Review - Images of Appalachian Coalfields

Hardcover| 8 x 10 inches | 144 pages | 93 black and white photographs | Temple University Press, 1989 | Builder Levy | $25

Images of Appalachian Coalfields was probably the very first photobook specific to Appalachia I ever bought. In late 2009, I saw Levy's picture of Chattaroy, West Virginia native Nimrod Workman in Coal Country: Rising Up Against Mountaintop Removal Mining, the companion book to the documentary film, and wanted to know more about the photographer who'd photographed in my home town. Chattaroy isn't exactly that widely known (or photographed). An online search about Levy led me to his book, which I ordered right away.

When the book arrived, I sat down and pored over the pages and examined each photograph looking for more pictures from Chattaroy. Then, I noticed several pictures were made at Eastern Coal Company in Stone, Kentucky across the Tug River in Pike County. My pawpaw, Cecil May, was a mine foreman and worked underground for Eastern for over 40 years. I just knew I was going to see him in one of Levy's photographs. Well I didn't see my pawpaw, but I decided to email Levy to thank him for making the work and tell him the story about my connection to Chattaroy and Eastern Coal Company. That email struck up a conversation, which developed into a friendship. Later this month, I'll get to meet Builder Levy for the first time at the 2016 Appalachian Studies Association conference in Shepherdstown, West Virginia, where I'll be part of a panel with Levy and Dr. Sylvia Shurbutt of Shepherd University.

Images of Appalachian Coalfields begins with a powerful combination; a foreword by Cornell Capa, the brother of Robert Capa (yes, that Robert Capa) and an introduction by Dr. Helen Matthews Lewis. The introduction, twenty-two pages long, should be required reading for anyone making work in Appalachia. It's broken out by themes of work, community, and legacy, which sets the structure of how the photographs are presented (in identical sections). Lewis sets up the work with the care and scholarship anyone familiar with her work would expect, ending with, "The current plight of mining communities is strong evidence that the enrichment of the coal producers has resulted in the impoverishment of the region and its people."

The photographs from Levy's first book were made between 1968 and 1982. He started making pictures in Appalachia when he took a 10-day trip to Boone, North Carolina. On his return to New York, he made a detour through Mingo County and stayed with a VISTA worker who introduced him to some local folks. Working slowly over time and returning to the coalfields often, Levy began to build the body of work that would eventually become Images of Appalachian Coalfields.

One of the important things I gleaned from my early conversations with Levy was how important it was to him to give back prints. It's something I started incorporating into my practice because of him. I've given away at least three copies of this book (as well as Rob Amberg's Sodom Laurel Album, which I'll write about later) as examples of the kind of work I want to see more of, that I feel we all need to see more of. This isn't a book any MTV producer referenced as an idea for a new show. Instead, it's a deliberately slow an quiet approach to telling a story with grace and intention.

From the dust jacket: "Levy describes the sometimes mixed reaction he received from miners, foremen, and company guards at various mining sites. By "reading" the images, one senses that he did no simply gain access to witness but fully participated in the daily "mantrips," the comfortable hospitality, the unity of miners surfacing after a long day underground. Images of Appalachian Coalfields forces the reader to confront the life of a mining community, to recognize the faces of struggle, camaraderie, defiance, endurance, and to admire the intense vision of a photographer whose love of subject pays homage to the human spirit."

I've selected some of my favorite spreads from the book and included the caption information.

Spread one, pages 42 and 43. Left: Loaded coal cars in the mines, drawn by animals or men years ago, are now moved or "hauled" by motorized vehicles called "motors." (One of Eastern Associated Coal Corporation's mines; Boone County, West Virginia, 1982) Right: Several years after he was photographed, Andrea Kosto was killed by a large piece of slate that fell as he was trying to locate an obstruction under the loading tipple. (Sycamore Mining Company; Cinderella, West Virginia, 1971)

Spread two, pages 50 and 51. Left: Workers emerge form the mine at shift's end. (Wolf Creek Colliery; Lovely, Kentucky, 1971) Right: Since the late nineteenth century, Black miners have been among the leaders in the struggle to defend and expand the rights of all coal miners. (Old House Branch Mine, Eastern Coal Company; Pike County, Kentucky, 1970) [Editor's note: although not originally identified in Images of Appalachian Coalfields, the miner's name is Toby Moore. He appears on the cover of Levy's third book, Appalachia USA.]

