An Interview with Robert Moran Diana H. Bloomfield
Hi Robert. I’m sure you’ve been asked this question any number of times, but I’m going to ask it again and perhaps make it a bit more challenging by turning it into a multi-part question. So... how did you get started in photography, and has photography been your sole career? If not, what did you do in your past or current life, career-wise, that may (or may not) be contributing to your photographic interests and chosen subject matter? At the age of 12, my parents bought me a Super 8 movie camera for Christmas. I remember my first project which I titled, “The Golden Isle.” For the opening shot, I constructed a miniature island out of sod and small plants, then placed it in a kiddie pool filled with water that had been dyed a deep shade of blue. The neighborhood kids were enlisted to be the actors—arriving on the island slashing vegetation as they made their way into the deep interior (actually the Maine woods). Then I crudely animated small dinosaur models for the explorers to encounter. They all opened their mouths and held the sides of their faces—much like the Edvard Munch painting “The Scream.” Needless to say, the results were pathetic, but that camera is what got me interested in photography. A few years later, I bought my first 35mm SLR camera, and when I entered college I decided to major in fine art. That led to a passion for photography; I’ve been shooting ever since. After college I bounced around the country working a variety of jobs. I came to the realization that I’d never be happy working
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for anyone else, so I opened a small business that I ran for more than twenty years. I frequently used photographs in marketing the business—fashion shoots, product shots. I stayed involved in the creative process by designing many of the graphics used on items that were sold through the business. All of that—learning about business, designing, and photographing products—contributed to some of the skills I employ in my photography business today. Fortunately I was able to find time to travel, and more importantly, time to pursue personal projects while I continued to study photography on my own. Your series, Relics, I find particularly intriguing on a number of levels. You describe these images as “portraits” and the items as our “collaborators,” offering us solace and comfort in times of need. You really seem to have personalized these items, almost anthropomorphizing them. Would you care to elaborate on that? I consider these images to be portraits. It’s my belief that a good portrait captures an impression of someone or something that reveals more than what’s on the surface. Working in my studio with no deadlines gave me the opportunity to spend a lot of time to experiment, reposition, and work the lighting until everything came together. During that time, my subjects became very familiar. Early on I began to think of them as having personalities. They oozed a secret history, and many had battle scars—similar to those we acquire with age. You could say I formed a kind of bond with many of the objects. The way I feel
about them is difficult to explain. They’re all different and I like some more than others, but I can’t imagine ever giving them away. I am personally fascinated by all that is about time, which is part of what appeals to me about so much of your work. And, again, speaking of Relics, the very name suggests that which has survived the passage of time, whether that’s objects, customs, or a way of life. So, in looking through your various series, what I found interesting is that much of your imagery seems to be about the passage of time, displacement, and a pervading sense of a past lost. There’s a real beauty in all the “relics” you reveal to us. Do you have a longing for a less fast, less efficient, less sleek 21st century kind of life, or is this simply a fascination with what once was—or what could be? I embrace new technology and thoroughly take advantage of it. There has never been a time in history with so many possibilities to communicate, to learn, to travel, and to chart one’s own course. I’m happy to be alive to experience all that. But in many ways, I do have a strong longing for “the way life used to be.” With home invasions on the rise, I miss the days when my house didn’t have an alarm system; doors could be left unlocked; I knew my neighbors. I grew up watching television shows like Adventures in Paradise and The Andy Griffith Show. Although I know they weren’t accurate depictions of real life, there seemed to be a kind of innocence back then that we’ve lost somewhere along the way.