Sunday, November 1, 2020

Updated March 2024



The Portrait

Visual images form and store in my mind, as the artist in me distills information, seeing personal and natural gestures, hearing stories and life histories, more fully understanding the humanity before me. This influences the direction and visceral feel of future photographs to be made. A kindred bonding usually occurs between us as confidence builds. I often invite my subjects to contribute to the making of their photographs, sharing and discussing Polaroids as we make images. Always be natural, be yourself, I say. Sometimes I direct folks to look and search for their own reflection in the lens, we talk, and they often recall events, sometimes something deep comes to mind, and then I try and capture that moment. This concentration relaxes most people from the nervousness of posing for portraits. Then we may photograph again, perhaps they become absorbed with different thoughts or something very specific in mind, I again expose film. Understanding their fortitude, openness and unguardedness, like nowhere else, but in our mountains, we carry on. The peoples kindness, generosity and sincerity keeps me returning.


Shelby Lee Adams




Cecil Cornett


Cecil Cornett lived in Letcher County, my home county. He had worked with and for both of my grandfathers and my father as a farmer tending crops, logger, truck driver and timber man. He was best known as a woodworker, making rocking chairs, porch swings and chairs. A local bank let him display his work in their lobby. He often laughed, telling me he knew both my parents before they were married, before I was conceived or "hatched," as he liked to say.



Cecil, the Woodworker, 1992

          Our relationship was established during my childhood long before I took up photography. By 1992 we had already been photographing for over 10 years. Many trips when home I'd visit Cecil, sometimes photographing, sometimes not. He lived in a beautiful wooden home with a front and back porch, a house his father built in a holler called Line Fork. Whenever I'd drive up to his place he'd stop what he was working on and we'd go sit on his porch and visit.

Cecil's Workshop, 1992, [work print].


          When you visit an old friend who knows your family and they are familiar with your picture making, photographing is easier and can engage more depth. It's comfortable to visit and transition into making new pictures. Emotionally you both might respond bonding deeper in friendship and that inspires a new way of seeing. He may have some ideas about photographing himself and you should be open to that. In the photo above Cecil is showing me his workshop with some new carvings he has just made. We decided the wood shop would be a good place to set up and make pictures.



Cecil at front of workshop, 1992 [work print]


              The photo above is straight forward and often the starting point.  Making a Polaroid, we viewed and discussed together. Many would consider this a straight documentary image and they would be satisfied with this as a final print. For me on this day with Cecil, this was the beginning of a new photograph. 


First contact sheet, 4x5 film.


             Asking Cecil to go back to doing his usual work, I set up my camera and ran some cords for lighting, then we started making photos. He turned a chair he was repairing upside down placing it on his work table. How he looked through this chairs legs was striking.  Seeing a divided composition and exciting configurations, reflecting on Cecil's face and in his eyes was inspiring. Immediately I changed lenses to a wide angle view giving the composition more background depth and information. Then moving my tripod and camera in close to the tables edge. I asked Cecil to lean into the table toward the camera, making a Polaroid for us to study. We then relaxed and experimented making several photos and more Polaroids.

               Our conversations went from talking about his old mule in the barn to what jobs my grandpa Adams hired him to work at in his younger days. Cecil explained what carving wood meant to him and he said, "The smells cuttin' wood brings back memories from my younger better days. When I cut into a piece of wood, the wood becomes lively. It's satisfying to me." 

               The visual problem with the composition was that we needed more light on Cecil's right eye and the round whirly wood pieces in the background were to abstract and needed more visibility. First I moved the camera shifting the rear standard to include more of the background wood pieces with more clarity and focus. Then I powered the strobe light down to illuminate the right side of his face. I also shifted the light to give a more diffused look near Cecil's right eye without showing the strobe light reflecting a hot spot in his eyes. The daylight was still the dominant natural light source. Cecil kept moving his fingers and thumbs, so we had to find a place for them  to be consistent before exposing film. I set the camera's shutter to a slower speed to allow for the proper exposure of the daylight background. Last, I tell Cecil to keep looking into the camera lens.  


Contact sheet showing final negative with red dot.


            All in all this process takes about an hour's time. My subjects are generally quite cooperative, tolerant and even enjoy my open way of photographing. Most like to make and keep as many Polaroids as they can and they know I will bring them prints when I'm back in the area. It sometimes takes 2 to 3 sessions with someone for my method of photographing to become a fluid process, but it does.  I only want to photograph those who really desire having their image made and that I'm also drawn to. Over time every session is different in one way or another, even with the same subject.



