Saturday, December 6, 2025

Reflective Saturday

The week ended with a "no" from the Allerton Hood Residency, though also encouraging future projects. As much as I've been focused on the possibility of that residency, I'm pausing in the gap of not knowing what's next. 

I went through my application material and pulled out some key phrases that speak of my art practice regardless of project or proposal. I've been talking with other artists. Here are words I'm reflecting on.


The Magic of Walking with a Camera

A Practice Retreat - A Portal

To Be Held - To Hold a Camera

Desire Lines - Traces in the Land

Inner Queer - Public and Private

Amateur = Love


Raging River

... feel its force

... see where it takes me

Trail of Death 

... traumatic clearing

... survivance 

Dawn & Dusk

... the sun is slant

... the mind is open

Dreaming


The Artist Is Dangerous

Dragons & Demons

Fire - In the Dark of Winter

Crucible - Cauldron - Caldera

Raw Edges - Deep Surprise - Not Knowing

Personal Inner Wild

Generative Spark - Something New Emerges

Creating Meaning


The Sphinx

A pair of sphinx face Allerton House, invoking Oscar Wilde's poem. Those words, too, echo in my mind.



Larry Wolf, View from My Porch (2025)

Thursday, December 4, 2025

It All Came Together

New York and San Francisco 1945-1946

Meyer Shapiro and his approach to art history struck home. Ann Armstrong loaned me the Wolfflin Principles of Art History. The Newhalls guided and became fast friends. Stieglitz was met! That lump of creativeness and spirituality broke out of its poured concrete straight jacket.
"Have you ever been in love?"
Yes.
"Then you can photograph."

 ...

The teaching job at California School of Fine Arts became available, the Newhalls recommended me to Ansel and I appeared in SF on my birthday, 1946.

All the background of science, art, teaching, photographing, living with people, writing, traveling was suddenly channeled into teaching at CSFA. I felt that I did not know enough.

The lessons learned from the Boleslavsky went into effect. The principles of art history were converted to use by photographers; the psychological approach learned from Shapiro went into effect, the idea of the equivalent from Stieglitz went into the curriculum; technique was learned from Ansel at a high rate of speed and his Zone System became my staple.

...

I taught five days and three nights a week for the first two years. There was little time to see the city ... I got to know the city from student's pictures. The first shooting of my own was a kind of compulsion to work at Land's End. Illustrations to fit the Amputations verses as equivalents was the first bite into serious photographing since Oregon.

Minor White, Memorable Fancies
edited by Todd Cronnan and Peter Bunnell (2025)


Larry Wolf, On My Birthday - Flight to San Francisco (1974)

Tuesday, December 2, 2025

Snowy Afternoon at Graceland

Larry Wolf, Allerton Family (2025)
Samuel Allerton, Pamelia Allerton, Agnes Allerton, Kate Johnston, Allerton Johnston

Robert Allerton and John Gregg Allerton are not buried here. Their ashes were scattered in the Pacific Ocean by their home in Hawaii.

Monday, December 1, 2025

Robert at 25

Larry Wolf, Robert at 25 (2025)
 
Larry Wolf, Robert at 25 (2025)

Larry Wolf, Robert at 25 (2025)

Larry Wolf, Robert at 25 (2025)

While applying to the Hood Artist Residency at the Allerton Park and Retreat Center, I created a fortune teller to further understand how the land might have appeared to Robert when he was twenty-five, his first summer at The Farms (1898), before he built the grand house and started the formal gardens, and how Robert and the land appear to me now (2025).

Flexing the fortune teller, opening and closing the petals. What is seen? What is waiting to be revealed? How are we shaped by our environment? What is universal? What is deeply personal?

See the project page for more about my working with fortune tellers.

Thursday, November 27, 2025

With His Dogs

Robert Allerton with Dog (1915)
HALF 26 neg, University of Illinois Archive RS 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives

During Construction of Allerton House - Upper Terrace (1900)
HGMT 2 neg, University of Illinois Archives RS 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives 

Along a Garden Wall - Flower Garden Spring (1925)
HGFA 13 neg, University of Illinois Archive 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives

At a Picnic - Lost Garden (1937)
HGL 54 neg, University of Illinois Archive RS 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives

Robert wandered the estate early every morning with his dogs, while his guests usually slept in. 
Martha Burgin and Maureen Holtz: Robert Allerton, Private Man and Public Gifts (2009)

Wednesday, November 26, 2025

Dear Mr President - April 1993

Larry Wolf, Dear Mr President - page 1 (1993)


Larry Wolf, Dear Mr President - page 2 (1993)

Some weeks ago, when I was creating my zines of the 1979 and the 1987 Marches on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights, I went looking for my photos from the 1993 MoW, and found virtually nothing. It was a rough time for me, for my friends. If there were photographs, they have been lost.

