Portrait of an Artist

Photograph by Shannon Finney

I've always been curious about movement, which is why I've always

been fascinated by the people who think about and design movement.

Natsu Onoda Power is a theatre director/set designer/author who is

thinking about movement and narrative in ways that challenge

the way audiences experience theatre.

 

Holy Week 2011

Palm Sunday 2011, photographed on April 17, 2011 by Shannon Finney

I spent this past Sunday out in the early morning with my camera, looking

for a little bit of the Easter spirit. Growing up, I thought that Easter was about

shiny new shoes and Easter bonnets and dresses the color of cotton candy. This

year, I wanted to get back to the simple core of meaning of the Easter season,

and I found it in a church yard just outside of Washington, DC. 

A Very Special Cherry Blossom Festival 2011

In Full Bloom, photographed 2010, Washington, DC by Shannon Finney

The 2011 Cherry Blossom Festival officially opens this weekend in

Washington, DC, an annual ritual that celebrates the historic gift of the

cherry blossoms from Japan. And with the recent triple calamities that

have befallen the Japanese people, this year's festival has an almost memorial

feel. Growing up here in Washington, DC, I spent hours down along

the Tidal Basin, walking among the pink and white blooms. I also remember

how sad I was when the blossoms ceased their blooming, and all that once

lived seemedshrouded in death. But, then another year arrives and the blossoms

come back to bloom, back to life. It is a timely message of hope.

The New Lords of the Dance

Paata Tsikurishvili of Synetic Theater (left) and Septime Webre of The Washington Ballet,
photographed October 2008, Washington, DC, by Shannon Finney

Washington, DC is not only the nation's capitol, but it is also the center of the evolution of dance. Paata Tsikurishvili, co-founder of Synetic Theater, blends dance, theater, and film to create an entirely new experience of movement. Septime Webre, artistic director of The Washington Ballet, was famous first as a dancer, working with the giants of dance, including Merce Cunningham, Alvin Ailey, and George Balanchine. As a choreographer, Webre wows Washington audiences in performances that sparkle with wit and crackle with Webre's fresh point of view.



Einstein in the Snow

Einstein in the Snow, photographed in Washington, DC in February 2010 by Shannon Finney

One of my favorite monuments in a town full of great monuments is

tucked away in a grove of holly and elm trees on the grounds of the

National Academy of Sciences in Washington, DC. The twelve foot

tall statue of Albert Einstein, by sculptor Robert Berks, has a rough-hewn

quality that makes it look as it were cut from treebark. To sit there

with Albert is a magical experience.

Ice, Ice, Baby!!

Leaf in Ice, from An Ice Storm series, photographed January 18, 2011 by Shannon Finney

Winter is my favorite time of the year to photograph. The skies are a

hundred different shades of grey, or the brightest, clearest blue when

the sun breaks through. I could hear the icy rain on the rooftop all

through the night, and when I awoke, I found the landscape outside my

door transformed. This leaf seemed to emerge from under 

its icy blanket. 

View more images from this series by clicking here.

Happy Birthday, Aunt Lucille



Aunt Lucille, photographed July 2007, Upper Marlboro, Maryland by Shannon Finney

My Aunt Lucille was always larger than life. She was tall with large hands and bright,

big eyes that barely hid the mischief behind them. She was my maternal grandmother

Sarah's,sister, and watching the two of them together was curious to me, as
I imagined them as young girls, two sassy women fussing with each other
and laughing with each other.  On the day that I took this portrait of Aunt
Lucille, she spied me approaching with my camera just as she was bumming
a cigarette from one of her nephews. Smoking had been Aunt Lucille's constant
vice and her children tried their best to get her to kick the habit. She smiled
at me as she sat tall and strong, her right hand gripping her walker,

her left hand clutching her cigarette, with a look on her face, a look

that I had seen her give my grandmother all of those years ago. A look of
defiance and mischief. My grandmother has long since passed away, and
Aunt Lucille died a few years ago, but what makes me smile is imagining the
first words that passed between these two as Aunt Lucille crossed the
threshold of those pearly gates,  welcomed home, a cigarette in her hands
and that rye smile on her lips.