The Woodworker, 1992



4x5 Polaroid, illustrating need for better subject to background positioning and lighting on Cecil's right side of face and eye.



Cecil, 1983



      A side note — In 1996 a location scout for Steven Seagal, when making the movie Fire Down Below stopped by to visit Cecil. The California film people liked the looks of Cecil's place and they discussed a Hollywood location shoot on Cecil's porch for one day. They made an agreement for using his porch, but they had to rebuild his porch with a new foundation to support their equipment. They covered the new materials with black felt, nailing Cecil's old lumber over the new foundation. Everything looked as it did before. The ending of the movie portrays Harry Dean Stanton dancing a jig on Cecil's Porch.




Cecil, 1985




Polaroid showing Cecil in position where background now reveals the full wood circles and his hand and thumb are visible, just enough. The light still must be adjusted to give some visibility to his right eye and side of face. Sharing Polaroids with your subjects communicates quickly as you go along each step. 

Cecil, 1993

               I remember in 1993 I asked Cecil to let me photograph him with objects that were important to him, something he would want to have a record of. After thinking for a short time, he said, "Let's go around to the front porch." He showed me an old gourd hanging from the  ceiling and beside it, a rusty metal gallon sized lard bucket with a birds nest inside." Next to them, hanging from a ten-penny nail, was an old white cloth rag, tied through at the top, containing seeds, a few of which were pushing their way through various holes. Cecil explained that these items had been placed on the porch in the 1930's by his mother after his parents had planted their first garden on this property. "This was my daddy's first luncheon' pail that he took to work in the mines. This gourd was from their first garden, and these seeds my mother hung here from her first flower garden. To this day they have not been disturbed and they'll be hanging here when I die," Cecil said. "This is the best place I can think of that I'd want my picture made."
                                                                                                                                                                 
Interview and photo made 1993, published in Appalachian Legacy, 1998



Cecil, 1995




Cecil [close up], 1990


Shelby Lee Adams, Appalachian Legacy, 1998, University Press of Mississippi, Jackson, MS, published a section on Cecil.   

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            Leveling—My people look at my photographs of them. They see and feel recognized and accepted for who they are. They do not feel threatened by the power of photography or devalued by it, but more acknowledged. They talk of their oppressions and difficulties as fact. The leveling of self-importance between us brings forth a more emphatic recognition. Perhaps, only those who have suffered can really understand suffering. We acknowledge what we know.



Shelby Lee Adams           E-Mail     sadams18@nycap.rr.com






Monday, April 25, 2011

New Posts August 2020


         Adams sees his quest of photographing Appalachians as an unending story and as an autobiographical journey as well. In his text he writes extensively about his desire to ensure that every image is a collaborative accomplishment. Nothing is captured or recorded in a purely documentary manner, which he emphasizes in his accompanying text when he says, “My greatest fear as a photographer is to look into the eyes of my subject and not see my own reflection.”

      This is a complicated statement of artistic subjectivity on the one hand and cryptic objectivity on the other hand, which together acknowledge that an image without a sense of aesthetic control would be little more than a “stock” photograph. Another way of describing his “reflection” would be to say that above all else Adams wants his images to reflect within the creative moment a mutual empathy and participation between himself and his subjects. But in order for such opportunities to flourish and be repeatable in photograph after photograph the full range of human emotions, prejudices, memories, and forgiveness have to be available to the process and allowed as part of it, which Adams describes as “our mutual transcendence” within both the Appalachians and himself. 

                                —James Enyeart
                                                                                                         


 Portraits and Writings

It has always been my approach to see openly,
experiencing more in a state of awe and wonder,
 accepting without labeling or judging.
As an artist portraying our fragile mortality, 
acknowledging whomever is before my camera,
without categorizing.
This has always been my pursuit. 

—Shelby Lee Adams




Junior Bryant, 1986

Junior Bryant, 1986
unpublished


         In this troubled time, I came across some photographs and notes on Junior Bryant a middle-aged white man I photographed in 1986. Over the years I submitted to publications but have never had this work published or exhibited. The emotions and memories these words and pictures evoke today make for me a reflective racial understanding.  

         In the summer of 1986, I was photographing and traveling with a friend who lived in my home county of Letcher, Kentucky. His name was Joe a native, part Cherokee Indian whose nickname was “Snake Man.” He hunted and captured local rattlesnakes and copperheads, keeping a cage with maybe 50 venomous reptiles at his home. Joe sold and traded serpents with the local religious groups that believed in serpent handling as part of their religious experience. Joe himself was the subject of my photography and others, he had some interesting friends he wanted me to meet.

