That Dress, That One

Okay so I just have a lot to spill about SECCA night.

For one thing, I really like this image graciously made by Sir George Schober. I like the gesture.

My thumb pretty much tells the story. That dress, that one up there on the massive screen, that one is the pilgram's outfit I wore the night I met my future husband.

One of my friends wrote after the show, "Those were some fantastic stories and some really bad dresses." True dat, sistah CF.

Something my collaborators/models enjoyed about this project was the fact that being pretty was not the point. It wasn't about how you looked, but how you told a story. If you saw the show, you might remember the image of the woman in black in the pew with the oars or the lady in the hay.

These photos are narratives, photos planted in story and place and time and memory. To me, the series became small theatre pieces. I tried not to overdue it. I didn't want to clobber that point home. But I did aim for loose associations, loose lighting and low tech options on the lens.

Anyway, post performance is a trip. All that work floating around out there. Makes me a little shaky excited and birdish. But, I'm loving hearing some cool stories from people who attended the show.  I love when one story leads to another. I suppose as a reader and lit girl my whole life, I believe stories are windows; you can see out and in at the same time.

Final note in this little ramble: the lamp in this image is from my childhood home. Walk in the front door and there, at the end of the hallway, stood this bony  iron lamp, stolen, it seems, from the set of Oliver Twist. I love the blue light, the cool wintry light. I needed it near me on stage, the night I let all that stuff take flight into the great wide open.