June 18, 2014
In the heart of the winter, during a horrendously ferocious blizzard, I suited myself up and trudged out into the storm. It took me forever to get out and across the road to Tisbury Meadows where there is a beautiful tree I love photographing. The wind was howling and relentlessly brutal. There were drifts that reached mid thigh. Despite being freezing cold and wet, I shoot an entire roll of film, which is a lot for me. When I got home, I immediacy developed the film but I didn’t roll it right and it came off the reel in processing. Every single frame had gouges out of the film except this one. The minute I started printing I thought “how bazaar! She (She just seems feminine to me) looks SO calm despite this blizzard; so delicate and stately and serene in spite of this a howling and gusting storm as if to say: ‘That’s fine, do anything you want, be anything you want. I’m here.’” She’s so beautiful. If I had to sum up this tree in this picture I’d say: delicate & proud. Nothing ever fazes her. She deeply rooted.
Sometimes on our south shore we’ll get these waves that don’t just come and go but rather, break through the sand and wash over it and form these inner worlds with pools and islands and peninsulas which eventually heal and go away with the tide. It was late afternoon. The sun was low on the horizon. Long shadows sculpted the shore. I was in awe of the beauty of the place and of the drastic alterations that take place in the landscape in the blink of an eye here. For me, this realization re-emphasized that I should take nothing for granted. So even when I was really tired and thinking, ‘Oh well, I’ll come back tomorrow and take this or that shot’ I thought ‘I can’t count on anything being the same. I have to act now because it won’t be the same tomorrow. It won’t be like that even beyond this literal picture frame. It will never be the same again… It can’t.”
Janet Woodcock began pursuing her passion professionally in 1980, studying at both the Art Institute of Boston and the New England School of Photography. She mastered her craft while working for several newspapers doing free-lance assignments. In the mid nineties, she decided to devote all of her energy into her own projects. Janet's commitment to “the traditional craft of photography” is evident in her past and recent work alike.
I love this photograph. I was at the beach and in love with
the look of this structure, that no longer exists. It was so gnarly and cut up by
the water. Just before I was going to take this image my dog Duke (who
also no longer exists) but who was always so good about staying by my
side, got up and walked into the frame. I called him back but he left his
footprints. I remember hesitating thinking, okay I should wait a little till the
come in and wash them out. It would take 2 sweeps and they would be
gone but I didn't. And it was so cool because, though you can barely see
them, it gives me a sense in the photo that something has entered and
has left. The photo is also about the relationship between the ocean and
cliff and the fact that they are not separate entities at all. They are one
and the same. One gets swept over here and one gets pushed over there
and we try to make them separate in our minds but there is no separation.
Everything is all so connected.
This boat was partly filled with water. It was ½ submerged
and sinking when I saw it from the shore but there was something
compelling about it so I waded out to see what it looked like from a
different angle and when I got to the other side of the boat, where I
couldn’t see the part of it that was drowning, it looked pretty spectacular
and amazing. I mean it’s this half sunken rowboat from behind but from
this perspective it really looks like a ship… so proud. The boat really has a personality. It’s bigger than life.
Description: It was very early spring 1988. The leaves were just coming out
and it was misting lightly. The whole setting was very ethereal because
this whole tree was covered in a sort of sheen. I’ve always been
attracted to trees. I am amazed that no matter what they’re forced to
face or go through, they just keep on growing. This one in particular was
spectacular in that it had lost a huge section of itself. A big portion of it
had just come off in a storm but it just kept on growing despite it. I am
struck that even though this tree is ancient and dying (which can take a
long time for a tree to do) it is always creating new life even as it dies.
Location:Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts
Janet Woodcock began pursuing her passion professionally in 1980, studying at both the Art Institute of Boston and the New England School of Photography. She mastered her craft while working for several newspapers doing free-lance assignments. In the mid nineties, she decided to devote all of her energy into her own projects. Janet’s commitment to “the traditional craft of photography” is evident in her past and recent work alike.