         One day while visiting at Joe’s we talked about Junior Bryant and we decided to go visit Junior. He lived in a place called Rocky Hollow, a mountain top area that was located above the community of Neon. Driving up the steep grade of dirt road, rocks and bad road conditions made reaching the summit impossible by car. We had to park my car on the hillside and walk to the top of the mountain where two houses sat. I had never met Junior and Joe said he did not know how he would feel about being photographed. We decided to leave my view camera equipment locked in the car and walk up to first visit. The grade of the mountain was steep, and this June summer day was hot.

         We arrive at Junior’s house and Joe and he talked for a while, I had to catch my breath, sweating and looking around. I felt I was in the presence of a primeval man. Junior was quiet, open, friendly and observant of everything. He agreed to being photographed without hesitation.  That didn’t seem to concern him in the least. He was not interested in the reason’s, how’s or why’s of my photography work. He did not ask to see samples as so many do. Joe’s introduction was all he needed. He apologized for not having the electricity on when he learned I wanted to use my light kit. He said he was behind on his bills. I walked back down the hill to get my gear out of the car, leaving Joe and Junior under a shade tree talking about locating rattlesnake dens there. Junior has drawn us fresh spring water from his hand dug well that was cold and delightful. 

         When making it back to Junior’s front yard and setting up equipment, I had to take a break and rest from the heat. I had heard about Junior’s girlfriend, a black woman from Haymond, a town close by, she lived with Junior when younger, but had been the cause for many dangerous fights and troubles. His face reflected years of beatings and abuse.  He smiled and said to me, “Some things are precious and worth it all.” He hesitated and studied his words over in his mind and looked me over kindly to see if I was receiving and said, “She was sweet to me; sweetest thing I ever knew.” His words and look on me were forever staying and powerful, yet gentle. Now almost 40 plus years later, when I look at his photographs and reread his words his truthfulness and his love for a woman whose name I never asked, came through.

         There are many people here who live incredible unique lives; never recorded or appreciated, they go totally unrecognized and sink into oblivion. I visited Junior three times that summer and went on to photograph his next-door neighbor with his introduction, an elderly white woman who was 105 years old when I met her. Junior's compassion for her was evident, he walked off the mountain for her many times to get her groceries, medicine and sweets. She had a great granddaughter who also lived with her and cared for her.


 Ester, 105 Year's Old, 1986
Published in Appalachian Portraits, 1993
Rocky Hollow

         Whatever else happened in Junior’s life, I will never know. I’d heard he worked in town at the local coal company temple, doing common labor jobs. On Friday nights when he would get paid, he would go to the only liquor store, get some whiskey for himself and his sweetie and often he would be waylaid by several white men who would gang up on him, call him names and beat him unmercifully. Why, because Junior, a white man loved and lived with a black woman and this was unacceptable to some white's at that time in Jenkins, Kentucky. Somehow-someone would eventually come along driving and pick him up in a pickup truck or car and drive him to the foot of the mountain at Rocky Hollow, tap their horn and his girlfriend would come running down that steep road in total darkness screaming and crying to help Junior home and love and tend to him, again and again. This went on, until finally she died of what I don’t know.

         Today I look at these photographs and I see more of what captivated me so long ago. It was not just Junior’s unique portrait that excited and compelled me to want to photograph him as much as what he said about his “sweetie.” His appearance and what he said were such a contradiction. He was a gentle sweet man.

  The stubborn independent self-willed spirit that possessed this man is common to Appalachian people. I’ve known many Kentucky Vietnam vets with this similar unique spirit, which has rescued our country, but sometimes isolated our solders and others. Junior had found something special that made his life feel different and good within a cruel sea of white adversity. He was to have it no matter what the cost.  He was willing to die for it with no regrets. How some must have envied him and hated him. His life has helped me to discover, we all have some of this spirit and that is why I photograph folks like Junior. 

Junior Bryant, 1986
unpublished
Rocky Hollow


Shelby Lee Adams
Posted June 2020, dedicated to  the memory of George Floyd.

