On This Day..

This morning, like most millennials, I pulled up Facebook to do my morning scroll. Where there is normally a news feed filled with my friends' successes and cat videos, today there was a little message telling me that one year ago today, I was visiting New York for the first time. 

The message popped up as a 'on this day' memory, one of Facebook's many features. It was accompanied by this picture, three of my closest friends from Paris reunited in New York: 

Thinking back, it was one of those 'pinch me is this really happening' moments. These three (and our fearlessly spirited but unfortunately absent Hanan) guided me through Paris and now we were walking through New York together. Freaking amazing. 

The one on the left, Rachel, ignited my love for art in a way that no one else ever could. Week two of our time in Paris, we made a pact - we'd go to art museums on the days we didn't have morning class. We'd go to the museum, which was almost always free since we were students living in the EU and were studying art. Afterwards, we'd find a quiet little cafe to drink an espresso and journal. We'd talk about the artwork, how the exhibition felt, what we liked, what we hated, and why. We'd veer into philosophical conversations and then nostalgically tell stories about our animals, who were waiting for us back home. It was, in my opinion, the best way to experience Paris. I kept a tally, and by the end of the four months, we had gone on 100 museum trips. She was also there to walk with me through the Met and MoMA, just as she had been for the Musee d'Orsay and the Louvre. 

Kasey, the giggling human in the middle, was my very first friend in Paris. I'm not always great at making friends, and my first impressions almost always end up with a foot in mouth situation. Kasey and I met in the airport shuttle van that was taking us to our rooms, which were spread out throughout the city. I sat beside her in the crowded van of eager women. She and I were talking about what we wanted to see while we were in Paris, and I sassily and sarcastically made a joke about wanting to see DisneyParis. Kasey laughed, picking up on my sarcasm, and wholeheartedly agreed that anyone who came to Paris for the culture of DisneyParis was a bit of a fool. I quickly found out that coming to Paris for DisneyParis was the main reason that the rest of the van had come to Paris. Needless to say, Kasey and I were bonded in our awkwardness, and we spent the next four months not going to DisneyParis. 

This picture sums up Anastasia pretty well, I think. The far right belly laugher, that's her. She hails from Western PA, same as me, so she reached out to me before our program began. We had a good conversation via Facebook, but then she ended it with, "Hahah yeah, never talk to me again. You seem weird and we have nothing in common." I appreciated her honesty and thanked her for it. She was being sarcastic, but it took flying to Paris for me to fully grasp that. Being from Western PA, we were both a little grosser than everyone else in our program. We were just more okay with a dirt, molding shoes, or old food. We probably shocked one or two Frenchmen with our lack of dainty characteristics, but dang, we had fun. She makes everyone laugh and restored my hope in true love (hi, Tim Lasher). She was my go to to celebrate my successes, and to cry to when ordering a baguette was just too damn hard. 

It was with these three that I first explored New York. For me, the trip was far less about New York than it was about my friends. I was focused on reuniting with my friends, hearing about their lives, how re-entry was for them, what boy troubles and life success we were facing. I wanted hugs and high fives, New York was just the most convenient meeting place. But I immediately fell in love with its chaos. 

Within the first couple hours, I boldly declared that one day, I'd like to live in New York. (Just as I had done to my sister in 2011 in Paris, a prophecy that came true in 2014.)

Fast forward to today, and I'm celebrating three months into my New York adventure. I've signed my first lease, survived my first semester at Parsons. I've had (and gotten rid of) bed bugs and gained (and lost) weight. I've made friends, drank on rooftops, and on more than one occasion, I've bought more books than I can carry. (Curse you, The Strand, and your dollar book sales! - Just kidding, you're perfect. Don't ever change.) 

It's been a wild ride. And it's only been a year since I first peaked into this crazy city. 

In Midnight in Paris, this quote pops up. And I think it's a fitting reaction to cities.. There really is no creation, no artwork, no masterpiece that shines as beautifully as a living city. So thanks, New York and Paris (and even you, Pittsburgh), for existing in this "cold, violent, meaningless universe". 

You know, I sometimes think, how is anyone ever gonna come up with a book, or a painting, or a symphony, or a sculpture that can compete with a great city. You can't. Because you look around and every street, every boulevard, is its own special art form and when you think that in the cold, violent, meaningless universe that Paris exists, these lights, I mean come on, there's nothing happening on Jupiter or Neptune, but from way out in space you can see these lights, the cafés, people drinking and singing. - Gil Pender, Midnight in Paris

Open Studio

Parsons MFA students hosted an Open Studio on Friday night, allowing the public in to our most personal creative spaces. It was a rare glimpse into our processes and the work we've created over the past two months. 

I think each of my peers would say that it's been a rigorous and trying two months. Transitioning to New York, acclimating to graduate school pace, constantly challenging our own beliefs and theories, long days and long nights.. It has been quite a summer of personal and artistic growth, individually and as a collective. And I'm grateful that this is the team I got to take that journey with. 

As the night progressed, I forced each of my classmates to let me take their portraits in their studios. Everyone (myself included) was pretty awkward in front of the camera (I mean, we're photographers for a reason.. Being behind a camera offers control and the beautiful benefit of not being the subject.), but they were good sports about it. For most of us, this is our first studio and our first real dip into the art world. It's exciting in an unparalleled way. Making moves towards bigger things, one step at a time.. And with these amazing artists. 

A Dramatic Failure

Okay. Confession time. 

I've spent two months of my blood, sweat, and tears producing "a dramatic failure." 
Whoops. 

My first two months of graduate school have been marked with a seemingly unending stream of chaos. And as I finish the punchline on this crazy summer, I'm grateful for the failures. 

In my undergraduate career, ideas came so quickly that I seemed to overrun by them. I had concepts constantly in the works and creative teams to help me realize them. In just four months, I created Portraits of Ex-Lovers, Homicide, Love in the Digital Age, the Uncomfortable Piece and began work on Untitled (Pornography). It was an insanely productive time, and I reveled in the creative environment that had spurred this production. And when I was faced with the start of my MFA program, I had seemingly run out of ideas. 

So I'm staring into this creative void, desperate to make work and dedicated to working hard at it. I've poured myself into processes that have yielded unexpected failures. 

My frustration with this lack of successful images and the difficulties of adjusting to New York has lead me to create confused imagery that seems not to follow a coherent line of thought. I've been trying to figure out how to best explain this all to the wonderful friends and family who continuously say, "We expect great things from you!" or "Can't wait to see what you do in New York!". These sentiments directly conflict with the weekly critiques from my professors and classmates, who have cited my summer work as "a dramatic failure." 

Sure, I came to New York and to graduate school to succeed and to create successful images. But it is not through success that we grow - it is through the dramatic failures. I've tried new techniques. I've gotten out of my comfort zone. I've experimented, I've played. I've made a mess. I've tested new processes and new ways of thinking. I've challenged myself and failed over and over again. I've cried in bathrooms, hallways, studios, and even once, I cried on the sidewalk. I've made ugly images and boring images, and I've sure made a lot of them. I've allowed myself the freedom to explore, and I've had to work hard at being okay with failing. I've come to realize that the more spectacular the failure, the more intense the growth. And while I still have a lifetime to prove this theory, I fully expect that this process will continue to prove itself over and over again. 

Every creative pours themselves into their work. Sometimes, it's awesome. Sometimes, it's hell. 

Countless sayings remind us that it's not how often you fall down, but how often you get back up. And I'm on my feet, a little more confused than I was at the start, but I'm ready for whatever failures I bum into next. Ready to continue to hone the freedom that comes with failure-friendly artistic exploration. 

I hope you're failing spectacularly and dramatically, my friends. 

See the work that inspired this post here. 

Self portrait (Crying), 14 July 2016

Disclaimer for my grandma (when my dad prints this out and gives it to her) - I am not actually failing grad school. I'm just making artwork that isn't my best work. I am, of course, going to all my classes and working extremely hard. I haven't become involved in drugs or other risky business. Although I did move Brooklyn, which so far has no more crime than Manhattan with the added benefit of significantly cheaper coffee. 

Month 1 of 27

One month in to my New York adventure, and I've already had the quintessential New York experience: bed bugs. 

This crawly addition to the chaotic transition has been unpleasant, to say the least. Having swollen up, I've discovered that I'm actually really allergic to their bites. I'd share pictures, but no body wants to see that (unless you're currently trying to decide if you have bed bugs.. If you're on that quest, I am so very sorry.) 

I thought that bed bugs were a dirty part of an unhygienic person's lifestyle, a side effect of not showering or living in a mattress rented from a hot dog vendor's cart. But as one classmate eloquently put it: 

"I don't know anyone who has lived in New York for more than a year that hasn't gotten bed bugs. It's part of the New York experience." 

Beautiful bitterness towards the entire city of New York has taken hold of me, but don't worry - $1 pizza has relieved all of my ill will. 

Beyond these vicious little bugs, my life has been progressing quite well. I've been working on collaging art catalogues from the famed auction houses Sotheby's and Christie's. I've been having weekly critiques with professors and classmates, which have greatly informed my process and work. I spend most of my time in my studio, cutting up replications of famous artworks and repurposing them for my own use. I've been working on making 100 of these collages in just four days, trying to get significant progress prepared for my next critique. Grueling but a blast, as anything worth doing should be.

