Photo grad Seth Adam Cook featured in Lenscratch

Source: Lenscratch

This week we are looking at the work of artists who submitted projects during our last call-for-entries–way back in late-2022 (a new call will be going out sometime in the near future, so stay tuned for details…). Today we are viewing and hearing more about As Big As The Sky by Seth Adam Cook.

Seth Cook is an artist from the Bayou Teche region of south-central Louisiana. He utilizes the swamps and marshes of his home as a point of departure for his versatile studio practice. Cook holds a B.F.A. in studio art from the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, and an M.F.A. in photography from Indiana University, Bloomington. In 2021, he was awarded ‘Juror’s Selection’ from the New York Center for Photographic Art for his alternative process photography. In 2020, he was named one of Lenscratch’s ‘Top 25 to Watch.’ Also, in 2020, he accepted a ten-month residency with Manifest Creative Research Gallery and Drawing Center in Cincinnati, OH, where he worked and taught as their ‘Scholar in Residence.’ His work has been displayed nationally and internationally, including in South Korea, Louisiana, New York, California, Colorado, and Massachusetts.

Follow Seth on Instagram: @s.adamcook.art

When my brother and I were young, our mother would say she loved us “bunches and bunches, as big as the sky.” This phrase stayed with me throughout my life, but it wasn’t until she passed away that I truly understood its significance. Just before her surgery, my mother gave me a camera that she had carried with her since she was young. Despite our closeness, I never knew about this part of her life. With her camera in hand, I began navigating a stream of consciousness around the places, people, and emotions I found myself surrounded by. Her camera became a tool for me to navigate my grief and reflect on the spiritual absence in my family following her death. Since its origins, this series has become a personal and emotional exploration of loss, memory and identity, and is my way of holding onto her memory and the shared passion we had for photography.

Daniel George: In your artist statement, you describe your beginnings making photographs with your mother’s camera. At what point in making these pictures (or perhaps during the editing process) did things really start to materialize and become clear?

Seth Adam Cook: Looking back, the initial days of capturing images with my mother’s camera were more about seeking solace than about understanding the narrative thread binding the photographs. It was a process of navigating through my grief, finding comfort in the familiarity of my family, friends, and the lakes and swamps around my home. When I held her camera and peered through its viewfinder, I wanted to believe I was extending her vision, seeing the world through her eyes. This thought was also comforting, but still felt devoid of intention. I think things only became clear when I began to investigate her photographic archives. It was so enlightening, as the more of her photos I poured over the more I came to see our similarities in perspective and subject. This revelation was transformative, marking a shift from mourning her absence to actively engaging with her legacy. My journey with her camera evolved into more than just navigating grief; it became an intimate act of sustaining and celebrating her spirit, while acknowledging her absence’s impact on my family.

DG: I enjoy your use of the phrase that your mother recited to you and your brother. How do you feel these photographs connect with those words, “as big as the sky?”

SC: When she would recite this phrase, I always thought she was referring to heaven and how her devotion to us mirrored the boundless nature of the heavenly sky. When I began putting my images together, I felt they embodied the expansiveness and depth encapsulated by the phrase she used. In their presentation, many of the images are soft, with highlights blown out and some lens distortion used to bend and shift perspectives, making the images appear dreamy or faded – much like the ever-shifting sky above us.

DG: In your biography, you mention that the swamps and marshes of your home inform your creative works. And many of your images utilize elements of the natural world (horizons, trees, shadows, etc.). What role does place take part in these photographs?

SC: For this series in particular, the places I capture are not just settings but an integral part of the narrative’s heart and soul. Some of these locations are sanctuaries where I sought solace, while others are deeply connected to my mother’s life and legacy. An example is the image titled ‘Mausoleum’— at first glance, it’s the roof of a building silhouetted by the sun. Yet, within the context of this series, its significance is amplified by its title; hopefully leading the viewer to understand its importance as my mother’s place of rest. This image and many like it become more than just physical locations; they are emotional landscapes, each resonating with layers of meaning tied to my narrative and hers.

DG: I am interested to hear your insights into how artistic expression can help process grief. Would you mind sharing your thoughts?

SC: It doesn’t necessarily have to be tailored towards grief, but I believe that true artistic expression can only happen when you place yourself in it. Sometimes that means allowing yourself to be vulnerable and delve into territory you might feel uncomfortable with. When you embody your own experiences, you share a story that is unique to yourself. In my experience, it was not about avoiding my emotions but rather confronting them head-on. Because of this, I realized that art doesn’t just help in managing the plethora of emotions associated with grief; it can also redefine them, giving shape to the intangible and making sense of the unexplainable.

DG: You write that this project represents your method of carrying your mother’s memory. Do you feel that your “shared passion” for photography, specifically through this creative endeavor, effected your relationship even after her passing? If so, in what ways?

SC: Yes, I believe it did. My mother and I were already close before I came across her archive. She was my confidante, and just hearing her voice was enough to shed light on even the darkest day. After her passing, there was a void that could not be filled by someone who embodied the spirit of my family. However, encountering her photographic archive opened a new dimension of connection between us. It was as if I had stumbled upon her inner thoughts and perspectives—a visual diary offering glimpses into her life before her role as a mother. I began to understand her not just as my mother, but as Phyllis Granger, an individual with her own dreams, experiences, and joys. This journey has not only been a way to honor her memory but has also served as a bridge between our shared passion, allowing me to feel her influence and presence every time I use her camera.