_____________________________________________


________________________________________________________

Corrine


Corrine with Aunt Pauline, 1976
Printed 1980



Corrine, 1976
unpublished



Corrine, 1977




Corrine in Boots, 1977



Corrine, 1979




Corrine, 1981



Corrine and Baby, 1983
Published in Appalachian Portraits, 1993



Corrine with her 3 sons, 1983



Corrine and Selina, 2015
[sisters]
unpublished

Glancing at an artist’s pictures isn’t enough to bring about a transformation of how we see the dispossessed at home or in the larger world, positive or negative. Images need to be studied again and again to help us recognize, adapting to and understand another’s situation and humanity, discovering our common ground. Significant photographs speak to us revealing and reflecting humanity’s mutual vulnerability, linking us together as one, no matter how diverse. Looking & mirroring back and forth reflects how different we are to each other.  When engaged with each other we become attuned inter-relating. Empathy for another can flourish and with our values focused we can expand our compassion and love for each other. But we do have to toil to find and see this, discovering our own authentic vision.

–– Shelby Lee Adams



__________________________________



Grandpa Banks [left] With His Brother George, 1974
Ages 82 and 85, [Polaroid 4x5 film.]
Printed 2019


Self-Portrait with Granny, 1974
Printed in 1970's




In Our Holler

In our holler, we grew up bonding or rejecting each other with varied and inconsistent emotions about our families, neighbors and specific individuals. The denying part, by some of our people to our less positioned folk is what erodes and replaces our authenticity. We really can’t hide our roots, we are here for that depiction, to accept all. Everyone needs and desires acceptance and affirmation with respect that defines a complete human being. Each of us is here ever so briefly, to struggle, envision and clarify, finding in our hearts more common ground or remaining split-off forever. At all levels of our society to save ourselves, we need to be integrating and making in-roads with our diversified yet deeply linked humanity. At least, that is my intentions with my photography, overcoming superficiality by embracing the people straightforwardly, demystifying and dissolving stereotypes, exposing regional and national misunderstandings and prejudice against rural peoples and all peoples in general.


—Shelby Lee Adams



Clothsline, 1997



To view images as slide show or to enlarge any image, click on photos and use arrow keys.
 Over 100 photos on this site.



Richard's Porch, 2000



           A man in Rocky Hollow  said to me, "Living here - its' like the difference between salt and pepper and water and fire. To us Jesus and Satan are real. Both to test, praise, bring peace and put suffering on you and your kin. You have to learn, them who help, those who hinder and some who do both. Our blood flows through the generations sent by way of original sins and determined redemptions, with many behaviors and manners unknown some plum wild. God knows it's man here keeps us this way. One's name and kin determines who works, not who needs or even starves. Here invisible inherited lines you can't see make it nearly impossible for some to work, even seen or talked to. Some down themselves, they feel they come from the wrong blood. That's why they stay in the mountains resisting society. Government handouts and welfare don't change that either."

                                                            —Anonymous 



 Changing with Photographs

         When one is stuck saying, “That’s the way I am and that’s the way I see the world,” then your examination of things is going to almost always be pessimistic, because your cutting yourself off from a part of life. Truly, perceiving involves looking with more of a felt sense and concern, discovering what can bring about a positive and more inclusive change.

         Visualizing to clarify and improve one’s self is optimistic. It is based on the very affirmative expectation of change. Seeing differences embraced doesn’t envision a human being as a fixed structure whose shape can be analyzed once and for all. It envisions a person as part of a process, capable of continual change and forward movement.  The “tribulations” inside one’s self are often those parts of the self that have been stopped, and the aim of focusing and seeing clearly is to unstop them and get your overall vision moving again.  When you are seeing fully and engaged, you not only expect change; you create it in the very act of looking.

         Instead of trying to analyze a difficult portrayal, we should begin by getting in touch with the felt sense of it, all of it, the whole picture at once. The image can open or trigger a special kind of receptivity in which your senses can physically shift, changing your perspective.

         You can never conceptualize all the myriad details in a specific photograph or moment in time. But, having felt the image or images wholeness, you can get in touch with your core self, and then with what lies beneath that, and so on. You focus step by step, until your stumbling block arises; now it’s not the same, you're seeing things more tolerable.

         With a more inclusive view you feel a physical shift in your body and a clearer understanding emerges—which is another way of saying you have changed.

               Inspired by the writings of Dr. Eugene T. Gendlin, PHD. specifically, his book Focusing.

