Who is the hardest working photographer, curator, writer, editor, educator, mentor, juggler, community builder, wife, mother, and friend? My vote will always go to Aline Smithson. Needless to say, I am a big fan of her photography and a witness to the results of her teaching and mentoring efforts for photographers all over the world.
As I tell the story, I met Aline through a photograph of her mother that hung in a frame on the Griffin’s walls during our 12th Juried Exhibition in 2006. The photograph was chosen by juror Bonni Benrubi. It was called “Arrangement in Green & Black (Portrait of the Photographer’s Mother) No. 10.” I would visit that photograph every day throughout the exhibition and admired it, plotting how I would save to make it my own. That never happened as I shared my plan with no one and one day it was wrapped up and returned to its rightful owner.
What struck me most about this photograph was its very wry wit. As I fancy myself as a bit of a comedian, I respect and recognize those who see the world through the lens and sparkle of humor. Smithson’s references to James McNeill Whistler’s own painted mother are apparent in the title of the image and stance of the subject. “The Photographer’s Mother” sits in a wooden straight-back chair breaking bread and wine from a tiny TV stand underneath a print of da Vinci’s “Last Supper”. The elements within this one frame all reference Whistler but are presented in twists and turns that are all Smithson’s own.
If you know Aline Smithson, you know she would rather not have her photograph taken. In this series her wish for anonymity remains. She stops short of naming her series “Smithson’s Mother.” Aline’s mom, on the other hand, is not at all camera-shy in any of the photographs from this series. The bond between mother and daughter comes through in their “arrangement”. Mother and daughter are both contributors and collaborators. And what fun the experience seems to be for both. And this is why we chose “Arrangement in Green & Black (Portrait of the Photographer’s Mother) to highlight today.
Mother’s Day began as a tribute to mothers who had lost sons and spouses to the Civil War. It continues now as a day of gratitude for moms everywhere. If only we could make every day a day of gratitude. It’s what moms would want.
Below you will find Crista Dix’s interview with Aline Smithson. Crista is the Associate Director of the Griffin Museum of Photography.
Paula Tognarelli
Executive Director and Curator
Griffin Museum of Photography
Aline Smithson has arguably one of the most visible mothers in photography. Creating her own version of James Whistler’s Portrait of the Artist’s Mother, she created an iconic photographic series bringing humor, life and poignancy to her own bond with her mother. See a description of one of Smithson’s exhibits on the Griffin Museum’s website.
What did she think of this series when you approached her with the idea? What did she think about being your model?
Arrangement in Green & Black, Portraits of the Photographers Mother No. 18 © Aline Smithson
My mother was always incredibly supportive. She was totally game, as it allowed more time for us to be together. It was a profound experience as my mother was in decline and it shifted our conversations from heath and end-of-life, to art. The series took 2 years and we were able to create 21 images before she passed away. She never saw the photographs hand-painted and she never shared in its successes, at least in this life. It’s a wonderful treasure for me to have this project to remember that special time we had together.
I remember her asking me why anyone would be interested in this work—I stated I didn’t really care what anyone thought–that wasn’t the point of the work. That sense of freedom in art making has always been part of my practice.
What was her favorite image of the series?
Arrangement in Green & Black, Portraits of the Photographers Mother No. 2 ©Aline Smithson
I honestly don’t know, but my favorite image does not show up in the series.
She was dressed in a kimono with a parasol and kept laughing. I kept telling her that she had to be serious until finally I understood what was making her laugh. She was quietly giving me the finger. I managed to get one frame of that gesture before we got back to work.
How was your relationship before the series and how did it change during the shooting process?
I don’t think it changed our relationship, but it allowed us time together, just the two of us without all the distractions of motherhood and life. I feel so grateful to have that time, filled with fun and laughter, for us to collaborate at the end of her life.
How was she as a collaborator?
Arrangement in Green & Black, Portraits of the Photographers Mother – No. 10 © Aline Smithson
My mother was elegant and formal to the outside world, but behind the closed doors of our home, she had a wicked sense of humor and fun, as did my father. They both used humor throughout our lives to keep it interesting. One annual event was on April Fool’s Day which was deemed Sloppy Joe Night. My mother would present food in weird colors and combinations and we were allowed to have terrible table manners–eating with our feet or upside down–all which resulted in great hilarity.