Putting in work || 23 June 2016

A video posted by Hannah Harley (@hanharley) on Jun 23, 2016 at 8:37pm PDT

See this Instagram video by @hanharley * 86 likes

It's been odd, having left my supportive creative community in Pittsburgh and working on transitioning to a new community. I've found that my work is heavily influenced by those working around me, and I'm always inspired by the relationships in my life. So entering a creative space with no familiar relationships is a bit striking. 

The people I've met here have been incredible. They all see the world differently and present it in new and exciting ways. They're already successful commercially, and they have minds that think outside of the box. To dote on my peers' successes, one of my classmates just returned from Vienna, where she completed an installation for Audi. (See her work here.)

I'm excited to share the final work with you in just a month's time! 

Stay tuned for non-bug related updates and stay bug free, my friends! 

Moving Forward : New York

This past weekend I moved into my apartment in Manhattan, starting a new chapter in my life. Now, I have said far too many goodbyes to far too many incredible people and I'm already worn out from missing them. The folks I met in Pittsburgh were some of the best, and I only hope that the ones I meet in New York are half as wonderful. But it's time to take the next leap.

I begin working towards my MFA tomorrow. 
I begin working towards my MFA tomorrow. 

Years of pouring myself into this medium have begun to pay off. Because tomorrow, I begin working towards my MFA at my dream school. 

Back in December, graduate school was a far off dream. I was doubtful of if I could get in, as I still sometimes think like that freshman girl who shot exclusively on automatic settings. But I toured with my friend Michelle, and I decided to apply to my top two schools: School of Visual Arts and Parsons. They were both my reach schools, a big no no according to my professor, but I knew that I wasn't going to spend my time or money on a school that I wasn't absolutely in love with. (When I eventually got in to both, my mom rejected the idea of me going to both schools.. Alas.)

My interview for Parsons was terrible. We had a miscommunication about times, so I was seemingly fifteen minutes late, and my internet dropped out during the Skype call. I dropped my computer, spilled my coffee, and talked about visual work that I didn't even submit to them.. All of the caffeine and adrenaline was pumping through me so I didn't feel like I had a coherent thought or steady bone in my body. (Plus when they called, 'X Gon Give It To Ya' was playing in that background to pump me up, and that song is riddled with swear words..) I was certain that they walked out of the interview in a fit of laughter at my expense. 

(And I am aware that this does not paint me in the best of light. But I'm writing about the journey, and that's rarely free from problems. It's almost always filled with moments like these, moments that are incredibly imperfect. But that's what make the good good.)

But Parsons picked me. They did, even through that crazy interview. And tomorrow, I show up and we get to start making art together. How freaking cool is that? 

I know I'm one of the younger ones in the program and that this level of enthusiasm will make me seem like a baby encountering apple sauce for the first time, but I'm not going to apologize for being excited. I'm thrilled to have gotten this opportunity and to be able to pursue my dreams in New York and at Parsons. And I can't wait to start. I feel like a kid the night before Christmas, but I'm just a 22 year old on the eve of her last first day. From here on out, it's 27 months straight through, non stop.

So let's do this. 

They wanted a picture for the student ID. I don't know if I take myself too seriously or not seriously enough... 

Solo Exhibition : A Reflection

Two weeks ago, I 'graduated' at a Fairfield Inn & Suites in my softball uniform and a borrowed cap and gown, complete with a lil diploma made out of the hotel's scratch paper. And while it was a solid, somewhat predictable ending to four incredible years, I will not deny that it has been a very long road. I have spent these past four short and crazy years completing 190 credits, playing collegiate softball, making magazines and artworks, and delighting in the most incredible friends, peers, and mentors. 

And this graduation picture was a low quality iPhone images with a filter slapped on to save us from the green lighting of the hotel lobby. It was the perfect ending to four incredible years, and I mean that sincerely. 

As I look back over countless hurried meals in the spare moments between classes and the seemingly endless sleepless nights, I'm grateful for a support system who has held me up even at my most tired, my most hangry, my most stressed. And when looking back at my most recent display of my visual work, I cannot help but deflect any and all of my success towards the impact and influence of these incredible people. 

On May 20th, I excitedly presented a solo exhibition of my recent visual work, which was an exploration of contemporary perceptions of intimacy through pornography and online dating services. I showed two bodies of work: Untitled (Pornography) and Love in the Digital Age. I made new work for both series and hung them with the help of the very sweet humans: Michelle Montana, Ren Rathbone, and Alden Roth. 

My awesome bud, Michelle Montana, after hanging this 5 foot beast. We hung a show in this space in October, so it was a great experience to be in it again. 

I've talked about the work itself extensively on this website. The last blog post went quite in depth about the meaning of Untitled (Pornography). (Read it here) The other body of work, Love in the Digital Age, analyzes the online dating application called Tinder. The application is known for promoting hook up culture, and there are several articles and opinion pieces that support this notion. Take Vanity Fair's 'Tinder and the Dawn of the Dating Apocalypse'. Articles like this one compare this form of online dating to food delivery, completely berating the existence of applications like Tinder. 

As someone who has found incredible people with whom I've enjoyed loving, caring relationships with, I think that Tinder is exactly what you make of it. (A nice article supports my findings : Breathless, In Defense of Hookup Culture) If you're looking for hook ups, there are individuals who are also seeking that kind of experience. If you're looking for a serious relationship, there are individual who are also seeking that kind of experience. (To be fair, there are less individuals looking for marriage than services such as Match.com, but that is primarily due to the fact that Tinder is geared toward Millennials, of whom the majority are not of average marrying age.) 

What did shock me in my Tinder exploration was how ridiculous some of the profiles could be. So I started screen-shotting the crazy biographies of individuals and photoshopping the biography over the individual's face. This showed the absurdity with which we conduct ourselves online, providing a critical look at how we present ourselves to potential partners. (Is 'Time for some ranch!' really a biography that would give someone insight into who you are??) 

Peacocks spread their feathers and have mating calls. Human beings write things like, "Sure, I'll fist you," in an attempt to woo the opposite sex. We're a weird bunch, us humans, but we're making it work. 

Untitled (Pornography) rocking its new space on the wall at Repair the World

But the exhibition's opening reception was insane. I have been so, so fortunate to have found such a supportive group of friends, family, peers, colleagues, creatives in Pittsburgh. The space was filled with them. The whole night was just overflowing with love and support. I had friends there who were my very first models, friends who have held me during the tears, friends who forced me to see new perspectives, friends who pushed me in new directions, friends who photographed me, who challenged me, inspired me, encouraged me, loved me, supported me. It was absolutely overwhelming and incredible to have felt so much love from so many people through my final hoo-rah in this city. 

I didn't take pictures all night. In fact, I left my phone in a bag during the opening reception. So I got to spend quality time with my people and just exist with them, relish in them, you know? There were a few photographs that float around now, but these are just a few of the folks that have been vital to my sanity and growth as an artist and a human being. 

Forever grateful to you all, thank you thank you thank you. It is through my friends and family that any of this was ever possible. 

Untitled (Pornography) hanging in Repair the World, its new permanent home - WOHOO!

Woah, seriously. Some of these people came from Indiana, PA or Arizona to see this show, these beautiful humans.

Tom (parent A), me, and Patrice (parent B) in front of Untitled (Pornography)

Alden Roth (extraordinary filmmaker and top shelf boyfriend) and me

Jaron (model extraordinaire and pizza connoisseur) and me in front of Love in the Digital Age

Emily Lauber (dedicated activist and nerdy engineer) and me 

Senior Thesis Exhibition : A Review

The thirteen BFA candidates from Point Park University presented XIII, an exhibition of senior thesis work, this past weekend. The exhibition was the culmination of nine months of rigorous work, showcasing the visual representation of hours of research and dedicated artistic practices. 

My work, Untitled (Pornography), focused on the consistent fetishizing of race through pornography. Mass media has habitually demonstrated a preference for white women, and this pattern has integrated itself into contemporary dating habits. My research focused on this phenomenon with particular concentration on online dating.  

The majority of pornographic viewers tend not to discuss their pornographic preferences with partners, friends, or family members due to the stigmatized nature of pornography. This body of work is an attempt to facilitate a dialogue about the kind of media individuals are consuming and how that media shapes their individual preferences.

On OkCupid.com, an online dating service, race can be a filter used to eliminate potentially unwanted races from a user’s individualized dating pool. According to research published by OkCupid, this process has been unfavorable to women of color, specifically black women. Shockingly, nearly 82% of “non-black male users” displayed a bias against black women.  

Without open discussions on race and sexual preference, how can we begin to understand our own subtle preferences? 

The below video does a great job of explaining the sexual stereotypes and how that can become integral to our understand of another's 'sexiness' through their race. (Great job by MTV to work on decoding these stereotypes!) 