                                                            —Shelby Lee Adams


4  X 5 Polaroid, Callie After Catching Wedding Bouquet, 2002



Making Polaroids in the hollers with it's people for years encourages and creates a visual sensitivity and perception which is intuitive, imaginative and immediate. For those participating in making these images again and again a collaborative partnership is often established.
                                        Shelby Lee Adams 



Final Print, "Callie After Catching Wedding Bouquet," 2002



Preacher Shelby and Family, 1997


The Beauty of a sunset, if you are watching it sensitively, is shared by all human beings. It is not your settings in the west, east, north or south; it is the sunset that is important. And our consciousness, in which is included our reactions and actions, our ideas and concepts and patterns, systems of belief, ideologies, fears, pleasures, faith, the worship of something which we have projected, our sorrows, our griefs and pain—all this is shared by all human beings. When we suffer we have made it into a personal affair. We shut out all suffering of mankind. Like pleasure; we treat pleasure as a private thing, ours, the excitement of it and so on. We forget that man—including woman, of course, which we needn’t repeat—that man has suffered from time beyond all measure. And that suffering is the ground on which we all stand. It is shared by all human beings.

                                                             Krishnamurti  


Aunt Dorthy, 1975
unpublished



Grandpa [Lee Banks], 1978
unpublished



92 Year Old Man Looking through Screen Door, 1974
unpublished

Many Folks know my photography and come to share a part of themselves before my camera, as if to say, “This is what I am, and all I am.” They offer an unflinching, honest view into their lives and world, seeking neither to judge nor be judged, only accepted for who they are. I have discovered, also, that in varying degrees and forms, this rural way of life exists in many other places, communities and cultures around the world.

                                                               Shelby Lee Adams
                                     Published in Photo District News
                                                                       Feb. 2012


Chloe, Saul, KY, 2000
Printed 2021

Focusing

For some of us looking at pictures just isn’t enough to bring about expanding attitudes in how we see the poor or disabled. We need to identify our holdbacks and change within, the way we see and think. A letting go, a dropping of the reins so to speak is necessary, something bodily felt and moved inside has to happen to open us to a more inclusive life. Overcoming our fears of those different both economically and in the flesh is one purpose of my photography, while broadening our acceptance of others and learning to tolerate diversity throughout our lands. Anger is a big blocking devise we use when we don’t wish to face differences or difficulty. If we looked and listened more to those we feel that shame us, we could discover the richness basic folks have to offer. The old ones say we return to the dust nonetheless, so why resist one another?

Shelby Lee Adams





Coal Miner, 1993, Little Leatherwood
unpublished


In those days everybody knew
everybody else, and knew what he was 
doing, and what his father and grandfather 
had done before him, and you even knew 
what everybody ate; and when you saw
somebody passing, you knew where he
was going, and families didn’t scatter all
over the place, and people didn’t go away
to die in the poor house.

Giovanni Verga,
The House by the Medlar Tree


From James Still’s Book, Patterns Of A Man & Other Stories
________________________________________________


Anne


Anne with Pigeon, 1995
Published in salt & truth, 2012




Anne with her son Richmond, 1989




Anne, 1985
unpublished




Anne, 1987





Anne and Richmond in Kitchen, 1992


___________________________________________________



        "It is not too much of a stretch to say that you can almost see their souls."

                                                          —Rick Bragg
                                                          Author, All Over but the Shoutin’

    ________________________________________________________________________________





Sam Mullins and Wife [Sam was 102 years old when photo was made], 1988




"Your pictures, they are about culture, showing how different people live, how one person is just different than another. You got to learn how to deal with all people. It's just like black people and white people. You know some racist, they look at it different. Not me, I look at it totally different. That's what your tryin' to show people, to me.



 That's a part of our church and everything here, in Eastern Kentucky, about God. There's love and kindness in all things and take a man, as who he is. I'm more accepting of all peoples, denominations in church, races and whatever you want to call it. I see good in all people. I've seen your ways, from growin' up under you; you're tryin' to teach people. 


 I've watched you. You're showin' they's somethin' good in all of us, as individual people. It don't take a well knowledge'd person to understand the feelin' of love and kindness, when you see it in someone and their works, you feel it."


—Terry Riddle, Viper, KY, October 2007




Rachel, Jerry and Hooch-A-Pap, 1987
Beech Fork





 Portraits from the Mountains


                     Rachel Riddle, one of his best holler friends, who he's known and photographed for about 28 years, describes the financial and moral support Adams has provided, whether it's helping to drill a well or replace a stove that's burned up. 


         "He's not trying to make something that it ain't. Makes it come out just like it ought to be. I really appreciate everything he's done for me. He's helped me out many different ways. He's like family. He's always been that way. One of these day's, I'll be a part of history. Long after I'm gone, the photographs will still be here."