So with this legacy of humor in our household, it made her a fabulous collaborator. She wanted to be a bit more dramatic, but unfortunately had to reign her in! She was game for anything.
This series was the catalyst to many opportunities and opened many doors for you. It continues to be an iconic, beloved and long-lived series. What do you think is the reason it resonates with so many?
This project has truly been shown around the globe—Russia, China, Korea, Europe, and the U.S. Many gallerists and directors have told me how wonderful it was to have an exhibition where they could hear people laughing. Humor is so lacking in the photography world. And what could be a more universal theme that making fun of one’s mother.
Another gift of this series is that when someone purchases a print, I spend time hand-painting it and that allows me to go back in time with my mother. As I paint her face and hands, I feel re-connected to her.
You also have a series with both of your children. How do they feel about working with their Mother? Did they know their Grandmother? Were they able to see the two of you work together?
Shaq – Taylor Wessing Prize nominee, 2019
A few years back, my daughter was visiting a friend of a friend in New York and saw a copy of PDN on their coffee table–the issue where my photograph was on the cover and she was the model. She said to the friend, “Oh, that’s my mother’s photograph” instead of saying, “that’s a photograph of me.” I think my children have always separated themselves from the work and see it as my version of reality that they have participated in. They were, and are, in front of my camera so much that it was as normal as brushing their teeth. They both still are wonderful collaborators. I am truly so grateful to them.
Two Generations © Aline Smithson
My children were 11 and 14 when she passed so they did get to know her. She was a devoted grandmother. I was also working on another hand-painted series at the same time where my daughter and mother worked together. Both of my children have been part of my art making since they were tiny and witnessing me create this series with my mom was just part of everyday life. They certainly enjoyed some of the costumes and props that I was acquiring—and my dog even got in on project.
You say your greatest achievements are your two children, Charlotte and Henry. What are your favorite images of them?
From Left to Right – Hotel Fiorita, from series Daughter & Cuppa, from series Regarding Henry
There is no way I can answer that. Each photograph reveals a moment in time, an age, a stage – all have equal importance and they are all my favorites. In fact, I treasure them more than any possession I own.
From Left to Right, Henry with Tangerines, from series Regarding Henry & Roman Bed, from Daughter
You now have one of America’s (and the world’s) most famous mothers. She wanted you to be a dental hygienist. Do you think she changed her mind after seeing the series?
Fur © Aline Smithson
Ha! That’s true. She wanted me to have a secure future and being an artist was certainly not that. But she has always supported me. She was really proud of my achievements as a fashion editor and that continued into my art making. That project was towards the beginning of my career so she didn’t get to see my work out into the world.
You showed Arrangements in Green and Black (AGB) at the Griffin in 2010 and then had a mid-career retrospective including AGB in 2016. What was that experience like, seeing your work on the Griffin walls?
Self & Others © Aline Smithson
Anyone walking into the beautiful Griffin Museum space and seeing their work on the wall is a heady experience. But walking in and seeing your own work, your journey as a photographer shown on ALL the walls of the museum, is other-worldly and an out-of-body phenomenon. Honestly it was hard to wrap my head around such an honor.
It’s interesting that we all chase success and when it comes, it’s not what one expects. It’s embarrassing and humbling. It challenges your psyche, brings self-doubt and creates a bit of imposter syndrome—at least for me.
That saying, I was blown away with the layout and presentation of the exhibition, the beautiful orange wall that welcomed visitors into the show, the banners with my work outside of the museum—it was all magic. I feel so lucky and grateful to have had the support of the institution and the community that surrounds it. Truly one of the career-defining moments of my life.
Thank you Aline, for your creativity, sharing your Mother with us, and for being such a tremendous part of the Griffin legacy.
To see Aline’s personal work visit her website at Aline Smithson. To see more of the community of photographers Aline nurtures and supports, visit Lenscratch for a daily dose of creativity and inclusion in all things photo.
