Continuing our series of interviews with the artists from our annual public outdoor exhibition, Vision(ary), today we talk to Ellen Mitchell about her project, Benches of Seaside Heights. MItchell’s candid photographs document the town’s visitors, capture intriguing and humurous vignettes of human behavior, and reflect back to us the deployment of our beliefs, customs and ideologies in public space.
An interview with the artist follows.
Ellen Mitchell is an alien whose life took an unexpected turn when she was dropped from a spaceship into the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. Arriving at the New Jersey Shore on a bed of seaweed, she came face to face with the human race and has tried to hide behind a camera ever since. Her photos take an often-humorous look at the peculiarities of earthly existence, serving as a silent testament to her unique extraterrestrial perspective. Her work has been exhibited in New York, Philadelphia, and Italy, and has been published in The Guardian, Lensculture, and American Illustration – American Photography (AI-AP). She has received awards from Lensculture, the New York Center for Photographic Art, and Los Angeles Center of Photography (LACP).
Website: www.ellenmitchell.photography
Instagram: @i.ellen.m
Twitter: @i_ellen_m
You’ve lived your whole life in Jersey Shore. How has this place influenced your often-humorous approach documenting “the quirks and drama of everyday life”?
Connection with place has always been important to me. In particular, my connection to the Jersey Shore – my home – has always been very strong. While I’ve photographed during travels, I’ve mostly returned to places with which I have some history, like Seaside Heights. Seaside is both a place and an idea to me, something half-real, half-imagined. A place I can tell a story about, rather than just document, or try to depict aesthetically.
When I first started to work at Seaside, I didn’t have an idea of the kind of pictures I wanted to make, but I did know what interested me about the place – the diverse crowds, the architecture, the dichotomy between a very economically depressed populace (it’s consistently ranked as one of the poorest towns per capita in the state) and a vibrant beach resort. I think that, as a local, I can pick out a lot of small details that show what is interesting about the town – at the same time, I probably miss a lot because I’m so used to seeing it that I’ve become blind to it, in a way.
What initially sparked your interest in capturing human behavior through photography? And has your practice led to any shifts in your own perspectives on social dynamics?
I’ve always enjoyed Seaside’s spunkiness, even though some of the rougher behavior is a bit off-putting to me. I wanted to photograph some of the most colorful characters – not only because I thought they’d make compelling subjects, but because to me, they embody Seaside’s happy/scary chaos. My work is actually very much about place – even in this series, in which people are front and center, Seaside is as much a subject as the people themselves.
Through this project, I’ve become much more aware of right-leaning political thought in my region. My photos serve up a preponderance of stridently pro-Trump t-shirt slogans (I have never seen a pro-Hillary, pro-Biden, or pro-Kamala t-shirt in Seaside). While I’ve known for years that my county is the most conservative county in NJ, I hadn’t appreciated how prevalent both conservatism and anti-left sentiment had become in my own local community in the middle of a blue state.
Take us on a shooting day with you. What does it look like? What should we not forget as your hypothetical assistants?
On bright summer days, I arrive at the boardwalk around 3:30-4PM. My camera is pre-focused, and set to burst mode. I walk at the same pace as the crowd, and take a few quick photos of every single occupied bench, without pausing to stop, think, or try to pick the right moment. I work for as long as the light allows – 5PM in the beginning of the summer when the days are long (after 5PM, my shadow starts to protrude into the frame), and 7PM in late summer, when the light mellows and my shadow shifts to the left. Sometimes I’ll stay afterward to have a bite to eat, and then work on a different project at night. It’s an easy shoot – it requires very little active concentration – but it can be a long, hot, and tiring day.
As a hypothetical assistant, I’m afraid you’d be rather bored! Photography is my quiet time. I almost always go alone. I like to roam about (or walk back and forth in this case) and become lost in thought. It would be more helpful to have someone assist me after the shoot, to straighten, crop, and tease details out of those dreaded white t–shirts! But if I had a companion while shooting, I’d advise them to dress well for the weather, stay hydrated, and of course, wear comfortable shoes.
You mentioned taking candid photos without pausing to select moments. How does this spontaneous approach shape the narrative of your series? Do you believe in getting “the right shot” or is the project led greatly by chance?
