Point and shoot

Waterfire Festival and Point Judith serve as photographer's inspiration

by Leon Nigrosh

PHYLLIS A. OLLARI-PARENT
At the First Show Gallery, C.C. Lowell, 258 Park Avenue, Worcester, through May 10

Accidents happen, the phrase goes. And it is this serendipitous attitude that photographer Phyllis Ollari-Parent adopted

for first one-artist exhibit, currently on display at C. C. Lowell, by selecting 16 images from several series that explore options available to the discerning photographer.

Standing on the rocks of Point Judith, Rhode Island, on a crisp, bright day, Ollari-Parent shot the waves crashing against the jetty using a roll of black-and-white film. Back in the darkroom, as she was preparing to develop her negatives, she accidentally dropped the film canister. Instead of failure, this near disaster brought an aura of immediacy to her images -- much like the technical glitches that heighten the emotion in Robert Capa's 1944 D-Day invasion pictures. The light streaks in her Point Judith Version I add to the roiling sea as it engulfs the blocky slabs of granite, while the surprise light flashes in Point Judith Version III enhance the natural reaction of the water as it explodes against immovable stones.

Another darkroom accident lends a spectral feeling to her Post Crucifixion -- a close-up of a sculpture of Jesus being taken down from his cross. The sculpture itself is worthy of note. It is one of many hand-carved images from Russia on the grounds of St. Anne's Shrine in Sturbridge. Ollari-Parent's extreme close-up is a dramatic array of curvilinear light and dark forms as seen through a wispy web of tiny mosaic-like lines. But this filigree occurred unexpectedly on the negative because she had added water that was either too hot or too cold during the development. This particular consequence, known as reticulation, is usually a disaster; but in this case, the ethereal effect enhances the image's intended passion.

Ollari-Parent's "Waterfire" series, on display for the first time, came about not exactly by accident, but through her disappointment with her original results. She had gone to the pretty end of the Blackstone Canal in Providence to photograph the Waterfire Festival -- several evenings of fiery sculptural displays floating on the water, along with Italianate gondolas and musical accompaniment -- which draws thousands of people. Hoping to catch the flavor of the event without resorting to flash photography, she used 3200 speed film to make her pictures. But she found the prints flat and dark, devoid of any background information. So she decided to try using infrared film.

Unlike typical black-and-white film, infrared records unseen reflected light and alters the printed image according to the temperature of the objects photographed: warm things photograph brightly, colder things darken. But the alluring quality is that it often produces totally unexpected results that create images the photographer could not have imagined ahead of time.

Armed with rolls of infrared film, Ollari-Parent again attended the festival and came away with a group of otherworldly images, saturated with bright, vaporous light surrounded by ghostly architectural elements. No darkroom trickery or accidents were needed to create these spectral images. Her Waterfire Version III captures the glow of the fires as they float along the river and illuminate the buildings. An empyreal orb dominates the composition, appearing to linger above the festivities much like a UFO. Guess what, this astonishing element is in reality only a lens flare -- usually considered to be a photographic error.

The combination of hand-held camera and infrared film produce a different view in Waterfire Version I. Here the nine o'clock sky appears to be dawning, silhouetting the building stacks, which enfold the crowds that dissolve into a rhythmic pattern across the darkened middle ground. Streetlights and fire elements compete for attention in the inky waterway. Can you find the gondola?

As captivating as these night images are, infrared film can work its magic in daylight, too. Turning the usual landscape photograph topsy-turvy in Ollari-Parent's Ritual, North Salem, NH, resting hikers almost disappear into the scenery in a shady glen where the leafy trees transform into cotton and the summer grass appears to be coated with snowflakes.

With the exception of three earlier routine shots of Worcester's gray and gritty streets, most of Ollari-Parent's photographs in this exhibit, whether produced through accidental activity or not, are fascinating and imaginative. Her concentration on capturing the moment on film, and her ability to work through darkroom adversity, hold promise for future images that are even more engaging.

The gallery is open Monday through Friday from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m., on Saturday from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., and on Sunday from noon to 5 p.m. Call (508) 757-7713.