Camp Amache

 

A trip to Camp Amache last winter…

Camp Amache

“The Granada Relocation Center, better known by its postal designation, Amache, is located one mile outside the small town of Granada, in southeastern Colorado. Before the war, Granada was just one of the small farming towns that dotted
the valley of the Arkansas River, which runs east a few miles north of the site. The area has a semi-arid climate, with low humidity and average annual rainfall. Summers are hot and dry with occasional severe thunderstorms or tornadoes. Winters are generally cold and dry but can bring heavy snowfalls. High wind speeds are common throughout the year and can create choking dust storms.

Amache opened on August 27, 1942, and reached a peak population of 7318 by February 1943. With the smallest overall population of the ten War Relocation Authority (WRA) camps, Amache was notable in other ways. It was the only relocation center established on private land. The entire site was over 10,000 acres, but only 640 acres, or one square mile, was devoted to the central camp area. The majority of the project acreage was earmarked for the camp’s associated agricultural enterprises. The original population came from three main California geographic areas: the Central Valley, northern coast, and southwest Los Angeles. This original group was later joined by inmates transferred from other DOJ Detention Centers and WRA facilities, including over 900 from Tule Lake, CA, and over 500 from Jerome, AK. Around 10, 000 people of Japanese descent were detained in Amache while it was open, where they did their best to cope with life behind barbed wire.

The WRA (War Relocation Authority) purchased the properties that it consolidated into the 16-square-mile Granada War Relocation Center after a process of condemnation that paid local farmers pennies on the dollar for 10,500 acres on the south bank of the Arkansas River. In addition, the Santa Fe Railroad ran through the entire six-mile length of the combined properties, adding to the land’s value.

After the $4.2 million dollar Granada War Relocation Center closed on October 15, 1945, most of the center’s buildings and contents were sold and removed. The fifteen square miles used for agriculture and animal husbandry – along with the canals that provide for irrigation – were sold to local farming interests. The one-square-mile barracks area (“Amache”) was sold to the Town of Granada for $2,500. Otero County School District 11 bought over three dozen buildings and the University of Denver bought more than a dozen for classrooms, offices, and utility buildings. The price for these properties was determined by deducting 80% from their estimated fair market value.”

Via Amache.org

A side note on the namesake, Amache was the daughter of a Cheyenne Chief. She married well known historical figure John Prowers and established a home in Lamar in 1862. Amache’s father, Lone Bear, was killed in the Sand Creek Massacre.

Voices of the Japanese American citizens in the internment camps: 

“Sometimes America failed and suffered…Sometimes she made mistakes, great mistakes…Her history is full of errors, but with each mistake she has learned….Can we the graduating class of Amache Senior High School believe that America still means freedom, equality, security, and justice? Do I believe this? Do my classmates believe this? Yes, with all our hearts, because in the faith, in that hope, is my future, and the world’s future.”

—Excerpt from a graduation valedictory address delivered at the Amache Internment Camp in Colorado

 


“When we got to Manzanar, it was getting dark and we were given numbers first. We went down to the mess hall, and I remember the first meal we were given in those tin plates and tin cups. It was canned wieners and canned spinach. It was all the food we had, and then after finishing that we were taken to our barracks.

It was dark and trenches were here and there. You’d fall in and get up and finally got to the barracks. The floors were boarded, but the were about a quarter to half inch apart, and the next morning you could see the ground below.

The next morning, the first morning in Manzanar, when I woke up and saw what Manzanar looked like, I just cried. And then I saw the mountain, the high Sierra Mountain, just like my native country’s mountain, and I just cried, that’s all.

I couldn’t think about anything.”

— Yuri Tateishi, Manzanar

 

“All ten [internment camp] sites can only be called godforsaken. They were in places where nobody lived before and no one has lived since.”

—Roger Daniels, leading authority on the Japanese internment.

 

“Everybody’s hair and eyebrows would be snow-white with sand.”

—Mary Adachi, an internee at the Topaz internment camp in Utah

 

“Down in our hearts we cried and cursed this government every time when we showered with sand. We slept in the dust; we breathed the dust; we ate the dust.” 

—Joseph Kurihara, an internee at the Manzanar internment camp in California.

