Swolgaard sees with an old eye

In an age where photography has seen the rise of the mega mega-pixel digital camera, photographs can be stored as ones and zeros, rather than in an emulsion of organic compounds and the word “photoshop” has transmogrified from noun to verb, Tyler Swolgaard is taking a decidedly old-fashioned tack to an ancient art.

In an age where photography has seen the rise of the mega mega-pixel digital camera, photographs can be stored as ones and zeros, rather than in an emulsion of organic compounds and the word “photoshop” has transmogrified from noun to verb, Tyler Swolgaard is taking a decidedly old-fashioned tack to an ancient art.

It is a time and labor-intensive approach that, appropriately enough, he is applying to long-forgotten subjects.

“I’m shooting man’s creations that are almost dying,” said Swolgaard, “things that aren’t going to be around for future generations to see — the history of the old world.”

Doing so effectively takes more than an old-world process — which Swolgaard has learned during his three years at the prestigious Brooks Institute of Photography in southern California. It takes an old eye — an old soul, if you will — to get it right. And Swolgaard’s instructors have nurtured the vision that he seems to have always had.

“Anything old just really fascinates me,” said the 23-year-old. “One of my favorite things is to find an old house — to sit down and look at it for a half-hour or so. I imagine what it was like when it was fully operational, to see how it worked.”

Swolgaard’s photographs evoke a quiet sense of passage, small glimpses of a forgotten world that serve as silent reminder of how quickly things become obsolete and forgotten, and how quickly we dismiss the tales they may have to tell.

The ancient hulk of an abandoned automobile is barely distinguishable from decades of overgrowth. Layers of moss cover what may have been the car that someone’s firstborn was driven home in.

A new day’s sunlight streams into an ancient attic, illuminating the emptiness. One first imagines 100 years of dust on every horizontal surface, but the image prods one into nostalgia and the contents of a grandparent’s attic can clearly be visualized — steamer trunks and bureaus and hidden treasures could clutter the space.

A simple staircase cuts a 45-degree angle through Swolgaard’s frame, and one can almost picture a pressed-and-petticoated little girl rushing down the steps for a Sunday picnic – then realize that little girl is probably in her nineties now. What stories she would have to tell.

Easy Rider

Swolgaard realized that his day job delivering cheese and pesto to Seattle-area grocers after graduating from Bainbridge High School was not what he was supposed to be doing with his life.

He decided to pack a sleeping bag, a single change of clothing and a camera on the back of his motorcycle, “Easy Rider”-style, and follow his internal compass south toward Arizona. Four days later, he found the Grand Canyon state to be miserably hot, and promptly returned to the northwest.

But a seed planted by a friend in Santa Barbara, Calif. on the return trip began to take root. Swolgaard decided to quit his job and attend the Brooks Institute to study photography.

He focused on traditional methods of processing and printing that complimented his old-world style of shooting — including silver gelatin and platinum printing — and while a number of his Brooks companions were learning the ins-and-outs of digital photography, Swolgaard was exhausting the school’s entire slate of darkroom classes.

“I’m more of a craftsman,” said Swolgaard. “I like the creation part, and I’d rather spend 12 hours in a darkroom instead of 12 hours in front of a computer.”

Swolgaard cites a number of Brooks instructors as recent influences, instrumental in pushing his to refine his personal photographic style and “to get me to do things I might never have done.”

But he credits BHS photography instructor Linda Holsman and local photo lab proprietor Nick Felkey for early encouragement to pursue photography.

“Linda helps out a lot of kids with her photography program, and Nick, he’s always got great input to give you.”

Armed with a bachelor’s degree, Swolgaard will return to Bainbridge Island this fall. He hopes to set up a darkroom and offer custom black-and-white processing and printing, while continuing to work construction with his father.

“That’ll help pay the bills,” said Swolgaard, who is already planning his next motorcycle road trip — a seven-month jaunt across the United States.

“I’d like to shoot over 1,000 rolls of film,” said Swolgaard. “It’ll give me a nice wide range of things for a portfolio, but it’s more about the self-discovery.”

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Tyler Swolgaard’s “Secret Corners” photography is on display at Art Soup through Sept. 1. Call 842-1315.