Both the atomic bomb and I were born in 1944 at a top-secret military base in Oak Ridge, TN. The bomb was known as The Manhattan Project--I was called Michael. As of this writing, the bomb has had the bigger impact on the world.
I can recall my father teaching me to develop film when I was quite young, perhaps 7 or 8. I fiddled with photography through elementary and junior high schools, taking pictures of schoolmates and friends. In high school I was the photographer for the school newspaper, and during one of my attempts at college, I was the yearbook photographer. I then gave up photography, as I could see little use for it except for photojournalism.
In 1975, my then wife, Dina, expressed an interest in learning to develop and print black and white photographs. I volunteered to teach her, as I thought of myself as an expert. We started photographing and were fortunate enough to discover Fred Picker and his book, The Zone VI Workshop. We were so impressed with the book that in 1979 we attended a 10-day workshop in Vermont with Fred. I quickly realized that I didn't know very much about photography, and that I knew nothing at all about art. Fred and his staff taught me everything I needed to know about the technical aspects of photography--that's the easier part. They also opened my eyes to art, and convinced me that it really did exist (down deep, I believed that art was a myth that some people affected in order to appear superior). I left Vermont determined to learn how to create this new idea, this "art".
In 1983 I attended the last Ansel Adams workshop, where I learned that I was still a grasshopper, at least as far as art was concerned. But I kept working, and slowly I began to see results. I had a couple of good years, photographically speaking, but became disillusioned in 1985, and I gave up photography for the second time. I had spent too many years trying to make “Ansel Adams-like” photographs, or “Brett Weston-like” photographs, and there were already more than enough people doing cute pet photos and street scenes.
In 2003 I was asked by a friend to take a photograph of her favorite orchid. Possibly due to innate artistic ability, or maybe out of dumb luck, the photograph was more than just a picture of a particular plant; it was anthropomorphic. It was a picture that was about people, but it was disguised as a picture of flowers. It was something I had never seen before, and it was mine alone.
Yes, these are pictures of flowers, but flowers are not what I photograph. I photograph the characters, the interactions, and the emotions I see in the flowers. They laugh, dance, flirt, kiss, and strut for the camera. They are us--you and I. They are people we know and people we recognize from our own experiences. There are both portraits and candid shots here, and a few that don't want to be labeled.
Michael Stansbury