The idea for my book came from several years ago when I was pondering ways to visualize questions about the believability of photographs and their presentation of the “truth”. It occurred to me to create my own sets with tiny actors and light them and photograph them depicting scenes that might have happened or could happen and that were narratively suggestive, but not singular stories- the scenes could be interpreted in multiple ways, though they almost always suggested that something “bad” had happened or was going to happen. I additionally shot my own large background photographs from real world views and blended my fake world and real world parts together visually through lighting. So, the work presents real still life objects in a false scenario against reproduced backgrounds of actual landscapes, lit in a studio, digitally recorded and presented as archivally printed transparencies in led backlit frames- multilayers of real and unreal, or true and false. When I created enough of the pieces for a series, I of course, thought of presenting them together as a book- the book form of course, makes it easier to show the work rather than hauling around light boxes, but there is something certainly missing when looking at the images on a page versus lit up on a wall. So, I included a view of several pieces lit up and installed on a wall as the first image in the book.
To answer the question about what I would want viewers to think about, I will take a few bits from my book’s introduction– The Constructed Scenarios series was created to involve viewers in the act of photographic analysis. The work walks a path between staged setup and photographically real representation. They are intentionally created to engage viewers into their invented narratives- the tableaus are specific enough to be familiar, but not so realistic as to be convincing illusions. These images are both story and still life, photographic reality and theatrical performance, small scale illusion and real world mimic. They present semi-factual information requiring analysis of their elements and an engaged interpretive skill- abilities that are sincerely needed to consider the truth in our vast image and information environments.
What would you like us as viewers to take away from your after seeing your work and words?
…I am very much influenced by various ‘ painting movements.’ ( Surrealism.
The images have not been manipulated. Everything is as seen through the viewfinder.
After seeing my book, I would like readers to feel compassionate and connected – to others on the autism spectrum and to one another. We all have some of the traits of autism, and it is through these commonalities (and hopefully through my work as well) that we can connect. I want people to have a more nuanced view of autism – not solely as a disability but as a gift as well.
These Years Gone By… is a love story told through my grandparents letters from World War II. Shortly after my grandmother’s death in 2008, my mother discovered about 300 letters that my grandparents had written to each other during World War II. They had been kept by my grandmother for over 60 years and inherited by my mother. These letters provided a new insight for my family into the lives of my grandparents during this critical time in world history. From these letters, artifacts and old family photos, I have woven together a narrative that tells the story of this challenging time in their personal history.
This project is more of a curatorial effort through family history with artifacts and old family photos. While this project is narrative driven and embraces my interest in family and world history my other work is slightly different.
My photography has always focused on images of the stuff of daily life ordinarily passed by or kept at the periphery. This approach was named ‘something and nothing’ by Charlotte Cotton in 2009 in her book ‘the photograph as contemporary art.’ These images interrogate the intimate cycles of identity, self-preservation and mortality.
Mike Callaghan’s work focuses on fragmentation, rearrangement and reinterpretation while considering the intimate cycles of identity, preservation and mortality. Mike interrogates the subtlety of gesture and the subtlety of difference in a moment when frameworks of relationships are at once prominently visible and exhaustively hidden.
My father was a superb fine art photographer. In 1999, he and I published a book together about his life’s work. The book, Reflections, consisted of 100 of his photographs and six interviews that I did with him about his aesthetic and his process. Writing the book together was an intimate and extraordinary experience. I learned so much about the life of an artist.
When my Dad died and the sun went out. I felt the night sky open to infinity, icily reaching away from me in emptiness. For two years, nothing could console me for his loss. But then I took up my camera again. Without any conscious purpose, I began to photograph at night. At first, my photos were mostly black, sometimes with a tiny dot of the moon in the far distance. But, in time, more points of light crept in. Increasingly, I became more interested in finding light than in recording darkness. The dark of night became a space with the potential for illumination, for complexity, for life and liveliness, even for warmth.
What was the inspiration for the book project?
Artist Statement As a child I spent many hours roaming the maze of rooms in my father’s furniture store. The shapes that filled these make-believe spaces, 1960’s reproductions of ‘Early American’ furniture became imprinted in my consciousness. Without realizing it I committed these shapes to memory.
