Back at Snug Valley

I have always been good at remembering faces, particularly the faces of people I have photographed. The name may take a moment to return, but the encounter remains intact: the way someone holds themselves, how the light gives shape to their expression, the feeling of observing them carefully through the lens. When I recognize a face years later, there is an immediate sense of confirmation, almost cellular, that we have been connected by the camera at some point.

That happened recently at Snug Valley Farm. I was there photographing Ben for the Intervale Center when I realized that I had photographed him seventeen years earlier for a story in The Boston Globe. At the time, the story was about his firewood operation. The assignment and its circumstances had receded from memory, but his face had not.

Making a portrait requires a particular kind of attention. Even during a brief encounter, you study another person closely, watching for the small changes that reveal something of who they are and how they inhabit the frame. The moments you are watching for may last mere fractions of a second, but that focused attention leaves an indelible imprint.

The first photograph here is the portrait I made of Ben in 2009. The photographs that follow were made this September at Snug Valley Farm.