This morning was something. A little snow
lay on the ground. The sun floated in a clear
blue sky. The sea was blue, and blue-green,
as far as the eye could see.
Scarcely a ripple. Calm. I dressed and went
for a walk — determined not to return
until I took in what Nature had to offer.
I passed close to some old, bent-over trees.
Crossed a field strewn with rocks
where snow had drifted. Kept going
until I reached the bluff.
Where I gazed at the sea, and the sky, and
the gulls wheeling over the white beach
far below. All lovely. All bathed in a pure
cold light. But, as usual, my thoughts
began to wander. I had to will
myself to see what I was seeing
and nothing else. I had to tell myself this is what
mattered, not the other. (And I did see it,
for a minute or two!) For a minute or two
it crowded out the usual musings on
what was right, and what was wrong — duty,
tender memories, thoughts of death, how I should treat
with my former wife. All the things
I hoped would go away this morning.
The stuff I live with every day. What
I’ve trampled on in order to stay alive.
But for a minute or two I did forget
myself and everything else. I know I did.
For when I turned back i didn’t know
where I was. Until some birds rose up
from the gnarled trees. And flew
in the direction I needed to be going.

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Now given the Blurb treatment.

More here.

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This week we’re kicking off a new series ‘ Where it’s at’. This is where the finest work we sing about on duckrabbit will go. The stuff that kicks our ass.

Where better to start then with  Joseph Rodriguez?

Regular readers will know that duckrabbit couldn’t give a toss about the tedious cult of the photographer but kids could do a lot worse then carve Rodriguez’s name into their arm.  Why?

Aren’t you fed up with all those knobheads that think its cool to shoot crack addicts, that think they’re the photographic answer to Jack Kerouac, Bukowski, or some other gin soaked poet heading for an early grave?

At duckrabbit we call it ‘glamorous grime’ and it seems to have an unshakable grip and unfathomable weight in the photographic community.  duckrabbit finds it bewildering.

So many photographers think that they can stride into the shadows and expect to make sense of something at such a shallow level. Infact the more screwed up their subject the better.

I mean do you really think its surprising that there are drug addicts in Afghanistan, the worlds number one producer of heroin? That’s about as revealing as shooting portraits of a chocoholic in a chocolate factory.

Please get a grip.

Why the rant?

Some people throw Rodriguez in with all this nonsense because he comes from a ghetto, but he’s completely different. I mean from what I can gather most of the photographers that practice ‘glamorous grime’ come out out of the worst kind of ghetto, the white American one. That’s why the down and out stuff turns them on so much, because it makes them feel like they’re down with the people.

Morons.

Rodriguez’s roots give him an empathy and an insight into the lives of others. That’s why it was Rodriguez who shot Harlem for the National Geographic back when they were doing stories that went beyond monotone.

He only sees people, not photo opportunities.

He records lives lived and he never measures the lives of those he shoots against a a photographic award, magazine spread or advertising contract.

His eye is never on the future, it is always in conversation with the now.

Rodriguez plays no games. He’s fooling no-one.  Simply put his work is essential.

This week we’ll be looking at his work on the Criminal Justice System in America and anything else we can claw from him.

I know that Pete Brook at Prison Photography will also be writing about Rodriguez, so I’ll give duckrabbit readers a heads up when his more cultured digital ink hits the screen.

Please take the time to read Joseph’s words below and watch one of three photo films produced by Benjamin Jarosch we’ll be featuring on the site.

Reentry in Los Angeles By Joseph Rodriguez

There have been many studies over the past several decades dealing with the Criminal Justice System in the United States. Most recently the Pew Center on the States released a report, One in 31 the Long Reach of American Corrections, stating

“The sentencing and release laws passed in the 1980s and 1990s put so many more people behind bars that last year the incarcerated population reached 2.3 million and, for the first time, one in 100 adults was in prison or jail.”

