Angie

It's been a strange 10 days but I know my time at the Missouri Photo Workshop changed my life in ways I won't even realize for some time to come. I do know it has changed, or better yet, reaffirmed some of my beliefs about documentary photography. This belief being that, while pure storytelling images are important, another route to reach people exists. And this is poetry, or mood. This is the ability to reach people through the feeling of a photograph, rather than the tangible objects or people shown in the photograph. I'm not saying this story is a success in that realm... but I think the time I spent in St. James, with Angie, Eugene, Danny, Rita, Liz and others will prove as a road to deeper thinking and storytelling.

These 10 images are the end result of seven days of nonstop overstimulation, coffee, waking up early, talking, listening and more listening.

I met Angie on a whim after following a string of leads the first day of story hunting. I was driving a few miles east of St. James to a ranch to follow a lead about a mother and daughter who started a horse stables together. On the way out I saw Angie and Eugene's grape stand and clocked it away in the back of my mind. After meeting the stable owners and photographing for a short time I knew my heart wasn't in their story. They had a nice story but it just wasn't for me. On the way back by chance I didn't take the highway, but a small side road which runs along side highway 44. I passed by the grape stand a second time but this time something clicked and I pulled a u-turn and went back. After receiving a nasty look from a semi driver who almost broadsided me I walked up to Angie who was selling grapes and introduced myself. From that moment on I knew I wanted to photograph her. She exuded life, from her talkative attitude right down to her grape-stained fingernails and tanned skin. For about an hour I sat and listened to her story. At 81-years-old she runs a 3 acre vineyard by herself. Her husband, Eugene, can no longer help much because his kidneys are failing. The vineyard has been in her family since the 1920's, which was planted by her parents, who both immigrated to the states from Italy.

It really was the American dream fading away right in front of me. Yet, she was upbeat. She had a mission. And for five days she and Eugene let me into their lives and allowed me to photograph them. I am grateful to have met them. I hope they find suitable owners for the vineyard once it comes time to sell.

On the last day of the workshop I stopped by her grape stand for the last time. It was mid afternoon and I had just come from the gallery, which showcased the 40 photographers work on 20 inch prints. For most photographers there were a few extra prints which had small errors or didn't make the final edit. Those we were allowed to take. When I went to grab the prints to take to Angie who sat under the green canopy next to her stand, one print broke my heart. It was the 9th frame in this post, where she stood defiant over her grapes. I suddenly didn't want to give it to her. I aspire to be as strong as the person in that photograph. And I knew then I needed to give it to her, so I did. And said my goodbyes.