The travel industry saw a tremendous explosion of growth within the later part of the 20th Century, and that growth has continued into the new millennium. Destinations that once took months to reach by steamer, train, and torturous camel safari, are now visited after only a few tedious hours in the relative comfort of a jumbo jet. Journeys and adventures that were once considered exclusively within the realm of the privileged few have become affordable to backpackers and tourists of all sorts. "Exotic" destinations are no longer reserved for the brave of heart, the strong bodied, and the well-financed. This democratization of travel is by and large a good thing. Coupled with the global reach of the Internet, travel has aided direct communication and understanding among the world's diverse populations.
But with these advances, much has also been lost.
Over the past ten years I have worked to create a body of photographs that in a small way imbues travel with the mystique of its past. I do not see these images as a factual record of my actual journeys. I do not see them as documentation of particular cultures, peoples, or places. On one level, there is a lot of untruth in what I do. I see my photography as the conscious creation of a myth. It is the myth of beauty, romance, adventure, discovery and exoticism that once was an unquestioned mainstay in every traveler's lexicon.
I have used late 19th Century ways of seeing and early 20th Century Pictorialism as an aesthetic guide, but I have not felt constrained to blindly adhere to those styles. I tend to avoid references to the modern world, seeking to instill my imagery with quiet timelessness. This is not to say that the occasional television antenna never pokes itself into any of my pictures. It is indeed possible to find clues to the modern world in many of these photographs. But I strive for an overall feel that is removed from what is jarringly contemporary.
Thus, a landscape of a desert pool, lined with palm trees, fails to include the Toyota Landcruiser that is parked at its side. The portrait of a Moroccan man, in native dress, delivers a half-truth that does not include the businessman on his cell-phone a few steps away. The moody shot of an ancient temple keeps the sign that advertises Nike shoes just out of frame. This is myth-making as much by omission as by inclusion. Travel photographers have indulged in this kind of selective reportage since the late 19th Century. In ways, I'm just following an established tradition of Romantic lying.
I take inspiration from a range of photographers as diverse as Edward Curtis, Henry Hamilton Bennett, Eugene Atget, William Henry Jackson, August Sander, and even, oddly enough, Cindy Sherman. I produce landscapes, portraits, genre scenes, architectural studies, and self-portraits. It is hoped that the viewer will combine these images in his or her head, and through their composite effect regain a sense of travel as mysterious adventure and spiritual journey.
The prints I make are sepia toned. This process involves first making a standard silver gelatin print, then immersing it in a solution of potassium ferricyanide. This "bleach bath" causes the printed image to fade away, and eventually disappear. The print is then washed, and placed in a tray containing a solution of sodium sulfide. This causes the image to reappear in rich brown tones. Sepia toning my photographs helps remove the images from the present day, and realigns them with a mythic, invented world.
All of my prints are made on fiber-based silver gelatin papers. They are archivally fixed, toned, and washed. An embossing stamp places the initials W. X W. at the lower right hand edge of the border surrounding the image. The print is then signed in pencil on the reverse. Each print is set within an eight ply acid free matt, with the use of archival, transparent photo corners. The finished matted photographs are hinged and stored in museum quality portfolio boxes, or framed for exhibition.