Today, I found this letter. I have not OCR'd it. It should take some effort to read. It took some effort to write, back then. It speaks of pain and optimism. Pain and optimism which resonates still.

Tuesday, November 25, 2025

What Would Minor White Do?

Photograph who you really are

Venture into the landscape without expectations. 

Let your subject find you. 

When you approach it, you will feel resonance, a sense of recognition. If, when you move away, the resonance fades, or if it gets stronger as you approach, you'll know you have found your subject. 

Sit with your subject and wait for your presence to be acknowledged. 

Don't try to make a photograph, but let your intuition indicate the right moment to release the shutter. 

If, after you've made an exposure, you feel a sense of completion, bow and let go of the subject and your connection to it. 

Otherwise, continue photographing until you feel the process is complete.

Minor White's instructions to students at the Hotchkiss workshop in 1971
 as described by John Daido Loori in The Zen of Creativity (2004)

Pre-Workshop Reading List

Carlos Castaneda: A Separate Reality (1971)

Eugen Herrigel: Zen and the Art of Archery (1953)

Richard Boleslavsky: Acting: The First Six Lessons (1933)

Minor White's reading list for students at the Hotchkiss workshop in 1971
 as described by John Daido Loori in The Zen of Creativity (2004)


Larry Wolf, Shadow on Stone (2025)

Monday, November 24, 2025

The Sphinx

Allerton House - Mansion Pond, Front Terrace (1938?)
HGMT 36 neg (1 of 2), University of Illinois Archive RS 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives


Allerton House - Terrace, Pool Area (1935?)
HGMT - 34 neg (1 of 2), University of Illinois Archives RS 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives


Allerton House - Upper Terrace (1920s)
HGMT - 26 neg, University of Illinois Archives RS 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives

These Sphinx were designed by John Borie III, Robert Allerton's friend and the architect for Allerton House. They may have been created in the memory of Oscar Wilde, shortly after his death, referencing his poem The Sphinx

A beautiful and silent Sphinx has watched me through the shifting gloom.
 
Inviolate and immobile she does not rise she dos not stir
For silver moons are nought to her and nought to her the suns that reel. 
 ...
A thousand weary centuries are thine while I have hardly seen
Some twenty summers cast their green for Autumn's gaudy liveries. 
 ...
Sing to me of that odorous green eve when crouching by the marge
You heard from Adrian's gilded barge the laughter of Antinous 
 
And lapped the stream and fed your drouth and watched with hot and hungry stare 
The ivory body of that rare young slave with his pomegranate mouth!
...
When through the purple corridors the screaming scarlet Ibis flew
In terror, and a horrid dew dripped from the moaning Mandragores. 
...
Who were your lovers? who were they who wrestled for you in the dust?
Which was the vessel of your Lust? What Leman had you, every day? 
 ...
You kissed his mouth with mouths of flame: you made the horned-god your own:
You stood behind him on his throne: you called him by his secret name.
 
You whispered monstrous oracles into the caverns of his ears:
With blood of goats and blood of steers you taught him monstrous miracles.
 ...
The god is scattered here and there: deep hidden in the windy sand
I saw his giant granite hand still clenched in impotent despair. 
... 
But these, thy lovers, are not dead.
...
Your lovers are not dead, I know. They will rise up and hear thy voice
And clash their cymbals and rejoice and run to kiss your mouth! and so,
 
Set winds upon your argosies! Set horses to your ebon car!
Back to your Nile! ...
...
See, the dawn shivers round the grey gilt-dialled towers, and the rain 
Streams down each diamoned pane and blurs with tears the wannish day.
...
What songless tongueless ghost of sin crept through the curtains of the night,
And saw my taper burning bright, and knocked and bade you enter in?
...
Get hence, you loathsome misery! Hideous animal, get hence!
You wake in me each bestial sense, you make me what I would not be.
...
Whose pallid burden, sick with pain, watches the world with wearied eyes,
And weeps for every soul that dies, and weeps for every soul in vane.  

