Guest host Benjamin Richards focuses the lens on four different resident dance photographers: John Lindquist, Stephan Driscoll, Mike van Sleen and Christopher Duggan.
[Music begins, composed by J.S. Bach, performed by Jess Meeker]
Norton Owen: Welcome to PillowVoices, a production of Jacob's Pillow Dance Festival with content from the Pillow Archives. I'm Norton Owen, the Pillow’s Director of Preservation, and it's my pleasure to introduce this episode with host Benjamin Richards. The Archives at Jacob’s Pillow houses numerous dance photo collections which can be accessed onsite in person. Our host today focuses the lens on four generations of dance photographers who have been embedded at Jacob’s Pillow as resident photographers. The images created by these artists are exhibited across our campus, in published books in our archives library, and are available for research preview access online. Richards himself was a valued part of the archives video team at Jacob’s Pillow for numerous seasons and continues with his media and documentation expertise through his production company Ben Rich Film and marketing staff position at The University of Nevada Las Vegas.
Benjamin Richards: Photography at Jacob’s Pillow goes back to its foundational days when Ted Shawn first brought his Men Dancers to his bucolic farm in 1933. I recall seeing prints of the Men Dancers everywhere during my internship at the Pillow in 2010, with stark depictions of these founders building the original structures, and frozen in time dancing in the Tea Garden, rendered in striking geometry as only black and white can deliver. And yet as obvious as a partnership between photography and dance may seem, I often find it simultaneously paradoxical. Dance deals with the journey of bodies in space over time. While photography renders a singular instance, captured over a mere fraction of a second. To explore this peculiar relationship today we will be hearing from four different photographers, each of whom have practiced their craft at the Pillow over a number of years. John Lindquist from 1938 to 1980, Stefan Driscoll from 1979 to 1986, Mike van Sleen from 1999 to 2006, and in my era, Christopher Duggan from 2006 to present day. Of course, there were others, and special mention must be made here of John Van Lund. While no audio exists in the archives for us to listen to today, he took approximately 70,000 photos at the Pillow alongside John Lindquist for over 40 years. When I arrived at the Pillow, photos were everywhere. The history was literally printed on the walls and it made you curious. Photographer Mike van Sleen speaks here during a 2006 PillowTalk about his own experience finding inspiration walking the Pillow grounds.
Mike van Sleen: I was I was really inspired. And I always say this by by all of the, photographs that are on the walls here, because when I was here doing production work, doing the sound engineering, I didn't have a real sense of the history because I was I had just been here maybe 1 or 2 summers, and you get so bogged down in doing today's productions, you don't really think about the history, but every day and all of the studios, credit Norton Owen with this. And with this and all of the studios in different buildings here, you're passing by these old photographs that really told the history visually of Jacob's Pillow and I didn't have enough time or spend much time reading about it. So the images got me interested in the history of it. And then at that time, after I, you know, was working here a few years doing sound, I started to realize and look around that there wasn't really anybody here taking pictures and that there was kind of a void in that. And we would have occasionally people would float through and do a weekend or a week here or there, but no one was truly sort of examining the whole process and working with the artist on making pictures. And, and I was sort of burning out on doing sound and wanted to stay here because I loved it here. And I said, well, what can I do? And so I bought a camera and I said, well, here we go [audience laughs].
Benjamin Richards: I love how Mike van Sleen mentions the history lesson one gets through photographs even for those who haven't studied the chronicle of Jacob’s Pillow. Photography is perhaps the easiest entry point into history. Many of the photos Van Sleen describes seeing on campus were taken by the original resident photographer and champion of the Pillow John Lindquist. Listen now to Lindquist's own story of how he first started photographing at the Pillow from a 1979 documentary titled, John Lindquist: Photographer of the Dance.
[music begins from the original documentary]
John Lindquist: I went to the Berkshires to hear Boston Symphony in ‘38, and when we passed the road at the end of the Jacob's Pillow road, it said, Shawn and his Men Dancers. And I said, Oh, take me up there. So they did. And of course, I had my Leica. And Shawn saw me dodging picture hats, because then there was no raised seat. And he came to me after the performance and said, we're doing the moving picture of this tomorrow. If you like, you may come back and take all the pictures you want. There will be no hats in your way. I came back the next morning and took many pictures and Shawn said, Of course you will let me see these. And I said, Oh, certainly. Next week I came back with some 11-14 pictures. He was delighted. We became friends and continued our friendship.
