It could be anything she wanted β as long as she stuck to a recipe and wrote out the ingredients for her parents. This was the kind of household where the family always ate dinner together and you had to ask to be excused before leaving the table. Lois would arrive about an hour in advance, setting up as subjects prepared their meal, before peppering them with questions.
Who cooks? Why did they choose a particular spot in the house? Do they always eat together? Who does the shopping? How do they plan around busy schedules? The project stretched across states like Oklahoma, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi and Arkansas, with every permutation accounted for: tray tables pulled up to armchairs, kids sprawled across couches and floors, plates next to computers, diners in pairs or sitting in solitude, table tops in various states of order or disarray.
I loved black and white, making prints and the magic of chemistry and light. My parents were encouraging and even helped me set up a very basic darkroom in our basement. Wednesday: Willie Mae.
The first, for my project The Bedroom series, saw her photo run in the local newspaper and she got a lot of local attention about it. To me, the power of this photograph is that she has become an extension of her space that she has so carefully curated. That dichotomy is really interesting to me. Enjoyed this article? Like Huck on Facebook or follow us on Twitter.
What Made Me β In this series, we ask artists and rebels about the forces and experiences that shaped who they are. Her new photobook explores her archive. A new memoir revisits its red light district heyday.