 Oscar Wilde, The Sphinx (1894) 

Typically a sphinx would guarding a home, confronting a visitor. Robert had these turned so he could look upon their faces from the Solarium, indicating that the gardens and nature is what is being entered and protected. 

Perhaps like Wilde's poem, Robert is questioning the sphinx, asking what they know of history and what might be learned from their experience. Of course, the sphinx is silent. We must rely on our own intuition, considering our questions as our guide.

Oscar Wilde was at the peak of his fame when the poem was published. He would soon be in a legal entanglement with the Marquess of Queensberry, the father of his lover, Lord Alfred (Bosie) Douglas. The trials resulted in Wilde's conviction for gross indecency. He was sentence to two years of hard labor. Wilde was broken by the imprisonment, his loss of reputation and social standing, and related financial losses. He died three years after his release from prison, in 1900, as the mansion was being completed.

Were the sphinx a coded reminder of the risks of challenging social norms? To generally be alert? An invitation to contemplate the enigmas of life?

Allerton House - Upper Terrace / Cropped
HGMT - 9 neg, University of Illinois Archive RS 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives

Sunday, November 23, 2025

Double Negatives

Flower Garden - Spring (1930?) HGFA-29 neg (2)
University of Illinois Archives RS 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives

Allerton House - Terrace / Library HGMTL - 26 neg
University of Illinois Archives RS 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives

Square Parterre HGHS - 17 neg (2)
University of Illinois Archives RS 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives

The envelopes for these images contained two identical negatives. Each pair of negatives was stacked on each other, then photographed on a light box as a single image. The negatives were made in the 1980s and 90s from photographic prints in the Allerton collection.

Wednesday, November 19, 2025

A Box in the Archives

Larry Wolf, Archives Research Center, University of Illinois (2025)


Larry Wolf: Box 6: Negatives (2025)
University of Illinois Archives RS 31/13/5


Larry Wolf: Working in the Archives (2025)
Robert Allerton, John Gregg and Friends on Library Terrace
University of Illinois Archives RS 31/13/5 Box 6 Negatives

Robert Allerton Park - Pre-1946 Photo Negative Collection

These negatives were made as part of a project of copying early photographs carried out in the late 1980s and early 1990s at the park. A letter-code classification system for gardens and sculptures was devised in 1995 by Arnold Wajenberg and expanded by David Bowman and Connie Fairchild. A system of number/letter codes is used for the interior rooms of Allerton House & Stable, now the Conference Center. University of Illinois building numbers are used for buildings.

The numbers assigned to these negatives correspond with numbers on prints and slides still in the park collection. All of these negatives have print copies with additional information on the backs at the park.

Arrangement within the number sequences in mainly chronological. The prefix H is added to distinguish the "historic" pre-1946 photos from the post-1946 collection also at the park. Numbers missing from the negative sequences have been assigned to prints at the park that don't have negatives.

Connie Fairchild, Allerton Park volunteer
March 28, 2006

Tuesday, November 18, 2025

Our Many Selves

On a blustery Tuesday, I led a workshop for thirty or so 11th and 12th graders, using the form of a fortune teller to explore how we present ourselves, what we freely show and what we keep close.

Layers of Identity (outer, inner, secret)
 
Parts come together
Form new wholes
Hide and reveal
Our many selves

Borders that connect
Edges that hold us
Intersecting spaces of belonging
Family, geography, culture, language, identities

Direct experience beyond words
 
Tom Lau, Larry with Fortune Teller (2025)

Tom Lau, Student Holding Zine, Larry Folding Paper (2025)

Sunday, November 16, 2025

Semi-Finals

The Hood Residency at Allerton Park and Retreat Center asked some further questions. Here are excerpts from my response.

Can you give us a little more background on you and your work?

I actively explore the world and I need quiet time to process it. I use photography as a tool that holds the fleeting moments which catch my attention. My own and others’ archives provide material to look at closely, find patterns, and explore further.

I work from my identity as a white gay male. In my twenties, I was out and proud, a participant in the first March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights in 1979. As I’ve matured, my inner queer perspective informs every photograph regardless of its subject. It’s a more subtle telling, inviting the viewer into a conversation beyond labels about the core of our  lives.

I find deep peace in Buddhist meditation and was a meditation instructor and retreat leader for many years. My photography is in dialogue with meditation: holding a camera shifts my perception into a visual mode; making images before there is language to name them, discovering myself in the photograph..