As we move forward, I hope that this work can bring a thoughtful dialogue to its viewers about their own biases, media consumption, and pornographic preferences. Extensive psychological research exists for each of these areas, but until we start recognizing our individual preferences, we will be at a loss for a bettered understanding of our own complexities. 

A huge thank you to the Globe, which featured me in an article about the exhibition: 

“My work is about pornography,” Harley said. “It’s analyzing the skin tones in pornography, specifically that race in pornography is fetishized and not considered normal.”

Harley has conducted thorough research on this topic. After a breakup in August, she decided to try the dating app called Tinder. She quickly realized that men often viewed her as just a sexual object and began researching their thought process. She began collaging men’s Tinder photos with their online biographies.

“The more strips I was looking at, I realized that the colors I was looking at were all one skin tone,” Harley said.

Harley also referenced a free online dating site called OkCupid. The website allows users to filter by race. The website found that nearly 82 percent of non-black male users displayed bias against black women. 

“I went to Smithfield News and bought a ton of variety packs,” Harley said. “There was one that was the Playboy Worlds, and even then there wasn’t a black woman in the entire thing.”

She took her research and idea of collaging and turned it into her thesis project. Harley combined three canvas panels to create one large image.

“I cut a bunch of squares of skin tones out from these pornographic magazines, and I did a gradient from lightest to darkest,” Harley said. “The darkest are actually just folds of skin, or where there is no light. It’s not actually a darker skin tone.”

Harley hopes to start a dialogue about the types of pornography people are watching, and how this discrimination is being portrayed in mass media. After graduation, she will attend grad school at Parsons School of Design in Manhattan, New York City. 

The full article can be seen here. 

Detail image from Untitled (Pornography) at XIII at the Mine Factory

Installation of the work surrounded by talented artists Abigail Wright (far left), Neil Curran (right of Untitled (Pornography)), and Ryan Maine (far right).

And I'd be remiss not to thank my incredible support network, who have carried me through this journey. My friends and family have been such spectacular co-authors of this work, and I'm forever grateful for the countless critiques, abundant love, the nights spent watching Netflix or eating the College Special from Geneoa's Pizzeria. They've helped me sort the squares used for this project (special loving goes out to Julianne Griffith, Ren Rathbone, Dane Hager, Ryan Maine, Michelle Montana). They've laughed at the absurdity and told me my work is terrible (special shoutout to Alex Papke, who gave me my first truly painful critique). They've been there to help both the good stuff and the bad stuff be made, and I'm forever grateful to have such a spectacular group of creatives to call my friends. They've been vital to my artistic and human growth, which, over the past year, has been astronomical, and it is thanks to the community I found at Point Park. Love always. 

Next up : a solo exhibition at Repair the World - Hope to see you at the opening reception, which will be Friday, May 20th, 2016 from 6:00 - 9:00 pm in East Liberty, Pittsburgh, PA. 

Progress Update

A large majority of my work revolves around contemporary perceptions of intimacy, and as I tried to gain a better understanding of the heterosexual male (something I worked on heavily in August), I began exploring pornographic magazines. These magazines and shared many themes and elements that have, over time, integrated themselves into intimate situations. I began doing significant research for my thesis paper and discovered that these themes, when not dissected and discussed, can lead to harmful situations for individuals. 

One of these themes was the wide spread consistency with which white people were presented in the magazines: exclusively with other white people. This struck me. I was buying variety pack porn magazines.. Shouldn't that have given me a wide range of skin tones, a representation of the audience and the population? 

In short, apparently not. I could get other races and skin tones if I searched for fetish magazines, a concept that I found highly disturbing. So I begun collaging the pornography in a way that highlighted this one dimensional gradient in the hopes of shedding light on an important media issue. 

I've included my artist statement below in the hopes of better presenting the work. For now, all I have are in progress shots, a million time lapses that I plan on compiling at the end of the project, and a plan for the installation. 

This work will be hung at the Mine Factory on April 23rd - May 3rd. Please join us for an opening reception from 6:00 - 9:00 on April 23rd! 

Untitled (Pornography) analyzes the variety of skin tones in non-fetish pornographic magazines, which is representative of the mass media’s racial preferences. There is a significant correlation between this lack of diversity in media and the American individual’s racial preferences in romantic and sexual partners.

On OkCupid.com, an online dating service, race can be a filter used to eliminate potentially unwanted races from a user’s individualized dating pool. According to research published by OkCupid, this process has been unfavorable to women of color, specifically women of African descent. Shockingly, nearly 82% of “non-black male users” displayed a bias against black women.

These racial issues are prevalent in and spurred on by contemporary pornography’s portrayal of race. These panels reflect nearly 20 different pornographic magazines that have been destroyed and reconfigured to show the limited range of skin tones in pornographic media.

The Fix's Juried Exhibition

Last weekend, the Fix hosted our first Juried Show: An Exploration of Conceptual Art, which was juried and curated by David Oresick, the Director of the Silver Eye Center, and Jessica Beck, the associate curator of the Andy Warhol Museum.

This exhibition, now slated to be an annual event, lived in my mind as this unrealistic dream just a few months ago. But thanks to the help of April Friges, one of Point Park University's dedicated professors, the staff of the Fix, and Point Park University, we were able to create an exhibition that showcased some of the best conceptual work that this photo program has created. It was my last significant contribution to the Fix before I bid my farewell, handing over the prolific organization to Sean Eaton and the new staff.

There were 47 pieces from 16 artists, selected and carefully curated by Oresick and Beck. These pieces ranged from a Kaylin Herzer's rephotographic essay exploring loss to my own collaged pornography (sorry, Mom) to Neil Curran's silver gelation abstractions. We awarded 'Best of Show' scholarship awards - scholarships!! - to three artists, one of which was considered the winner while the other two recieved 'honorable mentions'. All three received scholarship money for their inspiring work. 

From left to right, winners Morgan Richards, juror Jessica Beck, Nicole Fritz, and Kaylin Herzer
Photo by Dominique Hildebrand

We even created a catalogue, whose cover can be seen here and bought on Blurb. This beautiful catalogue, featuring each artist's work, was created by the constantly impressive Julianne Griffith, the Fix's senior layout editor. 

Emily Bennet, a reporter for Point Park's weekly newspaper, The Globe, wrote a wonderful article detailing the experience of the artists and the exhibition in an article that was published this week. Read the full article here. Trust me, you'll be glad you did. But here's a small excerpt from her story, which involved an immense amount of interviews:

“I put it together. The students came to me and said they wanted to do a juried show, and I told them, ‘Okay!’ [Harley] did a great job of getting it all together and sequencing the work,” Friges said. “I’m mainly the students’ puppet. They have a vision, and all I do is try to support them and help them get experience. This experience is something they can’t learn in the classroom.” 

Photographs by Julianne Griffith

I can't begin to thank the individuals who came to the show, who supported each artist, who helped us each step of the way. I was overwhelmed with the amount of love that poured out of my friends and family.. It was incredible. I think I spent the entire three hours hugging people and I still wasn't able to give out nearly enough gratitude. My friends, my loving, loving friends, braved snowy conditions and a long line for a shuttle to trek out to this exhibition. I'm so lucky to be surrounded by these individuals, who are constantly encouraging me and loving me. 

Words continue to fail me to begin to thank everyone who came to the exhibition... There is just so much love in this world, and I can't believe how much of it I get to experience. All thanks to these folks.

Look at my parents! Look at them!! I know I brag about them a lot, but I really am one of the most fortunate artists to have such supportive parents who come to my show, even though all I'm showing is collage pornography. Thanks, Mom and Dad. You're cool.

Patty!!! My former roommate who is bursting with life and love, unbelievably kind and generous. On Instagram, she showered me with compliments, just a small example of the out pouring of love that she constantly showers me with: My BEAUTIFUL friend Hannah is such an incredible talent! Her work and the meaning behind it speaks such volumes. Her passion and drive is going to create waves throughout this world. I love YOU dearly, Hannah! 

My current roommates, the love bugs. (Two were missing due to prior engagements.) What a year it has been living with these strong and gorgeous women. They have been so instrumental in making me sane enough to be a part of these types of activities. Love you all for always. Thank you. 

This goon brings me pizza when I'm stressed and has modeled for me more times than I can count. He's saved my butt and kicked it into gear on many occasions. Thank you for being you. His Instagram post called me talented and ambitious and hot, so he's obviously a great complimenter too. Love you, Jaron. 

And the hundreds of people who I didn't get pictures with.. The people who have loved me and helped me all along this journey.. I am so grateful for you. Sorry I was too busy hugging you to get a picture. As per usual.. 

In just a few short months, I'll be (probably) leaving Point Park, saying goodbye to a university and a program that have encouraged me in a multitude of ways. It's nice to know that even when I've left, there will be something to help encourage the future students of this photography program. It's not yet time for goodbye, but it'll be a long transition out of this spectacular place I call home. 

Thankful for a university that lets me indulge my craziest ideas.. Here's to wild ideas that turn into reality! 

The tear down the next day.. The calm after the storm

A Farewell to the Fix

Since January 2015, I have been filling any extra time I have with the Fix, Point Park University's fine art magazine. I've been acting as the founding co-editor with a variety of responsibilities - mostly fulfilling the requirements of a vacant Editor-in-Chief position. It's been a whirlwind of a year, sprinkled with chaotic moments, both blissful and stressful. 

