This is the first part of a two part interview. Part two was published on published Thursday, 23rd July, 2009.
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You already know the work of Steve Davis, you just don’t know it. Prison Photography‘s most popular post was that of pinhole photographs made by the young ladies of Remann Hall, Tacoma. Steve Davis conceived of and led the workshop.
Concurrent to workshops, Steve worked on his own project, Captured Youth (1997 – 2005) turning his lens on the juvenile offenders and institutions within Washington State. Steve’s introduction to the Captured Youth book reads, “What are officially referred to as “schools” are, in fact, youth correctional facilities – jails for juniors. It’s a world kept secret from the general public, but there are no secrets inside. Everyone is watched.”
Steve and I sat down to talk about the circumstances of the workshops and portraits, the involvement of – and benefit to – the teens, the atmosphere in the facilities and how the practice of photography manifests in sites of incarceration.
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Prison Photography: Steve, you photographed in four institutions in total?
Steve Davis: Yes, Maple Lane, Green Hill School, Oakridge and Remann Hall.
PP: How did you pick those?
SD: I fell into it years ago. It was fairly unintentional. I was doing PR photography for an [non-profit] organization called The Experimental Gallery that was trying to bring in art teachers on residencies into juvenile facilities. It came up they were interested in maybe having a photography workshop. I said it was something I was interested in.
And, nothing happened for a couple of years, but then I got a phone call and they asked if I’d like to teach the kids photography and double up as a photographer for their publications.
I thought about it and I asked if I could do something different. I wanted to slow the process down and bring in a large 8×10 camera. I just wanted to do portraits; focus on who the kids were without all the trappings, bars, etcetera that go along with images of young offenders.
So, I went in and worked with the kids [within a photographic workshop format] and then organized outside of that to take in the large camera.
Essentially, I was working under the umbrella of The Experimental Gallery, which had a grant, so I could only be there when they said I could be there. And when they were done and the grant was over, I had no more access.
Beginnings
SD: It started in 1997 at Maple Lane, then later the Green Hill School and Remann Hall. Each of those placements was under the direction of Susan Warner and The Experimental Gallery. Susan is now the Director of Education at Tacoma Museum of Glass. Between time, Susan had a job at the Children’s Museum in Seattle and they supported her doing this and she continued through them. And likewise, since she has worked at Tacoma Museum of Glass they have supported her as well. So the name has always been the same.
Lastly, at Oakridge – that was all my own work, with anyone’s sponsorship.
PP: You returned to Oakridge and the project in 2005. Why did you decide to return?
SD: Well, at the time the project didn’t seem resolved. I wanted to do something a little different. Oakridge is a transitional facility so they are not so much under lock and key, they are allowed to wear their own clothes and they have day jobs. That is where they reside just prior to release.
Soon after [Oakridge] I felt like I was getting to the point where I was taking the same picture.
PP: How did you respond to that?
SD: I tried contacting other facilities. I really wanted to get in to Clallam Bay, which is an adult institution but has a juvenile facility. It is really hidden from the public. But none of that panned out.
Overall, my interest with portraits has pretty much been about people who are controlled and lack all sorts of freedoms. I haven’t only focused on prison; I did a lot of work at an institution for the mentally disabled.
PP: What’s the attraction to these types of subjects?
SD: When I got into the work, I fell in with these mini societies with their own economies and their own rules and they’re all over the place. They are thoroughly hidden by intention from the public – who have no interest in examining it. It doesn’t benefit the public to do that.
I found these places intriguing partly because once you are there in the middle of it, the people you come across, they’re linked together by reasons that are not of their own choice. It’s not the type of community where people have something in common so they create their own economies. They are like dogs in a pound. They might be friends, they might not, but they share common concerns.
I was interested in trying to zero in on these people as individuals with personalities and hopefully open up a lot of questions with the viewer. That s all I wanted to do. I wasn’t trying to reach conclusions or force anything down anybody’s throat. I am just trying to acknowledge that this is 20 miles from home.
All these [sites of incarceration] have names that sound like country clubs! You’d never know that Maple Lane was anything but a nice street or golf club. When you drive past, it is a beautiful place, but you won’t see a kid outside. It looks good from the road, but it is not a place you can walk around.