I make objects to be held; small prints, zines, fortune tellers. My zines are tightly structured objects though the form itself is casual. They tell personal stories, hold layers of meaning, hide and reveal information, lean into the informality of a printed page passed from friend to friend. They lead to conversations.

What do you know about Allerton Park?

I first learned of the Park and Robert Allerton through the portrait, Man in Black, painted by Glyn Philpot while he was Robert’s guest at The Farms. The wall text described Robert as a patron of the arts who had a long relationship with Glyn. I wanted to know more.

Reading biographies of Robert and The Farms, three things jumped out as he turned twenty-five in 1898: 

  • he burned his art work before leaving Europe; 
  • he decorated his outhouse at The Farms with Toulouse-Lautrec posters; 
  • by the end of the summer, he was heading back to Europe with an architect friend to find inspiration for his home in Piatt County.

What passion and determination, a whirlwind of change! 

Robert imposed a formal order, in the house and in the gardens which interacts with the untamed as we move through the landscape, the woods and fields, and come upon sculptures and open spaces. He created a structure which protected his guests, within which they could relax, take off their starched collars and corsets, put on kimonos and togas. Robert messed with form, designing even the kitchen garden, making the practical, beautiful. He was constantly navigating public and private.

My research has shown me Robert’s gifts to the Art Institute, his embrace of a range of masculinity, from Donoghue’s lithe, youthful Sophocles Leading the Chorus of Victory to Rodin’s muscular, mature, contorted Adam; the miniature porcelain Monkey Band from eighteenth-century Germany perhaps bridges Robert’s time studying in Munich to the Chinese Musicians at Allerton Park. 

I journeyed to the Allerton Public Library to study their early Piatt County atlases and to hold their cabinet cards from the 1890s, and then walked some of the trails at Allerton Park to have a beginning feel for the land. I have scheduled a day at the University of Illinois library to study the photographs in their archives.

What is the project you hope to accomplish during the residency at Allerton?

What does Robert Allerton have to say to me, 128 years after he began what is now Allerton Park? He navigated the constraints of his time to create a secure intimate space where he could more fully live his life. 

What of those initial few months from 1898 is still present, held in the land, in the prairie, in the river flood plain, in the upland woods, in the sunlight and the dark shadows? What is in the old photographs? 

Having done much research, the residency is a time to let it go. To be there, as a practice retreat, a concentrated time to make art, for the magic of walking with a camera to create a portal into the past.

I will take early morning walks, as Robert did with his dogs, dogs that were also his ears, compensating for his hearing loss. 

What will I hear? How will I communicate that in photographs? 

Out of this questioning will come cabinet cards that can be held, shuffled, studied; concrete manifestations of living at The Farms.

How do you envision Allerton influencing your area of focus? 

Allerton Park is very much Robert Allerton’s creation. Trained as an artist, a world traveler, he brought a cultured sophistication to his home far from an urban center, hosted artists to live and work, invited friends from Chicago to visit, managed the many farms, and took quiet walks alone. He embodied a strength and a vulnerability, attributes needed to make art. 

I imagine myself as Robert’s guest, the latest in a long line of artists at The Farms, a place of creative refuge. I will seek “desire lines” in the landscape, paths made across the meadows, through the woods; lines that connect me to cultural forebearers, like Robert; desires that run through me, that are revealed in the flights of birds, the eddies in a river, the wind rustling the leaves of grass.

From my time in residence, my art will offer others an entry to living at The Farms, to the rich world that Robert built.

What dates work for your schedule?

The Sangamon River is at maximum flow in April and May. I would like to experience being “on the banks of the raging Sangamon” as the Piatt County Republican described the river when Robert arrived in May of 1898. That word, raging, embodies what I imagine Robert was experiencing, the vibrancy of his youth and the opportunity to create what he wants of the land. I want to metaphorically step into that river, feel its force, see where it takes me.

[My earlier post from my applicatoin to the residency.]

Robert Allerton and architect John Borie stand on the porch of Allerton's cottage, ca 1899
University of Illinois Archives, Box 31/13/5 Allerton Park Collection 1848-2003

Sunday, November 9, 2025

View Finder

View Finder : Mark Klett, Photography, and the Reinvention of Landscape (2001) by William L. Fox

Cover Photos: Largest photograph: Timothy O'Sullivan, Crab's Claw Peak, western Nevada, 1867. Collection of the United States Geological Survey;
Middle photograph: Mark Klett and Byron Wolfe for Third View, Byron checking his blister, Karnak Ridge, Nevada, 1998;
Small photograph: Mark Klett, Artifacts left at Karnak Ridge: Polaroid print, compass, note. 7/9/98.

