 |
| From the series Broken Land |
Eliot graduated cum laude from the College of Charleston in 2007, receiving a Bachelors of Science in Anthropology and a Bachelors of Art in Art History. He received his Masters of Fine Art in photography with honors at the Savannah College of Art and Design in 2010. Eliot joined the University of South Carolina faculty in the fall of 2011 as an adjunct professor of photography.
Interview conducted by Allison Jarek and Ashley Kauschinger
Note: Click on an image to view larger
 |
| From the series Broken Land |
Light Leaked: What drew you to creating work about the American Civil War?
Eliot Dudik: I have been terrified by the idea of war in general since I was a young child. Whether watching a film portraying a particularly horrific war, or reading a book describing the hardships, I have never been able to imagine myself within the ranks. So my interest began with astonishment that others could face certain death on a battlefield and fight heroically, while all I can imagine for myself is something that looks an awful lot like a fainting goat.
These interests were compounded when I moved to South Carolina, about ten years ago, and very quickly found conversations turn toward aspects of the American Civil War at a shocking frequency. I am also attracted to the idea of cultural memory and the way events of the past are remembered or recounted in differing ways based on lived experience and the passing of narratives.
My goal is that the landscapes I present come alive with the acts of war, and cause folks to consider the divides in this country during the mid-19th century, comparing those divides to those that exists today in our culture and politics.
LL: Do your bodies of work, Broken Land and Still Lives, inform one another? How has this work developed over time?
ED: The STILL LIVES series grew out of the BROKEN LAND series. I had started visiting reenactments to make landscape images with the acts of war happening upon them. Initially, I thought the reenactments were outlandish, not being able to understand the drive that causes participants to travel long distances to reenact bloody battles. I learned a lot from reenactors and from some readings about why they do what they do, none of which was what I envisioned, and decided to embrace their tenacity and immortalize them above the landscape they fight for. For me, the two bodies of work use similar subject matter to communicate different things, with some overlap.
LL: How did you decide to use the diptych in Broken Land?
ED: Although they certainly look like diptyches, they are actually one image, exposed simultaneously within the camera. A close friend allowed me to borrow his 8x20 Korona view camera, and I was trying to figure out how I could use color film in it. Traditionally, only black and white film was available for the 8x20. I thought I would try to build a jig that would allow two sheets of color 8x10 film to come together, and slide into the 8x20 inch film holder. The separation in the film also lent to concepts I was interested in exploring, namely cultural and political divides in this country.
LL: Describe what a day of photographing is like for you. What do you look forward most when going out on a shoot?
ED: I'm afraid to anyone else, I am awfully boring when I go out to photograph, which is a real bummer since I enjoy having company. Typically, my outings involve a lot of driving, looking, driving without looking, reversing, parking, looking, getting out of the car and looking, walking, lugging a ton of gear somewhere, setting up, and making a photograph. There isn't anything I enjoy more. My heart is always racing when I'm on the hunt, and I try to balance that a bit with NPR and sunflower seeds. The unknown is what I look forward to the most when preparing to go photograph. Not knowing what I will find or who I will meet is always the most thrilling part, which is probably the same reason I am keen to explore antique and junk shops.
LL: What advice do you have for fellow photographers on time management, money, promotion, and continuing to make art?
ED: Oh boy. Find it, find it, do it, do it.
Nothing about being an artist is easy. Artists know that, or soon will. Having some control over the whole mess (time management, money, promotion, continuing to make art) is the unglamorous, behind-the-scenes art of being an artist. The vast majority of us cannot make a living strictly from our artwork, so another form of income is generally necessary. This severely complicates time management. 9-5? Forget full-time, being an artist is a full-life job. Be prepared to work long hours at your day job, and even longer hours in your studio. The best thing we have going for us is our creativity; it would be a terrible waste if our creativity was limited solely to our artwork. We need to be imaginative in all aspects of our lives to have a sustainable art practice. When looking for employment to put food on the table, think creatively. What can you do that will also somehow enhance or enable your artwork? My favorite example was a brilliant move by my friend, Mark Dorf, where in after finishing his undergraduate degree in photography, he moved to Hudson, NY and got a job at a carpentry business. Importantly, Mark was making work at that time that consisted of installed constructions in the landscape. The place of work not only gave him a paycheck to survive, but also gave him the tools, facility, and materials to create his artwork. Brilliant.