Benjamin Richards: I really love his comment about photographing over the picture hats in the audience. If you don’t know, a picture hat, or Gainsborough Hat, is a highly decorated hat with a wide brim popularized in the 18th-century. A quintessential trope of high society women attending outdoor affairs. The name picture hat comes from the idea that the large brim frames the face like a picture. Lindquist’s story quickly paints a picture of the audiences of 1938 watching the early dances at Jacob’s Pillow outdoors, as this was four years before the Ted Shawn Theatre opened its doors, and the majority of the performances happened in what’s now known as the Bakalar Studio, next to the infamous Tea Garden. A place you can still visit today, just outside the Ted Shawn Theatre. I’d like to treat you now with the sounds of Lindquist working with dancers during one of his photoshoots. Here you will hear him directing first dancer Charles Moore of the company 'Charles Moore and Dances and Drums of Africa.' Then flamenco dancers Teodoro Morca and Isabel Morca. Pay close attention as at the very end you’ll be able to hear the historic farm bell ringing in the background. This bell is still rung to this very day calling the audiences of the Ted Shawn Theatre to take their seats.
[musical interlude]
John Lindquist: Do that, Charles, in position, and lift one leg as if you were going to strut as an ostrich does when they take up their feet, you know. That's it. Marvelous. And then that wonderful thing where the whole body moves like a, as the ostrich does. That’s it. I think we've done that. [Charles Moore: Yeah. I want to do a…] Can you get… [Charles Moore: What about this one here?] What? [Moore: Where I'm like this completely]. Oh that's good. And that's it. Marvelous….You're both bent in the center. That's it. And turn toward me a little more.That's it. Don't lose emotional contact with him. When you turn Ray (?) away, you see all the emotional contact [sound of the farm bell]. That’s it.
Benjamin Richards: John Lindquist played a pivotal role in the artistic legacy of the Pillow, capturing dancers in both black and white as well as, quite remarkably, Kodachrome, which was one the early color films released by Kodak in 1935. These color photographs have the remarkable impact of not only making these historic photos feel extremely contemporary, but also provide a richness, as historical assets, rendering costumes, environments, and skin tones in detail. Here we have a 2024 anecdote from Norton Owen, Director of Preservation at Jacob’s Pillow, describing a moment where this aspect of color history made an impact on the presentation of a repertory dance work. The photo you will hear him describing depicts dancer Emily Frankel standing in slight turnout in pink ballet shoes and a calf length peach colored dress, held from behind under the calm gaze of dancer Mark Ryder, Emily bends slightly to the side with her eyes closed, to catch her long bright red hair in the wind.
Norton Owen: Yeah. Its a, It’s a striking color image. And I think the color again, here is one of the stories about it, because it's Emily Frankel and Mark and, Mark Ryder from a dance by Todd Bolender called At the Still Point in 1955, and the dance premiered here at the Pillow. It's a beautiful dance. And there's a section of it that's on Jacob's Pillow Dance Interactive so you can see it online. A couple of minutes from it. And, and I have to say, it's one of my, the favorite things of mine that we have on Dance Interactive, even though, yes, maybe I have different favorites, at different days too. But, one of the things that makes it beautiful is it's, well, as the title At the Still Point might indicate, there's a lot of stillness in it. And that's unusual for something that you're seeing in an old black and white film, where usually there's lots of pyrotechnics going on and lots of things that are very active, and instead you're seeing very slow gestures. And it's mesmerizing to watch that on film. But I had only known it as a black and white film until when I was putting this together, I come across this. And it was like, Wow, first of all, she had red hair and then she's wearing this incredibly colorful costume. It just made it come alive in a different way than I had experienced, even though we have a film of it. And, you know, it's interesting how that kind of information can then make a difference. One of the people who we had visiting here earlier in the season was Devon Carney, who's the Artistic Director of the Kansas City Ballet, a company that was founded by Todd Bolender. So they do At the Still Point. It's in their repertory. And he saw this, and it was like, we don't have a costume like that. That's not that's not what we do. It it, you know, and suddenly you could see he was making plans. Like, we have to see about changing the costumes that we have for this dance because of what he sees here.
Benjamin Richards: Both the black and white recording from At the Still Point and the Kodachrome photograph Owen speaks about can be found on Jacob’s Pillow’s Dance Interactive website as the photo appears at the end of the clip online. And it’s well worth the three minutes to watch. The choice of the photographer to work with color or black and white continues all the way to the present day. But the medium of film rather than digital plays a significant role in this choice. The development of black and white film is a much simpler chemical process than that required to develop color. Even today, those that continue to work with film may choose black and white because of the control it gives them from the clicking of their shutter all the way to the development of their negative and the printing of their photo. Next we hear Mike van Sleen describe his choice to work with black and white in a 2006 PillowTalk.
