Portrait of Alice Fall

Alice Fall is an artist living and working between Oklahoma and Upstate New York. She graduated from Bard College in May of 2022 with a B.A. in Photography. She engages with themes of intimacy, absence, memory, family, sexuality, and the impermanence and transformation of these forces. Growing up in Oklahoma led to a questioning of identity and visibility in a place where nonacceptance and acceptance coexist and overlap. Her work is guided by the perpetual tension between identity and place, and by the shedding that is necessary for growth and renewal.

Follow Alice Fall on Instagram: @aliceflanneryfall

©Alice Fall, Bathroom

I Went Back to Sit in the Sun

The camera perceives things before I can. An image arises from a fleeting encounter of past and present. It performs a deceptive dance with the intangible. I trace the same images over and over to remember their shape.

The sun sweeps across the dead garden and heats the inside air like a greenhouse. The temperature is sweltering; it laps at my skin like warm water. My shoulders begin to burn but I still choose to sit in the sun. I open a window. The room begins to feel familiar; I close my eyes and hum a little. The space between me and the world echoes. Winter air leaks in through cracks around the windows, and I begin to notice pockets of one state inside another: invisibility within visibility, nonacceptance within acceptance, repulsion within attraction, separation within connectedness. Constriction pulses through the space, and these states begin to leak. The core of them, the delicate beauty of them, begins to rot. The interior expands outward, meeting edges and merging. My palms open fully and a momentary formlessness emerges, breaking through the confines and rigidity of order. Renewed and forever renewing; shapeless but in search of new shape.

The sun sets early. Emptiness moves in and saturates the space slowly. The remaining heat lingers and burns out. A low hum radiates from the yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling. It’s the only light on in the house. I move quietly from this room to the next, following voices that become more familiar as I approach. The space around me remains alive and my response changes every moment. 

I look through the lens and see my family. All of our identities are filtered and reflected back to me in an endless feedback loop. The complexities of their strength, love, and self-possession are gifts presented to me through their eyes, through the way they drape their arms around each other, and through their emotions and fleeting reactions. The layers are illusive; they overlap and compound in a transformation that embodies multiple realities before becoming something else entirely. 

©Alice Fall, Claires Snake

Could you say just a little about where you grew up, where these images were made, and when you started making them? Is the project ongoing?

I moved from Los Angeles to Oklahoma City when I was 8 years old, and I was greatly influenced by my middle and high school years in Oklahoma. These are two entirely different places, and so this transition marked one of my first experiences where I had to redefine my sense of self and place when the familiar was uprooted. The majority of the work in I Went Back to Sit in the Sun was made in Oklahoma, in and around the house where my mom and sister are currently living. The process of making these images began in the fall of 2021 alongside larger class critiques and individual advisory meetings. While the work I showed in May represents a culmination of this past year, I see this project as one that is still very much a work in progress. This summer, I’ve been able to step back from the rigidity of school and critiques, but continue to make work guided by my thesis and final show.

©Alice Fall, Festering

What prompted you to think in terms of seasons—sweltering temps, winter air leaking—and of sunlight, of moving into it? Two different locations equal different states of being, or . . . ?

The writers/ artists / poets who are most influential to me are those who are able to use language and imagery so vividly that they elicit a physical response in my body. The use of temperatures helps me evoke a similar sensation and allows me to enter the images with feeling at the forefront of my headspace. When I am in tune with my body and emotion and the way I physically react to an image– whether I am making work or engaging with images I’ve already made– my vision is sharpest. When I say “the camera perceives things before I can”, I’m talking about the connection between my body/vision and mind. There’s a rush in my body that tells me to make a picture. After that initial reaction I let my mind step in to help me navigate the formal construction of the image.

When I was a child, I was able to count all of my summers on my hands. As I get older, the categorization and compartmentalization of sections of my life and their associations begin to blur and overlap in a disorienting way. I think a lot of this comes back to aging and the tension between witnessing myself and my family age alongside overpowering memories of past selves. My experience of queer identity and visibility in Oklahoma ties into this disorientation of time and place. Everything and everyone is at odds with themselves; I am at odds with myself. Nonacceptance and acceptance overlap and queer identity is at odds with family, place, and belonging.

©Alice Fall, Laundry at 47

Who are the other “characters” in the series? When you appear are these self-portraits or do you think about yourself as other, as a character?

My sister, Meg, is one of the most important characters in this series and in my life. Photographing her is both an exploration of her character and an indirect exploration of myself. I am able to see myself at 15, exploring how our identities mirror each other and how many of our experiences are entwined and interdependent. When we’re making pictures together, she becomes a character that knows something that I don’t know. I love never quite knowing what direction she will point me in next.

©Alice Fall, Liz’s Last Hunt

©Alice Fall, Lola Suspended

What brought you to photography?

Years ago, my brother made a black and white print of a lake that we hung in the kitchen. I didn’t understand how so much movement, vastness, and emotion could be conveyed through a still image. He’s one of the reasons I began my awareness and exploration of the world through photography. I’ve played around with different forms of portraiture since high school, but I was not exposed to photography as art until I arrived at Bard. Bard provided community, resources, and the space to be vulnerable and develop a voice.

©Alice Fall, Lyra Dancing

©Alice Fall, Meg and Mom

What kind of camera/film are you using?

For this project I was using a Mamiya 7/Ilford 120 film and a Nikon D850. Now that I’m out of school I’m using a Sony A7ii and my granddad’s old Nikon F.

©Alice Fall, Meg Glaring

©Alice Fall, Our Last January

©Alice Fall, Ragland Ranch

©Alice Fall, Shedding

©Alixe Fall, The Moon According to Peyton

©Alice Fall, Watching Everyone Dance

©Alice Fall, Watching Me

©Alice Fall, Wishes