 


Marielle Tsukamoto, who was a child at the time, later recalled the atmosphere of dread:  “I think the saddest memory is the day we had to leave our farm. I know my mother and father were worried. They did not know what would happen to us. We had no idea where we would be sent. People were all crying and many families were upset. Some believed we would not be treated well, and maybe killed. There were many disturbing rumors. Everyone was easily upset and there were many arguments. It was a horrible experience for all of us, the old people like my grandparents, my parents and children like me. We were all innocent”

“We saw all these people behind the fence, looking out, hanging onto the wire, and looking out because they were anxious to know who was coming in. But I will never forget the shocking feeling that human beings were behind this fence like animals [crying]. And we were going to also lose our freedom and walk inside of that gate and find ourselves…cooped up there…when the gates were shut, we knew that we had lost something that was very precious; that we were no longer free.” 

— Mary Tsukamoto 

 

“As far as I’m concerned, I was born here, and according to the Constitution that I studied in school, I had the Bill of Rights that should have backed me up. And until the very minute I got onto the evacuation train, I said, ‘It can’t be! How can they do that to an American citizen?’”

– Robert Kashiwagi

 

Via-Biography.com

 

Dorothea Lange


After photographing for the Farm Security Administration, Dorothea Lange was hired by the War Relocation Authority (WRA) to photograph the internment of the Japanese and Japanese Americans on the Pacific coast, following the bombing
of Pearl Harbor. Presumably, the government wanted to show how orderly the process was, how well the internees were being treated. This time she was deeply in opposition to the government’s actions, but felt it was critically important to document the internment.

Lange worked with a sense of urgency, up at dawn, photographing until the light was gone. There were a number of subjects that were off-limits to her camera: no photographing the barb wire fences, the guard towers with their search lights and guns, no images of the bathrooms, with six pairs of toilets installed back to back with no partitions for privacy.

“The difficulties of doing it were immense,” Lange said. But it wasn’t just the physical hardships she was referring to. She felt forcing the Japanese and Japanese Americans into relocation centers was an unprecedented suspension of civil liberties. For Lange it was “an example of what happens to us if we lose our heads. What was horrifying was to do this completely on the basis of what blood may be coursing through a person’s veins, nothing else. Nothing to do with your affiliations or friendships or associations. Just blood.”

Via-Dorothea Lange Photographs

 

 

 

Monochrome Exhibition

Monochrome Photography Show – vision, interpretation and use of monochromatic LIGHT
Photographers of all levels were invited to submit their original photography for consideration. Black and white photography—Shades of gray and single toned [sepia, selenium, etc] The Monochrome Exhibition is a juried photography exhibit of fine art.

The 2019 MONOCHROME Exhibition features 66 outstanding images from the following artists:

Kathie C. Ballah, Lea Hope Bonzer, Gene Carlon
J. Anthony Crumpton, Dana Gautschi, Wendy Gedack
Sara Hagedorn, Marti Harvey, Liz Johnson, Lois Lake
Sherri Mabe, Sally Maddocks, Nancy E. Myer
Rose Ann Ost, Maureen Ravnik, John Reinhard
Sandy Rich, Lynn Roth, Michael Ryno , Darcy Schoening
Jerilyn Spink, Tobias Steeves, Allison Towe, Mark Webb

The mission of Monochrome Photography Show is a challenge to photographers to demonstrate their use of light to help define the subject. The light can be natural or artificial; or a combination that enhances the impact, drama, emotion, and/or message of the image. Images will be juried, judged; and awards for Best of Show, ORIGINALITY, TECHNICAL EXCELLENCE, COMPOSITION, OVERALL IMPACT, ARTISTIC MERIT.

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Abbott Church

A Prairie Mother’s Day

 

Last Mother’s Day most of my family was out of town, so my daughter and I drove out to the prairie in search of the Abbott Church. After 123 miles and a few dirt roads we found this old church sitting quietly upon a hill overlooking the prairie. This has to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. While I was taking photos, a woman arrived with a bouquet of wildflowers to place on one of the few graves off to the north side. As she was leaving she curiously inquired about my interest in the church, and then I asked about her visit to the tiny gravesite. Seems this woman had lost her 12 year old daughter in a car accident the day after Mother’s Day, May 13, 2002. We chatted quite awhile about the changes to Colorado since we were both young girls, our children, and then she asked if I wanted to see the inside of the church. The Abbott Church was built in 1913 DHD, “during the homestead days.” Inside there were tiny wooden pews, lace curtains on the windows and a very old organ. Denise then showed me some photographs of herself as a young girl hanging on a wall inside the church, and told me stories of growing up out here and her life her now. Such a lovely serendipitous day. I will return to the Abbott Church soon.

“The prairie skies can always make you see more than what you believe.” -Jackson Burnet

 

Abbott Church
Inside the Abbott Church

My World in Infrared

Kolari Vision recently published this feature on my infrared work!

