Maria Daniela Quirós: Nostalgia, Humor and the Everyday

Without fail, I am always excited to see Maria Daniela Quirós's name appear on the address exchange list. Her postcards often feature an act of participation from the viewer or are pointed observations of the everyday. Last June, I interviewed Maria from her home in San Francisco. Life happened in its unexpected ways and her responses were buried so deeply in my inbox, it was not until this week that I am able to publish them. Without further ado (and unnecessary excuses), the interview!

Image by Maria Daniela Quirós

Jacinda Russell: Can you briefly describe your personal history as it directly relates to the concepts behind the mail art you send.

Maria Daniela Quirós: I am originally from Venezuela. I recently moved to San Francisco, CA, but had been living the last 10 years between Paris and Barcelona. Through these years I’ve worked as a graphic designer, studied photography and also worked as a freelance photographer. Since 2010 I’ve been developing my personal projects, including being an active member of the Postcard Collective. 

Image by Maria Daniela Quirós

JR: The first "card" I received from you looked like a small poster with nine images on the front and a large photograph on the back from the Analog Photo Journal Series. Postcards that followed paid close attention to presentation whether or not they are sealed in two envelopes taped together or encased within a napkin and paper bag. What is the role that presentation plays in the creation of your cards? Do you conceive of the end product first and work your way backwards?

Image by Maria Daniela Quirós

MDQ: Yes, presentation has always played an important role in my projects. I consider it to be one of the essential parts of the narrative, and the starting point of the viewer’s experience. It is as essential as the creation of the image. I think my graphic design background has played an important role in my visual communication choices. The work I’ve done for print publications has taught me about print materials and how to apply them to help communicate an idea. Normally I have an idea of the end product at the beginning, but usually it is pretty loose and evolves into something related but different. I constantly try to imagine the postcard receiver and the whole experience: receiving it, opening it, unfolding it, discovering the layers and finally, the message inside… And that’s when the best ideas come!

Image by Maria Daniela Quirós

JR: Often you request that the audience participate in order to complete the experience. Once you asked us to interact with a map on a given website and another time, a question as simple as "what do you see?", which requires no correspondence with you, appeared on the back. My favorite card was the doughnut from the theme "Exchange" which requested an image in return via email, Twitter or Instagram. How often do people respond and what was the most surprising result?

Image by Jacinda Russell

MDQ: When I invite the audience to be part of the experience, normally a group of people respond. It’s so exciting when the postcards are sent and the responses start to arrive! I really enjoyed seeing the evolution of the map (Mapping the postcards) and learning about everyone’s favorite things (Donut postcard). For the “Exchange” theme only a small group answered back, but their responses were awesome!!! This postcard exchange was very rewarding because it helped me to create a long distance bond with some of the participants. I loved the things they exchanged with me. Of course I can share a few examples! Cassidy shared with me a pizza fresh out the oven from a place in Tucson called Marco’s. I also had a lovely reply from Caitlin, who shared with me a sniff of the wheatgrass she grew in the summer time for her preschool program.

Photograph by Cat Lynch

JR: Your artwork, as seen on your website, Instagram feed, and the Postcard Collective, concentrates on everyday objects and encounters. You depict this through a wide range of styles including the still life, architecture and landscape. In addition, you incorporate humor (the Mulligan exchange) but contrast that with sadness and loss (A Great Distance). What role does personal experience play in these choices?

Photograph by Maria Daniela Quirós

MDQ: A lot! My experiences and constant life changes are definitely visible in my work. You can see it reflected in each postcard I’ve done. I like to share what I am closest to, what I am experiencing at the time and my perspective on it. Hopefully what I do is relatable and familiar to those viewing my work. I have been lucky to spend the last years living and exploring new places that have helped to enrich my projects and grow as a person. For example, the ‘Life and Death’ and ‘Mulligan’ postcards are related to my home country. They both touch on the difficulties in Venezuela and reflect its character, but with “Mulligan” I tried to show some of the characteristic unintentional humor seen on the streets. The ‘A great distance’ exchange happened when I moved to San Francisco. My postcards were a reflection on the nostalgia I felt for all of the places I’ve called home.

Photograph by Maria Daniella Quirós

JR: How has moving to the United States changed the way you perceive your photography and how has that (or will that) relate to your submissions for the Postcard Collective?

