Lyde1848
Lee Marmon, "Lucy Lewis, Acoma Potter," 1961
Lee Marmon (1925-)
Lee Marmon has devoted sixty years to documenting the people and places of Laguna and the surrounding pueblos. Starting in his early twenties, he received strong support from his family, who encouraged him to record life in the rapidly changing pueblos, especially the local elders. Thus, Marmon shares many of the same interests as other documentarians – illuminating the small but significant details of life and using them to tell wider stories of humans and human interactions. As a Native American photographing his own people, however, Marmon faced unusual circumstances. His challenge lay in re-conceiving the role and capabilities of photography. Many Pueblo Indians in the forties and fifties still harbored mistrust and resentment toward cameras and the cultural outsiders who usually stood behind them. Marmon, whose goal wasn’t merely to document a person but a personality, had no wish to impose his lens upon an unwilling subject. Since, however, he himself was a resident of the Pueblo and often knew his subjects personally, Marmon was often able to obtain intimate photos that captured his subjects in informal, revealing moments.
1961 – Lucy Lewis, Acoma Potter.
Marmon’s photograph of Lucy Lewis (1898-1992), a celebrated Acoma potter, contrasts in a number of ways to the earlier Pennington-Updike picture of an unnamed Acoma potter. First of all, Marmon’s potter is named in the title, and with this name comes a recoverable biography and personality, both lacking in the earlier photo. Formally, Marmon’s picture brings the viewer much closer to his subject, the potter Lucy. Instead of standing across from a seated woman, which creates a respectful, but somewhat cold distance between observer and observed, we are here seated at the same table beside the potter. We are on her level, sharing her space unobtrusively. Both her eyes and her entire attention are directed downwards, as she draws her fine, yucca brush over the white slip covering the clay vessel. Absorbed in her craft, Lucy feels no need to meet the viewer’s eye. Indeed, it is the viewer who feels privileged to gain a brief glimpse into this intimate, hushed atmosphere.
Lee Marmon, "Lucy Lewis, Acoma Potter," 1961
Lee Marmon (1925-)
Lee Marmon has devoted sixty years to documenting the people and places of Laguna and the surrounding pueblos. Starting in his early twenties, he received strong support from his family, who encouraged him to record life in the rapidly changing pueblos, especially the local elders. Thus, Marmon shares many of the same interests as other documentarians – illuminating the small but significant details of life and using them to tell wider stories of humans and human interactions. As a Native American photographing his own people, however, Marmon faced unusual circumstances. His challenge lay in re-conceiving the role and capabilities of photography. Many Pueblo Indians in the forties and fifties still harbored mistrust and resentment toward cameras and the cultural outsiders who usually stood behind them. Marmon, whose goal wasn’t merely to document a person but a personality, had no wish to impose his lens upon an unwilling subject. Since, however, he himself was a resident of the Pueblo and often knew his subjects personally, Marmon was often able to obtain intimate photos that captured his subjects in informal, revealing moments.
1961 – Lucy Lewis, Acoma Potter.
Marmon’s photograph of Lucy Lewis (1898-1992), a celebrated Acoma potter, contrasts in a number of ways to the earlier Pennington-Updike picture of an unnamed Acoma potter. First of all, Marmon’s potter is named in the title, and with this name comes a recoverable biography and personality, both lacking in the earlier photo. Formally, Marmon’s picture brings the viewer much closer to his subject, the potter Lucy. Instead of standing across from a seated woman, which creates a respectful, but somewhat cold distance between observer and observed, we are here seated at the same table beside the potter. We are on her level, sharing her space unobtrusively. Both her eyes and her entire attention are directed downwards, as she draws her fine, yucca brush over the white slip covering the clay vessel. Absorbed in her craft, Lucy feels no need to meet the viewer’s eye. Indeed, it is the viewer who feels privileged to gain a brief glimpse into this intimate, hushed atmosphere.