|Richard W. Moore|
My father took pictures, narrow prints on paper with deckled edges. I learned to take pictures with his Kodak Monitor folding camera after he moved up to a 35 mm Pony. I built a darkroom under the cellar stairs before we had a black-and-white television. At the height of the Cuban missile crisis my darkroom doubled as a bomb shelter, with cans of beans stashed alongside the Kodak chemicals. I took photos of family events and my dog.
I kept at it. I had instruction and inspiration from friends, teachers. I squeezed photography in beside career and family. I had eye trouble and could no longer work in the darkroom, so I took slides on family vacations. in 2002 Digital technology gave photography back to me, in full measure.
I had mechanical arts teachers in high school who taught me perspective, and an art teacher who persuaded me that "time is of the essence." Studying drawing and sculpture at Yale University in the 1960s taught me to see, and Paul Caponigro began to teach me about vision, as well as time and temperature. My roommate, Neil Maurer, then at the beginning of a fine career in photography, inspired me then as now.
I've been drawn to the layering of time, the layering of lives passing unseen over the same terrain. Perhaps it goes back to photographing the daily excavation of time at an ancient archaeological site. The intuition of something having happened, the intersection with another time in the same place, inclines me to set up my tripod. I am trying to convey the same moment of perception whether in the literally layered Twice-seen images or in the interpretation of landscape as an intersection of the rhythms of geology, ancient growth, the passing of the seasons, and ultimately the light.
Member and past president, New Hampshire Society of Photographic Artists
Member, Ogunquit Art Association
Member, New Hampshire Art Association