MDQ: I’ve definitely seen a big change in my work. New places are always motivating for me as a photographer. So far, I have been captivated by my surroundings and haven’t stopped taking pictures since I’ve arrived! South America, Europe and the US are different, and I am very excited about the new things I will soon discover. I am sure that this experience will be evident in my next exchanges. I am looking forward to it! :)

Spring 2015 underway

The collection is growing...

New things on the horizon

Hello! If you're paying attention to the dates on our blog posts, I wouldn't hold it against you if you assumed The Postcard Collective has stalled, or even stopped entirely. Not the case!

We're still here. We're still making postcards. Most importantly, we're still finding new ways to promote creativity through the postal service.

New things are on the horizon. Watch out!

Top 3 reasons the Spring 2014 call for entries is a month late. Or, why you should be in Baltimore on March 7th.

1. I stumbled into a parallel universe and spent the last four weeks finding a way back.
2. Gremlins in my computer had a month-long party and refused to post the call.
3. What call for entries?

Actually, it was a deliberate choice to push this one back. Why, you ask? 

Three letters (or four words, if you prefer): SPE.

In case you haven't heard the news, we'll be giving a panel discussion at next week's national Society for Photographic Education conference. It's called Make, Stamp, Ship, Receive: Four Years with the Postcard Collective. We're scheduled for 1pm-2:45pm in Keys 3-4 on Friday; if you're attending the conference, come by and say "hello". We'll have lots of these fancy postcards (see below) for you to take home and/or send to friends colleagues, loved ones, or complete strangers.

Now, what does all this have to do with the call for entries? Upon examination of our annual schedule, you'll notice that the call for Spring exchange entries typically ends on March 1st. Since our SPE panel is scheduled for March 7th, the folks in the audience would have to wait until May to enter. I don't know about you, but I'd likely forget about my excitement over the course of two months. Put simply, we wanted to provide SPE conference goers the opportunity to be considered for participation in the Spring 2014 exchange.

The exchange will still happen on May 1st.

Having said all that, go fill out our entry form for the Spring 2014 Exchange!

The Postman's Choice

Today, I received a postcard in "hommage à Ben Vautier." The piece was The Postman's Choice from Flux Year Box 2 and the man who sent it resides in Berlin. It was fitting because my most recent submission to the Postcard Collective comments on Mail Art subversion and it is a path I would like to continue to pursue. This post provides that inspiration.

In "The Assault on Culture: Mail Art," Stuart Home writes: "Individual Fluxists also dreamed up methods of subverting the postal system and increasing the involvement of postal workers in their mailings. The best known example of this is the Ben Vautier postcard "The Postman's Choice" (1965). This was printed identically on both sides with lines ruled out for different addresses and space for a stamp. It was left to chance and the postal authorities to decide which of the two possible addresses it should be delivered to."

It was easy to see why the post office delivered it to me due the location of the address on the card above. I feel badly that Jack Saunders was not able to participate in this action (or be a recipient) and I cannot help but think that should be remedied.

Hannah Barnes: The Swainson's Thrush Meets Victorian Papercraft

[Full disclosure: The author and the interviewee have more than transformative experiences through their love of birds and participation in the Postcard Collective in common. Together they have visited Maine twice (though the author has no recollection of seeing the Swainson's Thrush),  camped in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, and spent numerous hours discussing their respective artwork. ]

The first time I saw Hannah Barnes draw a bird was on a napkin at a local bar. They have since appeared on many birthday cards and even an abstract rendition in one of her paintings (that I meticulously searched her website for and could not find). Despite knowing Hannah for the last seven years, I learned so much more about her working process and influences through this interview.  There is nothing like a formal structure to better understand someone's artwork you think you knew well.

Jacinda Russell: Tell me about your relationship with birds as they have appeared on and off in your artwork and are featured prominently in both your entries for the Postcard Collective.

Hannah Barnes: I would consider myself a novice birder at best. I don’t know very much about birds, but I do credit them for some of my most profound moments in the wilderness. They have been adept at teaching me how to pay attention. Trying to pick out a tiny yellow warbler high up among a dense mass of leaves, patiently, without moving, with one’s senses fully open – this sort of ‘present-moment awareness’ is profound and transformative.