Mike van Sleen: Black and white was a natural choice for me when I got started, because a lot of people, when they learn it's black and white because it's just you can do it yourself and it's and it's good to understand grayscale, tonal range before you go in the in the color. And also, I have a darkroom here where I work in, and it's much easier to work with black and white when you're doing it on your own. I love the look of black and white, and I always have, even before I was a photographer. I've got a desire to do color. But I feel like I'm still learning that grayscale. You know, I'm still I'm still trying to really fine tune tonalities just right. And, and and I just it just occurred to me the other day thinking about shooting color here because I've considered a few times. And I have to work so quickly here because I don't have a lot of time to plan, and a lot of things are very limited about what I can do when I'm making arrangements with artists to do shots. Time is very tight. And I think if the way I like to get things just right as much as I can, color adds another dimension that you've got to plan for and think about, which I don't have time to think about because like costumes or, or whatever a person wears once you start your makeup. Yeah. And once you start thinking about all of those elements, that just exponentially creates more demand on how to control it. And it's like black and white. Great. You're wearing red, black, whatever [audience laughs]. It doesn't matter. I look for light or dark [audience laughs], you know, works well.
Benjamin Richards: If you are not familiar with the developing process of black and white there are two distinct steps that happen in the dark room. The first is the chemical treatment of the film taken from the camera. This process develops the silver halide crystal emulsions on the film strip converting them from a light sensitive material, to a permanent rendering of the image they were exposed to. But the resulting image is a negative of the original scene, light areas are dark and dark areas are light. To turn these into a final photographic print, one then needs to project light through the developed negative onto a piece of photo sensitive paper. During this process many choices can be made that affect how the image renders on that paper, including the duration of the projected light exposure, and resulting chemical bath the paper is submerged in, to again convert the emulsions from photosensitive chemicals to a permanent image that is no longer in negative. The knowledge of grayscale tonal range Van Sleen describes is often something those of us who work entirely in digital skip, arguably to our detriment. Listen now to Stefan Driscoll describe Lindquist’s opinion on color during his 2024 PillowTalk titled “John Lindquist: As Of Today.”
Stefan Driscoll: Well, he, he thought that color was both difficult and easy. It was difficult in that he couldn't make the prints himself. And he was largely at the mercy of film studios. That would make the prints. But it was easy because he was able to capture the reality. Black and white is, is has a certain distance, but the color is just so vibrant.
Benjamin Richards: Photography at the Pillow has evolved over the decades with the torch being passed, sometimes quite directly, from photographer to photographer. In the same PillowTalk from 2024 Stefan Driscoll remembers the privilege and honor Lindquist held, taking photos of live performances from the front row. Something rarely allowed in the current day. And he recounts a beautiful gesture of entrusting a legacy to the next generation.
Stefan Driscoll: At that point in time, the we photographers were allowed to sit in the front row, and everyone knew who John Lindquist was. And, yeah. Everyone knew who John Lindquist was in the audience were people that came on a regular basis, season ticket holders, and no one objected. They wouldn't dare to, to his very quiet Leica, clicking every now and then. But I would sit next to him and, he would hand me a camera when it ran out of film and I would reload it. And then on this particular occasion, in 1979, he handed me one of the Leicas and he said, My dear, no time like the present. And that was my first, and I the first photo I took was of Ib Andersen of the Royal Danish Ballet and it just it it shocked me that it was so perfect (audience laughs). And, it, it's, it's a, it's a lovely shot. And so it was a, it was a natural transition for me to follow him.
Benjamin Richards: While all four of the photographers we are hearing from today have found their own ways to bring artistry to the photographing of the dancers at Jacob’s Pillow the relationship between the Pillow and its photographers has changed over time. As the Pillow has grown and the world has shrunk, the digital age has demanded more and more exquisite content. Photographs are critical tools for marketing and fundraising, turnaround times must be shorter and shorter, and every artist and program that comes through the Pillow needs stunning images to help tell their story. In the next clip from the class “Integration of Dance and Photography Basics” Duggan gives his insight to a class full of participants who are about to photograph a dress rehearsal in one of the theaters, and you’ll hear how pragmatic his lesson is. In this context Duggan is trying to demonstrate the difference between dance photography as art and being an artist who is photographing dance for assignment. On assignment, whether for archival purposes or for marketing, there are more conservative rules that are generally practiced.
Christopher Duggan: My objective is to get images for press and for marketing. So I was thinking about what does that really mean? And like, these are rules that like somebody told me, but this is based on my, like my own work and observing others. Pictures from marketing and press, you want to be able to show the choreography so you're not. So you're not trying to just make your own artsy picture. Oh I really love the way that foot went somewhere, you know, you want to be able to show the choreographer’s work. So in a way, being able to step aside, you know, your own vision comes through, but it's the choreographer that they're trying to sell. Rose mentioned it before. You don't cut off limbs. You want toe to fingertip, you want to see the whole thing, as a general rule. There's an awesome photographer who shoots for the New York Times, which is really a disadvantage, she's got this gift of cutting, cutting the dancers off, and she makes it work. But if you watch the New York Times Andrea Mohin, toe to finger tips doesn't cut anything. You want to stop the motion. I don't want to have blur. It's got to be a crisp in focus, stop motion picture.
