Recently, I discovered an inviting book, Still: The Art of Noticing. Compiled by Mary Jo Hoffman, a Minnesota photographer, the book is a remarkable collection of close-up photos of found objects from nature. Included are leaves and branches, stems, buds, feathers, and a variety of other objects, sometimes including the bodies of birds and other animals revealing pathos and beauty in death.
Hoffman displays her subjects almost universally against a white background, placing emphasis on the forms and patterns of the subjects without distraction. Sometimes she poses solitary subjects such as a feather or branch on her simple prop, a sheet of white cardboard. But just as often, she arrays larger collections in patterns that range from the simple to the extraordinarily complex.
Hoffman’s work represents more than a decade of photographic activity, both near her present Minnesota residence and in other locations, including a lengthy sojourn in the south of France. Throughout she’s maintained a dedicated practice of making at least one photograph daily. The result is a notably rich assemblage of photos that are at once both enticing and inspiring. Her minimalistic setup allows her to easily work both in her kitchen or in the backyard, in forests, prairies, and roadside ditches.
As she developed the book, which is beautifully presented in a fine, full-sized volume, Hoffman developed a keen sensitivity to the natural rhythms of seasonal life, as evidenced by her presentation of photos from the 72 micro-seasons she identified through close observation and that characterize the life cycles in Minnesota.
Hoffman’s book stands out for its creativity in capturing the small details of natural life, for elevating common subjects to the level of art, for demonstrating that simple gear and technologies can lead to astounding results, and for promoting sensitivity to the fine qualities of the too often mundane and overlooked.
For lovers of nature and those who seem to inspire their own capacity for seeing closely, this book will be a valuable resource.
The photographs that accompany this essay were created in the spirit engendered by Hoffman. While they may not rise to the level of Hoffman’s art and creative expression, these images nonetheless offer an insight into her sensitive exploration of small things.
