Alex Rooted - Salt Spring Island Willow Basket Weaver
Alex Rooted is a ground-level portrait sitting with willow basket weaver Alex Harris, a longtime friend and collaborator, made on a slow visit with my son Flynn.
Alex Rooted is a portrait sitting with willow basket weaver Alex Harris, a longtime friend and collaborator, photographed close to the ground on a slow, unhurried visit. It is a quiet look at her hands, her materials, and the patient work of someone who makes things worth keeping.
Alex Rooted is exactly what the name promises: a portrait sitting held close to the ground, made with Alex Harris, a friend and longtime collaborator, on a slow visit that happened to fall on one of our semi-regular days with my son Flynn. Alex is a willow basket weaver, and this was a chance to bring the camera along and photograph her hands, her materials, and the quiet work of someone who makes things that last.
Who is Alex Harris?
Alex Harris is a maker who works with willow, weaving baskets by hand the slow way. We have been friends for a good while, and over the years that friendship has spilled into work: films that took us to a lot of places, including New York, where we made a series of short pieces about urban farmers. You can see more of her weaving on her own site, Alex Rooted. What drew me to photograph her was the same thing that draws me to the tintype process: an honest respect for the material in front of you, and the patience to let it take the time it needs.
Why photograph a willow basket weaver?
A willow basket weaver is a gift for a camera. The rods are stripped and soaked, then bent and pinned by hand, and the whole thing carries the marks of the person making it. There is texture everywhere: the split of the willow, the grain of the ground, the light coming in low and sideways. I wanted the frames to sit close to the earth, the way the work itself does, so much of the sitting happened kneeling and crouched, camera near the soil. If you are curious about how I approach this kind of unhurried, honest picture, our photography work follows the same grain.
A sitting held close to the ground
This was not a polished studio shoot. It was a visit, first and foremost, with Flynn along and the day unfolding at its own pace. That is part of why it was special. The best moments arrived between the setups: a hand smoothing a rod, a pause to look up, the ordinary rhythm of someone doing what they love. Bringing the camera to a day like that is my favourite kind of work, and it is the same instinct behind the hand-poured tintype work we make at the studio, where the slowness is the point.
Craft that recognises craft
Weaving willow and pouring silver are not so far apart. Both reward attention, both ask you to work with a material on its own terms, and both leave something you can hold years from now. Photographing Alex felt like two people who work slowly for a living meeting in the middle. You can read more about how we think about this at the studio, or browse other pieces like it in the journal.
The best frames were never the ones I set up. They were the ones that happened while she was simply working, and I was quiet enough to notice.
— Sydney, Folklore Creative
How did you and Alex first start working together? +
We have been friends for a good while, and that friendship grew into collaboration. Over the years we made films together in a number of places, including a series of short pieces about urban farmers that took us to New York.
Was anyone else along for the sitting? +
Yes. It fell on one of our semi-regular days with my son Flynn, who came along, which is part of what made the day feel unhurried and personal rather than like a formal shoot.