When I did workshops, they’d love it if I walked them over to the fence; they’d never been! Just little things like that were huge thrills to them.
PP: So the youth were always willing participants?
SD: The first residency at Maple Lane was the best organized. The kids were engaged – some were working with painting and music. The goal was to create a mixed media large exhibition that would go into the high schools of King County, and other areas that had a lot of at-risk youth.
So the kids [inmates] would present the information of their own lives. The message was for the exhibition was generally “You don’t want this”. The young prisoners understood that and got behind it.
Method
PP: Tell us about your portrait work. How much direction did you give the boys as sitters?
SD: Well, they knew the reason why I was there. And all they knew was that their portraits were to go into a catalog. In all, three catalogs were produced. They knew the photos would be published and shown. Other than that, the motivation from these kids to have their picture taken was overwhelming.
I did go in with a bit of theater. I had a large camera, I had lights and I had an assistant. So they were just begging to get their picture taken. It wasn’t hard at all. Direction was minimal. I’d ask them to turn their head or look into or away from the camera. Because I was shooting 8×10 on a limited budget, I’d take a limited numbers of pictures of each person, maybe 2 or 3, and then they were gone.
PP: The personalities of these kids comes through very strong. Are these images an accurate reflection of the individuals in the group?
SD: Yes, each photograph is one accurate reflection. Many of the sitters look very somber, but in fact they’d be laughing their heads off a lot of the time.
Some of the portraits I feel stronger about than others. There are some portraits I don’t have a particular connection with and there’s other I really love. Kids that really struck a chord with me, part of it was the experience of them sitting with me, knowing their character.
PP: Can you talk about a few of them?
SD: This guy. The nicest guy in the world. Total white racist. Had as many black friends as white, but he was basically raised to be a white racist. Once you got to know him you fell into that world, his world. He got along with everybody, but if you asked him he would’ve told you what his views were. I shot a lot of him, indoors and outdoors, more complicated environments.
PP: This portrait?
SD: I like that one. I don’t know if it’s the picture or the kid. But out of all the time I was there, he was the only one where the staff said, “He should not be here.” He was a Mexican who got busted for being a drugs mule from Mexico. Apparently, some rivals burnt his house down. He couldn’t or wouldn’t speak English. He was scared and totally out of his element. But over about three months he started playing the role of the tough guy and you saw this transition. He was becoming what he was assumed to be to begin with. Becoming a hard guy – it was sad.
PP: And this guy?
SD: This was in the psychiatric ward and they were all seriously medicated. This kid here was heavily medicated. He’s got blood on his teeth.
PP: Explain the blood.
SD: He told me he was in a fight the day before and he was walking around like this. Maybe he was continuing to bleed.
PP: Did he always have that look?
SD: Probably not. I didn’t really know this kid. But when I saw him I really wanted to photograph him. I was never demanding, but he was the only one I had to cajole. I said “If you want to make a dent, let me take your picture.” He said okay. That was just his gaze. I really thought his look was gripping. And there was a whole wing of them.
PP: Was it a common attitude among the juveniles, that they knew they were medicated and they knew they didn’t want to present themselves as such to the camera?
SD: He was the only one. I only took two pictures in the psychiatric ward.
PP: And this young man?
SD: He was the only other one I photographed on this wing and he was fine with it. A couple of years later when I was working at Green Hill, I was showing the staff my work and they recognized him and told me he’d got out and was later murdered on the street. He was involved in a knife fight.
PP: This one may stick with viewers but maybe for the wrong reasons? This is your only image where the sitter comes across as full of attitude, possibly angry?
SD: Yeah, he’s got a smirk. This picture never struck me as much as others, but many people have commented. I just never really connected with the portrait.
SD: One thing I learnt from putting the work out is that people respond to these portraits for their own reasons. A lot of the reasons have nothing to do with prison justice. Some of them like pictures of handsome young boys; they like to see beautiful people, or vulnerable people, whatever. That started to blow my mind after a while.
But on the other hand, I don’t want to force people into thinking that these portraits should be considered in one particular context. Just, here they are. Portraits are really charged that way.