Spread three, pages 68 and 69. Left: Lee Holt's doorstep. (Chattaroy, Mingo County, West Virginia, 1971) Right: Donna Muncy. (Crum, West Virginia, 1970)

Spread four, pages 80 and 81. Left: Charles Blevins' collection of musical instruments, mining tools, Indian gourds, and army weapons hangs on the wall of his Red Robin Inn, a small roadstop. (Borderland, West Virginia, 1971) Right: Retied miner Nimrod Workman, noted activist and writer and performer of mining songs, gave his support to this project, introducing me to miners and finding me a place to stay. (Chattaroy, Mingo County, West Virginia, 1972)

Spread five, pages 110 and 111. Left: View from Highsplint bridge. (Harlan County, Kentucky, 1974). Right: Williamson, "Home of the Billion Dollar Coalfields." (Mingo County, West Virginia, 1972)

Long out of print, you can pick up a used copy of Images of Appalachian Coalfields relatively inexpensively online from a number of sites. I highly recommend this book.

Seeing Appalachia | John Ryan Brubaker

I learned of John Ryan Brubaker's work through a mutual friend, Emma Fisher, Tamarack Artisan Foundation's program director. Before I even saw the work, I was taken by the process of the work. More and more these days, I'm interested in how work is made and after learning that John Ryan used acid mine drainage as a central component of his series 'On Confluence,' I wanted to learn more. John Ryan not only shares images from the series, but also images from the field as the work was made.

(Editor's note: for the last three and a half years, I've written the series titled 'Looking at Appalachia' here on my blog. Since launching the Looking at Appalachia project in February 2014, I've considered renaming this series to create a clear separation between my personal writing and the project. This installment is the first under the new series name 'Seeing Appalachia.' Thanks for reading and for your continued support.)

Now on to John Ryan's work. I asked him to introduce it and talk about his process a bit.

On Confluence Walks down the North Fork

The North Fork Blackwater River runs past Thomas, West Virginia before joining the Blackwater proper in the canyon downstream. Thomas developed as a coal town in the early 20th Century, but as the mines were abandoned they filled with water which continues to drain into the river today. The mine void currently covers 1100 acres and discharges an average of two million gallons of water per day into the North Fork. The drainage has a pH in the 3.0 – 5.0 range and contains heavy concentrations of iron and aluminum. This water dissolves heavy metals and creates acid mine drainage, which is detrimental to river ecosystems, rendering them generally unfit for life, recreation, or consumption.

The images in this project were shot during a number of walks in and around the North Fork. As most of the river is difficult to access the process required walking through the riverbed directly. The prints were made using an iron-based photographic process called the Van Dyke Print. This process uses acidic water as its developing agent, making the contaminated portions of the North Fork an ideal location for creating prints.

The works, exhibited earlier this year for the first time at the Carnegie Hall Museum Gallery in Lewisburg, West Virginia, were processed directly in river water effected by acid mine drainage and have absorbed traces of the same heavy metals and mine runoff as the North Fork Watershed itself.

For the past four years I have split my time between the 500-person Appalachian town of Thomas, West Virginia and the million-person city of Brussels, Belgium. During that time the majority of my photographic work was shot and conceptualized in the urban environment and then printed and produced over the summer in my studio in Thomas. My recent projects, 'Maps for Getting Lost' and 'Every Path is Viable' deal with passageways, physical infrastructure and movement through urban space. They incorporate walking as artistic practice, GPS tracking and multi-exposure images of intersections and transit points. While considering a project based in the landscape of West Virginia I was drawn to the river as the organic, geographic equivalent to a transit grid. The lines created on the landscape by water are quite different than those carved out by public transportation and city streets, but they serve similar purposes for me artistically. They provide a fixed, finite space in which to move and observe with a camera.

