Nancy Landin calls her current series of photographs “Small Stories,” because many of them suggest “magical” tales to her. Her subjects are mysterious and suggestive: some leaves on a wall, a broken window, an indistinct nude in gentle light. The colors are soft, supple, sensual, with none of the glossy assertiveness of much conventional color photography–a result of the unusual process she uses to print them.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Landin, 44, a Chicago native who now lives in Evanston, began photographing seriously in her 20s, but resumed taking pictures only after a long hiatus four years ago, while taking classes with Richard Olderman at the Evanston Art Center. From Olderman she learned not to worry too much about technique, an inhibition she’d picked up from an earlier class: “It doesn’t matter that you know the exact f-stop you’re going to use; just go out and do it.”
All viewers may not see everything Landin does in her images, which is fine with her. She leaves her work untitled because titles would “lead people in a direction rather than letting them go where they would.” And Landin’s own interpretations of her images are more associative than literal. In a silhouette profile of her young daughter, mostly black and white, the figure is bathed in whiteness. “The light . . . just went right through her,” says Landin. But her face is concealed, and her body at first glance could be an adult’s. Landin’s portraits usually don’t show faces, partly because, in her words, “it’s not about the person; it’s about the space and the light.”
