(pulsing music playing) (groovy instrumental music playing) - [Jade] See the beauty of concrete and steel in the photography of Steven Mallon.

Talk bioart and neon with Jude Abu Zaineh.

And catch a performance from Joel Brown.

It's all ahead on this episode of AHA!

A House for Arts.

- [Narrator] Funding for AHA has been provided by your contribution and by contributions to the WMHT venture fund.

Contributors include the Leo Cox Beach Philanthropic Foundation, Chet and Karen Opalka, Robert and Doris Fischer Malesardi, and The Robison Family Foundation.

- At M&T Bank we understand that the vitality of our communities is crucial to our continued success.

That's why we take an active role in our community.

M&T Bank is pleased to support WMHT programming that highlights the arts, and we invite you to do the same.

(groovy instrumental music playing) - Hi, I'm Jade Warrick and this is AHA!

A House for Arts, a place for all things creative.

Here's Matt with today's fill segment.

(railway bell ringing) - I'm here in Cornwall, New York, to shoot some trains with photographer Steven Mallon.

Let's go.

(upbeat instrumental music playing) (train whistle blowing) (train whistle blowing) (train whistle blowing) (train whistle blowing) (camera shutter clicking) - I am an industrial landscape photographer.

I shoot fine art projects around infrastructure, energy, recycling, and my current focus is on the rail and freight industry and network within the US.

(train rushing by) Whoops.

The moment we need to roll audio in this room, there is usually a train coming by.

(train rushing by) (clicking sounds) (Steven laughing) (gentle guitar music playing) My first photograph was shot when I was two-and-a-half years old.

My father handed me his Canon AE-1 in California to take a picture of him and my mom, and that was like, that was it.

I studied photography in Rochester, went to IT, got to New York, assisted other photographers for four years.

I really wanted to find a way for me to be a photographer as my source of income, not working another job and taking pictures for the gallery.

And it was the matter of what's the Venn diagram where I can be shooting what I love and get paid for it and put those images on the wall?

Piece by piece, I realized that that area was going to be industrial landscape.

(suspenseful music playing) About 2007, I was approached by a book agent about doing a coffee table book of my work.

And, I loved that, but I didn't think that I had, like, Steven Mallon's coffee table book ready yet, 'cause there was too many just, kind of, like, sporadic images from different locations.

And I started kind of brainstorming, taking a look at what I was, like, focused on, and realized that I kept on going back to, like, these textural maps at recycling plants.

And so, I hired a writer and we put together a proposal to start photographing the recycling industry in America.

And that got me access to scrap metal, to a paper mill, to a cement reclamation plant.

While that was happening, I discovered the MTA's artificial reef project.

The MTA dumped over 2,000 subway cars in the Atlantic over the span of 10 years, and they were done for artificial reefs and wreck diving.

The Atlantic is basically a desert up here.

There's not a lot of actual structure down there, so anything along the seabed is gonna be good shelter for fish.

I approached the contractor who was this construction company called Weeks Marine, and they have these giant rotating cranes, and started going out with them to photograph the reef project.

So, that was supplementing the recycling project, not realizing that that was gonna spawn off and be its entire own, like, exhibition on its own.

But January 15th, 2009, Sully crashes in the Hudson River with an Airbus A320 after the bird strikes out of, flying out of LaGuardia.

And, we are sitting in a bar, it's my wife's birthday, and she at one point says, "I wonder how they're gonna get the plane out of the water."

Ended up getting commissioned by Weeks Marine to document the salvage operation.

So, I was the first photographer on the aircraft, and had exclusive access to the crash site.

That project is what really kind of launched me into the forefront and it just got a lot of attention.

(groovy music playing) My life as a cinematographer kind of also came out of the desire of finding ways to sustain myself as an artist and continue to shoot the subject matter that I wanted.

The Canon 5D Mark II had hit the market, and I realized that I was gonna need to know how to be a filmmaker to survive, that being a still photographer was no longer enough of a, like, skillset on its own.

I didn't like the 5D Mark II.

I didn't like the foreign effect, or I didn't like the idea of shooting video on this camera, but I was okay with the possibility of doing time-lapse.

And then fortunately, Weeks Marine called again and said, "Hey, I don't know if you're interested, but we're delivering a bridge in a couple of weeks."

And I was like, "Really?"

(Steven laughing) I was like, "I would like to make a movie about this."

It's like, I'm not gonna charge you for it because I can't 100% guarantee that it's gonna work, so just get me in, let me shoot, and then we'll see what happens.

So, ended up calling in a bunch of favors with past interns, current interns, friends, and we set up remote cameras and followed the delivery of the bridge that was built just outside of Albany and then towed down by tugboat and installed in the Harlem River.

