Meg Birnbaum

WELCOME TO THE FAIR

This summer I attended seven regional fairs in New England ranging from a tiny 4H fair to the giant Eastern States Exposition. These ten photographs suggest a small facet of the fair experience and what I shot there.

At the end of the previous summer I attended a large summer fair in Vermont. Passing through the gates, I was surprised at how vividly I remembered the fairs of my youth. I was smitten. I found that then and now, fairs are a complicated balance of startling innocence and huckster sleaze. Everything is for sale; from whirlpool baths to religious salvation. The human sideshows of the past have been replaced with the more acceptable freakishly sized livestock—see the largest bull in the world—you’ll be thrilled and amazed for just one dollar!

Most of the fairs that I attended are over one hundred years old and although they may last for another hundred years, I wondered about the future of farm animals and farm life. In spite of organizations like the Future Farmers of America and 4H, the independent American Farmer is vanishing. The future of these summer fairs may rely on a shift away from agriculture to entertainment ....mostly food, specifically fried food; fried oreos, fried cheesecake “We’ll fry anything” one sign read. But for now, all of this and more, exist in harmony against a backdrop of gleeful screams, bells and whistles and the aroma of fried dough mixed with the pungent essence of livestock and exotic poultry.


BOTANICAL REGENERATIONS

The biological process — a curious beauty won by stamina, resiliency, and endurance in the service of a reproductive imperative. Traditional still life, more often than not, addresses natural forms at the moment of optimum fruition and perfect ripeness. I am interested in capturing on film a temporal poignancy of the continuing biological cycle — the time between fruition and regeneration. As I witness the effects of time as it breaks down and changes these botanicals I am finding a new perspective on the natural order of change in myself and those around me.

Instead of selectively seeking perfect forms, I aim to take ordinary finds and allow each subject’s extraordinary qualities to shine. By removing these items from their natural environments and presenting them center stage, I hope to grant even the most humble of subjects the honest and quiet grandeur it deserves. The enlarged scale of my prints provides the viewer an intimate view of the magnificent graphic forms and sensual curves of these commonly overlooked natural objects.


SUMMER AT THE LAKE

July was promise, hope and possibility.

With the first of August came a growing anxiety. . . of summer half over, of goodbyes and endings. The preciousness of those moments of discovery — of frogs and salamanders caught, examined, released. The time of first times, first loyalties — first betrayals . . . time spent with family, fleeting friendships and hours exploring alone.

Always, always there was water. A lake, a pond, a creek, an ocean.

I yearn . . . I dream. And in these photographs I hope to revive summer memories, the mysteries, the magic and wonder. The mercurial perfectness and finite preciousness of August, or August as a state of mind warmly intertwined with nature’s essential elements.


Process Statement

I shoot with film, make my prints in a traditional wet-chemical darkroom and print to archival standards on a velvety matte surface fiber paper. I then tone the finished print with a traditional two-step sepia brown.

Much of my work, excluding the Botanical Regenerations portfolio, were taken with either a Diana or a Holga plastic camera. These cameras are often called toy cameras or krappy cameras. They have plastic lens and only very basic controls, not unlike early box cameras.