Benjamin Richards: Photography of live dance is a skill that requires not only a robust understanding of the mechanics of your camera but of the nature of dance and music on stage. It could be said that the camera has to dance with the performance in order to anticipate critical moments, whether it's the peak of a leap or the punctuation of a phrase, the photographer needs to arrive there with the dancers and fire the shutter at the perfect time. Here Duggan speaks about the differences in dance styles.
Christopher Duggan: Ballet, if you listen to the music most of the time, if you really listen to the music and you're tuning in with the dancers, like it makes sense. Modern dance, you never know [audience laughs]. You just don't know. They may not have music. They might be dancing against the music. They might not do anything that has anything to do with the music. They might, but they might not. And you don't know, are they going to repeat or are they not going to repeat? You know, you listen to Tchaikovsky, whatever. Like, aaaah [exclaims loudly] here it goes [audience laughs]. Like when the boy lifts the girl. That's no, that's his formula for success [audience laughs]. And I'll go in and I will shoot and get a couple of like what I think of as like safe shots. So I know that I got something. And then once I feel like I've got something, then I start to really like pull in. And at that point I might start, making some other kinds of pictures.
Benjamin Richards: While Christopher Duggan was teaching his class how to photograph live dance as an observer, the other common practice for all four of our artists today was to work directly with dancers to compose unique photographs. These sessions had the luxury of being able to bring dance into the world, whether it was deep in the woods, on rooftops, or in an engineered space where light and color could be controlled. Several of these photographers set up temporary natural light studios behind the Ted Shawn Theatre, where, with some simple pipe and a little bit of fabric, they could harness the sunlight to soften and shape the light to their advantage, as well as frame their dancers in a solid color background. But this type of artistic photography requires something else from the artists. It requires a dialogue. We heard John Lindquist earlier on one of his shoots and he never stopped talking. And the dancers talked back, not with words but with their bodies, moving and tuning in reply to Lindquist’s directions. Listen now to Mike van Sleen, as he considers the importance of that relationship.
Mike van Sleen: Now that I'm finally starting to get a hang of technically what I'm doing with the camera and the process. I'm starting to realize that the pose is an art form in itself. Finding the right pose, you know, in terms of a portraiture where you're directing them and working with them and, and it's an art form that's enormous. And I'm realizing that it covers a real gamut of psychological interaction and conversation and communication, that it's going to take me a really long time to, to get just right. It's it's very it's complex. It's hard.
Benjamin Richards: As the photographer's connection to the performance meets in synergy with the mechanics of freezing time on film or frame, dance photography has found a natural home at Jacob's Pillow since its founding. With a legacy of many great artists who have captured time in a proverbial bottle we get to enjoy their work for generations to come. Looking back decades or days, photography defies the ephemeral nature of dance and seeks ever to move its viewers with renderings of tremendous majesty, profound subtlety, kinetic frenzy, or exquisite grace. Dance photographers help sell tickets to get our butts in seats, and inspire us to give generously so that the dance never stops. It can be pragmatic and it can be existential. Photographer Rose Eikenbawm said “Composition is nothing more than choreography. The photographer is a choreographer, essentially. We place our subjects, we decide where they're going to go in the frame. We decide what is present, what is material for an image to work.” I hope today we have gained some appreciation for the photographers who have called Jacob’s Pillow home, and to whom the Pillow is eternally grateful. We close with John Lindquist reflecting on the spirit of the dancer on camera.
John Lindquist: You must have the technique, but you must have a personality that has the depth of feeling and depth of understanding and able to increase your emotional depth, even though you suffer from it. So that you can, in gesture, movement or voice or sound. That's what I used to say about the great Violette Verdy and several of the others that had been at the Pillow. They are great because they give me more moments of ecstasy of movement than a person who is very technically good. They have that little something that, that makes them artists [music begins]. There is no limit. To what has and what is going to happen to die. As Shawn would say the thousands of ways that man has moved rhythmically. And when you think for a moment that we are at the limit or at the end of any of the forms, you are mistaken. It is endless. The ecstasy of motion, the ecstasy of movement is endless [music ends].
[Music begins, composed and performed by Jess Meeker]
Norton Owen: That's it for this episode of PillowVoices. Thank you for joining us today. On behalf of Jacob's Pillow, we look forward to sharing more dance with you through the films, essays and podcasts at dance interactive dot jacobspillow.org, and of course, through live experiences during our festival and throughout the year. Special thanks to the National Endowment for the Arts for helping launch this podcast series. Please subscribe to PillowVoices, wherever you get your podcasts and visit us again soon, either online or on site.