 

 

As a girl I would linger hours in a fantasy world of faraway galaxies, cloud gazing, enchanted forests, and so on. Growing a bit older I immersed myself in the worlds of books and music, keeping company with words and rhythms. Then at some point in my teens I came upon my father’s old 1960’s Kodak Instamatic camera (I still have it, teeny negatives), and would drive into the mountains or down to a lake shooting photos of landscapes. Finally, after college graduation, I met my first SLR and off we went to see the world.

During the 1980’s and 1990’s I enrolled in photography courses at several colleges, was a SA in a college darkroom, and fell in love with black and white fine art photography. My mentor, Suzanne Camp Crosby (herself a student of surrealist photographer, Jerry N. Uelsmann) introduced me to HIE film during my third semester of classes at a local Tampa college. It was love at first roll of film; I’d found my passion.

Joyce Tennyson says, “I very strongly believe that if you go back to your roots, if you mine that inner territory, you can bring out something that is indelibly you and authentic -like your thumbprint. It’s going to have your style because there is no one like you.”

In retrospect, it was infrared film that allowed me to reach back into my childhood to see the joy found in that nine year-old fantasy world and transpose it into my images today, like closing a circle.

During the later years of photography courses, I focused solely on IR film, but also took workshops with Joyce Tennyson, Clyde Butcher and a weekend class with Jill Enfield, who was then hand coloring infrared images. Icing on the infrared image! I went out and bought a set of Marshall’s Photo Oils to color with and matte paper to print my images on.

As the years passed digital arrived on the scene and, in 2007, I purchased my first converted Nikon D-70 with a 720nm. I’ve moved through three more cameras until finally choosing a Sony a7r mirrorless for its contrast, light weight and sharp images. During those early digital years, processing my images presented another learning curve so I took a few classes on the basics with the bulk of knowledge gained being self-taught.  I’ve finally achieved a level of comfort processing my images via Photoshop and Luminar.

Infrared photography has allowed me to explore my love of surrealism; it is my “thumbprint” in the world of photography and my passion.  A photographer friend said to me, “You see in infrared, Sherri!” I suppose that is true. Infrared allows me to connect to that little girl who preferred to see the otherworldly in her simple rural surroundings. Another element about infrared that thrills me – you never really know what you have photographed until it is processed; after all, it’s invisible light!  For me, this adds to both the challenge and attraction of infrared as my favorite photographic medium.

Moving back home to Colorado after 27 years of living around the world, a lot has changed since my childhood, yet the landscapes are still out there to photograph.  Infrared photography adores the austere ruggedness of the western scenes.  In particular, the skies and arid vegetation come alive via infrared.  I see the invisible light of the prairies and deserts in monochrome where so many other photographers see color-filled mountain views.

I’m presently photographing a series on area farmhouses in Colorado before they disappear due to development, fracking and decay. Infrared is the perfect medium to preserve the memory of these homes and this era as it creates a dreamlike quality to the subject. A good friend of my recently commented on my farmhouse images, “I love the haunting quality of your photography. Your photos have an otherworldly sense of half remembered dreams.”  Success in conveying those childhood memories, there is joy in that.

Website: https://www.sherrimabeimages.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/starlitwaltz/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sherrimabeimages/

 

Hollyhock Summer

Farms of Northern Colorado

The images of farms in my portfolio are a continuation of a series I’m working on here in Colorado. 

Colorado Farms
“This land pulses with life. It breathes in me; it breathes around me; it breathes in spite of me. When I walk on this land, I am walking on the heartbeat of the past and the future. And that’s only one of the reasons I am a farmer.”
― Brenda Sutton Rose

The last five months I’ve been documenting farms in Northern Colorado. My adopted grandparents farmed here until the early 70’s, so my memories as a young girl visiting the farm are vivid…the cool air in the mornings, the large family midday meals, harvest, the smell of fresh cut silage and sugar beet trucks lining the roads in autumn, the magnificent cottonwoods which shaded many of the farmhouses, hard work and the peace provided by the many places to simply be alone.

Today this farming area is shrinking. Development along the Front Range is one reason, but there are others…water rights, income, fracking, a rising water table in some areas, and simply some younger folks moving on from the family farm; change on many levels.

I was away from Colorado for almost 30 years, so after seeing the changes to the land, I decided to photograph my memories here. These images were made with a Sony a7R (mirrorless/full frame) converted to infrared with a 720nm filter which creates a dreamy ethereal look, perfect for how
I want to preserve the history and memories of my childhood home.

