Exhibitions

Roberta Neidigh grew up on a farm in the rural Midwest. Her current work “explores the ways in which we cultivate our public and private spaces”. Her exhibition Property Line looks at the visual dialogue between two plots of suburban land: “This point of contact,
on the property line, reveals communication between neighbors through landscape as
an extension of the self. There is no margin here. Are we connected or divided by the
place our land touches the land of another? How is this line drawn? In this body of
work, I explore the way we protect our boundaries by creating a buffer in a place that
has none, and how we cling more strongly to our own identity as our space nears
its edge. “

Property Line is part of the Griffin’s Home Views exhibition. You can find Roberta’s work on the walls of our Main gallery until December 5th. We asked Roberta some questions about her inspirations and artistic processes, and here is what she had to say:

1. Tell us how you first connected to the Griffin Museum.

© Roberta Neidigh

Property Line was juried into the Brooklyn and Boston Fence exhibition Paula Tognarelli was one of the judges. I was then able to meet her in person at the Center Santa Fe portfolio review. I had been aware of the Griffin Museum but after meeting with Paula, I followed it more closely.

2. How do you involve photography in your everyday life? Can you tell us about any images or artists that have caught your attention recently?

Recently I enjoyed reading and viewing Aline Smithson’s piece in Lenscratch on Douglas Stockdale’s work, “Middle Ground”. I was taken with his ability to see something new in the landscape while he was trapped in bumper to bumper traffic.

On a daily basis I am recording, making images of what I encounter and using these studies to further understand what it is about the person, place or thing that resonates with me.

It is a daily practice.

3. Please tell us a little about your series Property Line, and how it was conceived.

© Roberta Neidigh

My interest in this project began close to my home while I was on walks. Soon I began scoping out other neighborhoods by car, and if I found an interesting pattern of expression or a sense of inherited design in the choice of house color or method of grooming the landscape, I would park and walk the streets. That is when the compositions started to reveal themselves.

These designs seem like a reflection of the owners’ identity, often in a charming or humorous way, and I began to see property lines as quiet visual punctuation between the statements made by each homeowner. I’d driven by many of these homes near my own for years, not really seeing them and their borders until I started exploring on foot. I discovered that we tend to edit out the property line when we observe suburban landscapes; we’re focused on our own space, mostly ignoring the place it intersects with another. Because of this, I’ve found great delight in discovering what goes mostly unseen despite being in plain sight.

My background in the fiber arts definitely influences how I see. The groomed, well cultivated landscapes I’m drawn to are made of careful arrangements of color, texture, and pattern. Where things get really interesting is when these patterns collide in the property line space. I think of the images as portraits — of place, community, and of the residents themselves.

The public self we project in our own property is often carefully cultivated, but we don’t spend nearly as much time considering how it touches our neighbor’s yard. We don’t really scrutinize the property line, and by giving it less consideration, we allow for unexpected — and often humorous — interactions to take place.

4. Has there been a Griffin Museum exhibition that has particularly engaged or moved you?

I would say most recently, “Spirit: Focus on Indigenous Art, Artists and Issues”, and “Balancing Cultures”, Jerry Takigawa

5. What is your favorite place to escape to?

© Roberta Neidigh

Either the California coast or my own garden, immersing myself in the open air surrounded with my favorite plants feeds my soul. In fact I’m sitting on the protected terrace now with the heater during our first major rain storm of the season. I love experiencing a good drenching rain after so much drought. The colors and textures of my cactus and succulents with the quality of light and rain is intoxicating!

6. What is a book, song or visual obsession you have at the moment?

© Roberta Neidigh

I’m very interested in how we use our own outdoor spaces, no matter how small or large. In California we are facing extreme weather conditions with drought and fires taking place. For my own space I am focusing on a hybrid type of planting, drought tolerant succulents and cacti combined with California natives. There is so much to know about the land, plants, insects and wildlife and how they are all interdependent. It keeps me intellectually stimulated while engaging in physicality. It’s a perfect marriage for me. I also use photography to help me explore this environment and all it’s magical secrets.

The work of Entomologist Doug Tallamy, “Homegrown NationalPark”, is of great interest to me. It’s an initiative to create conservation corridors that provide wildlife habitats on private property across the U.S. with a goal of 20 million acres of native planting in the U.S., which represents approximately ½ of the green lawns of privately-owned properties.

And the work of artist Fritz Haeg and his book, “Edible Estates: Attack On The Front Lawn.”

The idea of restructuring the concept of the front lawn.

After working on Wall Street for more than 25 years, Ira Wagner began studying photography in 2008, with specific focus on the urban landscape. Currently the Executive Director of the Montclair Art Museum in Montclair, NJ, Ira has been evolving his photographic practice through various projects including Superior Apartments and Houseraising. Featured in our Home Views exhibition, Ira’s interest in urban history and design marks his Twinhouses of the Great Northeast as a powerful addition to the show. Exploring themes of a common border, the American Dream, and the human inclination to mark and delineate one’s space, Ira’s series is a must see. To learn more from Ira about his art-making practice and source of inspiration, we asked him a few questions.

