Sometimes I imagine the slowest movie.
I attempt to reduce it to a single frame.
ejh

Biography
"Eric J Henderson shoots primarily in nighttime long exposures and exclusively with a 1950 Kodak Brownie Hawkeye found and bought for $5 off the street in Harlem, 2003 at 125th and Park Avenue, the site of the now defunct “junkie’s bazaar” – a spot where a few guys would gather and sell whatever they found on the street that day."

I had never shot anything before finding it as I was not a photographer and had no particular interest in photography. It seemed that the Brownie camera would just make the coolest paperweight, being a classic art deco signifier. However, it soon took over my life after I wondered aloud, "How does this work?"

I like to travel the night for things that pertain exactly to the night. Further, I compose in multiple exposures, often using the crosswalk figure, the “walking man,” as protagonist. The intensely manual nature of the camera, no automated settings, points the machine and, thus, my work to become whatever I am, a natural extension. I don't use a tripod, save the earth itself, the side of a building or some rock that I find.

The Brownie is so remembered because it was the first to enter the popular mind in the same way digital photography has done. You don't have to wait on "the photographer" now: You can take a good picture. However, what I find compelling about the Brownie is its most underused feature among the very few it has: long exposure.

During the Brownie's time, the understandably addictive immediacy of "Point! Shoot!" didn't fit with telling your subject, "Alright, Aunt Kay. Hmm...there's not enough light in here. So, I need you to be perfectly still for 7 seconds - and smile." No, the Brownie became our principal method of documenting life - picnics, beach shots, and family shots wherever. We were too close to remembering the time when we had to sit still. The 50's, as the dawn of industrial high-tech, would have none of that "old time" photography at this moment of first-time commerical availability.

Thus, the night remained largely untouched, then or before except by only a few professionals, e.g. Alfred Stieglitz (1930's), Brassai (1940's), O. Winston Link(1950's), Jesse Tarbox Beals (1900's). And, further, art was certainly not a question to ask of the Brownie as it was the people's camera, having brought photography to the masses on an unprecedented scale.

So, at this juncture, 1949, we left behind a technical capability that was purposefully built into an amateur's camera: long exposure. You set it by raising a little button on the top left of the camera. For as much as we used it, though, it was practically vestigial. Today, there is much long exposure photography, though very little of it is manual as light meters, tripods, and remote buttons came into play. You set timers, adjust knobs and buttons ...and voila.

However, and without being gratuitously romantic, I have to note that, for me, the contstraints and orthodoxies built into using the machine without these implements has opened up an infinite creative space, even an intimate creative space as I am always a full part of taking the photo. The result is a scene and sensitivity that is unique to the confluence in one moment of my person (in mood, sensibility, etc.), the Brownie Camera, the work I have to do to frame the image, and the actual execution. So, it's not for nostalgia. It's for a real image that I use the Brownie, one that can only be captured in that way. You may note in some of my images what looks like a daytime scenes quickly returns to night as you see nighttime shadows and lights on in the buildings.

It is exactly at this point where I "put in" to explore, never using a flash and varying the length of time I manually hold the shutter open (and the camera perfectly still), according to the available light and what I'm looking for -- while counting out the exposure in my head.

I am grateful to have been shown at Rush Arts Gallery, in solo exhibition/residency at The Forsyth Center Galleries (Texas A&M University), Maison Rouge (Chicago) and at The Studio Museum in Harlem (SMH), among other venues. Commissioned works have appeared in the SMH magazine, Studio. Media coverage has included National Public Radio (WNYC- New York), El Diario La Prensa and The Dallas Morning news as well a a note in The New Yorker magazine for “standout” works. Commissioned work for the Bombay Sapphire brand and as a teaching artist with a focus on social improvement, having worked with The World Bank, Starbucks, OneWorld Now! and Amideast, among other entities.

The Idea
I use the Brownie camera exclusively, but not for nostalgia. It’s an honest and current tool whose heritage is of import to me. I mean, I am moved by the design and the art deco 1950 character it has, but I'm intrigued more by the idea of technology often advancing not because we've exhausted it, but rather because we simply want something new. When we want new things for the sake of what’s new, we must, by definition, leave behind some undiscovered utility. I imagine that when we abandon heritage on the basis of a narrow affinity for technology that we also abandon myriad futures that may be of use to us.

I want to find what's lies in the infinity between the parameters of this supposedly outdated technology. I'm reminded of the conundrum of a number line: You can get from "1" to "2," but only practically, not mathematically. This exploration of infinity is fuel for me and for us, producing not only photos, but also ways of thinking, ways of doing.

Writing is also a necessity and pleasure for me with frequent contributions to Advertising Age (adage.com) and other publications, writing on subjects including: advertising, marketing, art, culture and creativity, all in the context of social action and observation. My photography is a launching pad for this work through exploration of the thoughts that drive the images.

I thank you.

The Driver
Sometimes I imagine the slowest movie. I attempt to reduce it to a single frame.