Over the past month, the Fix has been undergoing some exciting transitions, as each of our senior members stepped down, as planned, to focus their time and energy on their senior thesis projects. This non traditional timeline in a student organization is to ease the incoming staff into their first issue while the soon-to-be graduating seniors are able to mentor through the transition. 

This process, the handing off of the torch if you will, got me thinking about the origins of the organization just one year ago.. 

Over winter break in 2014, Ryan Maine drove from Punxsutawney, PA to Indiana, PA to discuss this new, crazy idea he had (and catch up after my four months abroad). We got coffee and talked for hours about what we could possibly do with this vague concept of a magazine dedicated to publishing the work of Point Park's fine art photographers. 

When we returned, we begged people, occasionally forcefully, to show up to our first meeting. A small group of people showed up, confused but enthusiastic, and we were ecstatic. We immediately began work on what would become the Portrait Issue. 

Now, one year later, this organization has grown from a hopeful little magazine publication to a media entity, including a prolific podcast, a fine tuned website, a juried exhibition, and a multitude of social media accounts, and a magazine teamed by an enormous and hardworking staff. We calculated it out, and with each issue of the Fix, over 40 individuals are collaborating to make it a possibility. 

Newly elected Senior Photo Editor Hannah Altman leads the group in the first pitch meeting of 2016

That's a big deal. That's a really big deal. Especially when you factor in that when we've graduated a total of just eighteen students in the last two years. We're a little program. We're a little school. But we've routinely gotten these students to pour their creative efforts and talents into this organization. So much so that they have outgrown the original idea. And that's so impressive.

I'm not really sure how to say goodbye to an organization that has meant so much to me over the past year.. But before I head out and say my final farewell to this incredible organization, I hope to give it a whirl and offer one last thought for the staff, which I shared just a few days ago on the Fix's website: 

For the hours, for the tears, for racking your brain searching for commas, for navigating Google Drive, for re-reading sentences, for writing nonstop, for meeting deadlines, for laying out beautiful pieces, for recording and editing podcasts, for your efficiency and enthusiasm, for your creativity, your flexibility, your inclusion, your support, for your dedication to a vague idea, for your patience, I am grateful. 

And as you head into this vast unknown, I have no doubts that what you will accomplish in the coming months and years will far surpass what we have accomplished this year. Continue to be patient with each other. Be loving and kind to your fellow creatives. It is only with each other that any of this can be accomplished. 

Thank you for this past year.. What a ride it has been.

Ryan Maine, founding Editor-in-Chief (Jan 2015 - May 2015), and me on his windowsill - June 2014
Photograph by Hannah Jones

Me and Julianne Griffith, the Senior Layout Editor who has made this magazine look so pretty for so long, at the Conflict Issue's launch party

Me and Sean Eaton, the new Editor-in-Chief, with the catalogue at the first annual juried show

With warm affection and unending pride, 

Hannah Harley
Former Co-Editor, Content Coordinator (January 2015 - January 2016)

2015: A Year in Review

Looking back, it's tough to really analyze the past year with any semblance of objectivity. Having ended the year uplifted and overjoyed, it's tough to remember the numbing pain of last January. So here's the recap you have not asked for, month by month, little snippets of an impressively complicated year. 

From the Wandering Three road trip -- time to rejoice in life WOHOO

January -  April  
Fresh from Paris and eager to see my friends again, I spent the first month of 2015 busy with social engagements, reconnecting with dear friends and spending time with my loving family. It started off beautifully, but as time wore on, my reverse culture shock continued to overwhelm me. I felt like an outsider, a foreigner, unwanted and unwelcome, in my own home country. It was not an easy first month. I then dove into schoolwork and softball will zeal, hopeful to shake my funk. I wasn't producing much work, but I was gaining little tidbits of information that would later help me with a variety of projects.

I began working on Table Manners, which became a four month process of interviews and research, culminating in a series of photographs that began to excite me. For the first time since my final project for Intro to Black and White, I felt like I was creating something important. Maybe it wasn't an important statement for anyone else, but it was screaming from within me to express these stories, to give them some sort of life outside of our own inner dialogue. It was the start of a type of exploration that really began to change me and shape me in ways that I still cannot explain. 

I battled back from a semester of almost no softball or strength conditioning in Paris to be a KIAC All-Conference pitcher for the second year in a row. This sport has a habit of beating you up and spitting you out. I came close to tears during after hours workouts and pitching lessons, knowing that I wasn't game ready, knowing how far I still had to go. But I screamed (often literally) through the pain and it paid off. 

Photo by Haley Wisniewsk

May - August
In May, following a devastating playoff defeat, my restlessness took me on a cross-country road trip, which culminated in 10,000 miles and 22 days in a car with two other female artists, who happened to be my teammates as well. The experience was exhausting and enlightening. I learned more about myself in those 22 days than I have in any psychology course (and I've taken quite a few). And I've always known that travel is the best way to get know someone, but I just didn't know that I had the capacity to learn so much about myself. It was a beautiful and daunting experience. I blogged, photographed, explored everyday. And it breathed a vibrancy into me while simultaneously draining me. My body was exhausted when we got back, but my mind was on fire, ready for a crazy summer semester. 

Thank you, Yellowstone, for being such a cool, cool place

When I got back to Pittsburgh, I was already behind on a 24 credit summer. I had an internship with Pittsburgh Magazine, an internship with CEA (the organization with which I studied abroad) and a job as an orientation leader sprinkled between the hours of class. Despite this chaos, I somehow managed to be blissfully happy during this time. I was living with some of the most spectacular humans I've ever known, joyfully bustling around, busy with exciting projects and intellectual pursuits that kept igniting a part of me.. It all hindered my social calendar though and constantly put strain on my romantic relationship, which ended once the semester did.

Some of the orientation leader crew!!

In late July, I went to Minnesota with my Grandma Dorcas and my sister. We read, we canoed, we fished (with little success). In a house with no television or real cell service, we delighted in the little things and in each other. It was beautiful to see my grandmother so happy, so contented with her little cabin on the lake.

Grandma Dorcas at the Lake Cabin, Tonseth, MN

From there, I traveled to New York City to have a reunion with my Paris family. We all met there and mocked in its stupid subway system (no comparison to the Paris metro) and ate far more food than we should've. To say that I have missed these folks is a gross understatement. They were vital to my existence in Paris (and Italy and Belgium). Literally, they fed me when I didn't understand the terms of my French bank account or left my wallet on a metro. But they also provided conversation and almost constant encouragement to go see a new part of Paris and the world. New York was no different with these kiddos. Pizza in little Italy after a day of museum exploration with your best friends.. Doesn't get much better than that. I was high on life, happy to be so close to so many of my loved ones.

Mah Paris crew (minus Hanan..), how beautiful are all of these humans??

August - December
Surviving the fall semester, another 24 credit experience, was honestly a little bit of a miracle. I survived the 24 credits, yeah. But I did so while binge watching shows on Netflix, making regular social engagements, creating a massive collection of personal projects, dating (often unsuccessfully), completing a dark brunette to white blonde transformation at home, playing softball, nourishing and terminating an addiction to coffee, and somehow, still managing to run The Fix. I felt like I was in a dream-like state all the time. I was positively euphoric. I was creating more work than I have ever created. My idea journal is bursting with unrealized ideas that were constantly bombarding me. It was incredible. 

I hung my first show and curated The Weak Sex. The Fix beat me up, tore me down, and provided me with constant inspiration. The collaborative spirit of Point Park photography community continues to overwhelm me with support.. And this fall made me grateful to be able to collaborate with this incredible bunch of humans. That magazine was far more stressful than any other single thing I did this semester, but it was far more rewarding too.

By December, I had decided I wanted to go to graduate school, so I went to New York City and Boston for ten days to explore schools. I was so wiped from the semester that I spent much of my time looking for new places to sit down and relax. There are draw backs to a semester in hyperdrive.. I did get to explore each city with an amazing companion, and immediately loved the experiences. The museums were second to none, and more than once, I was able to lose myself in works and all the spiritual existence that occupies the space. It was remarkable. 

MoMA always amazes me.. (Even when I only take iPhone pictures of it)

And then as quickly as it all came, I was celebrating Christmas with my family. The whirlwind of a year had come down to a few short days of reflection.. 

Photo by one of my most loved friends, the ever talented Michelle Montana

2015 was a fearless year for me. I pushed the envelope beyond what I ever thought possible, created works that still terrify me, and allowed myself the freedom of nearly unrestrained visual expression. It was an exciting year, filled with triumphs and countless failures. And I hope, in the year to come, that I fail more spectacularly than I ever have and that I learn to embrace this painful but vital process. 

Here's a toast to 2016 and spectacular failures! 

The Importance of Not Taking Photographs

Almost daily, I encounter someone who photographs for the sole purpose of posting on Instagram. They revel in layering filters and spend hours coming up with the perfect caption with accompanying hashtags. They walk briskly around scenes, attempting to capture the golden evening light in a square format. I'd be a complete hypocrite if I acted like I hadn't done it all before. Or even that I haven't done it today. 

