It was the end of a long nine-hour drive home from Chicago.
I was coming into Niagara Falls over the Grand Island Bridge. Downriver, a brilliant red sunset painted the horizon with the mist of Niagara Falls billowing up into the sky.
Seeing this beauty, I knew I was home.
But, after a moment I glanced back at the mist for a second look and realized it was not the iconic Niagara mist at all, it was factory smoke pouring billowing out of one of the dozens of chemical factories that line the Niagara River.
“Ok, well, I’m home”, I thought.
Years passed, and that memory stuck with me. How could I have grown up in this small city my entire life have mistaken these two disparate parts of the landscape for being one and the same? But I had mistaken and that changed me forever.
I have spent these past 18 years observing, researching and creating art about Niagara County’s toxic legacy. I approached the topic like a data scientist and looked at every angle. I used so many different kinds of mediums - river glass, industrial by products and photography -- to explore my ideas and try and create an understanding of how this came to be.
Niagara Falls Factory Series, silver gelatin print, 8” x 6” , 2014
Forgotten photos
In 2004 I was an art student at the University of Buffalo and took some photos of the chemical factories in Niagara. When I took the photos, I didn’t feel what I feel today, in fact, they barely registered with me. I remember slotting them into negative sleeves, popping them into a binder on my bookshelf and there they sat for the next 11 years.
But in early spring 2015, I was sorting through some old black and white negatives, and they reappeared as if they had a life of their own. When I pulled the images back out again, I knew exactly why I had taken them.
These photos became the underlying imagery for a collection of paintings I created later that year called “Missed”.
That summer, I was in a creative frenzy and painted with abandon. I combined the contrary imagery of factories and mist from the falls with that brilliant sunset burned in mind - blurring them all together. It was an epic month of creativity, and I created a series of ten paintings. And that has stayed with me since that time. But in this epic frenzy of creation - ten paintings in one month - there was and even more significant moment that will always stay with me.
Painting “Missed” in my garage in 2015.
Now it was personal
I had taken a break from my frenzied painting to spend an evening with my mom. My oldest brother Joe came by while I was there. He walked in and silently sat down on the couch across from us. He wore a ghostly expression on his face.
He just looked at us and said he was going to die. Joe had just come from the emergency room for pain in his ribs. Some of those ribs turned out to be broken. But in the end, that didn’t matter because the elephant in the room was he had cancer.
His hematologist diagnosed him with Multiple Myeloma - a cancer of the blood that is treatable but not curable. He was younger than the typical Multiple Myeloma patient, which was an advantage because he was healthier on the whole, but it also meant he would have to face this cancer for the rest of his life.
In Joe’s first meeting with his hematologist his doctor asked him if he was from Niagara Falls and if he lived near Love Canal.
The answer to both was yes.
His doctor was hesitant to say this was why he had cancer, but he implied it. Joe started treatment as part of a clinical trial at Roswell Cancer Institute in Buffalo immediately.
Resolute
The next day I walked into my studio with a third of my painting collection still unfinished. I felt like what I was doing was the most insignificant collection of work in the world.
I felt like there were far more important things I could spend my time on.
But about a week after Joe’s initial cancer treatment, he came to see the work I was doing with these paintings. Still belittled and embarrassed about the significance of the paintings, I tried to explain the concept to him.
Joe then told me something that filled my heart. He said he also used to drive around Niagara taking photos of the dilapidated buildings and factories. He thought what I was doing was really cool. In that one moment of photographic confession between us, something beautiful happened and it pushed me to finish the collection
The genesis of UNSEEN
After a year of deep thought and contemplation, I decided that the next project I was going to create was called UNSEEN. The project was going to be about people, not factories, or mist or beautiful sunsets but how the people of Niagara have been affected by toxins in their homes and the environment around them - playgrounds, schools, gardens, backyards, basements, bedrooms and front porches with rocking chairs.
UNSEEN would begin with the story of my brother Joe.
Family and colleagues warned me about the possible repercussions of going down this dark path and how that would affect me. They were right.
UNSEEN created some of the most difficult challenges in my life both emotionally and physically. But even through those trying moments, I would make the same decision again because this project became more than a work of art or a commentary on the state of our environment and our health.
UNSEEN developed into a community of genuine voices from Niagara’s toxic underbelly. Stories shared from all across Niagara county that now will never be lost.
In the Summer of 2017 I interviewed my brother Joe for UNSEEN at his house in Niagara Falls
Interviewing Joe in his home in 2017.
This was the moment of no return for the inception of UNSEEN. Joe’s story has been the cornerstone of my creation in this multimedia installation.
I interviewed 18 people from Niagara County for UNSEEN during a 9 month period. Their stories are the heart and soul of the installation.
Many people continue to come forward to have their voices heard. I am grateful to everyone who has volunteered to tell their story.
Four years after Joe’s diagnosis, he is doing well and maintains a rigorous treatment program.
UNSEEN opens at the Burchfield Penney Art Center April 10th, 2020, and runs through July 2020.
UNSEEN is funded by the Global Warming Art Project grant Ben Perrone and the ‘Environment Maze’ project donors; administered by Arts Services Initiative of WNY.
Thank you to Jennifer Kite-Powell for editing this blog.