Tuesday February 13, 2007
Location: Piikani REservation, Alberta

I’ve just had a breakthrough in terms of my film process. Breakthroughs like these are amazing in the fact that they come out of nowhere and simply blindside you.

This morning I was sitting at the ranch breakfast table playing spider solitaire waiting to start chores. In that moment, Morris came in and handed me a large book. Here, he said, read it. The book was, Sacred Legacy: Edward S. Curtis and the North American Indian. I know the story of Edward S. Curtis the photographer that documented North American First Nations throughout the course of his life. I also am aware that although there is great praise surrounding his work and some truth found in his photographs, he is also remembered for inaccurate setups where he gave individuals traditional items for his photographs, in some cases items obtained elsewhere and not even of their tradition. (Learn More & Great Vids: Click Here.) Regardless of whom I’ve captured on film, this inability for the camera to be truthful has been at the forefront of my mind since the beginning of my travels and documentation process.

I was happy to see this question of ‘truth’ acknowledged in the book's Forward.

"Photography, at its best, is authentic art, an expression of the creative imagination informed by an original perception of the world. It is said that the camera, by virtue of its very presence, alters reality. Too often a photograph is simply the static record of an image – an object, a figure, a place – in bare definition. A photograph commonly records a façade, the surface of a moment, a nick in geological time. And as such it is necessarily a distortion, a kind of visible plane beyond which we cannot see. But in the hands of an extraordinary artist the camera can penetrate to a deeper level. For Edward Sheriff Curtis the camera was truly a magic box, a precision instrument that enabled him to draw with light, to transcend the limits of ordinary vision, to see into the shadows of the soul. It is not by accident that he was called by his American Indian subjects “Shadow Catcher.”

I am deeply concerned by the fact that as soon as a still or motion picture image is captured, there remains things outside the frame. In this fact, the camera is incapable of ever capturing complete ‘truth’.

So why try?

In my time here with the Blackfoot I’ve found myself surrounded by storytellers and immersed in their stories. A story told sometimes just for the sake of a story, sometimes for sharing of knowledge, sometimes growth, wisdom and often for healing. A story, properly told, carries so much within it to change the lives of the audience.

As if for the first time, I’m learning something I’ve always known –

I’m a storyteller.

I’ve spoken with many on the road about what my film is… a collection of ‘truths’ or moments of reality, eventually transformed into a dreamlike journey. When I interview people I always describe how the film will appear, “Remember the dream you had last night, well that’s my film. One moment you were in one place talking with someone you’ve never met, then in the next moment you’re somewhere else, time and space fragmented, yet with a clear movement forwards.” I’ve said this so many times, but until tonight, I was still hung up on the word “documentary” a word that’s been a curse ever since I first uttered it to describe my project.

This film is not a documentary, but a document. This film is a story filled with truths, from a real journey, through an unreal world.

Once again I’m seeing my process with new eyes. A shift in perspective that will finally allow that part of me that has been trapped by truth to be set free. I have had so many ideas that I’ve let go of in favour of an impossible documentary reality. It’s now time, while using real elements, to also let go and start dreaming in Technicolor.

"Edward Curtis wrote of himself, “While primarily a photographer, I do not see or think photographically; hence the story of … life will not be told in microscopic detail, but rather will be presented as a broad and luminous picture.” We must be grateful for this insight and for this intention: the world of these photographs is one in which breadth and luminosity are indispensable dimensions of spirit and reality."

“It’s such a big dream, I can’t see it all." – Edward Sheriff Curtis

Excerpts taken from N. Scott Momaday’s Forward, Sacred Legacy: Edward S. Curtis and the North American Indian.

peace,
d

My favorite pic from the book, illustrating how small we are in respect to Mother Nature
Canyon De Chilly - Navaho - 1904