Dorothy Dean is an award-winning photographer currently residing in Honolulu, Hawaii with her husband and two children. Much of her work is documentary and focuses on women’s issues, social commentary and exploring psychological issues (mostly her own) visually. Dorothy received her BASA in Photography from the University of Nebraska-Omaha in May 2008. She plans to attend University of Hawaii- Manoa in 2010 to get her Master of Fine Arts in photography. Her work has been published in books from Globe Pequot Press, Piecework magazine, and, locally, the Hawaii Military Guide, as well as shown in numerous galleries.
Dorothy is very interested in historic and alternative printing. She has recently acquired a large format pinhole camera and is working with it to produce negatives she can use to explore non-silver printing processes. Currently she is experimenting with printing cyanotype on wool and yarn, then using the fiber to deconstruct the image into an object inspired by the photo. In addition, she has become fascinated with carbon transfer and trying to figure out how to incorporate it into her work.
In addition to being a talented photographer, Dorothy is an accomplished fiber artist. She has participated in knitting and spinning demos at both the Hawaii State Art Museum and the Honolulu Academy of Arts and is an active member of the Aloha Knitters.
Dorothy is available for all types of work, from fine art to commercial to wedding and portraiture. You can contact her on her cell phone at 808-342-0072 or by email at dorothydeanphoto@yahoo.com .
Artist Statement
My work is about identity- who we are, who we want to be, how we see ourselves and how we’re seen by others. I delve into the reasons behind the choices we make in our lives by asking people to bare themselves in way that reveals who they are behind their mask, while preserving their anonymity. My goal is to understand why people think they are so different from each other. I want to tear down the barriers between us built by the accepted ideals of what is “normal” or “beautiful”
The only way to make this honesty come across is by using simple organic processes that limit my illusions about the subject, as well as limiting my options for modern technical perfection. I use minimal equipment when photographing people. I lean towards natural light or a simple strobe set up, a handheld camera, and photograph them in their home or in another easy environment. Some sessions are best captured in color, while others need the stark quality of black and white. I let the subject and the setting of my photographs drive the choice of medium- black and white or color, medium or large format, traditional cameras or pinhole/vintage. I’ve found this minimalist approach as well as my own honesty brings a level of trust between me and my subjects. This approach allows me to focus on the image instead of the equipment; turning the image into as much of an object as the subject.
The concept of object versus image has recently captivated me. I’ve begun exploring the transition of an image to an object by experimenting with historic processes. I’m working on applying cyanotype to yarn, then printing the image, unraveling it and using that yarn to knit garments and objects related to the images I’ve deconstructed. While this seems a rather esoteric way to depict the shift, it keeps with the spirit of the organic process. I make my own substrates to make my art wholly my own. I’m not limited by manufacturing practices, software glitches or product unavailability. I own my mistakes, my successes and everything in between.
These processes mesh well with the idea driving these experiments; the role memory plays in our lives. I photograph people and events to break down illusions, to document what really happened. Many times this is at odds with the perceptions people have of that event. The deconstruction of the image into the knitted object shows the process of what people do with their memories. We tend to wrap ourselves in memories, carrying them with us like precious objects and, at times, make the memories more important than what is happening now. The combination of a knitted garment, something we turn to when we are cold or need comfort pairs beautifully with the memories we do the same thing with.