Money is a major concern for most of us. Art, and especially photography, is expensive, and doesn't have an end to its expense if you allow it. Similar to time management and the job front, be creative with the money you have and in the ways you seek funding. I like to buy good equipment once, rather than upgrading year after year. I find this to be a sound investment with everything excluding digital equipment... You're on your own there. I suggest making a 5-10 year plan, even in your head, as to who you are as an artist, and where you want to be. Make note of the equipment you must have to sustain your artistic career, and slowly try to piece it together. I don't buy anything new. It just doesn't make sense to me. I do my research on used equipment and shop around until I find exactly what I need for less than I've seen it previously. I try to encourage my students to start building their studios while they are students. Walking out of school, where you had a perfectly equipped and maintained studio, and into a world where you are largely on your own, is the scariest step. Start small, but do your best to begin building your workspace as soon as possible. Students are graduating from art programs and schools in great numbers, and I feel many of them drop out of the art making routine relatively quickly because they lack the space, equipment, time, money, and community that had enabled them the previous four years. It is vitally important to make a plan early to sustain your artwork, continually assess your plan, and make adjustments.
Once we accept that we are artists, it is up to us to promote our work. Especially in the beginning, no one else is going to do it for us. As we reach certain levels of success, the promotion of our work often takes on a life of its own, and efforts to promote are multiplied, which doesn't mean our job is finished, it just means we are receiving some help. Enter contests, juried shows, and apply for grants. Achieving any of these does wonders at promoting your work and builds your resume at the same time. Submit for solo exhibitions, and put together a thoughtful gallery packet. Building and sustaining your network is also significantly important. Set aside time to get out and meet people at conferences, gallery/museum openings, portfolio reviews, etc. I use Facebook a lot to continue relationships with folks I meet at these places. It helps me keep up to date with what everyone is doing, keep my network informed as to what I am doing, and learn about related news and opportunities that could be beneficial.
Lastly, on continuing to make art, I feel it's largely based on your ability and desire to do all of the above. If you need to make art, then you will find a way to do so. If you're not making art, but feel the need to, then determine what it is that's standing in your way, and kick it aside, unless it's a baby. If it's a baby, then kick something else aside, preferably not a person.
Eliot Dudik: I have been terrified by the idea of war in general since I was a young child. Whether watching a film portraying a particularly horrific war, or reading a book describing the hardships, I have never been able to imagine myself within the ranks. So my interest began with astonishment that others could face certain death on a battlefield and fight heroically, while all I can imagine for myself is something that looks an awful lot like a fainting goat.
These interests were compounded when I moved to South Carolina, about ten years ago, and very quickly found conversations turn toward aspects of the American Civil War at a shocking frequency. I am also attracted to the idea of cultural memory and the way events of the past are remembered or recounted in differing ways based on lived experience and the passing of narratives.
My goal is that the landscapes I present come alive with the acts of war, and cause folks to consider the divides in this country during the mid-19th century, comparing those divides to those that exists today in our culture and politics.
 |
| From the series Still Lives |
LL: Do your bodies of work, Broken Land and Still Lives, inform one another? How has this work developed over time?
ED: The STILL LIVES series grew out of the BROKEN LAND series. I had started visiting reenactments to make landscape images with the acts of war happening upon them. Initially, I thought the reenactments were outlandish, not being able to understand the drive that causes participants to travel long distances to reenact bloody battles. I learned a lot from reenactors and from some readings about why they do what they do, none of which was what I envisioned, and decided to embrace their tenacity and immortalize them above the landscape they fight for. For me, the two bodies of work use similar subject matter to communicate different things, with some overlap.
 |
| From the series Broken Land |
LL: How did you decide to use the diptych in Broken Land?
ED: Although they certainly look like diptyches, they are actually one image, exposed simultaneously within the camera. A close friend allowed me to borrow his 8x20 Korona view camera, and I was trying to figure out how I could use color film in it. Traditionally, only black and white film was available for the 8x20. I thought I would try to build a jig that would allow two sheets of color 8x10 film to come together, and slide into the 8x20 inch film holder. The separation in the film also lent to concepts I was interested in exploring, namely cultural and political divides in this country.
 |
| From the series Still Lives |
LL: Describe what a day of photographing is like for you. What do you look forward most when going out on a shoot?
