Justin Clifford Rhody
Vernacular Visions was a public slideshow series of found 35mm photo slides, curated and presented by Justin Rhody 2013-2018. Each distinctive program is accompanied by a unique audio mix of related (and unrelated) sounds & musics. And now,Vernacular Visions makes its online debut! Check out the video below for a special Vernacular Visions slideshow.
Can you tell us a little bit about yourself?
JCR: My name is Justin Clifford Rhody and I currently live in New Mexico (via Oakland CA, via the Midwest). Recently I began fishing. I never catch anything, but it works well as an excuse to wake up at dawn and sit silently in one place. I actually have no idea what I would do if a fish did bite down. For me, it’s more of a scenic byway leading to god knows where.
I was struck by the similar moods of Vernacular Visions and The Casserole Series. From my understanding, both work to provide open and inclusive space for a shared experience. For The Casserole Series you have transferred Vernacular Visions from an event to an art piece. Can you speak about how Vernacular Visions originally operated?
JCR: While living in Oakland I began buying thousands of slide photos from local junk stores, just to project them at home and study a form of photography that wasn’t as accessible through the profit-driven canon of galleries and books. These were all amateur snapshots with most being terribly mundane, but every once in a while a gem would poke through and overshadow the time spent digging. As these greatest hits began to accumulate and I had enough for an hour-long program, I decided to try for a public presentation. I found an electrical outlet in the park surrounding Lake Merritt, made a few flyers and just plugged in. People seemed to really enjoy it and it attracted a cross-section from different scenes/interests, which was nice to see. So I decided to do it again… and again and again. All in all I put together over 30 unique programs from 2013-2018. The program expanded to occasionally offer a platform for a local photographer or filmmaker to present their work as half of the night’s program. The illegal outdoor location on Lake Merritt was great, but eventually “they” seemed to catch on and placed a cover over the outlet (which many homeless people also used to charge cellphones, flashlights, etc. - another gross example of how obnoxiously the streets are policed in the US.) Fortunately there was a thriving underground network in the Bay Area at that time and it was a seamless transition to move the show into a series of warehouses, artist-run spaces, backyards, microcinemas, etc. That community and its commitment to art as an act, not as a commodity, is what fostered and allowed the project to become what it did. Without those people involved I doubt I would have even wanted to do it.
I love the found images. They all seem to be about a second off: a scene of the mountains with someone’s profile accidentally sneaking in at the corner of the frame, a mother and daughter sitting in the glow of magic hour caught in mid blink. They show the awkwardness of life which I read as incredibly honest and tender. The music choices to accompany the images also unite them in an interesting way. I almost feel like I am sitting among my cousins looking through family slides. Can you speak about the relationship between the images and sound?
JCR: Like most things, it’s a mix of random circumstances being lassoed by intention. Occasionally I would include songs because the lyrics mentioned something related to photography, but mostly I’m just juggling variety, the mood and what records or tapes I had on hand. The majority of the time it would honestly just seem to fall into place if I stressed about it enough (Cosmic Pressure™). The image/sound relationship can be tricky though, same as the photo/caption relationship, with one determining the effect of the other in a parasitic draw. It seems to take effort for things to co-exist.
How has your work changed in the last five months?
JCR: For the most part my whole lifestyle feels the same, which I like; dinner at home, local camping trips, reading, the endless self-directed art project… But without the time wasted hustling for cash, I have been able to dig a little deeper and expand on a few things. Sometimes that one extra night of sleeping in the woods can be all it takes - transformative to the point that my “real life” feels like a distant memory and returning home feels like visiting an alien landscape. That disassociation to the routines and the objects I’ve fallen into can feel almost aimlessly liberating - not because it’s hinting at abandonment, but because the recoil is like a personal forensics case. It’s difficult to imagine life in this country returning to customer service.
Casserole of the Week:
Michigan Beans and Sausage Casserole
Another church cookbook favorite (via Taste of Home). A recipe to store away for the upcoming winter months.
Ingredients:
1 lb smoked kielbasa or smoked Polish sausage
1 medium onion, chopped
1 cup ketchup
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons white vinegar
2 tablespoons molasses
2 tablespoons prepared mustard
3 cans (15 1/2 ounces each) great northern beans, rinsed and drained
Directions:
In a large saucepan, cook sausage and onion in boiling water for 2 minutes; drain. In a large bowl, combine the ketchup, sugars, vinegar, molasses and mustard. Stir in beans and sausage mixture.
Transfer to a greased 2-1/2 qt baking dish. Cover and bake at 350 degrees for 1-1/2 hours or until bean mixture reaches desired thickness.