The report continues to say that,

“With far less notice, the number of people on probation or parole has skyrocketed to more than 5 million, up from 1.6 million just 25 years ago. Combined with those in prison and jail, a stunning 1 in every 31 adults, or 3.2 percent, is under some form of correctional control.”

What are the indirect but often overlooked impact of these statistics?

My work provides countless opportunities for discussion, dialogue, and exploration related to the lives of those people directly and indirectly impacted by the incarceration and subsequent release of prisoners – namely, the children, the spouses, and the community.

Through working with Walden House I have learned the ripple effect of incarceration is profound, but rarely discussed. The family paradigm is shifting.

What expectations does a wife have of her husband who has been away from home and society for over 10 years?  Why is he unable to sit at the dinner table like he used to?  Why has he forgotten how to talk to his children?  How long will it take for him to find work?  When, if ever, will the community embrace him as one of their own again?

How families adapt (or fail to adapt) to the absence and return of an incarcerated parent, spouse, son, or daughter goes largely unnoticed by the criminal justice system and is left to an over-burdened social services sector. With fewer resources available, the report said, “prison costs are blowing a hole in state budgets.” As a result many states are beginning to look at alternatives to the old way of dealing with incarceration, especially with its nonviolent drug offenders.

As a photojournalist I felt compelled to humanize these statistics.

At Walden House, a local drug and alcohol treatment center operating for 38 years in the state of California, I took it upon myself to photograph and interview residents, many of who have been repeat offenders. Its program has evolved into a national leader in developing strategies to help addicts recover and maintain their lives. Today it helps treat more than 3,400 men, women, and children daily.

RESPONSE

John Edwin Mason:

Rodriguez’s work is indeed amazing, DR–beautiful, emotionally powerful, intellectually challenging.

I’m part of a project that’s teaching photography to poor black and Latino teenagers. We’ve shown them Rodriguez’s website for a couple different reasons. First, we simply want them to see some great photography. Second, we want them to know that it’s done by people from their community and that it often reflects lives similar to theirs.

TOM WHITE:

I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Joseph a few times and a more decent, committed, straight talking gentleman one could not hope to meet. He photographs people because he genuinely gives a shit about their situation and wants you to do so too. An inspiration, and not just to photographers.

STAN B:

Excellent presentation!

This reminds me of a very simple and very powerful photography exhibit I saw back in the late 70’s. Small snapshot, B&W portraits of “Bowery bums” telling their stories typed on index cards of how they got to skid row. Some of the most incredibly, heart wrenching stories ever told- even if only half of them were true…

As for the the US prison industrial complex, along with “the war on drugs-” an outright collusion of policies.

ADAM WESTBROOK

“As a photojournalist I felt compelled to humanize these statistics.”

Amen.

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1. Where it’s at, Joseph Rodriguez (part two)
2. Joseph Rodriguez – Where it’s at part 5
3. ‘We’re living in the age of interruption.’ Joseph Rodriguez

In the way that the most of the wind
Happens where there are trees,

Most of the world is centred
About ourselves.

Often where the wind has gathered
The trees together and together,

One tree will take
Another in her arms and hold.

Their branches that are grinding
Madly together and together,

It is no real fire.
They are breaking each other.

Often I think I should be like
The single tree, going nowhere,

Since my own one arm could not and would not
Break the other. Yet by my broken bones

I tell new weather.

Paul Muldoon

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“It was like being a proper journalist again …. turning up in a town you’ve never been to and not being allowed to leave until you’ve got a story.“

Last Weekend duckrabbit ran its first multimedia training course at the Trinity Arts Centre, in Bristol, England.

We threw our two students right in at the deep end, unleashing them on the British seaside town of Weston super Mare. We gave them one day to sniff out a story, collect the photographs and audio, and another day to rough edit the material.

“When we went to Weston super-Mare with duckrabbit we had no idea of what we’d come out with, but there’s little more satisfying in that situation than pulling something out of the bag.