Both of my grandfathers are amateur birders, but I knew little about birds until I moved to Maine and had the opportunity to spend time in the wilderness. The first bird I learned about was the Swainson’s Thrush. It’s a small, unremarkable looking brown bird that is very difficult to spot, as it blends in very well with its habitat.  Although it isn’t much to look at, the thrush has a distinctive musical, flute-like call, considered by some birders to be the most beautiful of all birdsongs. It can be heard throughout the summer in the wooded areas of Maine. I think the thrush somehow sneakily  ‘throws’ its voice, because although it spends most of its time hopping along the forest floor, its song always seems to be coming from the overhead canopy.

Bird Love Token (Image provided by Hannah Barnes)

JR: You are one of the few people that have submitted postcards that incorporate interactivity as the main means of expression. A story is unveiled at the turn of a dial resulting in a cyclical presentation where the viewer decides where it must end or begin. What is your interest in this format?

HB: Part of what excites me about the Postcard Collective is the format itself. These days, it seems the postcard, like most hand-mailed correspondence, is becoming an increasingly antiquated form of communication (evidenced by the fact that in 2011, the USPS nearly went through with a plan to close more than 3,700 struggling branches). I feel mournful about this because when I was a teenager, letter writing was my favorite way to communicate with my friends. I even had an Australian pen-pal. I loved writing and receiving letters and postcards; I spent hours crafting envelopes from scratch, embellishing them with elaborate text, and filling them with mementos, letters, and drawings. When I first approached creating an artist postcard for the Collective, my natural instinct was to channel these qualities of handicraft and personal exchange.

The simple interactive, handmade format of my cards reminds me of objects and sentiments from a bygone era, much like the postcard itself. The turning paper wheel I’ve used in my past cards is a simple mechanism that offers a narrative ‘page-turning,’ ah-hah/surprise device, as well as an element of play, novelty, and interactivity. As a kid, I loved simple interactive wooden and paper games and toys like Jacob’s ladders, jigsaw puzzles, origami, and pop-up books; the moving-part card works (I hope) in a similar way.

Vintage Valentines (Images provided by Hannah Barnes)

JR: These are sad anecdotes in which humans kill birds maliciously or unintentionally. You conceal their deaths until the last few words spin visibly in the opening. There is excitement in turning the dial (as an element of play) yet the content contradicts this action. Ultimately, I am left despising the people that would kill an animal in these ways. What would you like the viewer to take from this and why was it important to make two postcards that drive these points home?

HB: Birds seem to have so much to tell us about ourselves, and about our planet. We have seen numerous species become extinct in modern history – over 190 since 1500. Many of these extinctions can be attributed directly to human activity – our arrogance toward other species, our disregard for nature, and our failure or refusal to understand its laws of interdependence. I suspect that if we could pay more attention to them, birds would have many answers for us about how and where we are going wrong as humans. Rachel Carson’s research revealed how eagles and falcons were being pushed to the brink of extinction as a result of pesticide use; yet decades later, pesticides continue to be responsible for problems in human health and the environment.

I suppose that’s what my postcards, which recollect true stories, are about. They convey the hubris of our species and our failure to listen to one of nature’s most vocal harbingers. My first postcard tells a story of 100 tropical canaries left to freeze in in the cold on inauguration day. I think the symbolism is profound. I’d like to keep doing tragic bird stories as long as I can find them. As for the interactive element, I’m fond of how the reader/viewer is in charge of turning the wheel – it’s as if the card asks each recipient to acknowledge his or her part in the unfolding of the story.

Hannah Barnes, Fragments, 2008

JR: Artists that submit work that varies radically from their normal practice intrigue me. As an abstract painter and drawer you are producing postcards that are straightforward representations inspired by early 20th century drawing and typology. Is this departure a reprieve from your traditional method of working or do you feel it coincides with previous work but seen through a different medium?

HB: I love working with abstraction, but my main artistic practice is fairly disciplined, formal, and not at all narrative. It’s really fun to have an outlet for other ideas that don’t make it into my primary work, such as nature and storytelling. There are, however, one or two crossovers. For example, I’ve always had a love for the decorative, the ornate, and the handmade, and ornament and pattern have been frequent themes in my abstract paintings and drawings. In the past, I’ve created a couple pieces that have taken inspiration from sources such as Victorian cut paper crafts and traditional Shaker gift drawings. It’s a natural impulse to incorporate these qualities as design elements in the postcards.