—Rachel Riddle
Black & White Magazine, 2010





Newsome Boy, 4X5 Polaroids, 1989


         This video illustrates in part how I work with my people. The program ends with my friend Hort Collins singing a spiritual hymn in the authentic mountain tradition. Link Below.







Kizzie, 2008
printed 2010



               Kizzie, blind from the age of 16 loves being photographed, and when I call and arrange a visit she is always dressed and ready, her sister Martha assists her.  I never tell her what to wear or how to pose, sometimes I indicate where she should stand and Martha helps position her or poses with her. She likes to wear glasses and a watch, as she did before her blindness occurred.  Listening to my voice, she often decides how to pose. She is an ideal model. Martha describes to Kizzie in detail each Polaroid as we make them and we move, build and create an image together.



Martha and Kizzie in Mirror, 2005
Printed 2008




Merle, 1985
unpublished
Hindman



                "But still, there is something which isn't yet clear—which I can't get with. Although there is real and warm love within families—there is something extremely opposite that—which manifest itself in feuds, shootings, cuttings, etc."
                                                             —John Cohen
                                                           Capturing The South




John and Teresa, 2008
unpublished
Eagle's Nest 



Angie, 1992
unpublished
Leatherwood




Teresa and Family, 03
As published in Salt & Truth



                  Teresa and her 3 sons had lost their father in the Afghanistan War. When I asked to make a family portrait, to my surprise the boys ran for a stuffed raccoon from the mantel and began to argue about who should hold it, as it held their fathers dog tags. To them the raccoon immortalized the last image of the boy's father. After making several Polaroids in varied ways we exposed the  film below with the 4x5 camera. The bottom left image is the one I selected to print.


4x5 contact sheets
Will post original 4x5 Polaroids when they are found.






Linda, Girl with Big Eyes, 1982




Linda, 2007




        “Shelby Lee Adams’s subjects peer at the camera with an immodest curiosity. The viewers peer back, creating a circular scrutiny, an unsettling intensity—an education, as we turn page after page [scroll] of portraits which evoke fear, anger, compassion, empathy, and finally, a deeper connection to the brotherhood of Man.”

Quote from Appalachian Portraits endorsement, photographers first book published 1993.

—Robert Coles
Author Children of Crisis series 

_______________________________________________________________________




Jacobs



Rosa Lee and Junior, 1986




The Jacobs Boys, 1984




Paul and Jerry, 1985




Paul with Mother and Bucket, 1985
Beaver




Darlene [Mrs. Jacobs], 1985




Darlene, 1985, printed 24




             We took pictures of the boys, who fought over the Polaroids, ruining several. I photographed Rosa Lee with her baby, with Junior, with her father. Mrs. Jacobs refused to let me photograph her on the first visit, saying that she would have to get to know me before she would have her picture made. When I returned in January of 1984 and gave the family several photos made that summer before and on a Christmas visit, Mrs. Jacobs asked me to take a picture of her and Baby Jerry. From then on, we have made family portraits.

Published in Appalachian Legacy, 1998, The University Press of Mississippi.


_______________________________________________________________________




           "I'm building me a house on Short Creek. Tell Adam Claiborne that. The reason I've just come from Bee Tree. Bee Tree is the next hollow to Short Fork, and Short Fork is over yonder ridge. Well s'r, I was over on Bee Tree and saw another woman. A widow woman She's older'n me, five to seven years. She didn't tell me but she has the looks of it. She says, 'I want to get married,' and I says, I do too.' So I'm building me a house and I'm going to put her in it."

—James Still
Encounter on Keg Branch*





Girl under Tree, 1985

unpublished





Shauna Faye and Stephanie Lynn, 2001 








         “Most mountain people, among ourselves are just open and loving to each other, we expect everyone to see us as we do—more caring, but some never here before, misunderstand, label and see us all unfairly.”

—Rachel Riddle, Leatherwood, Kentucky





Coalminer, 1988
published in Appalachian Portraits, 1993





Coal Pile, 2005




The Porch [Photo made in North Georgia], 1993




untitled [Photo made in East Texas], 1995




Haywood, 2000



Bobby, 2003
unpublished






          "That's all any story is, you catch this fluidity which is human life and you focus a light on it and you stop it long enough for people to be able to see it.