(driving music playing) I had been really fortunate getting access to these locations to photograph through my relationship with Weeks and editorial assignments with National Geographic, the New York Times, they were able to get me into these locations that I normally was not able to get into.

I realized that I wanted something that I could shoot without having to ask for permission, and we had recently left New York City and moved up to Hudson Valley, and discovered this freight line that was just on the other side of the river where I was able to set up a camera in this public parking lot and shoot.

And I had shot trains in the past, but what I was doing, the technique in the past was that I would just use a long shutter speed to blur the motion out just to get this kind of, like, color wash in the landscape.

And I decided to take this project in the opposite direction and focus on the object of the cars and the locomotives themselves, and take a look at both the engineering and, you know, the design, the age, any, you know, the artifacts, sometimes the graffiti that was on there, you know, and how it related within the landscape specifically.

So, I started shooting the cars one by one at a very high shutter speed to stop the motion, and also decided to crop the frame down to a three-to-one ratio, so it is really focused on the car and the elements of the landscape.

Part of the joy is finding the unique locations mixed in with finding the unique car.

You know, so the moment that a car come by that has, you know, either the right graffiti on it, or the graphics, or, like, those rare moments where I get an open box car coming by and I'm able to shoot through those is just magical for me.

(train rushing by) Yeah, another one.

Oh, and it's another good one.

Look at that.

See, there's the mixed freight again.

Yeah, this is the stuff that I love.

(mellow instrumental music fading) - Jude Abu Zaineh is a Palestinian Canadian interdisciplinary artist.

Her work utilizes biology and technology to explore themes of culture and belonging.

I sat down with Jude to learn more.

Welcome Jude, welcome to AHA!

today.

I'm so excited to have you here and talk to you.

- [Jude] Thanks for having me.

- So, just to dive on straight in to the nitty-gritty of it, I wanna learn more about your history as an artist.

So, what really brought the passion for you to realize, "Oh, this is something that I wanna do"?

- I think, for me, it's been something that's been instilled for my entire life.

I just recently unearthed a box of old VHS tapes, like old family videos, and I don't have a personal memory or recollection of this moment.

All my memories are just from whatever I'm seeing now in, like, these photo albums or on videos.

But there's this time when I was in kindergarten, I don't know how old you are when you're in kindergarten.

Maybe like three or four or, however old.

And I was just so excited to show my mum my little painting easel and just kind of going to town painting something.

So I think it's been something that's encouraged and instilled in my life at a very early age.

And then, my more, like, cognizant memory of being affected by the arts was sometime, I'd say I was maybe eight or nine years old, and my mom really wanted to commission a painting for our house.

And so, there was this moment where I was going and visiting this artist's studio over the span of however many months until the painting was developed.

And so, it was a really cool experience to be able to go and see a real professional working artist, not in the movies, not on TV, but in real life, but also seeing the progress and the progression of this painting come to life.

So, I think that was something that really left a big impression on me and showed me that it is quite possible to do that when I'm a grown-up.

- What do you consider some of the themes of your work?

- I think, for me, a lot of the kind of through lines in my work are around identity politics, migration, place-making, home, ideals of home.

As someone who comes from a transient background as a Palestinian, who's moved around a lot in my upbringing, I belong and also don't belong to many different cultures or places or geographical locations.

And so, I'm really curious about, kind of, identity politics and place-making when you're someone who comes from this bucket of a newcomer or an immigrant or a refugee.

And these are sort of the things that I address in a lot of my work, regardless of how it manifests physically in my practice.

- And when you say it manifests physically, do you mean like you use different types of medium like painting, or, would you give us a little bit of background about what types of mediums you use?

- In the last few years I've focused my practice in the realm of bioart and neon.

Bioart is something that really excites me and it gets me super geeked every time I have an opportunity to talk about it, but it's basically an intersection of art, science, and technology.

And so, when we're thinking about traditional art or contemporary art in the more traditional sense, you think about paintings or drawings with charcoal, or anything in that sort of realm of medium.

Whereas with bioart, it's a more contemporary way of working with biology, the life sciences, your body, and so some of the things that I'm producing exist in Petri dishes.

I work out of different science labs with bacteria, with food, documenting different things that are growing and decaying, and all of these things that are encapsulated in the Petri dish then make their way into these, like, large-scale installations or video works and sculptures that I produce.

- That is so cool.

Speaking of that, I know you have a show in Paris that kind of deals with those themes called "The Art of Living."

Would you like to give us a little bit of background about that show?

- Absolutely.

It's a show that's curated by Katherine Bedard and one of the things I really, really love about this show is that it's at the Canadian Cultural Center in Paris and it's connected to the Canadian embassy.

