinery within, and revealing how the work gets done. That’s where the magic happens.

I thrive on telling the story of the ‘real’ company. No staged smiles. I’m talking about the laughter, the teamwork, the small moments that make a workplace come alive. The behind-the-scenes connections that feel real because they are real.

Brand image isn’t just about words or colors on a website. It’s far more profound and yet as simple as the feeling you get when you walk through the doors.

When you think about your brand, remember this: It’s more than a logo or a tagline. It’s a living, breathing entity. Don’t be afraid to show the world your company’s authentic personality.

Company meetings
© Brian Fitzgerald

 

© Brian Fitzgerald

 

Company meeting
© Brian Fitzgerald

A Tradition Forged in Iron

 

The artists and craftsmen who call Maine home share a cultural heritage with those who have gone before them.  This link to the past is epitomized by Sam Smith, an aptly-named blacksmith who operates several forges across the state as guildmaster of the  Maine Blacksmith’s Guild.

Smith and the guild use and teach 19th-century techniques and practices and have an active apprenticeship program. Smith also teaches and works his trade in Germany and Brazil for months each year.

“Preserving the skill set of working iron by hand and not allowing machines to do the work is my mission,” says Smith.

I spent time with Smith last year as part of a larger project on Maine craftsmen and artists and am happy to be able to show it here.  Smith was crafting a Brazilian Churrasco BBQ knife with a handle made from Peroba wood reclaimed from a 120-year-old home.  

 

Brazilian Churrasco Knife, © Sam Smith

Rituals That Preserve Energy and Creativity

Photo Shoot Gear LIst
Gear Checklist © Brian Fitzgerald

 

With years of commercial and editorial photography under my belt, I’ve learned that the devil is truly in the details. Never mind the big stuff, like bustling locations or fickle weather. It’s the little things that make or break a shoot. Like the old proverb goes, “for want of a nail, the kingdom was lost”, small errors can lead to big problems.

Photographers and videographers juggle a lot. From equipment to location details, timing to names—keeping track of it all is a Herculean task. That’s why experienced pros systemize their workflows to preempt surprises and minimize errors.

My pre- and post-shoot rituals are a must. Sure, they’re mundane and time-consuming, but not skipping them is a lesson I’ve learned the hard way. I always kick-off each location shoot with a gear checklist. Once packed, I tick off each item once more lest I wind up forgetting a digital card or battery. Post-shoot, the list doubles up to check off used items and note gear needing servicing.

My other post-shoot ritual is a comprehensive review—think of a military-style After-Action Review. This step is vital to noting both wins and areas for improvement. Only then can I truly learn and progress. This entire process adds about an hour, but it’s saved me ample headaches and led to constant refinement of my processes.

Over the years, I’ve used everything from journals and paper checklists to Evernote templates and now, Notion. The tech isn’t important—consistency is.

Challenge yourself to identify places in your workflow where you can add checklists and simple procedures that will free you up to focus on your creative (and more valuable) work.

 

Shoot Post Mortem
Shoot Post-Mortem by Brian Fitzgerald

 

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Lessons Learned hiking the Great Barrier Reef

Brian Fitzgerald
© Brian Fitzgerald

Back in the cold dark of January I made a resolution to trek at least 2023 miles this year. The primary goal was to train for a five-day backpacking trip to Iceland in 2024. But it also seemed a surefire way to spend more time outdoors, another goal.

Crunching the numbers, I saw I had to average about 5.5 miles per day. Easy on a sunny day, tougher during New England’s infamous cold, hot, or rainy days. It often meant fragmenting the daily goal into multiple smaller walks, while braving snow or puddles. Surprising to me at times, I’ve managed to stay on track.

By last weekend I surpassed 1200 miles; the same distance, end to end, as Australia’s Great Barrier Reef. In East Coasters terms, it’s the equivalent of a New York to Miami road trip. Or—per Google—the width of the Roman Empire in its heyday.

All it took was daily dedication. Here are a few insights, gleaned from the miles traveled so far.

Consistency is King: Author and speaker John Maxwell once said, “Small disciplines repeated with consistency every day lead to great achievements gained slowly over time.” Walking just a few miles daily may seem insignificant, but in a few months, those snowball into something noteworthy. Consistency morphs a goal into a habit that then pays compounded dividends.


Rise Early for the Win: Even on short, frosty days, I tried to squeeze in a walk before breakfast or school runs. On such days, I often surpassed my goal early in the day seemingly without effort. Whenever I skipped this routine, I found myself walking by headlamp after dinner, my family of skeptics warm and snug at home.


Healthy, Inside Out: The benefits of this simple exercise routine are remarkable. A good pair of shoes and a weighted pack are all it takes to feel fitter, evidenced by my newfound ease with hills and stairs.


Observing the Unseen: Slowing down has made me a keen observer. The city and my neighborhood seems more familiar now and I notice details of the landscape and city that seem invisible from the  window of a speeding car.


The Power of Linchpin Habits: My simple walking resolution has snowballed into a catalyst for other resolutions on my list. It’s less a goal and more a linchpin habit, spurring more creative work, better sleep, healthier eating, more family time, and boosted confidence that permeates my work and personal lives. It’s a reminder that success in one area can inspire success elsewhere.


I’m not recommending you try to hike the Great Barrier Reef.  But I hope my experience encourages you to discover a daily linchpin habit with its own compounding effects on your life.

 

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Dirty Jobs, Good Pay: Photographing Blue Collar Workers

Female Welder
© Brian Fitzgerald

It’s hard to miss the rising star of blue-collar work in this world reshaped by a pandemic and advancements in artificial intelligence (A.I.). Anyone struggling to hire a plumber, a carpenter or other tradesman since 2020 has seen the effects of this first-hand. Previously overlooked as somehow ‘less than’ white-collar jobs, blue-collar work has become a beacon of resilience and growth, sustaining the economy amidst major layoffs in the tech industry, as reported by Business Insider.

The reason for this is clear: blue-collar roles, which are often hands-on, technical, and require plenty of problem-solving skills, resist replacement by automation or outsourcing. They are firmly rooted in the physical world, characterized by their tangibility and practicality.

This sense of authenticity and grit is what continually draws me to photograph people who work with their hands. There’s a strong sense of narrative within these images, both of resilience and tenacity. I am inspired by their skill, focus, and commitment to doing the job right.

My goal is not merely to capture an image, but to pay tribute to the meticulous nature of blue collar work and its practical impact on our daily lives. Whether it’s the skilled hands of a carpenter shaping a piece of furniture, or the attentive gaze of a mechanic resurrecting an old car, each image tells a story of profound usefulness and necessity.

In our post-pandemic world, tradespeople are more than just workers. They are keepers of a time-honored tradition of skilled American labor. Their work stands as a testament to our collective ability to adapt, persevere, and endure.

Welder
© Brian Fitzgerald

 

Automotive Technicians
© Brian Fitzgerald

 

Industrial Worker
© Brian Fitzgerald