But I was able to pause this holiday season and think it through. I was wondering how to get that perfect "my Christmas was absolutely flawless, obviously" shot, and I realized that this type of thinking completely removes us from these important moments. 

Believe it or not, digital photography and Instagram, are actually changing the way our minds log memories. In a 2013 study, individuals were found to have a worse memory of an event when they were photographing it than when they were simply experiencing it. (A fascinating article on the impairing effects of photography on the mind can be found here.) In an effort to preserve that moment forever, we are losing ourselves in the process. We, you and me, are becoming less present for these experiences. 

And while I love a good Hudson filter and the affirmation that my photographs are good enough to warrant so many likes, I don't believe that we think about this self removal process that is inherent in photography as much as we should. We are Snapchatting constantly, Instagramming daily, and yet, our memories are slipping away from us. 

So this Christmas, I didn't photograph. I didn't take a picture on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Instead of worrying about aperture and composition, I was worried about keeping my grandma supplied with coffee, keeping my dogs out of the ham soup, and beating the beejees out of my cousins in cards. In thirty years, maybe I won't remember this Christmas very well and it'll blend in with all the other years of filtered photographs and forgotten snapchats.

But maybe.. Just maybe, I'll be able to remember what it felt like to be surrounded by uncapturable goodness and unending love. 

Happy Holidays, my dear friends. I hope yours was filled with memories that have become a part of you. 

Updates and Upgrades

In my last works in progress update, I discussed the prolific fall semester and the bodies of work I had begun. As I continue with these projects, I find myself constantly lamenting that no body of work could ever truly be 'finished'. And as DaVinci once said, "Art is never finished, only abandoned." 

But in order to present bodies of work that are more holistic of my style, I have edited and updated the Projects portion of the website. In doing so, I have removed the following bodies of work from this website: Perception of Perfection, The Wandering Three, Fondation Louis Vuitton, Surrealist Landscapes, Self Portraits. As you can see, the updated series (Table Manners, Between Here and There, Portraits of Ex-Lovers, Love in the Digital Age, and the Uncomfortable Piece) are more refined and conceptual bodies of works, and they reflect the work I have been creating these past four months and the work I hope to create in the future.. Wohoo!

While I have thoroughly enjoyed creating these images, I think that they, while properly technically executed, do not express potent or powerful ideas. I have come to love the role of art in changing an individual's perception of their own existence, and I felt as though these past series did not provide that introspection that I have come to cherish from conceptual bodies of work. 

As I move forward and into 2016, I am collaborating with one of my friends, who is a performer and poet, to dissect body dysmorphia and society's social standards that are infiltrating our internal monologues, which have created negative psychological effects. I am also continuing an existing project focusing on my grandmother. An incredibly personal body of work, I am merely trying to gain access to her brain as she grapples with the constant changes associated with aging. I cherish her beyond words and am interviewing her and collecting information in this documentary way, hoping to eventually create a multimedia piece. I mean.. How do you bring this impressive personality into one singular experience? I know I can never do her justice, but I hope to bring her to you, in some small way.  

Thank you, as always, for stopping by and reading the blog! Don't forget to subscribe!

The Uncomfortable Piece

On December 6th, I was fortunate enough to participate in my first performance piece, a collaboration I took on with the incredibly talented Ren Rathbone. The evening was coordinated by Carnegie Mellon University's MFA program and Neu Kirche Contemporary Art Center, and it proved to be an immensely rewarding and powerful evening.

Our piece, entitled The Uncomfortable Piece, was a performative collaboration between two female bodied artists. The piece began with Harley and Rathbone entering the stage topless, with digital cameras in hand, remaining motionless while blankly staring forward. The two then walked from the stage, in silence, and into the audience. The artists then began photographing each audience member, one by one, over the course of three minutes.

The piece aimed to showcase the audience’s forced reaction to female toplessness and to their reaction to unwillingly becoming the subject of the piece. The interaction of audience members and the artists allowed for playful, thoughtful, and even panicked exchanges, bringing forth the complexities of society’s thoughts on female toplessness and visual documentation.

The following images are a product of that performance. (Photographs by Hannah Harley)

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Personally, this performance marks an enormous step into a medium that has long fascinated me. While I would wish to be as emotionless as possible in the presentation of this work, I simply cannot. This project was extremely powerful for me. In recent years, I have come to understand that the correlation between nudity and individuality have, in fact, no correlation. To stand before another being, raw and upfront about my own physical condition.. It is a powerful proposition that I am far more complex, more intricate than my physical body. That no matter how I exist physically, even despite society's intense restrictions on the 'proper' female body, I am more.

I am far more.

Works in Progress Report

     These past few months have been some of the most prolific creative months of my life. I have continued work on Love in the Digital Age, Homicide, and the untitled body of work involving collaged pornography. I have begun several new series that are all untitled with the exception of Portraits of My Ex-Lovers. I have also been fortunate to see two more issues of The Fix come to fruition, which has been a whirlwind of collective collaborations. (See the cover below and guess what! You can purchase those issues here.) I'm excited to finally share some of these works in progress, even though they are all far from finished. 

The Fix Cover - The Experimental Issue
Hannah Altman, after Richard Prince

     Love in the Digital Age premiered at The Weak Sex exhibition, which I wrote about in my last blog post. The most recent installation of this work featured over 60 pieces, which are all compilations of Tinder profiles and their bios. As I continue work on this project, I find it incredibly emotionally draining. While I feel as though this is an important analysis for Tinder users to undergo, I am often slightly dismayed on a very personal level. Perhaps it is just what comes with dating, but it is tough to interact with that as much as I do for this series. 

    Now, it occurs to me that some of you may consider these screenshots to be an invasion of privacy or illegal; however, I present the case of Richard Prince to you. You may not like him, you may even hate him. But his recent screenshots sold for nearly $100,000 each. (Get part of the story here. And check out The Fix's Experimental Issue for an amazing deconstruction of his ethics.) Essentially, under federal United States law, artists are protected from certain copyright laws in order to make social commentary. But, as it always is with the arts, it is often a grey area, left to interpretation. 

     Homicide is a series that focuses on Pittsburgh's rising death toll, one that the majority of Pittsburgh residents have become complacent with. As a reaction to the 93 homicides that have taken place this year (as of November 22nd, 2015), I have been photographing the landscapes of the homicide scenes with my large format camera. This antiquated process forces me to spend time in these communities, and often, in small ways, grieve for this systemic problem that is ripping individuals from our community. I have thus far kept the images analog, but as the series grows, I plan to bring them into the digital realm. 

    Untitled (Pornography) is coming along quite nicely. I have been experimenting with a variety of techniques and tools, which most recently led to the collage below. I am really drawn to making these commercialized pornographic images become beautiful representations of the sexual experience, as opposed to the often degrading experiences that these images tend to represent. 

     Portraits of My Ex-Lovers (alternatively titled: Forever Ago) is a new collaborative series I have been working on with the assistance of my ex-lovers. I realized that my senior thesis work was studying the affects of pornography on intimacy, Table Manners analyzed etiquette in sexual situations, and Love in the Digital Age toyed with the experiences of people attempting to establish intimacy in some form. But I noticed a growing trend: I was focusing on these societal issues without looking at how they were influencing me on a personal level. So I decided to contact my ex-lovers in an attempt to understand the most influential factor in my own perception of intimacy, especially these emotional and romantic experiences.

    What exactly qualifies an individual as an 'ex-lover'? I am still figuring out the exact details of my own definition, but I can attest that I have found that, by asking countless individuals in the past few months, everyone has a different definition. Everyone puts their own experiences, their own perceptions on the very definition. So while I qualify these individuals, perhaps you do not. But that's okay. This is all objective. But for those of you literal folks, 'lover' is defined by Dictionary.com as "a person having a sexual or romantic relationship with someone, often outside marriage", but UrbanDictionary.com defines it as "somebody that you love, and especially in the romantic/sexual sense. A sweetheart... Lovers provide emotional support, shelter in a storm."

     While the majority of my observations will be entered into a much larger post, I will say that I have been blown away by the support and genuine kindness that has radiated from these individuals. I figured that there would be a lot of confusion and concern for where this project would go, how I portray them, but by and large, these individuals passionately agreed to the proposition without hesitation. There were a couple of individuals that will not participate in this project out of respect for their current partners, which is completely understandable, but these exes still offered an overwhelming amount of encouragement and support for this particular series. As of today, only one individual declined to be photographed, which, of course, is completely understandable. This is an extremely vulnerable experience on both ends, and I would never want to have someone participate if they were even remotely uncomfortable. 

    But this outpouring of encouragement, support, enthusiasm has made me realize how much love and respect was exchanged in these experiences.. And even now, weeks, months, years later, there is love - not in this big, grandiose, romantic, all consuming love, but a lingering caring love, one of kindness and gentleness.

   For that and the individuals who have made this possible, I am grateful beyond words.
 