Interestingly enough, I found that in all the images I shot for Notes in Passing, there was only one that contained a person, & even then, the person was far away & very blurry.
Some of the folks I approached declined my request, but over 750 acquiesced with kindness, support & good humor. Some also shared bits of information about themselves. All revealed the strength, diversity & uniqueness of the community I call home. They taught me that assuming anything about someone merely from how they look can be a sad mistake & that there is a universality in the challenges that life throws our way.
Artist Statement: When my mom, who had Alzheimer’s, died, I stored the possessions of hers that were hardest to part with in my attic, which also holds the remnants of my own past lives. “The Attic” is my effort to record and honor the people, places and influences represented by all that I’ve stashed on that echoey top floor.
She has shown her photography throughout the U.S. in solo & juried exhibitions, including winning one of four WorkingArtist.org photography awards in 2018 as well as first prize in Soho Photo Gallery’s 2019 Annual Juried Exhibition. Four books of her work have been published: She Began to Realize (funded in part by the NEA), The View From Here, Radius: One Year Five Miles, & The Attic.
Where did the idea for the book come from?
Artist Statement: Hāfu2Hāfu is an ongoing worldwide photography project exploring what it means to be hāfu – a person with one Japanese parent. Japanese-Belgian photographer Tetsuro Miyazaki has interviewed and portrayed fellow Japanese hāfu, with a parent from nearly 100 different countries. The 120 people in this book do not answer questions but ask them: each hāfu poses a question to you, the viewer. With these questions, Hāfu2Hāfu is creating dialogue and stimulates self-reflection about identity, so that we can find answers of our own.
In the late 1960’s in now defunct Swiss magazine Camera I became aware of the work of W. Eugene Smith, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Brassaï, Eugene Atgét and others. I was blown away by their artful, straightforward, humane way of making a story telling photograph.
I’ve photographed for publications, book, corporate, industrial, health care, education and non-profit foundations. From oil rig workers in the Gulf of Mexico to corporate executives to river rafting blind teenagers to artists in China. Many other people and situations, including for myself.
After World War II the city exploded outward leaving behind unwanted remnants of a past city. People moved from the city proper to growing suburbs. With the arrival of shopping malls began the creeping neglect of downtown. By the 1970’s, in its last hurrah, old time downtown was a twinkle in the eye of developers. Although still a lively shopping neighborhood for many that lived in and around the inner-city.
I am a veterinarian, and probably because of this, I always have had an interest in wildlife photography. In 2006 I was fortunate to be able to photograph the “Critically Endangered” mountain gorillas in the Bwindi Impenetrable National Park, a dense forest in southwest Uganda. I entered the forest from Buhoma, a village near one of the entrance gates. During that same trip I met some Batwa Pygmies, ancient hunter-gatherers who had lived traditional lifestyles for millennia in the same forest. They then resided in Buhoma, and were said by the tour guide to be happy not to be living in the forest any longer. This was belied by their demeanor and living circumstances.
I had read about the conflict between animal protection and the Maasai in Tanzania, which had a similar impact on that tribe of people. And after meeting the Batwa in 2006, I wanted to learn more about them, show and tell the story of these diminutive people, and the impact on them of the eviction. I had the opportunity to do so when I returned to Uganda in 2017. I once again photographed the mountain gorillas but I also had had meetings set up with the Batwa; I interviewed nine of them, who gave accounts of their previous way of life, told a story derived from their ancient and rich oral history, and reported the impact the eviction has had on their lives and culture. The concept behind my approach is that the story of a people is best told by compiling stories of individuals, rather than reporting a summary. Photographs of the Batwa were acquired during the interviews, and as they demonstrated how they previously had existed in the forest. These images and narratives document both sides of the thorny question of how best to protect endangered wild animals. On the one hand, the population of mountain gorillas has increased associated with their protection. They remain “Endangered,” but are no longer considered “Critically Endangered.” On the other hand, this has come at great expense to the Batwa Pygmies.