PP: My wife’s favourite is the kid blowing gum. What was that scenario?
SD: He was the nicest kids. He was overweight. He had a massive pack of bubble gum and it was in Oakridge, so he was on work release during the day. He seemed like a nice kid and so I asked “could you blow a bubble”. He did. I like that picture precisely because he looks as if he doesn’t belong.
SD: But more than the portraits, the pinhole photographs from Remann Hall are my favorites.
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Please return on Thursday, 23rd July to read Part Two of this Interview.
10 comments
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July 25, 2009 at 8:27 am
Patrick McInerney
Hi. At last, the interview 🙂 Excellent publication Steve (get a copy at http://www.blurb.com)
Davis: “It’s not the type of community where people have something in common so they create their own economies. They are like dogs in a pound. They might be friends, they might not, but they share common concerns.”
This is hardly a feature of just prison culture. Sounds like this could also be said about society in general. Does not society create its own communities, economies etc. (and destroy others) in order to manufacture a common framework for consent? The irony is that prison is itself one such manufactured community. Who then are the dogs in the pound?
July 25, 2009 at 12:28 pm
petebrook
Patrick. True. The sooner we recognise those incarcerated within US (and other Western nation) prisons as firmly within (not outside) our society, then we are always a large step away from dealing truly with issues of “deviance”, social manufacture & management – thus forging honest engagement between individuals and communities.
You’ve chosen to highlight the structural connections and I at Prison Photography also try to highlight the human and ethical connections. We have the same objective though … to get people to understand prison populations in ways more related to “population” (meaning people with as nuanced and diverse needs as the rest of us) instead of focusing only on the “prison” part of the label.
July 26, 2009 at 10:58 am
Patrick McInerney
Thanks Pete, I was also struck by a short news article about Steve’s exhibition of the Captured Youth images in the Seattle Traveler blog (24 Feb 2007: http://www.theseattletraveler.com/2007/02/) which states that the images, referring to the facial expressions of young men, are “a mix of arrogance and pain, pride and sorrow, lots of anger, and, the observer would hope, of regret”.
However, author is of course reading his/her own pre-existing prejudices into the images. We could just as easily read (and perhaps we should) all of those emotions (arrogance, pride, anger and one would hope regret) into how prison systems and indeed the social body itself currently feels about prisoners.
July 26, 2009 at 2:25 pm
petebrook
Patrick. The article to which you refer is cursory and a good reminder why papers are better to just publish the facts about a show/reception rather than offer trite summary and opinion.
The point you make is crucial and valid (it also applies to all other photography and art) in that the viewer brings with them their own agenda. It is near impossible to escape this and it takes a lot of work and sensibility by audiences to appreciate wholly a divergent take on an issue. I am not exempt from this shortcoming – I have my own biases.
This is why I believe the best artists are those that move people to new thought and positive action and why the best critics are articulate in describing the relevant worth (or unnecessary repetition) of artistic endeavours.
July 27, 2009 at 12:13 pm
Patrick McInerney
Pete: At the risk of hogging the airwaves on this one – The similarity between Steve’s photographs and the scientific studies of psychiatric inmates the mid nineteenth century asylums is striking. (For a particularly good example see pictures of psychiatric inmates in Morel’s 1857 ‘Traites des Degenerescences: Atlas’ at http://maca.cdmhost.com/u?/p1325coll1,4186 [Plate 12])
And its interesting that they have a similar effect today as the early images did in the past, i.e. they encourage us to read the prisoner’s ‘true’ character in their faces, with all the difficulty that incurs. It was obviously not Steve’s intent to mimic 19th c. scientists but maybe its quite understandable he feels that the style has become a bit jaded…it has after all been around for some time!
BTW Relating to the emotions patronisingly attributed by the Seattle Traveler (above post): for arrogance, anger and sorrow I would read, cheekyness, stoicism and boredom 🙂
November 4, 2010 at 2:59 am
Chris
Wow. Those are some pretty cool pictures. I was on “The Hill.” for a while. Just got out too. My 4th day of freedom. It’s pretty fuckin’ awesome. Tryin not to get locked up again. Really cool pictures man.
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