Tell us how you first connected to the Griffin Museum.

I connected with the Griffin Museum through meeting Paula at Review Santa Fe in 2019.   She is a wonderful and responsive reviewer and it was a pleasure to speak with her.  I was thrilled that she had an immediate response to my project and wanted to include it in an exhibition at the Griffin.

How do you involve photography in your everyday life? Can you tell us about any images or artists that have caught your attention recently?

Photography has been very important to me since I retired from Wall Street in 2008.  Actually, I had been interested in photography since I was young.  I delivered the newspaper in junior high school and saved my nickel and dime tips and bought my first camera.  But after retiring, I began classes at ICP in New York which led me to get an MFA degree in the Limited Residency Program at the University of Hartford, graduating in 2013.  From there, I continued working on my own projects and also taught at Monmouth University.  At the same time, I made frequent expeditions as part of my exploration of the urban landscape.   Since Covid, staying closer to home, I’ve focused on frequent walks in the woods in my neighborhood.  My experience with photography also led me to my current position as the Executive Director of the Montclair Art Museum.  Through that, I recently had the experience of looking through a large archive of prints by Joel Meyrowitz which was being offered to us as a donation – it was an incredible experience.  I’ve also been able to participate in acquisitions of photographs for the Museum’s collection.

Please tell us a little about your series, Twinhouses of the Great Northeast and how it was conceived.

I was photographing in Philadelphia as part of an exploration of the area around the Northeast Corridor rail line between New York and Washington and wandered into Northeast Philadelphia, also known as the Great Northeast.  I noticed the twinhouse structures and how each side had slight variations; I was particularly struck by one where the lawn was carefully mowed on one side but overgrown on the other.  As someone who is interested in urban history and development I began to look further into this area and this type of housing and found that it was a common form of housing built for people moving out of center city Philadelphia.  It became clear that these houses were built over an extended period of time, some pre-WW II and all the way through the 1970s.  They had varying materials, sizes and architectural styles.  I made numerous trips to the area and walked around many different neighborhoods, noticing the distinguishing characteristics of each.  I looked for the best examples of how one side contrasted with the other.  Some of my favorites include one where the entire front yard of the house is blocked by a tall hedge while on the other side, the front yard has a patio table, umbrella and chairs.  In another, a huge motorboat is parked in one of the driveways.  How people demarcate their own space is an underlying theme of this work.

Has there been a Griffin Museum exhibition that has particularly engaged or moved you?

I quite like the current exhibition A Place I Never Knew by Tira Khan.  The images create a compelling portrait of a place in which few travelers would stop.   I feel connected to that urge to photograph places like that.  I had one opportunity to travel to India and would love to spend more time photographing there.  I spent one day photographing art deco apartment buildings in Mumbai – a surprising find.  For my MFA thesis, I included art deco buildings on the Grand Concourse in the Bronx, another place that not many travelers explore!

What is your favorite place to escape to?

I don’t really have a favorite single place to escape to.  Instead, my escape is traveling some place new and getting to explore.  I like getting beyond the sights that most travelers see and find a place off the beaten track that feels like I’ve discovered the essence of the location; then I love capturing it with a photograph.

What is a book, song or visual obsession you have at the moment?

Visually, I love ruins of any sort.  I recently acquired the book Ruins by Koudelka which I frequently return to.  I also love the work of German photographer Ursula Schulz-Dornburg.  She has several projects focusing on ruins in the Middle East and Asia; one I particularly like is a series of photographs of a rail line built by the Germans in Saudi Arabia.   A few years ago, I used a grant from the New Jersey State Arts Council to visit the Anasazi ruins at Chaco Canyon in New Mexico.  Although it is a National Park Service site, it is quite remote with no food or services; the road to the site is unpaved.  I stayed in a rented RV and got to explore and photograph for several days – it was truly magical.

If you could be in a room with anyone to have a conversation, who would it be and what would you talk about?

I would love to have had the opportunity to meet and study with the Bechers.  It was exciting for me when I first learned about their work and then all the photographers that learned from them, including one of my favorites, Elger Esser.

“The series Places I Never Lived is an exploration of the way that people put their mark on the world. While photographing the facade of each house in a sleuth-like fashion, I fantasize about who lives there and what life is like on the inside. It is not spying or voyeurism. It is about imagining my life in a different place.”

Joy Bush is a fine arts photographer based in Hamden, CT. She finds that she is drawn to photographing the echoes of the presence of people rather than people themselves. Her series Places I Never Lived will be exhibited in the Main gallery as part of the Griffin’s Home Views Exhibition until December 5th. We asked Joy a few questions to get a feel of her artistic process and inspirations, and we are excited to share the answers she gave us. 

Tell us how you first connected to the Griffin Museum.

The Griffin Museum was off my radar until an art critic in my home state of Connecticut asked me what I knew about the museum. From that time forward, I stayed on top of what was going on there. Although I don’t make frequent trips given its distance from my home, I watch what is happening there and have been a member for many years.