ED: I'm afraid to anyone else, I am awfully boring when I go out to photograph, which is a real bummer since I enjoy having company. Typically, my outings involve a lot of driving, looking, driving without looking, reversing, parking, looking, getting out of the car and looking, walking, lugging a ton of gear somewhere, setting up, and making a photograph. There isn't anything I enjoy more. My heart is always racing when I'm on the hunt, and I try to balance that a bit with NPR and sunflower seeds. The unknown is what I look forward to the most when preparing to go photograph. Not knowing what I will find or who I will meet is always the most thrilling part, which is probably the same reason I am keen to explore antique and junk shops.
 |
| From the series Broken Land |
LL: What advice do you have for fellow photographers on time management, money, promotion, and continuing to make art?
ED: Oh boy. Find it, find it, do it, do it.
Nothing about being an artist is easy. Artists know that, or soon will. Having some control over the whole mess (time management, money, promotion, continuing to make art) is the unglamorous, behind-the-scenes art of being an artist. The vast majority of us cannot make a living strictly from our artwork, so another form of income is generally necessary. This severely complicates time management. 9-5? Forget full-time, being an artist is a full-life job. Be prepared to work long hours at your day job, and even longer hours in your studio. The best thing we have going for us is our creativity; it would be a terrible waste if our creativity was limited solely to our artwork. We need to be imaginative in all aspects of our lives to have a sustainable art practice. When looking for employment to put food on the table, think creatively. What can you do that will also somehow enhance or enable your artwork? My favorite example was a brilliant move by my friend, Mark Dorf, where in after finishing his undergraduate degree in photography, he moved to Hudson, NY and got a job at a carpentry business. Importantly, Mark was making work at that time that consisted of installed constructions in the landscape. The place of work not only gave him a paycheck to survive, but also gave him the tools, facility, and materials to create his artwork. Brilliant.
 |
| From the series Broken Land |
Money is a major concern for most of us. Art, and especially photography, is expensive, and doesn't have an end to its expense if you allow it. Similar to time management and the job front, be creative with the money you have and in the ways you seek funding. I like to buy good equipment once, rather than upgrading year after year. I find this to be a sound investment with everything excluding digital equipment... You're on your own there. I suggest making a 5-10 year plan, even in your head, as to who you are as an artist, and where you want to be. Make note of the equipment you must have to sustain your artistic career, and slowly try to piece it together. I don't buy anything new. It just doesn't make sense to me. I do my research on used equipment and shop around until I find exactly what I need for less than I've seen it previously. I try to encourage my students to start building their studios while they are students. Walking out of school, where you had a perfectly equipped and maintained studio, and into a world where you are largely on your own, is the scariest step. Start small, but do your best to begin building your workspace as soon as possible. Students are graduating from art programs and schools in great numbers, and I feel many of them drop out of the art making routine relatively quickly because they lack the space, equipment, time, money, and community that had enabled them the previous four years. It is vitally important to make a plan early to sustain your artwork, continually assess your plan, and make adjustments.
 |
| From the series Broken Land |
Once we accept that we are artists, it is up to us to promote our work. Especially in the beginning, no one else is going to do it for us. As we reach certain levels of success, the promotion of our work often takes on a life of its own, and efforts to promote are multiplied, which doesn't mean our job is finished, it just means we are receiving some help. Enter contests, juried shows, and apply for grants. Achieving any of these does wonders at promoting your work and builds your resume at the same time. Submit for solo exhibitions, and put together a thoughtful gallery packet. Building and sustaining your network is also significantly important. Set aside time to get out and meet people at conferences, gallery/museum openings, portfolio reviews, etc. I use Facebook a lot to continue relationships with folks I meet at these places. It helps me keep up to date with what everyone is doing, keep my network informed as to what I am doing, and learn about related news and opportunities that could be beneficial.
Lastly, on continuing to make art, I feel it's largely based on your ability and desire to do all of the above. If you need to make art, then you will find a way to do so. If you're not making art, but feel the need to, then determine what it is that's standing in your way, and kick it aside, unless it's a baby. If it's a baby, then kick something else aside, preferably not a person.
No comments:
Post a Comment