"The Outwin 2016" Finalist: Marti Corn
Out of over 2,500 entries in the Outwin Boochever Portrait Competition, 43 artists have their work shown in the exhibition “The Outwin 2016: American Portraiture Today.” Read more about one of the finalists, Marti Corn.
What about the sitter inspired you?
Daniel lives on the far western edge of Kenya. He does not remember his parents, because they died from AIDS when he was a young boy. His family now consists of a couple who took him and gave him work on their farm and the cows he spends his life caring for. I was drawn to Daniel’s quiet and gentle demeanor and how each of his answers to my questions eventually led back to his herd. He has reared several generations of them and speaks with pride as though they were his own children. I was inspired by his ability to reshape his life and find connection and family in such an unlikely place.
What made you decide to depict this sitter as you did?
Because of his loyalty to his herd, there was no other appropriate place to make this portrait. This field is his home and these cows are his family. I chose to use a toy camera for this image because of its ability to fade one frame into another—it seemed analogous of the blurred lines of how we describe family. A portrait that shows only Daniel would have only shown a hint of whom he is.
How did your work develop from idea to execution?
I can’t think of a time that I developed any specific ideas for a body of work that upon completion was just as I imagined. It is never until I am in their space, taking time to absorb my surroundings and develop a trust to the point of their willingness to share pieces of their lives that I know how I will compose my images.
How does the piece fit within your larger body of work?
Kenya is filled with a strange juxtaposition of lush, mouth-watering landscape and poverty that can be seen in every direction. AIDS is a constant threat, as is violence. Rape is used as a weapon in an attempt to keep women submissive, the government runs rampant with corruption, and basic human rights are denied of the millions who live in settlement camps and slums.
Instead of being faced with people immersed in sorrow, I meet dignified individuals whose spirits are not crushed but remain hopeful. Daniel’s portrait is part of a body of work that illustrates this spirit. Other portraits include women from Kibera (the largest slum in the sub-Saharan desert) who have become members of a micro-lending program and are managing to send their children to school, students who are taken away to boarding schools in remote areas and may see their family only twice a year but are grateful for the opportunities education will bring them, and communities who have invested in vegetable farms and hatcheries to better their lives.
What about the sitters inspired you?
I was given the opportunity to travel with a group of doctors and volunteers to villages outside Tegucigalpa. After Hurricane Mitch rampaged Honduras, the entire infrastructure was destroyed. There no longer was any way to travel to cities for food and medical supplies, to purchase clothing, or to work. In order to survive, each village had to learn to become self-sustaining with the exception of counting on the few groups of volunteers who made there way there a few times a year with clothing and medicines.
It took us hours in a Hummer to traverse the rough terrain to reach these villages so we could bring clothing, shoes, and medical aid. One group helped pour concrete blocks for homes, another distributed the donated clothes which the villagers insisted on paying for even if it was with a handful of coffee beans they grew, and the doctors and nurses patiently saw those who were ill, often only able to offer vitamins and aspirin to those suffering because of lack of funding.
I walked down a hill to discover a rock-laden field where teenagers were playing soccer with a deflated ball. It was curious watching them—no laughter was heard, only the sounds of the players scrambling after the ball. I noticed these children sitting on the other side of the field, who were equally silent as they watched the game. Looking at the ancient tree with its roots stretching out to where the children stood and sat whose expressions seemed as ancient as the tree inspired me to make this image.
What made you decide to depict this sitter as you did?
The children barely acknowledged me as I approached them. Honestly, there was no verbal communication with them. I held my camera towards them and they simply watched me for a few minutes and then turned their gaze back to the game. That is when I made this portrait.
How did your work develop from idea to execution?
It was not until I arrived that I was asked to make portraits of those people being helped by a couple who had moved from Kansas to Tegucigalpa to open an eye clinic. As I did not speak Spanish, I was not able to connect with my subjects verbally. However, as I wandered, I was able to make eye contact with many, and through non-verbal communication, they allowed me to photograph them. I never gave them cues. Each portrait is of them looking out to the life they have been forced to endure.
How does the piece fit within your larger body of work?
My goal was to raise awareness of the dire circumstances these people face in order to survive. My portraits include a woman standing outside a make-shift clinic whom I discover is fifty though she appears twenty years older. Another woman, carrying her one year-old son, who was not able to get him to a doctor when he first became ill, learns he is now permanently deaf. Another has cancer. I photographed parents selecting one pair of shoes for each family member that will have to last a year or more and toddlers playing a game of chase not yet understanding the challenges they face.
What about the sitter inspired you?
These two Burmese women spent most of their lives living in a refugee camp in Thailand until they were resettled in Houston two years ago. The eldest works 10-hour shifts six days a week working on an assembly line so they can afford to live in this apartment and to give her sister the opportunity to get her accounting degree. Once that is accomplished, the favor will be returned. The two reflect all of the stories of the desire to thrive in their newfound home I have heard as I develop this project working with refugees who now live in Houston.
What made you decide to depict this sitter as you did?
It is curious to me how refugees, regardless of which country they have come, mesh the culture of their native land with America. As with the others I have met, these young women surround themselves with reminders of home, but they are equally proud of the medals they won in their Houston-based high school, the art they have created here, and the ball caps they’ve collected.
How did your work develop from idea to execution?
When I began this project, many shared photographs, prayer beads, tea sets and other treasures they had brought with them as reminders of home. I initially wanted to photograph them with those items. But I soon realized the juxtaposition of their past and new lives had greater value and spoke volumes about their determination to become Americans. Now, when I interview refugees, I spend several hours with them, listening to what they miss, what they hope for, and how they are accomplishing those dreams. It is not until then that the camera is pulled out, and I make a portrait of them with their thoughts fresh in their mind surrounded by all those things that are important to them.
How does the piece fit within your larger body of work?
In addition to making these environmental portraits, I am making formal portraits. Many have written words of encouragement for the millions of refugees still waiting in camps. Combined, I have printed prayer flags using the cyanotype process and am delivering them to schools in Kakuma and other camps.
You can see Corn’s work in “The Outwin 2016: American Portraiture Today,” up now through Jan. 8, 2017. Also, be sure to vote in our People’s Choice Competition.