As for the ‘vintage’ typography and style of imagery, this comes from my interest in antique postcards. The antique malls that litter the Midwest are teeming with boxes of vintage and antique cards, and it’s fascinating to sift through them. My favorite finds are the overly ornate specimens – often embossed, gilded, hand colored, and embellished with decorative frames and flourishes. I also love finding used cards with personal notes and addresses on the backs – relics of a time when fine penmanship was prized and correspondence was all about etiquette and style.

Shaker Gift Drawing (Image provided by Hannah Barnes)

JR: You have revealed that all of your postcards will feature interactive components. Any hints for what is on the horizon?

HB: In the future, I’d like to rely a bit less on text and more on the forms, pictures, and the movements of the card itself to tell my stories. I ran into some technical challenges with the last postcard I created; it prompted me to brush up on my craftsmanship and do more investigation into traditional paper-crafting techniques. I hope to feature some more elaborate cuts and pop-up elements in future cards, while keeping simplicity of design so that each card can still be cut and assembled by hand.

Hannah Barnes, Gift Series, 2008

Daniel Marchand on the Cinematic Perspective, -32 Degrees & Involuntary Sculptures

Daniel Marchand is one of the of the Postcard Collective’s most ardent participants. His images exude a sense of calm in a harsh climate and beauty in destruction (whether it is natural or human made). He walks through the countryside and the cities, elevating the commonplace and shedding new light on what is easily overlooked. This fall, I quizzed Daniel on his extensive number of submissions and here is some insight to his creative process.

Jacinda Russell: So much of your work indicates walking and taking note of your surroundings. Sometimes I think you are a street photographer and other times, you photograph in the manner of Lee Friedlander (specifically his relationship to the landscape). Who are your influences?

Daniel Marchand: I have always been an avid walker. As a child, I walked to school every day, regardless of the weather, even during the most severe of snowstorms. When I visit new places, I walk to discover them. When I first visited Beirut just after the civil war in 1994, I walked back to my hotel (a one hour walk) after dinner at around midnight to get a better feel of the city. This may have been crazy, but I still have memories of what I saw then. So I guess walking has made me more aware of my environment and has in some way influenced how I see and by extension how I photograph. 

I could not however single out one photographer who would have had a marking influence on me. When I see a landscape, I cannot but think of Ansel Adams for the skies, but I am also very much drawn to the work of Ed Burtynsky. My landscape work is probably a mix of both styles.

Many viewers of my work have pointed out to me that there is a definite cinematic influence. This could be explained by the fact that I was attracted to cinema at a very young age. My first attempt at conceiving a scenario and starting to shoot at 18 was never completed when a close friend who was portraying the main character died in a tragic accident.

JR: Two dominant themes of your postcards are the weather and the large scale. I immediately relate the references to winter to your location in Ottawa and seldom do you send the standard 4” x 6” image. I would love to hear your thoughts behind both of these observations.

DM: Living in Ottawa, the second coldest capital in the world after Ulan Bator, we have to deal with some severe climate, particularly in the winter. I refuse to be stopped by this and "hibernate". I would rather take advantage of what nature has to offer and make the best of it.  Doing so allows me get the image that nobody else has. An example of this is the postcard I sent for the Winter 2012 exchange. The actual temperature was minus 20C with a windchill factor that made it feel like minus 32F. Did that stop me? I grabbed the 4X5 and my digital camera and drove to the outskirt of town, at a local marina to see what was happening over the frozen river. The wind was blowing even more fiercely, lifting a cloud of fresh snow over the river. I spotted the bench, but thought twice about setting up the field camera in these conditions. I tool the shot anyway. It has become one of my favourite shots which I had framed 24X36 for my home office as a reminder. 

[image credit: Daniel Marchand]

I must admit that I never liked the 2:3 ratio very much. I prefer a 4:5 or 6:7 ratio in my photos and, if I shoot digital or 35mm, will often frame the shot in a way that I can crop the edges to give me the ratio I want. Because my landscapes often show large spaces, I like to print them large. I have noticed that it also has an influence on the size of my postcards. I normally print the cards on 17X22 or 24X30 paper and try to maximize the use of the surface I have to play with. 