I wish the reader to meet, see and learn about the Batwa Pygmies. I also wish them to meet the gorillas, and appreciate the need to protect endangered animal species. But they should coe to understand that in the process of protecting the animals, the people to be affected by animal protection, who often are of an indigenous culture, must be considered at least as carefully and well as non-human animals – both are precious. The reader should please know that 100% of the money from sales of the book, through either the publisher (
In December 2017, we again visited Uganda. The primary reason was to attend Amos’s graduation from the International Health Sciences University in Kampala, the Ugandan capital, with a Bachelor of Science in Nursing. Amos told us that he was the first person in his village to attain a BS degree. He now is doing an internship in Kampala and is pursuing an MS degree in public health – in his internship he now is on the front line of fighting the Covid19 epidemic there. Denis finished his nursing certificate recently, and now has opened a clinic for the poor in Buhoma. He is waiting for the epidemic to hit there. It is noteworthy that gorillas are susceptible to coronaviruses, so this pandemic could be devastating both the people and the gorillas.
Flora and Fauna evolved from my 2016 solo exhibition of found photographic compositions of dead birds, fish, insects, industrial debris and hospital waste found in the Gowanus Canal. I moved the project into my studio to have more control over staged lighting and composition of Post-Mortem Portraits.I wanted the viewer to embrace a heightened celebration of death as the force that makes life most mysterious and compelling by staging dead creatures and natural beauty through a fairly indirect and palatable metaphor. The series is inspired by Surrealism, 17th Century Dutch and Flemish painting and Victorian Post-Mortem Photography.
People of the Scorched Earth is a collection of fictional photographic landscapes created in response to the recent manifestations of and climate change including extreme fires, floods and monster storms around the world. It’s a series about grief and horror presented in a seductive, fantastical storybook landscapes scenes from the future and the past. My intention was to induce a state of psychological conflict somewhere between destructive impulses and denial, rationalizations and magical thinking and power of healing and resilience in the natural world.
What is your next project? – 
I live in a small town, at least spatially, in Greater Boston. The town is five and a half square miles with 42,000 residents and an abundance of tiny, often unseen critters lurking in its yards—yards measured in square feet, not acres. With a couple of chairs and a few flowers, a small suburban oasis was created on the patio. But those wasps…and these tiny spiders that seem to jump into thin air? What else is living around me?
My main inspiration for this book project came from seeing the incredible jungle-covered ruins of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. Being surrounded by these ancient structures of a lost kingdom that have been completely reclaimed by the natural environment was a very powerful experience. After researching literature such as 
I wanted to take this concept and visualize it in a contemporary sense because we are facing many of the same problems as these ancient civilizations, but on a much larger scale. 
The idea for Imperfect came from a series of images I had stored away and labeled “failed photographs”. They were images I thought had something wrong with each, yet I still was very drawn to the feeling of them so I decided to make the series into a book.
I am mainly focused on an extensive book project of my series Exist that I started in 2011, which I hope to be published as a larger run hard cover book eventually. I am also in the midst of releasing a group photography zine with my publishing partner, Grace Tyson at Goldenrod Editions (a small publishing company we started last year), where we have included almost 70 artists. We also plan to release more of our own work as small run artist books down the line!
Living here in coastal Maine we get some pretty amazing fog. And being outdoors in the fog is so much fun, because your mind starts playing tricks on you. We can always “see” something hidden in the fog, whether it is there or not. Not all the images in the book are from Maine, photographing in fog has long been a personal favorite.
Well I was going to be taking several bookmaking classes this spring and summer, I hope that at least some of them are able to happen. I wanted to put together a small book on the Olson House (the house made famous by Andrew Wyeth’s painting Christina’s World). While access to the house had been fairly open and easy for a long time, it is now no longer possible to photograph inside and you now need to be on a museum tour to get into the house. I am hoping to be able to create Photo Gravures of my images and make them into a book.
The day I moved to a desert as a teenager, someone welcoming me to the area said, “Look how big the sky is!” I became intrigued with how landscapes that are void of most vegetation can strikingly portray the illusion of vast spaciousness, as well as allow for a direct experience with the raw forms, colors and surfaces that might otherwise be obscured by grass, moss, or trees.