Since the earliest origins of portraiture, it's been supposed that a portrait unveils a truth about its subject that's typically hidden from sight -- and because of the nature of this revelation, a portrait is as much about the artist and the beholder as it is about the person being beheld.
I asked photographer Jeff Klapperich, to explain the technique behind the lavish, visually complex portraits in his series entitled Emerging. "My work is all multiple exposures using technology that has been around since the beginning of photography," he says. "I take the initial portrait then break that down into 10 or so tones and make a painting based on each of those. I shoot large format negatives, they load one at a time and are very easy to expose multiple times. The paintings match the size of the film, and sit in front of the film during each exposure. I then build a sculpture to mimic the shape of the face/figure composed of all the content in the image." Finally, through a process of layering under exposures of the same image, he gets the image of the face or figure to appear.
The effect is fascinating to me -- the layering process adds a metaphorical dimension to each portrait that is simultaneously revealing and mysterious. "There is no actual exposure of a face/figure in the end product," says Klapperich. "It’s a good combination of painting, photography and sculpture." He comments that the series is definitely Tarot-inspired: "I am currently working on my own version of the Fool entitled, ‘The Harlequin’... I think in a roundabout way I’ll have finished my own version of the Major Arcana without even setting out to do so."
Singling out his portrait "The Star" to for this post was a no-brainer. After all, every man and woman is a star (or so I've heard); we each seem common and insignificant to each other from far away -- we must be observed up close before it's clear how vital we are, presiding over entire worlds. While we start out in life having that incandescent up-close view of our true selves, life's trials, comforts, and illusions conspire to pull us away, until eventually we can barely see that tiny, flickering light that signifies our unique presence in the cosmos. The journey back to it requires us to cross the void alone, but as long as we have a glimpse of our true self beckoning in the distance, we burn that most precious of fuels: hope.
While this is by definition a solitary venture, it's not uncommon to encounter kindred spirits along the way. As we travel, we provide each other with reflected glimpses of ourselves, consciously or otherwise; in doing so, we discover an ever-greater appreciation for our own endeavor, navigating our own inner distance.
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