Four Months Ago, 2015
Hannah Harley 

One Month Ago, 2015
Hannah Harley

One Year and Four Months Ago, 2015
Hannah Harley

One Year and Ten Months Ago, 2015
Hannah Harley

    Untitled (Contemporary Domesticity) - I have long been fascinated with this great shift in domesticity that is happening and has been happening for decades. Domesticity in the 1950s feels incredibly cut and dry: dresses and high heels in the kitchen, women busying themselves with arbitrary household tasks to try to forget the general boredom that constantly consumed them. Okay, that's a far too harsh critique. But I'll be honest: I am interested in this lost ideal because I quite simply cannot imagine for myself or understand it. I can barely get stains out of shirts without at least Googling it or calling my mom. Last month, I ate shell fish that was a month and a half old.. I thought it would be fine. As it turns out, the shelf life of shell fish is quite short. I only wear dark clothing so that I can do them all in one load. I am, by and large, a fumbling 21 year old, lost without the wisdom of the internet and my poor mother, who has listened to far too many tales of my failed domesticity.. So how did these women understand the complexities of cooking, cleaning, children all while having perfectly coiffed hair and wearing high heels, the most common torture tool for women? And what does the contemporary woman look like in comparison as she blindly searches for something to wash down seven week old shellfish?? 

     For this, I started with a concept of setting these scenes up with models (thank you, Ayla and Jaron) in a way that encompassed my understanding of the current domesticity: an absurd amount of disposed Starbucks cups, Miller Lite, and blank looks of people in in-genuine poses, a reflection of our surface level experiences.. While I liked this work, it felt out of place as a black and white image. I shot it with my 4x5 camera, a bulky beast for which color film would cost me roughly $70 for 10 images. So I transferred to digital for a couple self portraits. 

Untitled, 2015
iPhone photograph of a darkroom print from 4x5 negative
Hannah Harley

    There's an evolution to each body of work, but rarely do I publicly share this process. But as I continue to seek direction in this series, perhaps it is even more important to begin to sharing the work, more earnestly gathering feedback and direction.

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Untitled Self Portraits, 2015
Hannah Harley

To quote Leonardo, "Art is never finished, only abandoned."

    Untitled (In Between Here and There) - The last series I'll discuss today tries to encapsulate the experience of moving, of being in the act of traveling, of actively pursuing a new place. As I continue to shoot this project from my moving car, I have been increasingly interested in the act of traveling as a proponent/signifier of a psychological pursuit more-so than a purely physical pursuit. The difficult part of this body of work is editing it down. It has been a bit of an editing and sequencing nightmare.. But fortunately, I have a few colleagues who are enthusiastic editors, removed from the emotional connection that I have with the images, and we are working together to edit the constantly increasing body of work. 

Untitled (Between Here and Bellingham, MA), 2015
Hannah Harley

Untitled (Between Here and Hollywood, CA), 2015
Hannah Harley

    This series has allowed me to go through the body of work that came from The Wandering Three expedition, reconceptualizing a whole slew of images. It has bene challenging, but thus far, quite entertaining to go back through the photographs. 

    Well, folks, as Thanksgiving rolls around, know that I am grateful for your time, your support, and your friendship. As always, thank you for stopping by. Until next time, Happy Thanksgiving! 

The Weak Sex Exhibition

   Last weekend, my most recent curatorial experience, The Weak Sex exhibition, opened in a spectacular fashion. The 24 hours before the show was an exhaustive effort to hang the show and redirect our traffic to our new space. Our original location, a gallery at Point Park University, became questionable just 24 hours before the show. The artists’ fiery passion and enthusiasm inspired us to continue with the show.

    So on Saturday, November 14th at 5:56 pm, we hung our last nail, opened our doors, and welcomed the first of the night’s guests. For the next three hours, the space continued to play host to an increasingly large crowd.

    The exhibition opened with our group photograph, a promotional material that was quite fun to produce. These women are powerful, and by showing us in this stance, with this lighting, with these words, we challenge your ideas about femininity at the very start.

    The curator’s statement, as seen below, then corresponded on the opposing with our individual portraits.

The Weak Sex: Analyzing the Role of Women in the 21st Century

The experiences expressed here attempt to redefine womanhood by challenging contemporary society’s influence over self-image, sexual intimacy, and gender identity. These artists directly attack a hierarchy that has quieted and subdued female expression by departing from a traditional notion of femininity.

The Weak Sex is a limited viewpoint of four artists articulating the complexities of womanhood. These four artists have a dedicated history of being discontent at the inequality that has long haunted the femme existence. These artists boldly analyze the significant experiences that have come to define them as individuals and as women.     

The gallery then opened up with Ren Rathbone’s Reflex/Reflects series, which can be seen in a digital format here. Their work dissects human reactions to menstruation, body image, and rape by challenging the viewer to be uncomfortable and to question that emotional experience. For this show, Rathbone photographed vials of their menstrual blood with found objects in their Perspective series. These images were hung in the bathroom, where Hannah Altman had installed a piece about the female’s morning routine.

Ren Rathbone
The Giving and Receiving of Head, 2014 

    Hannah Altman, known internationally for her And Everything Nice series, showcased her more recent work. These images focus on the female form and the interaction of it in a space. Altman’s works analyze female psychology and desexualizes the female form. She recently participated in one of the most acclaimed DIY art exhibitions of the summer: How To. Images from that show can be viewed here.

Hannah Altman
Untitled, 2015

    Blue Velvet, one of Michelle Montana’s series, looks at the innocence of sleeping next to someone without the socially inherent idea that to sleep with someone is necessarily sexual. This series was presented in the intimacy of the bedroom, with blue velvet cloth draping over the bed, where Ren Rathbone’s images of their rapist were situated. Montana also presented work which she created exclusively for this exhibition: Mirror Mirror. In creating this series, Montana invited female artists to interact with a mirror using paint, eggs, knives, hairspray, lipstick, etc. By photographing these individuals, Montana documented the struggling relationship between women and their reflections.

Michelle Montana
Untitled, 2015

    My own work surrounded romantic and sexual intimacy, as if often does. I showed Love in the Digital Age, which is a case study of modern dating through the bios and profile pictures of Tinder users, Table Manners, which analyzes sexual etiquette and boundaries, and The Hidden Factor, in which I collaged pornography in an attempt to better understand media’s influence on intimacy and human interaction.

Table Manners installation, The Weak Sex exhibition 2015
Photo by Michelle Montana

Hannah Altman's installation, The Weak Sex exhibition, 2015
Photo by Michelle Montana

    For me, it felt like a dream: There were people I had never met, spending time looking at and analyzing the exhibition. These messages, these personal themes that these artists quietly explored visually were now publicly displayed, to be dissected by whoever walked in the door. How cool is that? And how terrifying is that? It is by and large considered to be slightly childish to express this emotional and heartfelt reaction to a very professional experience. To be considered professional, so often we are encouraged this detachment. But how are you supposed to maintain this professionalism when your passion feels as though it is exploding out of you?

    It was an amazing experience for me. I was overwhelmed with the support, the love, and the creative energy in the space.. Words fail me, as they often do. But to each person that made it to the opening, thank you. 

Photo by Michelle Montana

   As my undergraduate years come to an end, the importance of creative collaboration has continuously increased in importance. The other three artists in this exhibition have inspired me long before the concept for The Weak Sex was created, and it was such a privilege to collaborate with these incredible individuals. Let's do it again sometime. 

Lessons from Paris

As most of you know, I studied in Paris, France during the fall semester of my junior year. In those short four months, I forged the closest friendships, looked at more art than I thought possible, and fell in love with the little things. I spent hours in cafes, roaming those cobblestone streets, growing from the terrified individual who feared the simplest task to someone who had learned to revel in the difficulties of each day. 

My first day involved hours and hours of hesitantly analyzing the restaurant seating protocol while trying to gather the courage to enter an establishment. Intense hunger forced me to overcome my fears, and I finally forced myself inside of a small cafe situated on the Butte Montmartre. The waitress asked me many questions, to which I smiled. I fumbled over some sad attempt at pronunciation, ordering a crepe and an espresso. She smiled with soft sympathy, beholding the pathetic little American seated in front of her. 

I knew, sitting in solitude and terror in that little cafe, that this journey was going to teach me. 

Lesson 1: Swallow your pride. 

You will spend the better part of your time abroad making a complete fool of yourself. You will accidentally order a chocolate cat when you meant to ask for a hot chocolate. You might make mistakes that have legal consequences, so learn to beg a little bit. When swallowing your pride, note that America, while it may be your home country, is not necessarily the best country nor is it well liked or particularly good at anything. Typically, the French do not drink coffee on the go. At first, I was quite horrified. Um, excuse you. The metro seems like the perfect place to sip on that joe. No, no. The French take their time with their coffee, often nursing a cup of espresso for hours. Over time, sitting in a cafe for far too long became one of my favorite things, particularly since it only had to cost the price of an espresso. C'est parfait. 

Lesson 2: Be open. 

I wish I could pretend that I went abroad with an open mind. I thought I was open minded. I was ready for new experiences and new art, but I was shut off. I didn't want new friends. I liked my old ones just fine. I didn't want to be burdened with the embarrassing task of practicing French. I wanted baguettes and Impressionist art without the difficulties of making it happen. 

