By Heather Killen
The Spectator
NovaNewsNow.com
There’s nothing wrong with dark portraits, Ken Flett said after he snaps off the overhead light and sits down in a comfortable chair beside the window.
As a photographic artist, he must realize that the light will fall in a dramatic side split across his face, leaving the other side to rest into the shadows. He tilts his head and softens the profile.
It takes cooperation to create a portrait, so maybe it’s better to accept this before he wears a face for the camera. His studio at the Oakdene Centre in Bear River feels like a space in transition, with some pictures neatly lined-up on the wall and other items loose and scattered on the floor.
Flett studied at the College of Art in Calgary and early on was influenced by the work of Diane Arbus, an American photographer remembered for her startling black and white portraits of rare and unusual people.
Flett doesn’t exactly talk about his art as much as he talks about the people in his pictures. He said he started taking photographs using a simple camera to document moments, but one day he felt inspired to dribble paint over a 16x20 print.
This was back in the days when photographic paper was used sparingly and with great respect. In this way he said he was able to show more of the conversation and feelings of the time. Soon he was using layers of canvas, beeswax, old tin, and stitches in an effort to preserve more of the smells, and textures of the moments.
All the materials he uses on each layer have a history forming a multi-dimensional relationship. There’s an old sewing machine in his workspace, a working memento from an old friendship. Mike Lambie was an alcoholic who lived alone and Flett would see him around town, back when he still lived on the Island.
“I used to see this man riding around on his bike, usually wearing a orange skirt and towing a tiny dog behind him on a rope,” he said. Over time he and Lambie became friends, Flett would visit and they would talk.
“Taking pictures is like tiptoeing into the kitchen late at night and stealing Oreo cookies.” - -- Diane Arbus
At first, he had butterflies when he took his camera on the visits. Flett said people thought Mike was weird, as he used to steal women’s lingerie and would sometimes make his own dresses with the sewing machine. The moments Flett captured are honest and unwavering photographs of intimate moments.
“He wanted contact, companionship, friendship,” he said. “I think when he dressed up in lingerie, he was going on a date with himself.”
After Lambie died, his brother gave Flett the sewing machine. Putting the gift to good use, he layered as much as he could from moments they spent together, stitching together the good and bad, the happy and the sad.
Flett also worked for about a year at a homeless shelter in Prince Albert, Saskatchewan and began making portraits of the people he encountered. Many of these photos were taken on the street, moments shared over a smoke and a cup of coffee.
“That community had a hard choice to make, they could build a school or a prison,” he said. “They built a prison.”
Each of the people in the photographs brings a story and each portrait captures the layers of the time. Flett said he learned there is a family of humanity that bonds on the street, when everything else is stripped away.
A small gesture like a shared cigarette, or a common fire brings tremendous comfort and unity.
“We all just want love,” he said. “It’s like a disaster, everything has been stripped away. But then they build a community.”
To see more of Ken Flett’s work, visit the blog at http://www.kenflett.com. One of his pieces, Bacchus can be seen at Flight of Fancy in Bear River.