“These memories are part of my heritage, the fabric of my personality, and as real to me as the land itself.”
― Karen Jones Gowen, Farm Girl

Here is a link to a document on the history of agriculture in Weld County: http://www.historycolorado.org/

South of Eaton

“Monochrome”

MONOCHROME
a juried photographic exhibition

Opening Reception August 31, 6-8pm
Exhibition Runs August 29 to October 29

Photographers of all levels were invited to submit their original photography for consideration. Black and white photography—Shades of gray and single toned [sepia, selenium, etc] The Monochrome Exhibition is a juried photography exhibit of fine art.

The mission of Monochrome Photography Show is a challenge to photographers to demonstrate their use of light to help define the subject. The light can be natural or artificial; or a combination that enhances the impact, drama, emotion, and/or message of the image.

Joanna B. Pinneo, National Geographic Photographer and Monochrome 2017 Photography Show Judge

 

 

 

The Gathering–Show Selection
Flourishing Ascent–Show Selection
The Nonconformists–Show Selection
Withering-Splendor–Honorable Mention

Last Call at the Esquire–Honorable Mention

Storm on the Horizon

Storm on the Horizon – Top Shot, National Geographic

I am honored to have the editors at National Geographic’s Top Shot choose my photo for the September 20, 2016 Daily Dozen, and have it go on to win Top Shot, as seen in the Editors’ Spotlight on National Geographic’s website, Instagram’s Your Shot, and Tumblr’s Your Shot.

“An August afternoon storm in Colorado Springs along the Front Range of the Rockies. This photo was taken from our deck at sunset, thus the incredible colors,” said Mabe. “The composition was limited as the storm was very fast and severe, so driving out for better shot was not an option. I don’t usually shoot color, but this storm was powerfully stunning!”

Photograph by Sherri Mabe

 

Shiprock

Shiprock, Bears Ears and Sacred Geography

Shiprock is a dramatic 7,177-foot-high rock mountain located in northwestern New Mexico about 20 miles southwest of the town of Shiprock. Geographically speaking, the rock reveals the exposed neck of a long vanished volcano that erupted over 30 million years ago and is easily recognized from a distance for its towering profile. To the Navajo people, Shiprock has greater significance than being known only as a geographical landmark.

The Navajo call Shiprock, “Tsé Bitʼa,” meaning Rock with Wings. From a distance, Shiprock looks like a large sitting bird with its wings folded to its sides. Legend says that a gigantic bird carried the Navajos from the icy northern lands to the Four Corners area. This story’s significance in placing the Diné (Navajo people) within their homeland is a core spiritual and cultural belief that allots Shiprock far greater meaning as a sacred landmark than one of only mere geographical interest. There are many examples of North American areas where prominent terrain and incredible geographic vistas intersect with Native American religious and historical beliefs. A Native American Omaha/Cherokee man I met last year refers to these areas as “Sacred Geography.”

His name is Taylor Keen. This past December, Taylor presented a fascinating lecture on Sacred Geography here at Colorado College in Colorado Springs. Taylor is writing a book titled, Rediscovering America: Sacred Geography, the Ancient Earthen Works and the Real Story of America. Taylor’s lecture, and his book, discusses how ancient Native cultures used scientific methods to understand their world and their place within it. He gave an account of how ancient Native American people were highly sophisticated in intertwining religious belief with scientific understanding through awareness of the seasons and celestial movements. They demonstrated this understanding through their use of Sacred Geography.

According to Taylor, “Native peoples of the Americas, and their unique history, art, culture and cosmologies are the most misunderstood topic in these United States.” During his lecture, Taylor shared his experiences and scientific conclusions regarding Native people’s use of archaeoastronomy, sacred algebra, and algorithms in orienting and constructing earthen mounds used for religious, ceremonial, and burial purposes. At the conclusion of Taylor’s lecture, I began to see that the spiritual inspiration I feel through my lens when photographing our beautifully austere western landscapes is but one layer of a much deeper historical and scientific connection linking us to ancient civilizations and their Sacred Geography. I highly recommend attending one of Taylor’s lectures to those that might have a chance to do so.  Taylor is also heading an effort to preserve sacred seeds and the traditional planting ways of Native Americans.