—William Faulkner



Arnold, 93 




______________________________________________


The Slone's


Leddie, 1983



Lonnie and Leddie [Sisters], 1985 



Dan



Dan, Krissy and Leddie, 1993


Dan ad Flossie [inside], 99



Dan and Flossie [outside], 99



Dan and Flossie, 01



Dan Driving Straight To Hell, 98



Dan, 2005
Printed 2022




Bert, 1989


Bert with Guitar, 92



Bert Holding Home-Made Musical Harp, 1987



Bert with Jesus Pictures, 92




Lonnie and Bert, 1990




Leddie, Lonnie and Bert, 1988



Lonnie, 1985



Leddie, 1986



"Leddie with Children," 1990, Published in 1993 cover image for first book.




Wanda Lee and Stacy [Dan's daughter and granddaughter], 1985




Pete and Stacy, 99 [Rough Scan]




The Old Home Place, 1997
[Slone's old home, now gone, where we made many photographs.]



           I coat and give some 4x5 Polaroids to everyone. I have not photographed Roland Johnson [man center on porch] before and do not expect to see him again. I ask him if he will sign a model release for me so that I could use this picture in one of my books. I always hate this part of my work, but Roland surprises me. He slaps his knees and says, " I was hopin' you'd get a picture of me for one of your books. I know all about you. I studied your pictures in the pen. You're like Danny Lyons, Bruce Davidson, and all them guys. I studied photography when I was in the La Grange State Penitentiary, and I know a lot about your pictures. "He continues, "What you are doing is expressin' yourself and showin' how you feel about us. Not everybody can do that! You'd do what you're doin' even if it cost you money, because you're interested in doin' what you love. You can see that in your pictures. Yeah, let me sign one of them model releases, I'd love to be in one of your books." I am somewhat taken back by this response and would later try to reproduce it as accurately as possible. I was not to meet Ronald again; Wanda Lee would later tell me that he was back in prison for breaking parole.

Published in Appalachian Lives, 2003, University of Mississippi Press.


Leddie, 2002
[Our last photo.]




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           Is it not one’s socio-economic-political status in life that grants one’s visibility as something more important or less significant? In portraiture and human representation, faced with the inconsistency or incompleteness of a person’s form, some feel entitled to say dispassionately, that face is unsightly and unimportant, especially those who look poor. If given a chance, cannot any form of humanity be elevated, redeemed and transformed by a faithful artistic portrayal?

—Shelby Lee Adams



Belinda and Martha, 2007




Vedessa and Robert, 2005



Ted and Friend, 2004




            "Any but the most casual of viewers will be drawn into relationship with Adams' friends. Their eyes reveal that, unlike ordinary portraits, these "subjects" are looking through the window of the camera into our own faces, plumbing our depths, searching our cores to know what we are really like. And who, indeed, are we? Perhaps they know more than we."

           "A book to be lived with, not merely scanned, Appalachian Portraits is both art and documentary. It is an unforgettable book, as Harvard's Robert Coles says, of "unsettling intensity."


        —John B. Stephenson, president of Berea College
              Lexington Herald-Leader, December 12, 1993




Reece and Martha Cole, 1999




Blind Preacher, 1997






Minerva and Jimmy, 1991




Prayer Before River Baptism





The New Bicycle, 2004



Polly, 1997



               “You don’t make a photograph just with a camera. You bring to the act of photography all the pictures you have seen, the books you have read, the music you have heard, the people you have loved.”
                                                                                    —Ansel Adams




Dan and Jip, 1991  [father and son]




Dan and Jip, 2012




Granny with Jesus, 1992
Hooterville



Leonard's Back Porch, 1992




Brenda in Pistol City, 1983





Aunt Glade, 1975
Johnson's Fork



Travis, 2004



David, Bad To The Bones, 1985



Bobby, 1982
Pistol City




Dressed Up Stove Pipe, 1994

Photoworkshop 1995, Groningen, The Netherlands 
Environmental Portraiture 
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"Just name a thing you want...I'll bring you a pretty."

—James Still
Pattern Of A Man & Other Stories*




Tools, 1994





Sight


Singularly, sight alone can be taken for granted, it often bounds our feelings and restricts our relationships to those so like ourselves, because we don't always want to work exploring our diverse cultures and peoples, remaining in our comfort zone.

The experience of an affirmative touch, a reassuring look, one's scent, a supporting hug all creates positive bonding—developing relationships, no 
matter what one's appearance, color or clan.

Acceptance begins with sight, then touch and an expanding heart together, all unifies us, making whole.

Yet, many resist when they see arduous differences. I have experience overcoming fears of the different, learning to keep myself flexible in the presence of others diverse. It takes practice sometimes with those more difficult.