I find it much more exciting to take photos spontaneously than to meticulously plan each frame. I like to be surprised when I see the images later on. During the first year of this project, I did actively seek out compelling subjects, often circling back again and again to the same bench. But I also took some quick, almost noncommittal photos of benches that didn’t excite me quite as much. At first glance, the subjects hadn’t seemed very interesting – they were just normal people, engaged in normal activities like eating, conversing, and staring out into space. But that very ordinariness made the photos feel more true and universal to me. Now I purposely try to minimize my own role in determining who or what comes into the frame – I look just enough to ensure that I have a clear shot, but not closely enough to tell, for instance, whether a person is applying deodorant or stretching. I photograph everything, without distinction, and choose the strongest photos later on when editing. I think that in this case, having a spontaneous approach helps the project more authentically represent a certain moment in time. It really does feel as if I (or the viewer) were actually on one of my walks and just happened to look over at a bench at some arbitrary instant.
When photographing people in public settings, how do you navigate ethical considerations regarding privacy and consent?
First, I believe that it’s crucial for candid photos to be taken. If hypothetically I were able to see photos from times before photography existed, of course I’d want to see portraits and documentary work, but I’d also want to see snapshots of everyday life that feel – and are – unscripted and spontaneous, literal snapshots of life as it unfolds. As historical documents, candid ‘street’ photographs have a heightened sense of authenticity and immediacy. So I think it’s very important for those kinds of images to exist.
I don’t really feel like these photographs constitute an invasion of privacy, since the boardwalk is a very crowded public venue – a time-honored place to people-watch. What’s in my photos is exactly what any passer-by would see. Where I struggle more is deciding which photos to publish. For instance, just because someone looks hilarious when photographed mid-yawn or mid-pizza-chew doesn’t mean that I should post it just for the giggle factor, or even that it’s a
good photo. If there’s no additional level of interest, such photos only point out the vagaries of haphazard timing, which (to me) makes them gratuitous and not very interesting. I do sometimes embrace the silliness that appears in my images, but I’m not trying to make fun of anybody. I’ve also hesitated to post photos of obviously intoxicated people. That feels a bit mean. I don’t necessarily disagree with photographers who’d consider the aforementioned images fair game, and I’ve admired some work in that vein by other artists. I just do what feels right to me at the time. I try to be respectful while also keeping the project truthful, informative, and entertaining.
I also think that intention matters. I consider ‘Benches’ to be a project about contemporary life and human behavior. My desire is to depict humanity rather than individual people; parenthood rather than parents, childhood rather than children. I don’t wish to single anybody out as much as I want to illustrate truths and trends.
You mentioned intending to continue this series indefinitely. How do you foresee the project evolving over time? Are there specific themes or changes in the community you hope to document?
I’m not sure how the project will evolve over time, but I look forward to seeing how these photos are perceived when they are decades old. My hope is that ‘Benches’ will be a window in time to be enjoyed by both current and future viewers – a body of work that’s both fun and informative to look at.
I saw the town change a lot in a short time, particularly after Superstorm Sandy, and then again in 2016 (Seaside’s conservatism became rather strident and bombastic post-2016). I realized things would keep changing much more quickly than I realized. And that these changes told a story I did not yet understand but might understand later, with time and perspective. I wanted to document those changes before I was even aware of their significance.
You mentioned that many details in your photos only become apparent during editing. Can you share some memorable surprises or discoveries that have shaped your perception of the project? What is your editing process like?
I work quickly, so I don’t see much at the time of capture. I notice the small details later on, when editing. I feel like facial expressions in particular are important to the success of certain images, and it’s impossible for me to predict how they will appear in a photo (if a subject literally blinks, it can change the entire image). Other small details jump out at me during editing because they tell stories. It feels important (to me) that an elderly woman is wearing a ‘World’s Best Grandma’ t-shirt and a beaded name bracelet made by a child; that a wife is giving her husband a mean side eye; that two proselytizers engaging in an animated discussion are wearing t-shirts that say ‘Why is the world so divided?”; that a big tough muscled man has a huge tattoo of an infant’s head on his right bicep. It’s also interesting to see how many people wear gold cross necklaces, or Yankees baseball caps (a lot!!).
I edit for content – if something in a photo strikes a chord with me, I will keep it. It could be a funny facial expression, a touching moment between parent and child (or husband and wife), a slogan on a t-shirt. Anything that interests me now, or that I think might interest a future viewer – as a human (in the case of facial expressions) or historically (in the case of political t-shirt slogans, or fashion trends).
© Ellen Mitchell
Finally, what advice would you give to emerging photographers who are interested in developing long-term documentary projects?
If you feel strongly drawn to a subject, trust that feeling. Even if you start to doubt that you’re on the right path, continue to make work. Your project might fall into place, or it might not – but even failed photos keep you out on the street – or wherever – honing your skills, and engaging with subject matter that inspires you to create. That will eventually lead you to the work you want to make.