I'll be honest. I was so bitter to be alone when I arrived that I was stand offish and rude to nearly every American I met. These people could not be more different than me. Ugh, who needs these know it alls? I DID. I was terrified that they would reject me. I was so terrified, in fact, that I rejected them before they could get a chance to reject me. And that, my friends, is the stupidest thing you could do when you're in desperate need of friends. So I swallowed my pride (eyyy, lesson 1!) and opened myself up to the vulnerabilities that come with friendship. 

(Sorry you had to go to London for the weekend, Anastasia...)

Those beautiful humans gave me a second chance and I could not be more grateful. After all, I had no one in Paris. I knew no one on the continent. My nearest friend was thousands of miles away. How was I to survive without these people? 

They became my family. We celebrated Thanksgiving together. We traveled through Italy, Spain, Belgium, and Switzerland together. We saw thousands of works of art (and cried about it) together. We got into trouble with the police in Lille, talked philosophy in Florence, experienced an 100x life size uterus in Bern, and danced until 6:00 am in Barcelona... Together. And I love each one of them so dearly. 

So be open to loving, to living, to accepting all of the bad parts of others and to overcoming the bad parts of you. 

It's grainy and blurry and it's the last picture my phone took before it died that night.
And it's the only photo of this little family. 

Lesson 3: Go on adventures. 

When you're sitting in your apartment, looking out at the Eiffel Tower, you automatically think that adventure will come to you. But the reality is that finding adventure is a task, even when you're abroad. So make a list of everything you want to do and everything you want to see and everywhere you want to eat. And make a plan to see as much as you can. 

I knew I wanted to see the museums in Paris. Paris has 153 museums situated within the city limits, and from that list, I made my selections. With almost religious regularity, three times a week, I would travel to a museum, spending time with art work and historical artifacts. By the end of the semester, I had gone on over 100 museum trips. (It also helped that they were almost all free thanks to my student pass and that my friend, Rachel, delighted in the trips as much as I did.) 

Lesson 4: It's okay to stay in. 

When you're expected to go on adventures everyday, you often get caught up in the chaos of it all and get burnt out. (But don't forget to post your #wanderlust picture on Instagram everyday! Everyday!! - But seriously. Do you follow me on Instagram?) If you are abroad for more than two weeks and are not a superhuman, I'd recommend throwing away the guilt that comes with staying in the great indoors and allowing yourself to relax. 

Take some time for you, even when the view looks like this..

You have to give yourself these little personal days. You are, after all, adjusting to immense differences in culture, language, and food. These are not all easy matters. Some days, the struggle of getting a seat in a little cafe seems overwhelmingly daunting. Especially knowing that they'll probably forget about you and leave you there for three hours patiently awaiting a check. Do not make a habit of going to Subway or McDonald's or Starbucks, but allow yourself the small comforts of home when you're getting frazzled. You need to do some things for your mental health and sometimes, that means you stay in your little apartment with an American latte and a Disney movie instead of exploring the nooks and crannies of the Louvre. 

Lesson 5: It's not perfect. And that's what makes it awesome. 

My one friend, Anastasia, described her journal entries to me one night as we were getting drinks. When she first arrived, her journal was filled with joyous descriptions of the cobblestones and the baguettes. But as time wore on, she became bitter that Paris failed to be the ideal city that it has been heralded as. After all, Audrey Hepburn said, "Paris is always a good idea." 

But was Audrey Hepburn's Paris covered in urine? Did the French scoff at her when she fumbled with Euros (or in her case -- Francs)? Was it just because Audrey Hepburn had so much money and could afford the fancy water?? Where is the Paris for the people who can only afford tap water? Is it always a good idea? ALWAYS?

In Perception of Perfect, the photo series that stemmed from my four months in Paris and the subsequent book, I analyzed this experience. This phenomenon, high expectations for a travel destination, is often referred to as Jerusalem Syndrome. People go on these grand trips to experience the picturesque scenery, but what the postcards aren't telling you is that there is still trash on the street, urine on the walls, and overwhelming poverty. But in this work, I wanted to explore the simple truth that the 'bad' elements of any place make it real. I published the book in France with NegatifPlus, and alas, they only print in France. I am currently working on making it available in the United States.  So stay tuned! 

Lesson 6: Re-entry shock is real and it is painful.

When I got back to the states, I was elated with the outpouring of love. My parents and my sister greeted me at Pittsburgh International Airport on Christmas day with an enormous sign that read, "Beinvenue a la maison, (H)anna(h)!!!!" And what a reunion it was. We were hugging, celebrating, snuggling. It was Christmas and it was beautiful. 

Merry Christmas, indeed!!

But as time wore on, I struggled with the adjustments. I returned to Pittsburgh to start my spring semester. My friends, who were so kind to me, listened to me recall tales of Paris... Hours and hours of it, I'm sure. But when their patience had dissipated, I realized that no matter how many hours I spent audibly day dreaming about the experience, I could never fully explain it to them. 

I reached out to my Paris friends, who were struggling with their own adjustments as well. I lamented about the way the toilet flushes and the handles on doors. How was I supposed to get anything done when the nearest bakery was a bus ride away? Where was the fast metro and the chèvre?? 

It was worse than the original culture shock. This was my home. These were my people. This is my culture. And I felt like a foreigner. How do you explain that to people? I busied myself with photography and softball, hopeful that I would feel a sense of belonging again. After all, I had missed four months from these people's lives. Where did I fit in now that it was evident that they were fully capable of enjoying themselves without me? 

It sounds awfully depressing, and it was. I wasn't terribly sad or upset, but I felt like an outsider. I considered going to the counselor at school and begging her to make me a full blooded American again. But over time, my friends surrounded me in love and gave me vibrancy again. 

Lesson 7: You will be changed. Constantly

What I originally failed to understand directly following my return to the United States was that I had changed. I thought that America had gotten more confusing, weirder, scarier. I blamed people and this generation (why, I don't know... I'm part of this generation..?). There was new language that I didn't understand (n fleek??), new dances I couldn't comprehend. I scrambled for a scapegoat. I wanted to pin it on one specific thing that had changed the America I had known and morphed it into this unrecognizable beast. 

But I, foolishly thinking I was nearly the exact same person as I was 6 months ago, needed to come to terms with my own change. 

And that was terrifying and beautiful and I'm still figuring out what it all means. 

To France, 
Thank you for the oppurtunities to make a few thousand mistakes on your turf and for introducing me to amazing people. You forced me to be a better human, and I miss you everyday. 
Much love, as always. 

Photo by Rachel Rioles

*To work with the relaxed nature of this blog post, all images are iPhone photos. (Did you know that National Geographic is sending out photographers with iPhones to capture specific photo series for them?? See Jim Richardson's photo series on the Scottish Highlands here.) 

Ripping, Collaging, Understanding? : Work in Progress

In my last blog post, I discussed my desire to be honest and open about the immensely personal conceptual series that I have been working on. In this process, I fear that some of you may be disappointed in the confessions that must be shared to fully understand the origin of these series. But in order to present these works, I must be entirely open. 

For those of you who may be uncomfortable by this radical honesty: One day, I hope you understand that this is necessary for my continued growth and that it is important for me to continue to explore this discourse. While I understand the potential weariness some of you may have with the personal nature of this work, I cannot apologize for it. I know that it does not fit comfortably into this morality that some of you may consider 'proper'. This may cause some to be overwhelmingly disappointed in my artistic evolution. But, and I cannot stress this enough, this is where my passions lie. 

My most recent project is inspired by my recent entrance into the dating scene. I have been curious about how individuals view potential romantic partners. In particular, I am interested in how the heterosexual male views women. 

We are constantly bombarded by the concept that the heterosexual male is drive, first and foremost, by sexual satisfaction. This is a common stereotype portrayed in both popular media and evolutionary biology. While I cannot pretend to fully understand the complex reasonings of the entire heterosexual male population, I can begin the process. 

In an attempt to better understand this relationship, I bought variety packs of pornographic magazines. By buying these, I hoped to gain some insight into the male gaze. But I struggled to comprehend some of the content. So I began ripping the pages out, out of fear and fury. 

There I was, sitting on my living room floor surrounded by pages and pages, wondering, "Where do I go from here? How can I take this and change it?" 

So I began cutting the pages into strips to collage these close up, erotic photographs. These pieces would allow me to create an abstract, sensual portrayal of the subtle beauty found in healthy sexual relationships. 

Again: healthy sexual relationships. 

That was what caused me the most outrage at the pornography. These relationships were not healthy. The situations were almost exclusively of males dominating women with the exception of the issue of Barely Legal. I had no idea what was in these variety packs, but if I had known that Barely Legal existed, I may have never begun this project. And humiliation pornography brought me to tears. I want to approach this with as open a mind as I possibly can, but these two genres ripped me into pieces. 

So I ripped them apart. 

Several late night work sessions from now, I'll compile this into a larger series, filled with flesh tones and light pastels. Abstract snippets of pornography. The beauty of sexual intimacy. Until then, here is a work in progress: 
 

One last sad, sad side note: Apparently, someone by the name of 'Hanna Harley' is a porn star.