And so, there's something that's really interesting that happens when your artwork is framed in different contexts based on the different places that it occupies.

So, in this context where it's now attached to the embassy and the audience changes a little bit.

Because now, the people walking through the gallery are ambassadors, they're dignitaries, they're policy makers, they're people who are literally sitting at the table in charge of making change about things regarding migration and politics and policies regarding those things.

And so, it's a really privileged and humbling experience to have my work that addresses a lot of these things be in a space like that, also framed by these policies and conversations and questions that come up behind those closed doors.

- Yeah, and that's just great to have your work in that environment so people can really just soak it in and soak the message in, as well.

Do you consider any of your work...

I know as an artist I don't like to use the word "political," but do you consider any of your work political or a feather-ruffler or any type of, you know, causing an emotional visceral reaction?

Would you consider your work in that realm?

- I think art in its purest form will cause some reaction to its audience or viewers in some way.

Or, at least that's what you hope to do as an artist, is to elicit some response or emotion or a line of questions in someone's mind or affect them in some way.

So, I think in that context, I think my work does do those things.

I think also, because I'm a Palestinian woman, my identity automatically politicizes me in the eyes of other people, but it's all so subjective.

I like to create my artwork so that there's a lot of different entry points.

You can look at it at just face value from a visual perspective and maybe connect with it or not, and if you spend more time with it, it starts to reveal different, maybe, secrets or moments and metaphors and concepts that exist within it.

And, so it allows you an opportunity to engage with it in different ways depending on how invested you are in the work.

So I think, for me, those are the kinds of artworks that I'm selfishly drawn to when I go to a museum or, you know, any kind of- - Yeah, it's multi-layered.

- art gallery in that way, and so I try to make artwork in the same way that would be interesting to me.

- Exactly.

You try to make art that you would wanna look at, or try to make a show that you would wanna be in, which is something that I myself even do.

I'm like, "If I'm gonna create something, I wanna create something that I want to see, and that I feel comfortable in."

I'm like, "Yes, we're trying to get the audience's attention, but at the end of the day, it's my art."

It's my personal, you know, my intimate process, my personal process, and everything like that.

So with being an artist that is more, as you said, transient, and kind of bebopping a little bit all over the place, how does that affect your, does that affect your art or how you just handle creating, or does that inspire your creations?

- It definitely, it keeps me on my toes because I don't know what idea I'm gonna come up with next and where it's going to take me.

I usually let this concept or idea guide the material that I'm going to work with.

But I'm someone who's always been curious and loves to learn, so I like that I'm able to dabble in so many different mediums and different materials to produce different artworks.

So, more recently, I've picked up glass bending to produce neon pieces and and light works thinking about the art of neon in a more sculptural perspective.

But also, when we think about neon in the traditional sense, it's a very commercialized medium.

- [Jade] It is.

- It's usually something that's used to communicate some kind of command, usually tied to capitalism.

- Buy this.

- Yeah, buy this.

Come in here, we're open.

We want your business, come spend your money.

And so, I also really like thinking about neon as a medium and a mode of communication in that it's very specific with language.

And so, when I'm also thinking about identity politics and language as a mode of communication, there's also opportunities where you're communicating but miscommunicating.

There's translations and failures of translations.

So what happens when you take a medium like neon that, at its core, is so important for communicating things and you're just kind of playing with that whole concept?

And so, in terms of dabbling with new mediums, glass has been something that's new to me that's been really exciting.

And it's also very important for me to have my own hand in my work, as opposed to conceptualizing an idea or an artwork and sending it to someone else to fabricate.

It's okay if other people do that, you know, to each their own, but, in my line of work, I think it's very important for me to have my own hand and, like, be tactile with the material.

- From, like, the ground up, not just, like, creating it, sending it off, but really understanding the whole process from the beginning to the end.

- Yeah.

And being a part of that fabrication process is important.

- Oh, that's so cool.

I have to see those pieces.

I love neon light work, it's so beautiful and it can be so impactful, as well.

Do you have any favorite projects?

- That's a really tough question.

I think that's kind of akin to asking a parent who their favorite child is, which I don't think is fair, but.

I selfishly love all my projects.

I'm biased, I mean, it's my own artwork.

I love all the things that I make, and I love them all for different reasons.

Sometimes it has to do with that journey of inception, coming up with the idea, conceptualizing it all the way through to fabrication and realizing it, you know, physically in the real world with us.

And that journey sometimes is just so rewarding.

I think, with neon, that's been a really important part of the journey of arriving at the final product but, kind of, all the barriers to entry to get to the point of being able to learn and fabricate the pieces myself.