How do you involve photography in your everyday life? Can you tell us about any images or artists that have caught your attention recently?

I always have my camera or my phone with me so that I can document an image. It is my

© Joy Bush

practice to make a photograph every day. On my daily walks I find images that grab my attention. It’s a way of recording my life, paying attention to those things that most of us overlook, giving things a chance to be seen. This is very different from simply going out and shooting randomly. I post a daily picture to Instagram: it is a practice that keeps me aware of the world as well as a game that appeases the frustrated writer in me. Putting a title to the work
demands that I be more thoughtful about what I am doing and stretches my imagination, bringing humor and insight to the picture. Combining the images with words feels like a meditative process.

I would be hard put to name all the artists who have attracted my attention. I find them mostly on Instagram and especially through #flakphoto (Andy Adams does an amazing job of posting images of photographers). There are images that seem similar to mine and so many that aren’t. It is a great network to open your eyes to other people’s vision. Lenscratch also is a place that does an excellent job of introducing photographers to each other. A plus side of the pandemic was having access to online exhibitions and seeing the work of photographers I might have otherwise missed.

Please tell us a little about your series Places I Never Lived, and how it was conceived.

© Joy Bush

The series is an exploration of the way that people put their mark on the world. While photographing the facade of each house in a covert fashion, I fantasize about who lives there and what life is like on the inside. It is not spying or voyeurism. It is about imagining my life in a different place. At the same time what draws me to these places is the echo of a human presence, even though people themselves are absent. Inevitably, a barrier exists between each house and me. Carefully groomed landscaping and fencing can block my way as completely as a cluster of trees or untrimmed hedges. This, however, only adds to the seductiveness of the place. And that only reinforces my questions: Who lives in these houses? And who would I be if I lived there?

How the series was conceived is not as simple as what I have written. It evolved from a long series of coincidences. Over many years I did a number of images of peoples’ yards paying particular attention to the landscaping. Then I started paying attention just to the shrubbery. Then to pools—in ground, above ground, children’s pools. And this was not simply a record-taking exercise; I made pictures. One day, on a walk with a friend, I saw this house that had a huge hedge around it, so tall, in fact, that all I could see from the street were two chimneys..and my heart took a leap. I knew then that a new series or direction was opening up to me. While the house is a facade, it suggests a story to me. And while I am photographing, the story more often than not begins “once upon a time.” These are real places but they transform into imaginary ones for me because I have no factual details on those people who live there.

Has there been a Griffin Museum exhibition that has particularly engaged or moved you?

I have not been to many exhibitions in person. I was delighted to see the Griffin exhibited
Isa Leshko’s “Allowed to Grow Old. I have been involved in animal rights for over 30 years
and was impressed and moved that the Griffin was giving exposure to this topic while not
compromising an aesthetic sense. While I did not see “False Food” by Jerry Takigawa in
person, I’ve been able to follow what he does to draw attention to social and environmental
issues in a completely compelling way. Again, that was an important issue that the Griffin did
not shy away from. Recently, I was able to see Lou Jones “distressed:memories.” The
mystery and fantasy work as visual realities was fascinating and multilayered.

What is your favorite place to escape to?

A tough question because the two places that come up for me are so completely

© Joy Bush

different. New York City, absolutely. I never get tired of the city. Physically or visually or sensory wise. And the ocean..or any place near the water. The calm and the serenity. Just recently I came back from a brief trip to Maine. It was early morning and I was walking and photographing water and clouds. I turned in a circle and it felt like I was inside one of those snow globes. Three hundred and sixty degrees all around me…very few cottage or trees breaking the horizon. And I remembered hearing Sam Abell talk about a photo while he was on assignment for the National Geographic and how he spent a great deal of time getting a shot at sunset, paying attention to the setting first and then waiting for the subject. After he made his photo, he turned around and saw, as I recall the story, elephants walking across the horizon, and that was the photo that was used for publication. What I took away from this was that after making a picture, turn around, there is another, and often better, photo behind you. (No elephants on this trip—or ever—but always a picture.)

What is a book, song or visual obsession you have at the moment?

I wish I had an answer for this and am forcing myself to find something to write here. I
found it difficult to stay focused on reading anything other than mysteries this last year and a
half— and even that was hard for me. A song: anything by the Beatles. My friend, the folk
singer, Lara Herscovitch’s “Wingspan” keeps me moving along as does the sound of MaMuse’s
“Glorious.” Visually, well, whatever is in front of me.

If you could be in a room with anyone to have a conversation, who would it be and what would you talk about?

© Joy Bush

Teju Cole. I started reading his work about photography in the New York Times years
back, and I follow his books closely. I like the way his words and images work together. While I
don’t think of myself as a talker, I would want to talk about his take on words and images used
together or near each other. I want to know what he thinks about, how he approaches his world,
how he integrates what he knows about other photographers and artists and writers and how
they influence the way he interprets his world.
Mostly, though, I think it would also be nice to just be in his presence. And be quiet. I would learn a lot.