Selected Quotes

… we still think of a camera, even if unconsciously, as a miniaturized room wherein we seek the truth. The camera is the vaulted chamber of a judge -- our eye -- which is attempting to discern reality. It is wise to remember however, that the root means “curved,” that light can bend and that our perceptions of reality tend to be refracted through our individual viewpoints. Also bear in mind that the camera “obscures” that which is outside its angle of view. [page 30]

William Henry Fox Talbot … the first photographically illustrated book, The Pencil of Nature, in 1844-46. [page 32]

1851 - Frederick Scott Archer…. invented a process using a sticky liquid called collodion … could fix images on glass plates. Blanquart-Evrard… coating paper with egg whites, producing “albumen paper” [page 32]

Wet-plate glass negatives … exposure times … thirty seconds or so for landscapes [page 33]

The camera will obscure a large part of the world at any moment, given its narrow field of vision, but it also thoroughly reveals its subjects by freezing a moment in time and space for our extended contemplation. [page 37]

Clarence King … What he saw during his exploits, from the glaciers of the Sierra to the crater of Mt. Lassen and the deeply eroded riverbeds of the Southwest, led him to hypothesize that both the gradual forces of nature and its violent upheavals formed the geology he had surveyed. Years later, in 1877, he would present a controversial graduation address at the Sheffield School [of Science at Yale] entitled “Catastrophism and the Evolution of Environment.” This was to be a direct challenge to the strictly uniformitarian viewpoint held by many leading scientists, with King proposing an early version of what scientists now refer to as “punctuated equilibria." … a chaotic place where change is inevitable but sometimes violent and unpredictable. … King’s corollary belief, however, even though perhaps only a politically motivated one, that catastrophe was God’s way of kicking evolution into successively higher levels of achievement, would raise an eyebrow. [page 39]

Timothy O’Sullivan… turned that dispassionate gaze, which had served him so well to document and perhaps even survive the horrors of the Civil War, upon a land that Americans considered the most barren and godforsaken in the country, yet one that O’Sullivan found visually inviting [page 40-41]

O’Sullivan descended nine hundred feet down into the mines of Virginia City and made the first underground photographs of miners at work. He lit magnesium ribbons in order to get his exposure -- a somewhat hazardous practice given the known pockets of inflammable gas nearby, but typical of O’Sullivan’s determination to push the boundaries of his medium to its technological limits. He climbed up the five-hundred-foot-high Sand Mountain east of present-day Fallon and made one of the most well-known images of the West ever taken, his wagon and four mules standing patiently in the landscape so barren that it is with actual relieve we see the footprints of the photographer leading from the wagon into the immediate foreground [page 41]

William Henry Jackson … A close friend [of Jackson’s] and fellow expeditionary artist was the painter Thomas Moran, who inculcated in him the romantic creed of the great English painter J. M. W. Turner: what was important was the essence of the reality, and not its literal appearance. Jackson would go so far as to alter his negatives in order to heighten the drama of geological features -- so it would appear not as it was, necessarily, but as he thought it should be. … Science had taken a back seat to scenic manipulation in the supposedly objective chamber of the camera. [page 43]

With O'Sullivan we walk steadily through a landscape that has no pretense to being pretty or romantic, an aesthetic already well established in his Civil War work. When a figure appears in one of his photographs, he is often beneath and dominated by the view, sometimes even partially hidden or hard to find. Furthermore, Clarence King was a founding member of the Society for the Advancement of Truth in Art and proselytized the viewpoint that images of nature made by artists should be free of manipulation. O’Sullivan took his photographs under the direction of the geologist with an eye fixed firmly on the underlying forces and structure of the regions -- whether he was literally crawling underground with miners or climbing obscure ridges to document the unusual fracturing of rocks. … he was not above tilting his camera to isolate the evidence of geological process -- but always seems to be in service of the land itself, and not of a romantic creed. [page 43-44]

