#jb blunk

Leslie Williamson is a photographer of interiors. We mean this literally – in books like Still Lives and Modern Originals she photographed the studios and homes of iconic artists, including some of our Northern California favorites – but also figuratively, because what is remarkable about Williamson is her ability to touch upon the life of a space, or as she calls it, the soul – the part that offers a glimpse of a person's inner world, even when that person is no longer part of this one. In speaking with her, and looking at the mysterious, quiet, strangely emotional places she has photographed, I kept thinking of Gaston Bachelard's maxim in The Poetics of Space: "all really inhabited space bears the essence of the notion of home." Flip through any one of her books, and you will see how such notions take shape.

Studio AHEAD: Let's start with your essay "Doc's Lab," published a few weeks ago in a recent WildSam guide, Big Sur & HW 1. Tell us about it and what draws you to this particular landmark in Monterey.

Leslie Williamson: It’s funny how that came about. I became a little enthralled with Ed Ricketts and his Pacific Biological Laboratories when I moved to Monterey in April 2020 (yes, a pandemic move…). I am sure it won’t surprise you to learn that when I am in a new place, I research “house museum” to find what is around me, and when I did this in Monterey, Pacific Biological Laboratories came up. I have never read any Steinbeck so I wasn’t familiar with Ricketts and his story, but with the quiet of the pandemic I soon became a fan. Ricketts is such an inspiring character! It’s no wonder he was Steinbeck’s best friend and muse.

Anyhow, I tried and tried to visit Pacific Biological Laboratories throughout the pandemic but it was always closed. Finally one day, as I was on a walk, the door was open and the nice docent let me in even though I didn’t have a reservation. Oh my goodness that space, it gave me goosebumps!!! It is just so special – steeped in history on a few different levels: early 20th-century Cannery Row and the PBL/Doc Ricketts era and through to the birthplace of the Monterey Jazz Festival and the men’s club that left it to the city of Monterey. Of course I photographed the space and my plan was to write an essay to accompany it that would go on the Still Lives Portal on my website. I have begun sharing my stories in real time there. Happily the WildSam project seamlessly dovetailed in unexpectedly. I am thrilled they wanted to publish my essay in their 50th WildSam guide. I hope people will read the essay while looking at the images. It will really bring it to life.

SA: While we're talking about places, I want to mention a photograph you took that I find so compelling: of JB Blunk's Moongate sculpture that leads to JB Blunk's house. We've been to the estate, and to get there you have to go deep into the woods of Inverness, along a windy road up a steep mountain far from everything, and there is a sense of the space caught unawares, as if no one is supposed to see it. I'm not really sure this is a question! But maybe you can speak about this feeling; it's very powerful.

LW: Thank you! It is a special place for sure. I experienced that same feeling on my first visit. Somehow my emotions come through in my images a lot of the time. I’m not sure I can say more than that. It has always been that way. 

SA: I love the home libraries of various Californian luminaries that you shot in Interior Portraits – partly because whenever I'm in someone's house for the first time I head straight to their bookshelf, and partly because they're incredible spaces. Ray Kappe's library, with its bright blue cushions and the bamboo forest outside, shows his relation to reading. What sort of objects "speak" to you as the kind that tell a story, and how do you photograph that object in way that helps it best tell its story?

LW: First off, can I just say I love libraries too…so much. There was a time when our bookshelves were a window to our mind, heart and soul. I just added a Bibliophilia section on my SL Portal that shares people's bookshelves. I always photograph them and they never make them into my books so I decided they needed a venue of their own.

As for other objects that speak to me, I never know what they are going to be. It is different for every person/space I am in. I generally just trust my gut. From Una Jeffer’s narwhal tusk, to Georgia O’Keeffe’s record collection, I seem to be able to sense where there are meaningful stories.

SA: What role does writing play in your photography, and vice versa?

LW: My writing is still a surprise to me. I see it as in service to my photography; but having said that, the "Doc’s Lab" story ran in WildSam with none of my photographs, so maybe that is evolving? When I wrote Handcrafted Modern, it was a bit of an unexpected turn of events that led me to writing the book, as well. But in hindsight, it was the magic combination of expression I didn’t know I was looking for. The photography always comes first and I let my curiosity run rampant as I shoot. Then, after I have edited the images, I hone in on the stories I want to share in the writing. That is the general scenario my process takes.

SA: Speaking of which, you've now published four books. Tell us a little bit about this process – whether you've a vague idea for each project... or how you build a narrative between each space photographed ... maybe a hint as to the next project you're working on…..

LW: The process of creating my books has evolved quite a bit since Handcrafted Modern. I began just because I wanted to see the spaces of my favorite architects and designers and this evolved into a plan to create a library of how creative people live in the 20th/21st centuries. And that is still happening, but I realized pretty quickly that the discernment of my choice of spaces to photograph is very specific. I am looking for what I call “soul spaces”: spaces that are still imbued with their inhabitant’s soul if they are no longer with us and an innate expression of the owner if they are still living there. There is always a certain je ne sais quoi that I am looking for. I know it when I see/feel it. But I am not sure there are words to describe it.

As for what’s next, I am looking to more shows in art galleries and museums. There is a particular project I am just diving into that will be in a major museum in a few years. I can’t say more. And of course there will be an accompanying book. Creating books is in my DNA.

SA: Finally, pretend you are not Leslie Williamson and that Leslie Williamson comes to one of the homes you've lived in – any of them from your whole life – to photograph it for Still Lives: The Sequel. What room would you want her to capture? What is in it?

LW: Oh wow…what a question! I am not sure any of my former or current homes would warrant being included in one of my books. But I do wish I could time travel back and photograph all of my former living spaces starting with my childhood home, where my father still lives, before we remodeled it in 1976. I can’t really remember it before that and am curious what it was like in its original state and how my parents had it set up, what objects they had, etc. I also wonder if there is an evolutionary through line of my own that would be evident in my own bedroom/homes throughout my life starting from my first bedroom. Like artists who make a portrait of themselves once a year, I wish I had a portrait of my living spaces for every year. I would be fascinated to see that, just for my own curiosity and self learning.

Photos by Leslie Williamson

Leslie Williamson’s home in Monterrey, CA.

“The Party Room” at Doc’s Lab on Cannery Row in Monterey. Originally the home of noted marine biologist and Steinbeck muse Ed Ricketts.

Detail in Ed Rickett's former home and business, Pacific Biological Laboratories, on Cannery Row. Monterey, CA.

JB Blunk’s ‘Moongate’ sculpture and his home in Inverness, CA. 

Detail of the living and loft area in JB Blunk’s home.

Artist and AIDS activist Derek Jarman’s library at Prospect Cottage, his home in Dungeness, UK.

The kitchen/greenhouse and a longe area in the home of artists Evan Shively and Madeleine Fitzpatrick. Marshall, CA.

Artist David Ireland’s sitting room in his home and masterwork, 500 Capp Street. San Francisco, CA.

JB Blunk