Interview with Phillip Gutman: Invasion of the Pines
Ice Palace Queen with Purple Feathers, 2017
Phillip Gutman Invasion of the Pines
June 6 – July 12, 2024
Daniel Cooney Fine Art
508 West 26 Street, 9C
New York, NY 10001
Interview conducted by Trip Avis
Queer history and identity are key facets of your photographic oeuvre. When did you get your start in the medium, and how did you begin documenting queer spaces?
PG: I chose the photographic medium at a young age, like 10 or 11. By the time I was 17, I was enrolled in school in New York. I think your first glance at the world through your medium is often the most honest, and for me, it was my world of peers and mentors that really captured my attention. I wanted to preserve the world around me: Amanda Lepore at home in her apartment, Dirty Martini dancing on a smoky club stage, Jack Doroshow (Mother Flawless Sabrina) at his desk bestowing knowledge to me. It’s that honest and deeply empathetic eye that guides me to this day. Whether intentionally through how I do my work or how long I spend looking at a subject, I feel like I slow down time to hold on to a very specific moment.
Ice Palace Queen with Blue Feathers, 2017
When photographing the “Invasion of the Pines,” you capture both group shots of the queens and singular portraits; the portraits are often intimate and immediate in their composition, capturing an individualistic flair. What is your artistic intention when taking someone’s portrait?
PG: I have this almost overwhelming desire to capture not just the essence of a person when I do work about a ritual but also the whole context that accompanies the ritual. I look for all the moments: little pieces of the story can be just as important as the penultimate moments. When taking a portrait, I generally rely on instinct more than any specific approach. I shoot analog and not many rolls or sheets, so what you see is generally what there is, depending on the circumstances. With the Invasion, it was a pretty fast-paced environment, so I really was slowing everything down to a single moment or a few moments.
Sementha on the Ice Palace Deck, 2017
What first attracted you to the Invasion as a photographic project?
PG: I grew up going upstate to the Catskills every summer till I was about 14. I didn’t really realize how important that experience was to me until I got a little older. My grandparents and everyone I spent time with at the bungalow colony in the Catskills were Holocaust survivors. Those generous and caring individuals had so much joy in their hearts. They loved, they danced, they played cards. It was that congregating in the summer together in a place that, whether subconsciously or not, really seeps out of the Invasion work. That ritualistic joy. When I document the Invasion, I look for many of those moments, moments where you experience the intergenerational exchange of human experience. The little moments where you understand that the performance and ritual of the Invasion of the Pines is about these special humans occupying space together in a place the same way they have for nearly 50 years.
Ice Palace Queen with Birds, 2017
Considering the historical and cultural significance of the Invasion to the Fire Island and queer communities, how does that influence your perspective and experience when shooting the event?
PG: I don’t think I can really frame my work through its potential historical relevance. Time and culture tend to have a way with art as evidence of legacy and history. I will say that I firmly believe the place to find your calling is in your own life and experiences. The most important stories to tell are the ones that are a part of the life you build for yourself.
Without fail, your photos brim with personality and personal and communal pride; is this something you try to draw out of your subjects, or is it effortless?
PG: I take so much pride in people and want to support the people in my work by recognizing them. Part of how I choose a subject to photograph is recognizing a moment versus infringing on a moment. I have always approached my subjects by asking them to photograph them, giving them the opportunity to consent to being photographed by me in a portrait context. Once you establish that connection with someone, there is trust, and from there, it’s my opportunity to present the person I am looking at in the light I see them, which is mostly a heroic light.
Tina Burner on the Ice Palace Deck, 2017
Your photographs toggle between dazzling color and black-and-white; what influences your decision regarding this composition?
PG: Time. In my work, black-and-white slows everything down so that the photograph can make you believe it is from a different era. It allows you to distill action and take away distractions. On the other hand, I love to use color to show modernity or make an image more factual. In the Invasion work, I tend to use color to juxtapose modernity with some of the content that can feel more timeless. Color does feel closer in terms of time.
It has been 48 years since the first Invasion in 1976—do you have any big plans for documenting the 50th anniversary?
PG: I wouldn’t say that my plans are big, but I do plan to follow this story through—50 with my friend Thom Hansen, Panzi, without whom there wouldn’t be an Invasion. I think one thing always leads to another, and I really do look forward to telling more of this story.
Annida Greenkard with Camera and Flip Flops, 2018
More here: Daniel Cooney Fine Art