There’s a reason that in his own work Klett often deliberately lets his shadow appear in the frame of the photograph, as did O’Sullivan occasionally. It’s his way of saying: Don’t take a photographer’s frame of reference for granted. A photograph might look objective, even scientific, but it might not be the same picture you would make. … As a contemporary photographer, Klett is always aware that our presence in notating the earth changes its reality, a postmodern sensibility that has roots as deep in quantum physics as in the classrooms of the Visual Studies Workshop in Rochester, where Klett received his Master of Fine Arts degree in 1977. [page 45]

Klett… for my own work I want an empirical basis, not an ideological one, something I can use my intuition with [page 53]

Helen and Newton Harrison… former artists turned environmental engineers, who often propose modification in the landscape as urban reclamation projects. Their work, as both conceptual documents to be exhibited and working plans for construction, include unearthing historical land-use patterns, conduction research into local environmental conditions, and restoring the land as sculptural earthworks. Using photographs, text, cartographic overlays, and bulldozers, they create farms and wetlands as metaphorical settings where the collision of nature and culture can be made visible. They are neither exactly artists nor scientists -- their works are both experiment and gesture. [page 53] 
Helen Mayer Harrison (1927–2018) and Newton Harrison (1932–2022)]

… The longer I work, the more important it is to me to make photographs that tell my story as a participant, and not just an observer of the land. [page 198]

… an intuitive photographer who lets meaning arise out of being in a place and working [page 202]

… there's no judgement here, no advocacy for anything other than paying attention [page 203]

The difference between being a detached documentarian suffering the illusion of objectivity, and an engaged artist falling prey to sentimentality and political correctness, is exactly one of the reasons Klett inserts his shadow into the frame. It's not from a sense of ego to declare himself part of the picture, but to let the viewer acknowledge the presence of the photographer on the scene, then mentally subtract him. It keeps both Klett and the viewer mindful of the fact that there is no such thing as "just a picture," but rather a complex relationship among subject, photographer, viewers, and history. The picture isn't a monologue, but a multilogue. [page 214]

… this idea of serial photography… It's related to how O'Sullivan would take multiple views to investigate a site instead of a singular dominating view attempting to define it. [page 293]

… He's taking a journey of rediscovery, of personal re photography done in the mind, as well as sharing it with us.He's mining the historical past not only for images, ideas, and inspiration, but for his own memories, the deepest mediation of experience we have. [page 293]

Selections from the Bibliography

Fox, William L. 2001. View Finder : Mark Klett, Photography, and the Reinvention of Landscape. 1st ed. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press. https://search.worldcat.org/en/title/44066888

Armstrong, Carol M. 1998. Scenes in a Library : Reading the Photograph in the Book, 1843-1875. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press. https://search.worldcat.org/title/45727985

Barthes, Roland, and Geoff Dyer. 2010. Camera Lucida : Reflections on Photography. . Translated by Richard Howard. Pbk. ed. New York: Hill and Wang. https://search.worldcat.org/title/671819280 

Adams, Robert, Lewis Baltz, Harry M. Callahan, Paul Caponigro, Hamish Fulton, William Garnett, Eliot Porter, Art Sinsabaugh, George A. Tice, and Brett Weston. 1980. Landscape, Theory. Edited by Carol Di Grappa. New York, NY: Lustrum Press. https://search.worldcat.org/en/title/7083257

Sontag, Susan. 1977. On Photography. New York: Picabor, an imprint of Farrar, Straus and Giroux. https://search.worldcat.org/en/title/3223849

Szarkowski, John, Cleveland Museum of Art, Walker Art Center, J.B. Speed Art Museum, San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, Krannert Art Museum, Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, and Milwaukee Art Center. 1978. Mirrors and Windows : American Photography since 1960. New York: Museum of Modern Art. https://search.worldcat.org/en/title/4496739

Wednesday, October 29, 2025

Raindrops

Gustave Caillebotte, Yerres Effect of Rain (1875)
Photo: Larry Wolf, Art Institute of Chicago (2025)

Walking swiftly through the Art Institute, scanning for landscapes, this one jumped out at me. the mix of created environment (the pavement just barely at our feet, diagonally) and river with woods and rain drops, the boat on the far shore in the shadows at the edge of the river almost hidden in the trees behind it, backlit. And then a chuckle, reading the wall text, that this is another Caillebotte, though one which wasn't in the blockbuster show a month or two ago. Another Caillebotte rainy day painting, larger, urban, is around the corner. A further chuckle looking at this photo, with the painting balancing, a bit askew, on my blurry finger.

