False Hellebore 1926

Imogen Cunningham made this photograph of a False Hellebore, probably sometime in the first half of the twentieth century, using a camera and photographic paper. The soft grays and subtle variations in tone give the plant a sculptural quality, like a Brancusi sculpture. I’m interested in the way Cunningham coaxes form from light, like a painter coaxes form from paint. The texture of the leaves, the way they seem to unfurl and reach, it feels almost tactile, doesn’t it? My eye is drawn to the lower leaves, how they curl like waves. They are dark, but not without a glimmer of reflected light. It’s as if they are holding secrets, maybe of some kind of primordial, botanical language. Thinking about Cunningham’s work, I'm reminded of Georgia O'Keeffe's flower paintings. Both artists share a keen eye for detail, abstraction, and the sensuality of natural forms. It's all about seeing the world in new ways, and making the familiar strange.