Remaining indifferent and distancing implies the inability to connect with or acknowledge how another is, feels or perceives.

—Shelby Lee Adams

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Copies of salt & truth are still available.

Published 2012, Candela Books, Richmond, VA.



The Center for Creative Photography at Tucson is assembling a permanent collection and archive of my work. Currently over 150 images are available to view at the link below.




CCP/SLA Archive


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Armeldia


Kelly and Armeldia, 1983



Armeldia, 1983



Armeldia, 1993


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Truth

              “The Stories get past on and the truth gets passed over. As the sayin goes. Which I reckon some would take as meanin that the truth cant compete. But I don’t believe that. I think that when the lies are told and forgotten the truth will be there yet. It don’t move about from place to place and it dont change from time to time. You cant corrupt it any more than you can salt salt. You cant corrupt it because that’s what it is. It’s the thing you’re talking about. I’ve heard it compared to the rock-maybe in the bible-and I wouldn’t disagree with that. But it’ll be here even when the rock is gone.”

“You were doin something for folks that couldnt do it for theirselves.” 

“I think the truth is always simple. It has pretty much got to be. It needs to be simple enough for a child to understand. Otherwise it’d be too late. By the time you figured it out it would be too late.”

Cormac McCarthy

No Country For Old Men*

________________________________________


Tammy


Tammy, 1977




Tammy with Shucky Beans, 1983



Roxanne Doorway, 1983
[Tammy in doorway]



Tammy, 1987



Tammy, 1996




Tammy, 2003


             Describing the home in which Tammy was born, her brothers said, "It was a two-room wood plank shotgun house with a door at each end and three windows, was all it had. The walls were covered with roofing paper, cardboard was nailed up over that, and then wallpaper was put on to cover that and to look nice. Before Tammy was born there were five of us children living with Mommy  in that house. The house only had one stone fireplace in the middle. Our mother used that to keep us warm and cook with. She used an old metal grill, like out of an old refrigerator, to put pots and pans on to cook with in the fire place. We used wood and coal for fuel. Six months before Tammy was born our mother had just got our first electric cooking stove."

Original story published in 1998 in Appalachian Legacy, by The University Press of Mississippi, author Shelby Lee Adams.


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Melony, 1985
Neon



Troy [age 95] 2003




Shelby and Troy, 2003




        "I stilled my own whiskey, raised my own bread and meat, growed the tobacco I chew, done a mite of everything, and not to much of anything."

—James Still
Pattern of a Man and Other Stories*




Claude with Rooster, 2005
Mud Lick



Ronnie Holding Jeremy, 08
Unpublished




William and Breanna, 2003
unpublished





Girl at Kingdom Come Creek, 1987



Estill, 1990, 4x5 Polaroid above.

 All photo sessions began by sharing and giving my subjects Polaroids, from 1974 - 2010 this was my procedure. By 2010 4x5 Polaroid film was no longer available, then I began working with a digital camera so I could still show and share images visually with my subjects as we made photographs. Except with a few new subjects my manner of working was well established.




The Granite Man, 1979
From series: Stenger's Cafe


      In the mountains when someone opens their door to you, they open their hearts to you forever. This is part of the drawing power of the mountains and its people, that makes this process an Eternal Returning. This drawing power perhaps not accessible to all.
—Shelby Lee Adams






Johnny, 1988




Hall's Family Porch, 98




Boys at Hog Pen, 1981
Roxana 




Grandpa's Chair, 1971




Vicco, 1997



Arnold's Living Room Wall, 2002



______________________________



Below not a mountain writer but an important message by 
Robert F. Kennedy.






All photographs and text copyrighted - © 1998-2023 Shelby Lee Adams, legal action will be taken to represent the photographer/writer, work taken out of context, integrity of all photographic and written works to be maintained, including additional photographers published and authors quoted. Permissions - send e mail request with project descriptions.

Robert F. Kennedy Library Copyrighted. *McCarthy quote from No Country For Old Men, chapter V, Knopf edition, 2005, NY *James Still, Pattern Of A Man & Other Stories, Published by Gnomon Press, Copyright 1976 James Still, Still lived and wrote most of his work in the same area I do my photography. His writing and use of diction and descriptive phrases are true to the peoples dialect.
Appalachian Legacy, Shelby Lee Adams, published 1998, University Press of Mississippi, Excerpts from Tammy story and the Jacobs. Additional excerpts from Salt & Truth, 2012, Candela Books, Richmond, VA

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