EcoZome Journal » Independent

Heavy Handed Women: Prologue

JenP — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 16:25:26 +0000

by Jen Pennington

Female empowerment comes in many forms, but it always comes with a strong sense of self. Over the years I have been lucky enough to know and work with some of strongest women I’ve ever met. Some are powerful business women, while others are in the business of using powerful tools in the workplace, and I’m not talking about PowerPoint presentations. No, these are women who have strayed from normal conventions and entered into metal fabrication, welding, blacksmithing and carpentry—all predominantly male-dominated industries. They are taking charge and teaching women of all ages to feel comfortable going into the trades and getting their hands dirty. As we know women often play an important role in history getting into this line of work.

Magnesium Maggies

Recently, while working on a historical society project in Henderson, Nevada our team came across “Magnesium Maggies,” a term coined by researcher, Irene Rostine. Sisters to the Rosie the Riveters of their generation, these women worked in the middle of the desert, at the Basic Magnesium Plant during the 40s making magnesium ingots. The ingots were then shipped to ammunition factories to aid in the war effort making bullets and bombs. Many worked as forklift operators, stackers and shippers. Did they feel a sense of empowerment or gain a sense of self-sufficiency that one gets from working with large machines and power tools? When their jobs ended and the plant closed, did their skills stay with them for the rest of their life? I wondered.

I thought about my mom. She was the same age as some of these women, but her path took her into a secretarial/bookkeeper career. She worked hard her whole life and was a force to be reckoned with in other ways against the male chauvinists of her time. Dad used to say, he was a feminist because of her. But she never really got into the idea of getting her hands dirty…at least on purpose. After my father died, I stayed with my mom for awhile. I realized she was totally unprepared to live on her own. I asked her one day to change the batteries in something and she said to me, “I don’t how to do that.” I said, “Didn’t you ever change the batteries in a flashlight?” She said, “No. Dad always took care of that.” I was shocked. How could I have not understood what it really meant to lose my Dad to my mom? She hadn’t just lost the love of her life, but the man who always took care of her so she wouldn’t have to worry about the “little things.” It was incomprehensible and chilling to me. This very independent, strong woman felt vulnerable. I realized her empty house was now a metaphor for another part of her of her life that was missing—hands-on self-sufficiency.

Learning along the way

Dad had taught me how to take care of my car, how to keep the lawnmowers running, and how to work with tools. He was self-taught, and not a mechanic or carpenter by any means, but he taught me what he could. In college at School of Visual Arts I studied sculpture and learned how to weld, use the shop, work in different mediums, cast bronze and aluminum and work with all kinds of tools. I worked as an artist’s assistant stretching canvases, and even worked for my cousin one summer doing construction on an art installation crew in New York City. Today, I am in the process of building my own house, from the foundation to the roof, working alongside my husband every step of the way. I am continually learning and determined to understand every inch of my house. Even if my mechanical skills are not all there, I will know where all the pipes are, where they go, how to shut off water and propane valves, cut power, run a chainsaw, and how to get a generator going.

Granted when you design or make objects and get them to look or function the way you want, you hone your troubleshooting skills and learn new ones in the process. Add one more layer to that. Be a woman in a man’s world of tools and procedures. Have someone say to you just once, “Oh honey, let me help you with that.” Or, “You don’t want to use that tool, it’s going to be too heavy for you.” Or, “Is this for your husband?” Oh the array of expletives in my head! Sometimes it’s not even what is said, but how it’s said. A condescending tone makes me crazy. Later as you learn more, you drop the aggressive pose you take when you are younger, and just move on.

This why I believe women of every age still need role models. In the next few weeks I’m excited to bring video profiles of some very self-sufficient, craftswomen to Ecozome. Women in non-traditional settings who are garnering a following of their own. From Jessi Combs, a professional welder and fabricator known for her roles on Overhaulin‘, Xtreme 4×4, and appearances on Mythbusters to Maria Cristalli, a well-respected blacksmith with a ten-year old apprentice, forging steel and fabricating work in her studio.

So ladies, roll-up your sleeves. It’s time to get some dirt under those fingernails.

Photo by Robert J. Pennington

A Different Picture of Sustainability

Jen — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 21:43:49 +0000

By Jen Pennington

What does it mean to be sustainable as an artist or photographer in an uncertain economy? Rare is the artistic occupation in life that leads to becoming the next Richard Avedon or Ansel Adams. Things have not changed much to alter the cliché of the struggling artist. But passion doesn’t write a check to pay the bills. The commercial and stock photography world is highly competitive, and to compete you need more than talent. You need to wear the hat of a savvy business person, the scarf of digital asset management, the gloves of a brand strategist, the boots of an educator and a coat of commitment to one’s core values. Once you’ve put on this oversized built-for-the-Arctic-wardrobe that you can barely breathe in, you can begin to slowly make your way out the door into the overheated, globally warmed world.

