The black and white photos lined the walls in perfect precision. I did a quick sweep through, noticing the variety of blueberry rakers: migrant workers, Maine families, elderly men, and young children. Yet there seemed to be a pervasive culture that united them. As I studied the portraits, I saw lots of tattoos, piercings, cigarettes, booze, tough looking dogs, old cars, stern faces, and tired bodies but I also saw dancing, card games, children playing in the dirt, and smiling faces. I was caught completely off guard by the Blueberry Raker culture.
Robert McClosky's Blueberries for Sal had left me with the impression that blueberries were obviously harvested by cutesy, somewhat well-to do, Maine farm families whose life's lot was contented. Photographer David Brooks Stess helped cure my McClosky disillusionment.
David Brooks Stess is a New Jersey native who spent the majority of his childhood in Florida. He is a photographer and seasonal worker and relies on the blueberry, apple, and Christmas tree industries in order to survive. Stess has dedicated the last twenty years to photographing blueberry rakers in an attempt to "capture the grittiness of life on the margins of society, as well as human experience tied to a very specific landscape" (Exhibit's Brochure). His non-native origins offer him the unique perspective to reveal a way of life whose reality is often neglected or idealized by Maine's blueberry pride. However, Stess may have more blueberry pride than any disillusioned Mainer. As Richard Russo, a Pulitzer prize recipient, writes "You sense how proud he is of his skill, his physical dexterity, proud to do the same hard work on the barrens as the folks who must" (Exhibit's Brochure). Stess is largely preserving a way of life. His photographs are a celebration of the Blueberry Rakers world while simultaneously critiquing the society that surrounds them. He could not be more proud of the physical nature or agricultural expertise the rakers have, however he is critical of the world's condescending view of agricultural workers.
Both at the museum and in the written reviews of his exhibit, his photographs have been described as "unsentimental." I have struggled with this notion, largely because as one digests these images it is an experience far from unsentimental. Russo may provide insight to such a haunting description as he claims that Stess' photos read like "a Thomas Hardy novel, where the borders between character and object and landscape blur" (Brochure). This is the only way I have come to understand Stess' work as unsentimental-- the cohesiveness of character, object, and landscape wash out any one emotionally derivative focus and instead offer the entire piece as an undeniable force. So while Stess' photo's may not wreak of sentiment, they elicit emotional reactions from viewers.
Despite Stess' Jersey roots, he has perfected one of Maine's most Maine attribute: griping (in its most positive connotation) about a, soon to be and forever inevitable, lost way of life. Physical labor is so critical to Maine's work ethic, that such a loss, would raise the question "what is it to be a Mainer?" Could you picture a state full of people working from home, behind their computers? Stess' portrayal of the blueberry rakers perfectly preserves the notion and importance of physical labor.
Sources:
Portland Museum of Art
http://themarlowebookshelf.blogspot.com/2010/09/blueberries-for-sal.html (photo credits)
David Brooks Stess is a New Jersey native who spent the majority of his childhood in Florida. He is a photographer and seasonal worker and relies on the blueberry, apple, and Christmas tree industries in order to survive. Stess has dedicated the last twenty years to photographing blueberry rakers in an attempt to "capture the grittiness of life on the margins of society, as well as human experience tied to a very specific landscape" (Exhibit's Brochure). His non-native origins offer him the unique perspective to reveal a way of life whose reality is often neglected or idealized by Maine's blueberry pride. However, Stess may have more blueberry pride than any disillusioned Mainer. As Richard Russo, a Pulitzer prize recipient, writes "You sense how proud he is of his skill, his physical dexterity, proud to do the same hard work on the barrens as the folks who must" (Exhibit's Brochure). Stess is largely preserving a way of life. His photographs are a celebration of the Blueberry Rakers world while simultaneously critiquing the society that surrounds them. He could not be more proud of the physical nature or agricultural expertise the rakers have, however he is critical of the world's condescending view of agricultural workers.
Both at the museum and in the written reviews of his exhibit, his photographs have been described as "unsentimental." I have struggled with this notion, largely because as one digests these images it is an experience far from unsentimental. Russo may provide insight to such a haunting description as he claims that Stess' photos read like "a Thomas Hardy novel, where the borders between character and object and landscape blur" (Brochure). This is the only way I have come to understand Stess' work as unsentimental-- the cohesiveness of character, object, and landscape wash out any one emotionally derivative focus and instead offer the entire piece as an undeniable force. So while Stess' photo's may not wreak of sentiment, they elicit emotional reactions from viewers.
Despite Stess' Jersey roots, he has perfected one of Maine's most Maine attribute: griping (in its most positive connotation) about a, soon to be and forever inevitable, lost way of life. Physical labor is so critical to Maine's work ethic, that such a loss, would raise the question "what is it to be a Mainer?" Could you picture a state full of people working from home, behind their computers? Stess' portrayal of the blueberry rakers perfectly preserves the notion and importance of physical labor.
Sources:
Portland Museum of Art
http://themarlowebookshelf.blogspot.com/2010/09/blueberries-for-sal.html (photo credits)
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