JR: I am curious about your relationship to titles and the text found on back of the postcards. Your photographs are untitled on your website, yet there is always a description or a quote on the postcards. Sometimes it is personal story and in others, you provide a hint as to the location or time of year. Never do you reveal too much information. 

DM: I always struggle with titles. I take the photograph for what it is and hope that it will also mean something to the viewers. It may mean something totally different to them but that does not bother me. I often find titles artificial and a forced interpretation. I would rather leave the image untitled. But, if I must provide a title, I will come up with one that describes what I see on the printed version of the photograph, and this may be totally different from the original intention when I took the image. It is intentionally that I reveal little, I would rather let the viewers make up their own scenarios.

JR: One of my favorite cards is the story of the “’involuntary sculpture’ left on a city street by a construction worker” which depicts spray painted stone piled into a plastic box placed on top of wood. It is the only image that shows manipulated subject matter but not by you. It is a portrait of an unseen person yet your goal is to provide recognition. Since you gave the creator of this sculpture a “face”, I am curious if you know what became of the object? I love the temporality in the placement of materials that will not break down easily versus a paper postcard that will fade and fall apart, yet the image lives on far longer than the sculpture.

DM: I had just seen a review of Richard Wentworth's work who manipulates industrial and/or found objects into works of art. When I saw this box containing a perfectly cut part of the restaurant patio, I immediately saw that Wentworth could have easily created it. I wanted to give some recognition to the "invisible" and unknowing artist who had done this. I have returned to the location. The original patio has since been replaced by a access ramp for the business. The artist has vanished, but the postcard remains.

JR: Your bio website states that you worked for the Canadian Foreign Service and travelled all over the world. Does this affect the work you create for the Postcard Collective and if so, how?

DM: I worked for the Canadian Foreign Service for 32 years. Aside from serving at headquarters in Ottawa, I had assignments in London, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, West Africa and Beirut. It would be difficult for me to say how this accumulated experience had a direct impact on what I create for the Postcard Collective, but I am sure that it has opened my mind to see differently and appreciate different things.

JR: On the Postcard Collective blog, I am trying to feature some of my favorite pieces of mail art (or at least those that reference objects sent in the mail). I am curious what holds other people's interest. That said, do you have a favorite mail artist?

DM: I had not exchanged art by mail until I joined the Postcard Collective. I was hooked from the start. I look forward to seeing what the next exchange will bring and appreciate the variety of cards and objects that come through the mail.  Although I have not thought about who among the participants would be my preferred artist, I must say that I always look for James "Hope all's well and swell" Luckett's card as much for the written words as for the visual elements. James has a way to grab my attention that is different from the other participants in the Collective.  

Maura Jasper's "Wish You Were Here"

From Maura's website:

"Postcards of Muncie, Indiana landmarks dating between 1910-1930 are composited with the same landmarks as they exist (or not) today. Wish You Were Here addresses changes in the cultural and economic landscapes of Muncie, Indiana over the past 80 years. At the turn of the 20th century, Muncie was a thriving industrial city due in part to the Indiana Gas Boom years earlier which had attracted numerous businesses to the area. With the decline of manufacturing Muncie (like many cities in the Midwest) has seen a decline in jobs and population, leaving behind a landscape of empty downtown streets crumbling homes. Remarkably, it retains a strong sense of civic pride as the city struggles to reinvent itself. This is an excerpt featuring seven locations from this ongoing project."

Wish You Were Here (2012) from Maura Jasper on Vimeo.

My favorite part of Maura's composites is the ghostly in-between; suddenly a child appears from 2012 just as older family fades away on the same porch. Wish You Were Here  describes so many dilapidated towns in the Rust Belt that it shocks me when the present day view depicts a scene more positive than the original.

The Postcard as Participation Art

Over the last two years, a number of Postcard Collective submissions have requested the receiver’s participation. I often wonder how many people respond, guessing the answer is not many, then feeling guilty if I do not complete the task presented. After talking to a number of people who adamantly do not reply (for lack of time or interest), I decided to take a closer look at a handful of postcards sent that were compelling enough to “answer” and others that were more difficult. This is by no means a survey of all the Participation Art requests mailed since I’ve been involved with the Collective, merely a handful that I would deem a success or failure in generating a reply from me.

