Robert Demar, Photographer

My love of photography began as a child in the 1950's when I took pictures (which I still have) of each of my school teachers, and documented many family events. But it didn't develop as a true passion until 1976 when I bought a $200 SLR camera body and four used lenses. I felt compelled by an urge to make a visual account of what I thought were very interesting personal times - to not let them slip by unrecorded.

For practice with my new camera, I went to Seattle's First Avenue area, where many homeless street people hang out. I didn't leave until almost five years later, because I realized that I'd found access to the same tragedy that had already, and would continue to deeply affect my own family - alcoholism. These circumstances and a natural ability to communicate and connect with strangers began to lead to serious photographic statements as I worked with the homeless and those suffering alcohol addiction. As I became known in the area, I worked with missions and shelters when they needed a photographer. Encouraged by friends, numerous local awards, and a warehouse day-job, my work matured until 1980 when I had my first solo gallery exhibition, a few of which are shown here in the Colorless Impressions and Wine Flights-Daymares series.

During the late 1970's and 1980's, I turned my camera toward relaxation and sailing, and worked on a series of photographs depicting acquaintances in their customary personal environments; documenting family, friends and events. Some of these important people in my life are now gone. I remember them through photography in Not Forgotten.

One of the “gone but not forgotten” is my younger brother, who owned a Harley shop. And, after buying a motorcycle from him, many opportunities occurred to ride with him and his friends. This led to another photographic series, which I called "Motorcycle People and Places." To this day, I still ride and periodically attend rallies, where I take many candid "portrait" shots of the interesting characters who inhabit the motorcycle world, some of which you can see in the Motorcycle Baditudes and Oyster Run series.

Then in 1990, leaving Seattle about 100 miles South, I moved to the San Juan Islands, which I still call home. At that time, I also made a move to a bigger camera, a medium-format Pentax, and improved dark-room capabilities. During the preceding decade, I'd found myself shifting my attention farther and farther away from the intimacy and dejection I first captured working with the homeless people.

Now the pendulum swung all the way, and I began looking to nature and landscapes for inspiration. I began a detailed encounter with a 1200-acre National Park of nearly unspoiled nature at the southern tip of San Juan Island, attempting to record and portray some of the many moods which occur in its landscapes with the passing seasons. This three year documentary study, American Camp Impressions, led to several exhibitions.

The ferry boats working in northern Puget Sound called to me next. My interest in them went back to the late 1970's and some of the motorcycle rides referred to earlier. But now I wanted to do a serious study, from top to bottom. My camera and I went from aerial views to the engine rooms, attempting to capture not only the impressive fleet of ships, but also the essential character of ferry travel in the San Juan Islands. The passengers, the crews, the islands and the interactions of man, machine and nature all became subjects for composition. This B&W study, Nautical Highways, required the better part of three years and concluded with several shows and publication of a book by the same name.

From the ferry boat project, I returned to nature, this time for a close-up examination of the minute fractures which occur annually in the bark of Madrona trees. This unusual Pacific Coast tree is not found elsewhere in the United States. In the early fall, their peeling bark provides a profusion of textures, patterns, and constantly changing compositions. For three years, armed with macro lens and extension tubes, I explored that world of seldom noticed visual pleasures. Viewers of the resulting B&W exhibition, Madrona Macros, (titled Minor Madrona Moments at that time) have found the temptation to interpret or suggest representation (as in ink blots) almost irresistible.

Repeated exploration of the beautiful eastern slopes of the Cascade Mountains yielded B&W studies of Methow Valley Scenics and Leaners & Squashers (fascinating ruins of early homesteads and farm buildings in the area). Travels along the Oregon coast revealed the panoramic beauty of the Oregon Dunes, amazing textures and patters created by shifting sands.

Then, in the winter of 2002-3, another significant change took place in my photography. I bought a digital camera, a Nikon D-1X. After staying on a course of black and white photography with a traditional chemical dark room for over 25 years, I entered the world of color photography and the digital dark room.

With my new camera, I traveled to fishing marinas throughout Puget Sound, drawn to the piles of purse seining nets, in an on-going photographic exploration and artistic interpretation of the lines, the nets, the floats and assorted equipment used to capture fish in the Pacific Ocean. In my search, I came to realize that a strong sense of history shrouds every mound of nets. This same type of gear was used before the time of Christ. Every knotted net offers testament to the handiwork of man. These concepts eventually found places in the compositions, textures, patterns and colors of my first digital series, Fish Net Variations. This series of visually arresting and compelling subjects was exhibited twice in 2004.

Aerial photography is another interest that I've been able to further develop since I began using my Nikon digital cameras. While much of it is commercial in nature, taking aerial assignments for local real estate agents and property owners, I've also enjoyed the opportunity to study the relationships of ferries and other ships, harbors, islands, and even distant Mt. Baker from the air. This series, San Juan Aerials, gives a different perspective to what it means to live in these islands.

Aerial subjects include the strikingly beautiful, classic lines of vintage sailing ships (such as the Adventuress, Zodiac, Lady Washington and Odyssey) which sail the waters of Puget Sound. A few aerial images are included in two recent studies – Tall Ships and the Tall Ships Festival (2008).

In recent years I’ve extended my photographic impressions of the San Juan Islands to include the seasons – Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter, San Juan Marinescapes, Island Dogs (a cheerful look at man and his best friend), abundant Wildlife in these islands, Lopez Island and Orcas Island, an ongoing study of the Island Ferry Boats serving our community, and Painted Rock (a long-standing, social tradition on San Juan Island).

I’ve also revisited our lovely Madrona trees, Madrona Moments, only this time in color. In the documentary arena, my recent studies include highly photogenic places such as English Camp and Roche Harbor Resort (both located on San Juan Island), Wild Snow Geese and Skagit Valley Tulips (both seen seasonally in the nearby Skagit River valley) and Northwest Lighthouses (located along the NW Coast in Oregon and Washington).

Traveling east, my recent studies include Jasper National Park located in Alberta, Canada and Theodore Roosevelt National Park, located in North Dakota. I’ve also returned to two areas previously covered in B&W to shoot color images – Methow Valley and the Oregon Dunes. During these travels, I’ve noticed and become fascinated by small, rarely visited grave yards and Native American burial grounds, which I am continuing to document in Simple Resting Places.

Currently I'm using a 12-megapixel Nikon D-2X camera, Adobe Photoshop CS3, an Epson printer with permanent ink colors (3 of which are for better black & white prints), and VR lenses designed specifically for digital cameras. With these tools, I'm getting close to my goal of producing exhibition quality images with at least a 100-year permanence rating.