Paul Caponigro’s “Running White Deer, County Wicklow, Ireland, 1967” — Amy Miller for #PhotosWeLove
It seems as if my life — at least life as I know it now — didn’t kick off until I went to graduate school at the age of 27 to study photography in New York. What a time; full of life lessons and important firsts. I was working as an assistant at a photography gallery. My first gallery job. I had the opportunity to attend my first AIPAD fair, the Association of International Photography Art Dealers annual exposition. What an incredible experience this was! It was as if I could have hand-picked almost every photograph I ever wanted to see and have it delivered to New York for my viewing pleasure! Of course, all the art dealers were less concerned with my viewing pleasure as they were with making sales to collectors. At that time in my life, when taking a cab was an extravagant luxury, it goes without saying that I was just looking. A lot of discoveries were made at AIPAD. Amazing photographers I never knew existed, images I had never dreamed of, techniques I was amazed by.
During my exploration of AIPAD, I happened upon a photograph by Paul Caponigro. It was a long, horizontal, black and white image of a dark forest. Perhaps the image was taken at dusk — the forest is so dark as to be barely discernable. Completely mysterious and wild. At the edge of this forest is a small herd of white animals. Deer.
The edge of any forest is an electric place. A borderline, a permeable boundary that delineates the visible and the hidden — it pulses with the power of its own metaphor. The deer are blurred from motion. They are running, you see, along the edge of this dark forest. They have emerged and are exposed, out in the open. Skittish and ghostly on delicate pale legs. A fleeting moment perhaps in a dream.
Holding this photograph I suddenly remembered something. When I was in my early twenties, I had a series of powerful, talismanic dreams. Each dream contained a white animal that somehow connected with my soul. These animals taught me to recognize my own inner strength and wisdom. I put the photograph back in its bin and walked away, my state of mind altered by a strange nostalgia.
After grad school I got a job at a gallery in Atlanta. Every so often I would see “Running White Deer” in books or online and remember that day at AIPAD. Fifteen interesting and eventful years go by and find me visiting with my friends at Jackson Fine Art. The gallery’s owner, Anna, opens a drawer in her flat files to show me something special she has for sale. There it is, looking up at me.
I am now the proud owner of Paul Caponigro’s “Running White Deer, County Wicklow, Ireland, 1967”. It is a hauntingly beautiful reminder of how I felt that day at AIPAD, of my dreams and inner strength, and of photography’s power to somehow encapsulate all of those things in a black and white image that hangs by a nail on my wall.