By researching the history and route of the North Fork I began to understand the immensity of the damage done to this body of water. As is so often the case in West Virginia, the landscape here is scarred by resource extraction. Much of the river appears clear and healthy, with little sign of impact by mine drainage, but other sections are opaque and disconcerting shades of blue-grey or orange. I also became aware of its inaccessibility, as most of the shore is hidden within a dense growth of trees and uninviting thickets. After many failed attempts to follow the shore I decided to walk directly in the riverbed, submerging myself in the water and engaging with it physically as my subject. I consulted with local environmental experts to be sure the toxicity levels weren’t overtly dangerous to me. Ultimately, the photographs in this series were made on a number of day-long walks starting in the city of Thomas and ending at a waterfall downstream.

I chose to use the Van Dyke printing process for these works because it allowed me to work directly with the chemical nature of photography. It took months of experiments with chemistry, paper, exposure and negative density to reach the result I was after. I wanted the prints to absorb heavy metals from the water and to have a physical presence that is often lost in the presentation of photographs. A small run of the river with the ideal pH level served as my outdoor darkroom. I exposed the paper using the sun and developed the images directly in the river. The prints were fixed in a solution of sodium thiosulfate, returned to the river for rinsing and then dried on the shore. I'm curious how they will behave over time, but I've embraced the possibility of them shifting in color or density as they age. They are, after all, organic objects: paper, chemistry, water and light.

This project was supported by the Tamarack Artisan Foundation. It will be shown again in Thomas, WV in the Spring of 2016. You can see more of his work here and follow him on Instagram at @jrbrubaker.

All images © John Ryan Brubaker and are used with permission.

Looking at Appalachia | Robert Gumpert

In 1972, while hitchhiking across the United States, Robert Gumpert found himself on the side of the road in Cabin Creek, West Virginia waiting for a ride. During a shift change at the coal mine nearby, seeing a steady stream of miners convinced him that he needed to come back to photograph the area.

Back in Los Angeles in late 1973, his conversation with the National Lawyer’s Guild connected him to Charleston, West Virginia. While there, he learned of an ongoing strike in Harlan County, Kentucky at the Brookside and Highsplint mines. At the same time, Barbara Koppel was making what would later become the well-known, Academy Award-winning documentary Harlan County U.S.A.

Last month, Gumpert was kind enough to participate in a Skype discussion about his experience making pictures in Appalachia as well as share some of his work.

For three months, Gumpert worked and lived in Harlan County photographing the strikes and the impact on the families and communities like Coxton and Evarts. All of this was happening not long after the killing of Canadian filmmaker Hugh O’Connor in neighboring Letcher County, which served as the centerpiece of Elizabeth Barret’s Stranger With a Camera.

Though this was Gumpert’s first major project, he was aware of the power of pictures and how they can be used to perpetuate stereotypes. A few times, Gumpert mentioned that newspaper reporters passing through the area asked for specific types of pictures, which he knew would be used to support an expected narrative about Appalachia. He flatly refused. However, he didn’t refuse to show poverty and hard times, he insisted on not making it the center of the story.

Back in Los Angeles, Gumpert began processing his film, making contact sheets, and selecting images for print. Working with a friend, Rick Fichter, who was a film major at USC, the project was broken down into three parts: the strike, inside the mines, and a family. He printed a show for a local bookstore intending to hang the photographs of the underground mine at approximately 29”, the height of the mine he visited. Realizing that most people wouldn’t make the effort to view the photos in that manner, he opted to mark the length of the wall at 29” to serve as a visual marker for the viewers.

The work he did in Appalachia taught him a lot about exploitation. He sensed the bitterness and anger on the faces of the miners and families as day after day they watched absentee capitalism haul away their futures. This put a face on it for Gumpert. “I had my politics before I got to eastern Kentucky, but there was nothing like seeing it to bring it home for me.”