Welcome!

Hello and welcome to the new website! 

Over the past few weeks, between the Fix meetings and softball practices and actually going to class, I have been working on updating to this site.  I've transitioned from the former blog based format to this new presentation, but don't worry -- I plan to update the blog regularly with works in progress and the current goings-on in my life. 

The newly decorated photography labs at Point Park

As you may have noticed, in recent years, I have been transitioning from senior portraits and weddings to fine art photography. Typically, I have not shared the elements of this transition online as they were often raw, emotional examples of my own attempts to navigate the world. But now, I'm ready to share. 

Originally, photography was one of those things I could do kind of well and I kind of liked it, so it seemed reasonable to use it to earn a living. I didn't really know how to photograph or edit, but I was constantly told by various aunts that I had 'the eye'. That and a trip to France sealed the deal. I would be a photographer. Simple as that. 

But in 2011, I had no idea that photography could be so diverse, so powerful, so consuming. I had an inclination for it, but I could never predict how important it would become to me. 

My first real experimentation with fine art photography occurred in Matt Adams' Intro to Black and White Photography class. I was constantly being challenged by my fellow classmates, and for the first time, I felt like I was part of an intellectual community. We really critiqued each others' work, and we invested in each others' success. For our final project, we had to turn in a conceptual series. I, having recently been on a weight gain/loss rollercoaster, decided to photograph bodies looking their best and their worst to show how big of a role our perceptions have in our self esteem. It was not the best technically executed series by any means, but it was my start down this conceptual road. 

Since then, I have been creating bodies of work to help me understand the world better, and I began looking to photography to delve into my own psychology and our societal issues. With each series, it has been a transformative learning experience and I'm grateful for each one.

And maybe some people from my hometown will joke that I'm an art-tiste now.. But I'm using this medium to tackle problems, to make a difference - for one person or a thousand. 

It's been an amazing few years, so let me introduce this semester's works in progress! 
This semester is a 24 credit one, and it is constantly requiring me to make new work, which is challenging in the best way. 
I have begun shooting 4x5 view camera, lugging it around Pittsburgh in pursuit of some big negatives. I sometimes convince my friends to come out with me and that looks something like this: 

Our senior thesis preparations have begun, and I am too excited about seven different ideas to really decide on one. I've been going to the library for research, but it's just leading me to more information that gives me more ideas. I've been talking with artists and seeking critiques from my peers, and my professor doesn't seem too concerned that I'm casting my net pretty wide right now. My ideas are pretty rough right now, but I've been having fun collaging. I spend way too many late nights with my roommates' paper cutter and a roll of glue. It's been a soothing exploration. 

I have been looking through past bodies of work, in order to re-edit or re-conceptualize them. I've been looking at the images from the road trip. I've noticed that I shot out of the car quite frequently, and some of the images have this beautiful deadpan aesthetic. I've been compiling those and adding to it, and we'll see what I make out of it. 

Yesterday evening, I had a big first: I hung my first show. And it was awesome.
I was lucky enough to work for Just Harvest and Repair the World to sequence and hang the works that were selected. I recruited one of my dear friends, Michelle Montana, to help. We've both talked extensively about our curatorial dreams, so it only seemed fitting to get started together. 

The show was organized by Just Harvest, a nonprofit dedicated to helping raise awareness for hunger and eradicating poverty, and Repair the World. I was connected with Just Harvest through Zack Block, the director of Repair the World. I photographed him for Pittsburgh Magazine, and he was kind enough to get to know me and encourage me in my future plans. 

Just Harvest facilitated this show to bring awareness to living conditions and poverty in Pittsburgh. Marie Muzzie, a grassroots organizer with Just Harvest, interviewed each of the five photographers and encouraged them to photograph their own experiences. The series ranged from the documentation of an individual's eviction to the stigma surrounding food stamps. The work itself was a powerful representation of these daily difficulties, but I found that the most beautiful moments were the photographers' reactions to the presentation of the images. To know that we presented their work in such a way that brought that much joy to their night.. That's a great feeling. 

And I guess this is the part of the blog post in which I tell you that I have decided that I want to be a curator. Following my graduation from Point Park University, I plan to get my master's in curatorial practices. While I love photography whole heartedly, I've come to realize that my personality and my passions lend themselves more towards a career in curatorial work. Now, there will be a multitude of obstacles I will have to overcome. Even now, as I'm riddled with the self doubt and fear, I'm hesitant to publish this bold declaration on the internet. (After all, when has anything gone according to plan?) But every important thing I have done in my life had this daunting amount of fear attached to it. 

So here's to following your dreams and being absolutely terrified. 
Happy Senior Year, my friends!! 

Reunion in New York City

By some beautiful miracle, I got to be reunited with the amazing human beings that became my friends in Paris. We decided to do our reunion tour through the streets of New York City, and I was overwhelmed with anticipation like a six year old the night before Christmas. The people who kept me fed and watered when the Frenchies froze my debit card, who ate 21 pasteries with me, who spent hours wandering around museums with me, who celebrated Thanksgiving with me… These humans would be snuggling me.

Anastasia came to Pittsburgh the night before, and we started the snuggling right away. We caught the megabus at 6:00 that morning, making our way to Rachel and Kasey.

View from Central Park

And my goodness, I love travel. I love the act of moving. The starting and stopping, the lurching of the buses, the waiting at the airport terminal, the hustle to the gate, the sounds of your suitcase rolling over cobblestones, the cheap coffee that burns your hand, the vacant stares out of the window. Some people might be a little hesitant to hop in a bus for six hours, but I’m practically giddy with such experiences. The more time I get to spend moving, the better.

When the bus started (slowly due to traffic) entering New York City, I was enthralled. It was my first time in the big city, and boy, was it big. Anastasia chuckled at my enthusaism, mainly because my face was pressed against the window in quite a comical way.

Rachel was waiting for us at the cafe across from the bus stop, sipping coffee and eating pasteries. Typical. So we exchanged the biggest hugs and a chorus of ‘you’re really here!!’. We’re not pre planners by nature, and we’re all fairly poor. So we were all still registering the shock that we managed to make it to New York at the same time.  

We met Kasey at the hostel, which was an awesome industrial and hip space. Kasey was her super chill and giggly self, as she always is. We all snuggled. It was beautiful.

And then we set out in pursuit of food.

As Jim Gaffigan pointed out, traveling is just eating new stuff in new places.

Granted, we do spend a lot of time in museums, but the food… Oh, the food.

We all caught each other up on our lives, and we wandered around New York City, reminising about Paris. We managed to watch the sunset in Central Park and then we got the best characture that's ever been made. 

We traveled to the Museum of Modern Art, one of the greatest Meccas of the art world. My friends have been talking about it for years, and I was pathetically unaware of it. My professors have work in there, and unfortunately, MoMA doesn’t display their full collection at all times.

I was definetely most impressed with the work of Alfredo Jaar. His series, titled Lament of the Images, focuses on the issues surrounding images that are intentionally hidden from the public sphere. The work doesn’t express itself as well as a digital experience, but it was breathtaking in the gallery. I didn’t photograph it, as I sometimes don’t, but I’ve included the link to MoMA’s online presentation of the work. (Find it at: http://www.moma.org/collection/works/138623?locale=en) 

I find that I rarely photograph when I’m focused on the experience, and while I do wish I could bring that experience to you, I cannot fully do it through photography. Such is the plight of photography! It is representative of an experience, but it cannot be a substitute for the experience.  So if you get a chance, head over to MoMA and spend some time in the aura of Jaar’s 2002 series.

We also traveled to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is lovingly referred to as the Met. It reminded us all of the Louvre since it was filled to the brim with thousands of pieces on display. We were practically jogging between exhibitions in an attempt to take it all in. It felt like a little reunion with our Impressionist buddies, who we all studied in Paris.

I diverged to visit the Guggenheim. I had to go really. My first intellectual encounter with art was when I went to a Guggenheim collection exhibition. I saw Robert Delaunay’s Red Eiffel Tower and when I stood in front of it, it was the closest to a spiritual experience that I have ever had. And here I was, tears in front of this canvas. And I’m pretty sure anything that moves you to that point, that’s how you find your calling.

They don't allow photographs to be taken, which I find to be a silly rule and that's not very nice of me.

Needless to say, the Solomon R. Guggenheim musuem was not showing any of Delaunay’s work, but they still had some interesting contemporary work. It had smaller galleries than I thought it would, so there wasn’t very much work work to look at.

To conclude our short time together, we ate pizza and gelato in Little Italy, celebrated in Greenwich Village, and laughed until we had to wipe away the tears. The next morning, we said our goodbyes over mimosas and pierogis. And when saying goodbye to people that become your family, you at least get to know that love will connect you forever, no matter the distance.

So here’s to Anastasia, Kasey, Rachel, and the ever elusive Hanan. Thank you for giving me a family abroad and for loving me as well as you all do. We’ll always have Paris and we’ll always have each other.

Thanks for reading! The next adventure awaits..