To develop this symbiotic relationship and stimulate the creative process, the group generates prompts to guide the work they prepare for their regular meetings. These prompts are usually technical in nature, something designed to develop a new skill, but they often serve as catalysts that lead the photographers into the realm of the subjective. “When we meet to discuss an assignment,” Moore says, “we have insights into deeper thoughts and ideas, and that’s an integral part of how the exhibitions are born and how they evolve.”
Last autumn, the group started thinking about the idea of liminality, which led them to contemplate the liminal, or transitional, spaces that surround us. The ensuing discourse evoked observations about the liminality of everyday life, so they decided to make pictures that captured their individual interpretations of this idea.
“It was a challenging topic we chose last fall, never imagining the present times,” says Ann Worthington, referring to the coronavirus pandemic. The prescience of the theme is remarkable as is the extent to which liminality offers the perfect lens to help contemplate the chaos that grips our present world.
“By just recognizing the liminality we are now experiencing,” Hale says, “we are helped to understand that our current limbo is a threshold we are passing through, however slowly and painfully, to what will truly be a different world.”
“We are all living in a fog of uncertainty,” adds Chris Inoue, whose photography career began in the late ‘60s when he helped his father develop film in the dark room of Woods Hole’s Marine Biological Lab. “Liminality provides context, just as the off-season does on the Cape. As a society, we need to accept that this pause, our shared liminality, though painful, costly and deadly, can provide clarity towards a better future for all lives and our planet.”
The group’s most recent photographs, some of which are featured in these pages, seek to portray life in the time of coronavirus. They strive to show the conditions and emotions we all currently feel but cannot always see or articulate.
“Even though I am 74-years-old, I don’t think I was as aware of the precariousness of life as I am right now,” says Kathy Ryman, a Falmouth resident who arrived in 1996 by way of Des Moines, Iowa. “We remain in a dangerous situation. Again, an uncomfortable liminal space.”
As frightening and uncertain as the present moment is, it has also provoked feelings of nostalgia and gratitude. “The current situation has made me feel grateful for the memories of previous travel and happy events,” says Nancy Walbek of Woods Hole. “I’ve realized how much both having made and re-viewing photographs of these places and events enriches the memories. That’s a good reminder of the value of continuing to make new pictures.”
When the pandemic forced the group to cancel the “Liminal Space” show, the photographers of the CPC put the exhibition on hold and went back to pursuing their shared passion: making pictures that facilitate new ways of seeing. This is the kind of perspective we could use now more than ever.
Photography by members of the Cape Photo Collective, reflecting on COVID-19 and the concept of liminality
Kathy Pett Ryman’s work is currently in the exhibition “60/60: Over Sixty Pieces of Art by Women Over Sixty,” Highfield Hall, Falmouth. Artist / Photographer Jon Moore is curating an exhibition “Ancestry / Legacy” to open in September at Highfield Hall in Falmouth.
Elliott Grover is a freelance writer who has contributed since his college days as an intern.
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