Tuesday, October 28, 2025

Photo Dup

The photo at my doctor's office

Larry Wolf, Photo of Photo, no credit on the framed photo (2025)

My Rephotographed Photo

Larry Wolf, Sunny Chicago Fall (2025)

Tuesday, October 14, 2025

Application to Allerton/Hood Residency

Proposal

Imagine May of 1898. It was a formative time for Robert Allerton and for what would become The Farms. What is remembered in the land?

This is a photographic project: walking the land, dreaming it is a century ago, what might be developed. This is a modernist look showing the land as it is today, informed by the past.

During the residency I will produce a set of Cabinet Cards, a format popular in the late 1800s, small objects (41⁄2” by 61⁄2”) to hold and display. Similar to cartes de visite, but slightly larger, they were used for landscapes. It is a form to slow us down and appreciate the immediate, to underwhelm our overwhelmed senses, to pay attention to the print we’re holding and what it evokes.

The residency is a retreat. Dawn and dusk are transition times when the sun is slant and the mind is open to feeling what is seemingly hidden; an extended walking meditation, letting mind and body, feet and camera, move through the landscape.

The land was there before Robert. It will be here after we are gone. It has been shaped by ice ages and river floods. It has been inhabited by indigenous people (Peoria, Kaskaskia, Piankashaw, Wea, Miami, Mascoutin, Odawa, Sauk, Mesquaki, Kickapoo, Potawatomi, Ojibwe, and Chickasaw Nations). The Potawatomi were marched through Monticello in 1838, with treaties broken, they were forcibly relocated to Kansas, on the Trail of Death. The land was collectively managed by the indigenous nations; it was privately owned; it is now held in public trust.

That spring, Robert was 25. He and his childhood friend Frederic Bartlett had spent five years in Europe studying to be artists. Before leaving Paris, Robert had burned his paintings, declaring he would never be more than an amateur artist. [Note: the root of amateur is love, to do something for the love of it.] Robert brought an artist’s eye to Piatt County, treating the land as his canvas.

Robert immediately started shaping things, moving the old Stallcup house to be near a spring. He wallpapered his privy with Toulouse-Lautrec posters, bringing his past into his present. Living on the land, he was imagining what he might build. My mid-20’s were also a time of setting the course of my life.

This project will photograph the land and invite us to envision what might be.

Larry Wolf, Creek Bed, formatted as a Cabinet Card (2025)

[submitted to the Joan and Peter Hood Residency at the Allerton Park and Retreat Center]

Sunday, September 7, 2025

Looking Up

Larry Wolf, Looking Up (2025)

Sunday, August 24, 2025

Young Sophocles

John Talbott Donoghue, Young Sophocles Leading the Chorus of
Victory after the Battle of Salamis 
(1885/cast 1911)
Art Institute of Chicago, Gift of Robert Allerton


1853 - sculptor John Talbott Donoghue born in Chicago

Chicago Inter-Ocean, Monday Morning
February13, 1882 
(from the Internet Archive)

1882 - Oscar Wilde, on tour in Chicago, praised Donoghue: “more beautiful than the work of any sculptor I have seen yet, and of whom you should all be proud”

"Here is a plaque he designed for one of my poems - a figure of a girl - so simple, so powerful, so pretty. It is perfect"





John Donoghue, Plaque of Isola Wilde

1885 - Donoghue created Young Sophocles Leading the Chorus of Victory after the Battle of Salamis

1890 - Isabella Gardner acquired a bronze of Young Sophocles in Venice


John Talbott Donoghue, Young Sophocles Leading the Chorus of
Victory after the Battle of Salamis
(1890)
Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum

1893 - Young Sophocles was exhibited at the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago.  Multiple biographical posts about Donoghue claim that it won a first prize however it is not listed in the awards records of the Exposition at the Chicago History Museum. There were many fans of the work (Oscar Wilde, Isabella Stewart Gardner, Robert Allerton), but not everyone liked it (see review, below).

"The Young Sophocles Leading the Chorus of Victory After the Battle of Salamis," by John Donoghue, is of the French school, adapting modern treatment to studies of the antique. It is not an attractive composition, and is in more than questionable taste. True, that after the battle of Salamis he was chosen to head the chorus of boys at the celebration of that victory; but one cannot imagine the great dramatist posing as a lad nude and with a lyre in hand. Though lads went naked on such occasions, it is not the guise or attitude that one is apt to associate with this the great master of tragedy. The figure is well enough in its way, with erect and supple carriage, head thrown back, and earnest thoughtful features; but it is not suggestive of anyone in particular, and certainly not of Sophocles, either as a youth or at any other period of his life.

