Jeri Eisenberg

 

By photographing her favorite treed landscapes with a purposefully oversized pinhole or a radically defocused lens, Eisenberg captures them as they are not often seen. The images are firmly grounded in the natural world, a particular place, a particular season, a particular time. But by obscuring detail, only the strongest brush strokes emerge: the images become sketches with light, literally and figuratively. “They float between there and not there”, Eisenberg explains, “dissolving into abstraction and reconfiguring themselves into recognizable form. They are the trees seen through eyelashes of mostly closed eyes on bright sunny days; the trees seen through heavily falling snow; the trees of memory; the trees one might reach for before slipping from conscious life.”

The very soft-focused, painterly images are printed digitally on delicate and translucent Japanese Kozo paper. The large-scale prints contain the barest hint of color in selected values, reminiscent of traditional split-toned photographs. Through the depiction of a succession of seasons, the work echoes life’s temporal cycles. “It succeeds for me” Eisenberg continues, “when it provides fragmentary glimpses of the beauty that exists in the everyday natural world, glimpses that console, even as they are tinged with a sadness of the awareness of their transience. If it provides a hint of the infinite and eternal in the here and now, I am all the more pleased.”

 

Jeri Eisenberg: ‘I feel no need to seek out grand vistas or exotic locales, majestic mountain ranges or rushing rivers. It is the common wooded landscape of my day-to-day life that captures my attention. The images are firmly grounded in the natural world, a particular place, a particular season, a particular time. But by obscuring detail, only the strongest brush strokes emerge: the images become sketches with light, literally and figuratively.’