All photographs © Robert Gumpert, 1974 unless otherwise noted. All rights reserved.

1. Harlan County, Kentucky: Morning on the Highsplint picket line.
2. Screenshot of Skype conversation with Robert Gumpert, 10 July 2014. (Roger May)
3. Harlan County USA directed by Barbara Kopple. (Roger May)
4. Harlan County, Kentucky: Picket line at the Highsplint mine. The governor of Kentucky sent in the state police.
5. Harlan County, Kentucky: Basil Collins miner foreman and leader/manager of the scabs confronts picketers with a 45 in his right pocket.
6. Harlan County, Kentucky: UMWA on a 13-month strike at Brookside mines and on the pick line at Highsplint mine. A meeting of the Brookside women's support group.
7. Harlan County, Kentucky: UMWA on a 13 month strike at Brookside mines and on the pick line at Highsplint mine. Women of the Brookside women's support group talk with Harlan County sheriff Billy Williams at a roadblock.
8. Harlan County, Kentucky: On the pick line at Highsplint mine.
9. Harlan County, Kentucky: Coal miners meet before heading to the picket line. Many local, small businesses supported the UMWA, the miners, and the strike.
10. Harlan County; Kentucky: Picket line at the Highsplint mine. The Kentucky governor sent in the state police and they proceeded to keep the strikers from blocking the scabs from working.
11. Harlan County, Kentucky: Scabs and gun thugs led by Basil Collins confront strikers on the pick line at Highsplint mine.
12. Coxton, Kentucky kitchen.
13. Harlan County, Kentucky: Highsplint picketers move to another mine.
14. Harlan County, Kentucky: Funeral of Lawrence Jones, killed by a scab during a confrontation away from the picket line.
15. Harlan County, Kentucky: Funeral of Lawrence Jones, killed by a scab during a confrontation away from the picket line.
16. Harlan County, Kentucky: Funeral of Lawrence Jones, killed by a scab during a confrontation away from the picket line.
17. Harlan County, Kentucky: The wife and daughter of Lawrence Jones at his funeral. Mr. Jones was killed by a scab during a confrontation away from the picket line.
18. Retired miner at a Charleston, West Virginia rally for Harlan County, Kentucky strikers.
19. Charleston, West Virginia. Meeting of coal miners called by the United Mine Workers of America (UMWA).
20. Coal mining family at home just outside of Everts, Harlan County, Kentucky. After a 13-month strike, they won the right to have an election.
21. Harlan County, Kentucky: striking father Samson Blevins and his kids at home near Everts, Harlan County, Kentucky.
22. Coal mining family at home just outside of Everts, Harlan County, Kentucky. After a 13-month strike they won the right to have an election.
23. Harlan County, Kentucky: striking father Samson Blevins and child at home near Everts.
24. Coxton, Kentucky. Old miner with black lung and the breathing equipment he needs.
25. Harlan County, Kentucky: striking father Samson Blevins at home near Everts.
26. The Blevins family having a meal together at home. Samson Blevins, a coal truck driver, was on strike at the Highsplint mine.
27. Harlan County, Kentucky: Father and son in the Everts, Kentucky apartment above the Blevins family.
28. Harlan County, Kentucky: The Coxton, Kentucky home of a coal miner.
29. Harlan County, Kentucky: Family living upstairs from the Blevins, Everts, Kentucky.
30. 1974: Coal mining family at home just outside of Everts, Kentucky.
31. Harlan County, Kentucky: Coal mine, not on strike and not union, mining 29-inch coal seam.
32. Harlan County, Kentucky: Coal mine, not on strike and not union, mining 29-inch coal seam.
33. Brookside coal camp, early morning with the mine in the background. Harlan County, Kentucky.
34. Harlan County, Kentucky: Victory photo after the miners of the Highsplint mine voted to join the UMWA.