When a long time neighbor moved away because of health problems, I wanted to photograph her house and garden after she left. I admired her spirit and her zest for life, and I thought photographing her environment would be a way of saying a private goodbye to her. I knew that the new owners planned to bulldoze her tiny home, so that a much larger place could be built; perhaps I was also saying goodbye to a way of life. I became particularly interested in an old fig tree in one corner of her yard. The shapes of the leaves were beautiful. When I looked carefully, I was fascinated with each leaf; they were alike, but each was different. I realized that this tree, like its owner, was a unique individual, with decades of life experiences. This was the beginning of an extended series of photographs I call "Spring Leaves".
These images were made with infra red film. I don't think I could have done this work with any other film. Since the film is sensitive to heat as well as light, it shows living foliage to be light-colored and animated. When lit from behind, the leaves do not seem to be solid. The lighting suggests they are fragile, even vulnerable. I also like the fact that infra red film does not appear to record a fixed moment. These momentary glimpses are impressions. If a moment appears open-ended rather than decisively fixed in time and vision, it suggests to me a beginning or a change rather than an end. I think of these images as fleeting glimpses; and how can one hold on to a glimpse?