In today’s climate, artists and photographers must find new ways to be competitive without compromising their craft and still be able to breathe. The ability to control the course of content, and provide the alternative benefit of image differentiation comes with a small impact on the earth and a bigger impact on individual bottom lines.

Enter the boutique stock agency model. The ability today for independent, pro photographers to customize online portfolio and merchant solutions is just the boost smaller agencies need. Each photographer has a style or niche, and each one can attract a following like a fine clothing line designer. The ability to create an uber-showroom beyond traditional online portfolios, shows a breadth of work and allows customers direct access to photographers for custom work. A great website model not only builds an online legacy of work, it can begin to build that photographer’s retirement legacy as well. It is a two-pronged approach to creating revenue.


The way my husband, Bob Pennington, Photographer and Principal of Rhizome Images, explains it, “We consider ourselves a boutique with a really high standard, and we will never be about competing with giants like Getty or Corbis, because that is just not realistic. You begin by working with clients you know and you spend a lot time educating them about how images can differentiate them from their competitors. You don’t just need to know your business, you need to know something about their business. You need to show them that big box stock photography can short sell an emotion or product that would be better served through a custom shoot or a style that is more akin to their brand. Sometimes they buy stock and sometimes they call you back months later to do a custom shoot. You can even strike a deal with a client who has a limited budget and is not concerned with exclusivity, to shoot something specific and then add it to your collection for possible future use.”
The benefit this model brings to photography as an industry is control of content, artistic value and monetary compensation and puts it in the hands and pockets of the artist. This is also good for the client. It allows direct access to, and flexibility for the artist to negotiate the sale of an image. Because the compensation for the artist is higher, the client can work a deal and the artist can still feel covered. Great imagery no matter where it comes from helps introduce the emotive feel for new brands or campaigns to make lasting impressions. When marketeers look outside the big box stock houses and knock on smaller doors they can find new gems inside. That’s not only good for businesses looking to differentiate themselves, but good for the sustainability of the industry and the artist as well.
The standard big stock photography submission model is getting old for some photographers. You submit images, hope to have some accepted and someone else takes care of the marketing and advertising of your images. You then use their big engine to push your images into the marketplace. But the bigger the engine, the more fuel it consumes. It’s hungry for more pictures and now your images compete against thousands of resources within the same agency. It uses a tremendous amount of energy just to stay visible in the marketplace. The more fuel it consumes, the bigger the dollar cut taken from the artist, and the more the artist complains.
Conversely, the problem now is that people look completely in the other direction towards microstock. Smaller agencies that sell subscriptions or images at greatly reduced rates. The pool of talent is widely varied. This is the place where you find the serious photographers groaning against having to compete indirectly with amateurs who sell their work for so little value. The model is to sell more of the same image, but inevitably all it does is flood the marketplace with the same image and devalue the work of photography as a whole. It creates a mindset of marketeers who will only look for cheap images. This might be more akin to buying cheap, incandescent lightbulbs. It will work as a light, but it won’t last and is considered disposable. A virtual landfill of discarded images.
The misconception is that because we are smaller we must be cheaper. Well guess what, just like organic food, you might pay the same or a little more because what you’re really after is something different, of high quality, and fresh taste. The boutique model however is not for everyone. It is an ongoing process. It takes both of us to run Rhizome Images. Bob shoots the pictures, does all the post-production, and takes the first stab at entering all the keywords and captions. He then posts all the images for me to review. I add, edit or correct the keywords. As a designer, I view the imagery from a different perspective and look at images with an editorial eye before it is posted live to the website. I then do a lot web surfing and look for unique ways to promote the work online, in print, and in person with clients and associates.
While photographers want to reach a new audience any way they can, they need to be ready to look in places they would never think of looking. Some photographers want to attract the biggest Art Directors and Designers to their site, that’s fine, but they need to look outside the industry as well. If you specialize in photos of decoy ducks, try putting an ad in “Outdoors” or “Field and Stream.” Or use social networking sites like Linked in or Facebook to promote your wares. The goal is to look for an opening, and find yourself in a place where the competition is not as obvious. Marketing is indeed the hardest part for many photographers, but the one thing they have going for them? A picture is always worth a 1000 words.
Find these images and more on: www.rhizomeimages.com