After a wander around the town centre to weigh up subject potential, we agreed a plan of action and with the help of Benjamin and David each did our thing. After just a few hours we returned home with a huge sense of achievement and the raw material for this finished piece.” Ciara Leeming.

The finished result (above) is a powerful, evocative and warm meditation on loss. We also hope it shows what magic can happen through training, as well as the undoubted talents of our trainees.

Please be aware to fully appreciate this feature you need to watch through right to the end.

What our students Ciara and Oliver have to say:

‘Thanks again for a great weekend, I was thinking the other day that it is well worth the money as I learned so much more than I would have done on any other form of photographic/software/audio training. I have been having lots of ideas to use it commercially.

I will stay in contact and give you guys a ring from time to time if that OK, also if there is any work or help training, or recommendations, or photographs you want me to do, I will be happy to oblige if I can get the time off work as I really think duckrabbit and multimedia is going to take off and I would like to be one of the original photographers working on high quality multimedia in the UK.” Oliver Edwards, Photographer.

‘I’m really pleased to have been one of the first to learn from duckrabbit because I love what they’re about and would love to capture even a tiny bit of that spirit in my own work. Audio interviewing was probably the biggest challenge for me but I’m now actually looking forward to integrating this into my own storytelling and being able to make my subjects’ voices heard.‘ Ciara Leeming, Freelance Journalist

For more information about duckrabbit’s training just give us a shout.

YOU RESPOND

ED KASHI

What a sweet little story that gives one a sense of the place and wonder of the event, yet conveys a deeper and universal message through the excellent audio. The images are wonderful as well. Great job!

jonwild

I am amazed at the quality of this. The layered soundtrack is a wonderful achievement in its own right, but add a consistent and varied selection of images with some superb individual pictures, and it reaches a level of professionalism that really astonishes for a first attempt. And that’s not even mentioning the journalistic nous to craft a narrative that turns from jolly seaside spectacle to a little parable on the frailty of life and relationships. Well done Ciara and Oliver for producing a great testament to duckrabbit’s skill and inspiration.

Miki Johnson

Fabulous! It is SO hard to elevate a little story like this past the simple visual wonder of the sculptures to something vast, no less than a commentary on humanity and mortality. The juxtaposition of the children/father’s comments and the kicker at the end is brilliant. Thanks guys.

MARK PAGE

I thought this was again a masterclass. Duckrabbit, storytellers supreme, and generous with their craft. Lessons well learnt by Ciara & Ollie……….

JUNO

Beautiful photos and audio! Places one right in the scene.
Who would have thought there’d be a great lesson to learn from sculpting sand. Thanks.

LISA

Woah, this is an absolutely fantastic little story. So gentle and humane…

My beautiful, wonderful Tinka dog, who was my best friend for eleven years passed away suddenly on Wednesday morning and somehow this wonderful meditation on life and loss appears on the inimitable Duckrabbit site just a few days later…

It has hit all the chords with me, not sentimental, but feeling and knowing and well, it just has the perfect tone really…

Wow, the more I know about these rascally Duckrabbits the more I appreciate their absolutely gorgeous hearts

LITTLE SIS HANNAH

Fabulous slide show – you weren’t kidding when you said it was a masterclass!

CIARA

wow, thanks everyone for the lovely feedback…we had such a great time making this, so it’s great to know that we got it right.
once again, a HUGE thank you to Benjamin and David for all their support and advice )

OLLIE

Thanks for all the comments everybody, was a great weekend and thanks again for everything I learned.

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Today this photo by Claire Hutton caught my eye. You could see it but instead Claire has written to say:

‘Duckrabbit you are very, very naughty, bad people for taking one of my photos that I’ve published on-line for everybody here to see and then putting it on your blog, telling your readers how great my work is in the hope some of your 10000 monthly readers discover me.  I demand you take it down immediately and use your magic to return me to the eighteenth century post haste.’

Claire

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But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

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