Chris Toalson, Fall 2011:

This was a daunting task as there were a great many prompts to consider, many forcing me into the community that I stay away from. I was up for the challenge as I was most interested in what Chris would make in return. In the end, it was time consuming as it required research, taking several months to complete (see my response here). The rewards were high as the object Chris presented was worth every minute I spent working toward its completion.

Anh-Thuy Nguyen, Winter 2013:

The easiest way for me to participate is to send a half finished object (or in this case a partially processed cyanotype) with the simplest request (add water and rinse). The anal retentive me couldn’t have it sitting around the house, gradually growing darker. Within a couple weeks of watching it change, I suddenly couldn’t stand it and documented the final rinse, emailing the results to Anh-Thuy.

Cat Lynch & Maria Daniela Quirós, Summer 2013:

There are a couple circumstances when the artist places too much care into the concept and presentation that ignoring it, would be a disservice to both the creator and the object itself.

When Cat Lynch mailed a sewn card with a “sacrificial sample” of earth from the coordinates: 39 N 59’ 40.38” and it included a self-addressed stamped postcard, I immediately marveled how she got away with sending this at the 33 cent rate. That thought passed quickly and visions of earth I would send in return quickly took its place. It didn’t hurt that I love playing in the dirt (routinely burying objects) or collecting nonscientific samples of water, rocks, or sand all for the sake of art. I don’t know if Cat has any plans for the specimen she receives but judging from her past work, I can only imagine that she has.

I nearly dropped the card Maria Daniela Quirós made as it was unexpected and an ingenious way of exploring the theme of “exchange.” Her presentation was spot on and if I hesitated in replying, it was due to emailing a photograph inferior to her original. [My response, not shown here, was nowhere near as clever, but it was heartfelt and I hope that counts for something.]

Jeremy Jams, Winter 2013

Jeremy’s card was more difficult for me to complete yet the request was straightforward: “This is a piece of wallpaper. Take a picture with someone or something in front of it. Send me your photo via email or text and I’ll add it to my blog.”

I carried this card around with me on several trips, never once finding anything to photograph. I didn’t want to take a portrait with the postcard and I knew it had to be an object. Finally one day, I broke down and decided to photograph it NO MATTER WHAT and placed it behind a broken music box in the studio. I hated the photograph because the two objects have little in common. I propped the wallpaper up behind it and it meant nothing. Last week, I forced myself to photograph it again, operating on the theme of “meta.” The pen in front of the card is the one used to take notes on why I couldn’t properly complete the task he requested an answer from seven months ago. Jeremy’s card was a prime case in me over thinking every aspect of my reply and ultimately not liking the end product.

Angelina McCormick, Summer 2013

Angelina offered a “small piece of silver” asking the recipient to bring it to Times Square on July 29, 2025 and make art with it. Several thoughts accompanied this card: What if I remember this and showed up? Would she be there? What would she look like? What part of Times Square? What if I lose the card and there is no silver to make art from? What is the significance of 29th July 2025?

This request is problematic for several reasons aside from the date being twelve years in the future with very little information provided as a follow-up. What she asks is sincere but unrealistic; it is difficult for me to immerse myself in the card from any other angle. Of course, I am reading this most literally and should step back and look at it from a poetic standpoint. Incidentally, all of this has prevented me from opening the front to look at the “silver” for nearly a month since I received it. This is a prime case of me wanting more from the card than what is provided.

Would I ever ask someone to participate in a Postcard Collective submission? Most likely not. I would be disappointed in the outcome as I imagine very few people would respond. In any case, I am curious to hear from anyone else about their experiences with Participation Art within the Postcard Collective and whether or not it produced a meaningful outcome.

Janfamily (Chosil Jan Kil), "How to Take the Long Way Around"

January, London

“One afternoon, I was on the way home in the bus no. 49. I noticed a postcard on the floor and I realized that Ben, the sender, lost it before he sent it to his friend, Carl who lives in Nottingham, somewhere in England. I decided to surprise Carl and brought it back to Korea with me in that winter. I posted it with a Korean stamp beside the British stamp. I enjoyed imagining Carl wondering where this postcard has been traveling.”