Issue 1: Open 24 Hours

Heliography

by Matthew Allred

WITH THE ADVANCEMENT of technology, the photographic image has become highly resolved, razor sharp, and instantly accessible. It is capable of describing even the most obscure minutia. But I fear what we have gained in definition, we have lost in intuitive exploration.

The work I call "Heliography" is an examination of the extended length of the photographic moment, as well as the aesthetic possibilities of primitive cameras and chemical processes. I originally set out to build a camera that could look beyond the instant and immediate present. I wanted it to accumulate time, slowly, like a meditation on its own purpose. It was designed to continuously capture the landscape until even the sun distorted, tracing the arc of time across the sky. Throughout the history of photography, the emphasis has been on capturing ever smaller slices of time. However, my approach shifts away from that, instead focusing on capturing the expansive motions of extended time.

I think it is a beautiful indicator of the burden of progress that in order to capture the slightest amount of time, the greatest amount of technology is required. Yet, to capture great lengths of time, all that is required is a very small hole. And so, in order to achieve days-long or even months-long exposures, I returned to the oldest optical device: the pinhole.

The organic nature of film is well suited for this process because of its relative simplicity and flexibility. However, even after just a few moments of exposure to the intensity of the sun, the material begins to deteriorate and is no longer suitable for conventional processing. In order to overcome this limitation, I maniuplated specific chemical processes to compensate for what would normally be considered a massive over-exposure.

My hope is that these images begin to reveal the ancient connection and adoration man once held for the sky and the seasons. From the pinhole's perspective, the sun is reminiscent of the ancient geocentric model of the heavens. From this I can begin to glean what a massive paradigm shift the heliocentric model must have been, and why it seemed for so many to defy common sense.

When I study these photos I feel as if I’ve stepped into the mausoleum of time, and the transitory nature of existence becomes painfully palpable. It’s as if the image has somehow become untethered from reality. Or, perhaps the scene appears alien because it lacks the ubiquitous movement of people. Regardless, I sense my own insignificance and a visceral dejection when confronted by the grander patterning of the heavens, and the idea that time itself will cease to exist when its last witness dies.

Matthew Allred’s interest in photography began with a simple science project: building a pinhole camera out of an oatmeal container. “Since then I was hooked. Seeing an image form in the developer after just pulling it straight out of an oatmeal box is unreal. I haven’t ever gotten tired of it.”

He received a BFA from Boise State University in 2006 and MFA from the University of Utah in 2008, both with an emphasis on photography. Matthew currently teaches darkroom photography at the University of Utah.

His most recent body of work, entitled "Heliography," is a unique photographic process designed to capture exposures ranging from a day to half a year. He custom designs and handmakes cameras specifically formulated for the task. Allred states, “Designing a camera that can stay put and not deteriorate during adverse weather is more complicated then you might think. It may use a simple hole for a lens, but I can tell you from personal experience, it’s a gamble that anything turns out at all.” Allred’s work has been shown nationally in several solo exhibitions.

http://www.matthewallred.com