Sadly, unbridled encroachment of our lands, including those considered ground zero for Sacred Geography, is proceeding at an unrelenting pace. In southeastern Utah, Bears Ears, a pair of buttes located in San Juan County, is sacred to multiple tribes as a century’s old gathering place for Native ceremonies. These buttes are threatened by mining, drilling, and vandalism and should be designated a National Monument to prevent further destruction. Short term economic considerations cannot continue to take a front seat over the significance of Sacred Geography. According to Richard Moe, who was president of the National Trust for Historic Preservation from 1993 to 2010, “Bears Ears represents the most important and intact array of unprotected cultural resources on federal land. And those resources are increasingly at risk — from looting, vandalism, off-road vehicles, grave robbing and the occasional carelessness of visitors.”

There is hope. A newly formed Bears Ears Inter-Tribal Coalition comprised of Hopi, Navajo, Ute, Mountain Ute, Ouray Ute, Zuni, and Uintah Tribes has established a goal to conserve Bears Ears. The Coalition has proposed a U.S. Presidential National Monument under the Antiquities Act of 1906 that would so designate and protect this historical and sacred area. The Bears Ears Monument would encompass 1.9 million acres of starkly beautiful ancestral land on the Colorado Plateau that would permanently preserve this Sacred Geography for future generations.

In closing, I offer the thoughts of well known author, Terry Tempest Williams, who shares her perspective on the importance of Bears Ears. Tempest states, “…the Bears Ears National Monument proposal honors the deep residency of native peoples living inside the Colorado Plateau. The tribes are asking each of us to acknowledge an embodied intelligence born of the land that warrants as much respect and protection as the wilderness, itself. The Bears Ears National Monument Proposal has the potential to transform Utah’s rancorous politics of place into an ethic of place for generations to come.”

For those wanting to help preserve Sacred Geography while adding their voice to designating Bears Ears a National Monument, you can make your wishes known here.

This photo was taken in the spring of 2015 with an infrared converted Nikon 7100, then processed in photoshop with Nik filters and Flypaper Textures.

Garden of the Gods, A Legend

This Native American legend of the Garden of the Gods was compiled a half century ago by Ford C. Frick, and placed on file at the Pioneers Museum, Colorado Springs, Colorado:

“In the nestling vales and on the grassy plains which lie at the foot of the Great White Mountain that points the way to heaven lived the Chosen People. Here they dwelt in happiness together. And above them on the summit of the Mighty Peak where stand the Western Gates of Heaven, dwelt the Manitou.” (Manitou is the spiritual and fundamental life force understood by Algonquian groups of Native Americans.)

“And that the Chosen People might know of his love the Manitou did stamp upon the Peak the image of his face that all might see and worship him.”

“But one day as the storm clouds played about the Peak, the image of the Manitou was hidden…And down from the North swept a barbaric tribe of giants, taller than the spruce which grew upon the mountain side, and so great that in their stamping strides they shook the earth.”

“And with the invading host came gruesome beasts – unknown and awful in their mightiness- monstrous beasts that would devour the earth and tread it down.”

“And as the invading hosts came on, the Chosen Ones fell to the earth at the first gentle slope of the mountain and prayed to Manitou for aid. Then came to pass a wondrous miracle. The clouds broke away and sunshine smote the Peak. And from the very summit, looking down, appeared the face of Manitou himself. And sternly he looked upon the advancing host, and as he looked the Giants and the beasts turned into stone within their very steps…. And when the white men came they called the spot the Garden of the Gods…but we who know the history of the race still call it ‘Valley of the Miracle,’ for here it was that Manitou gave aid to save his chosen.”

This image was made with a Nikon 7100 SLR converted to infrared by Life Pixel with a 720 filter. It was processed via photoshop.

Bird in a Gilded Cage

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
― Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

I snapped this image in 1998 for an advanced photography course I was enrolled in while living in Tampa. One day on a whim while collaborating with friend and fellow photographer, Lori Ballard, this image came to life. We were playing dress up, posing around antiques, drinking champagne, being silly while taking photos in my home. With one press of the shutter release and some time in the darkroom, this image went on to win first place in the Annual Student Art Show.

Everyone has a story to be told and this was when I began telling mine via a camera and its unique way of transforming everyday life into MAGIC.

Please visit Lori’s website, she is an exceptional photographer and friend. Lori Ballard Photography

This image was created using my very first camera, an old Canon AE-1, a first anniversary gift from my husband. I used Kodak T-Max 100, 100TMX, Black & White Negative Film, ISO 100, which I developed and printed in a campus darkroom. The image was shot indoors in natural light next to a window, my favorite light.

The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.  To him… a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death.  Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create — so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him.  He must create, must pour out creation.  By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating. ”
— Pearl S. Buck