With all of my bioart pieces, I love the opportunity to bridge the gap and demystify science and make it accessible to a larger audience that maybe is interested in the sciences, but hasn't had an opportunity to engage with it.

And so, I like all of my works for all of those different reasons.

- That's very beautiful.

Yeah, and it's really hard, as you said, it's like picking your own kid.

Like, an artist can't just choose, like, "Oh, I like this piece, or I like this piece, or I like this piece."

Every piece you have, you will have an intimate connection to.

You know, may go up a little bit on the hierarchy a little bit, but at the end of the day, you love 'em all equally.

Well thank you, Jude, and thank you for coming to talk on AHA!

It was beautiful talking to you.

- [Jude] Thank you so much for having me.

- Please welcome Joel Brown.

(gentle guitar music playing) ♪ It's overcast and cold today ♪ ♪ It looks as though it's here to stay ♪ ♪ It doesn't matter anyway ♪ ♪ 'Cause every day's the same ♪ ♪ Empty streets and quiet skies ♪ ♪ Loneliness behind the eyes ♪ ♪ Of everyone locked up inside ♪ ♪ Together and alone ♪ ♪ And there behind the headline is the sense of the unknown ♪ ♪ It's written in the windows ♪ ♪ Of the shops that all have gone ♪ ♪ And every person everywhere thrown into the storm ♪ ♪ It's five o'clock on Friday and everyone's gone home ♪ ♪ The space between us now it seems ♪ ♪ Far beyond our wildest dreams ♪ ♪ And everywhere is somber scene ♪ ♪ Of hopelessness and fear ♪ ♪ But while we spend this time apart ♪ ♪ The human spirit in our hearts ♪ ♪ Replaces all this weariness ♪ ♪ With reckoning and truth ♪ ♪ And there behind the headline is the sense of the unknown ♪ ♪ It's written in the windows ♪ ♪ Of the shops that all have gone ♪ ♪ And every person everywhere thrown into the storm ♪ ♪ It's five o'clock on Friday and everyone's gone ♪ ♪ Home to love the one that makes you feel at home ♪ ♪ Home to feel protected ♪ ♪ From this world that's gone so wrong ♪ ♪ To each and every one of us thrown into the storm ♪ ♪ It's five o'clock on Friday and everyone's gone home ♪ ♪ Gone home ♪ (guitar music fading) - I've been writing songs since I was probably eight years old when I heard The Beatles write their own songs.

And, after a while, when you reach a certain point in your life, you kinda run outta things that are interesting to write about.

You've wrote about love and you've wrote about, you know, happiness and sadness and all.

And then something happened to me five years ago that really changed my life and made me be able to write a lot more songs, and that was I became a grandfather.

And this is a song that I wrote for my second granddaughter called "Madeline."

(gentle guitar music playing) ♪ In December's last light ♪ ♪ You came into our sight ♪ ♪ A part of her, a part of him ♪ ♪ Breathing out and breathing in ♪ ♪ Life begins, Madeline ♪ ♪ Madeline, make yourself at home ♪ ♪ You found the place where you belong ♪ ♪ Safe and warm, in your space ♪ ♪ Connecting voices to a face ♪ ♪ Home again, Madeline ♪ ♪ And all the time you spent alone ♪ ♪ Floating in your Twilight Zone ♪ ♪ Comes to be reality and all the things that you might be ♪ ♪ Life begins, Madeline ♪ ♪ A part of her, a part of him ♪ ♪ Breathing out and breathing in ♪ ♪ Life begins, Madeline ♪ ♪ Madeline, it's time to close your eyes ♪ ♪ Listen to a winter's lullaby ♪ ♪ The stars are shining in the night ♪ ♪ Reaching out to hold you tight ♪ ♪ And tuck you in, Madeline ♪ ♪ Safe and warm, in your space ♪ ♪ Connecting voices to a face ♪ ♪ The stars are shining in the night ♪ ♪ Reaching out to hold you tight ♪ ♪ And tuck you in, Madeline ♪ ♪ Life begins, Madeline ♪ (guitar music fading) (ringing music playing) - Thanks for joining us.

For more arts, visit wmht.org/aha and be sure to connect with us on social.

I'm Jade Warrick, and thanks for watching.

(pulsing music playing) - [Narrator] Funding for AHA has been provided by your contribution and by contributions to the WMHT venture fund.

Contributors include the Leo Cox Beach Philanthropic Foundation, Chet and Karen Opalka, Robert and Doris Fischer Malesardi, and The Robison Family Foundation.

- At M&T Bank we understand that the vitality of our communities is crucial to our continued success.

That's why we take an active role in our community.

M&T Bank is pleased to support WMHT programming that highlights the arts, and we invite you to do the same.