Also intended for the Exposition was The Genius of America. The 30-foot sculpture was shipped from Rome to Brooklyn, where, according to the Boston Herald, it sat on the docks, “a huge bill for trans-shipment confronting the artist.” Left unclaimed, it was broken to pieces by dockworkers to make room for incoming shipments. 

1888 - Donoghue moved to Boston, where he exhibited his work at Horticultural Hall to great acclaim.

1903 - John Donoghue died in New York by suicide (NYTimes and Irish Boston website)

1911 - Robert Allerton gifted a casting of Young Sophocles to the Art Institute of Chicago. Allerton had spent time at the Columbian Exposition in 1893 and may have seen the sculpture there.

1917 - the Metropolitan Museum (NY) purchased a plaster cast from the Art Institute of Chicago, and ten years later, their bronze was replicated from it. 

[Wikipedia states that there’s a copy of Young Sophocles at the Honolulu Museum of Art. A search of their database finds an entry for John Talbott Donoghue, though there’s no image and no metadata. It’s possible that Robert Allerton had a copy of the sculpture in his personal collection which was donated to the HMOA.]

Saturday, August 2, 2025

Prologue to the Present

Larry Wolf (2018)
Twists and turns seem like a direct path in retrospect. One recent (not so recent) piece of my story of how I got here, making photographs and generally creating art (photos, zines, poetry, drawing, painting) dates from 2018 and 2019.

2018 - August

Rather than give in to obsessive thoughts of a new camera, I ordered The Soul of the Camera by David duChemin. It's about the photographer.

2019 - January

I was in dialogue with Shawn Rowe about his upcoming photography class, looking to catch up on the changes in thinking about and making photographs since my last immersion in the 1970s. It's about making photographs.

2019 - September

While in DC for HIMSS Health IT week, I was transfixed by the shifting light and shadows in my hotel room and captured a series of 18 images over the course of one minute. Noticing something visually compelling. Holding a camera. In the flow. Something about that minute felt so right, so what I wanted to be doing. Without thought, I was on the other side of the decision. Be a photographer.

Larry Wolf, More Or Less Transparent - Overview Grid, September 2019

Larry Wolf,
Robert Aitken's Present 1935 (2019)






Present - The Past Is Prologue

During that September in 2019, I walked past this sculpture and inscription at the National Archives. A quote from Shakespeare's The Tempest: "What is past is prologue." The sculpture is titled "Present". I photographed that sculpture multiple times over the years. I keep circling myself. 


2021 - January

Zine making became the answer to What do I do with my photographs? Zines are what I bring with me when I meet friends for coffee, have with me for when I meet someone new, are the form I've adopted for my contact info. Again it was Shawn Rowe who was my teacher. Thank you, Shawn.

2025 - August

Larry Wolf, More or Less Transparent (2025)
Printed at Matiz Press
I reprinted More or Less Transparent as a risographed booklet. In blue because that seemed like the best of the color options. It's been growing on me. Something ethereal and dreamy in the blue, lighter than I imagined, opening more visual space for the viewer. A gentle touch of image on paper in hand. 



Thursday, July 31, 2025

Memory of June 1994

Silent Running

An evening celebration
Let’s meet people 
Establish my presence
Or at least an awareness
Of them
Perhaps
Of me

Alone at a full table
They know each other
Know each other well
Years of living
Years of loving
Years of tears
And cheers
And burials
And marches
Tonight, acknowledged
For of by the all of us

All of them
I know the causes they work for
I know the forces they work against
Just not here

Had I been in Montpelier
Or Burlington
Or Saint Johnsbury
Or Brattleboro
I would have known them
All of them
Might have been on the podium handing out an award

I had to leave
Staying was killing me

Here
Alone
Lost
On edge
I flee
Way before last call
Way before awkward goodbyes and see you soons

Ripped up decades of connection
Shred my heart
Left the cool mountains
For this sweltering swamp
Alone in a hostile world 
Smothered in southern gentility

Inner rage 
Quiet street
Back stairs
Bare apartment
Hum of air conditioning
Staring out at treetops
Wishing for a thunderstorm 
Dance in the downpour

Many reasons to have left
Many reasons to have come 
Dry tears of unresolved loss

-- Larry Wolf, 31 July 2025
remembering June 1994