c. g. duckworth

Writer, videographer, photographer. Yale 2014. Project list and bylines here.

guernicamag:

No, you’re not dreaming— we’re making the leap into print! Here’s the first look at the cover of the Guernica Annual, which will be printing a limited edition this fall. To get your very own copy and to help us go analog, visit our Kickstarter. We’ve got a week to go, and not only do we do this for you, our readers and supporters— we couldn’t do it without you!

Go support the lovely people who produce some of the web’s best writing. Sincerely, an ex-intern.

guernicamag:

No, you’re not dreaming— we’re making the leap into print! Here’s the first look at the cover of the Guernica Annual, which will be printing a limited edition this fall. To get your very own copy and to help us go analog, visit our Kickstarter. We’ve got a week to go, and not only do we do this for you, our readers and supporters— we couldn’t do it without you!

Go support the lovely people who produce some of the web’s best writing. Sincerely, an ex-intern.

Mr. Raines: an exercise in classical scene composition

a project for Yale Summer Film Institute and FAMU International shot on a Cannon 7D.

the randomly assigned constraints were:

afternoon, co-workers, and suspicion

the randomly assigned team was:

Director: Ray Xiong
DOP: Courtney Duckworth
Editor: Caroline Carrn
Sound: Charlotte McCurdy

featuring: Scott Limbacher and Charlotte McCurdy

Artist’s Statement, Final Critique Project:

Each semester I forget my body: not merely to tend it properly, but that it even exists.  This goes beyond missed showers and meals, beyond forgetting for days to shift the clothes from sofa to respective drawers, beyond neglecting the gentleness of face creams and soaps and how they can rebirth a person, beyond biting my fingernails down to their original matter until nothing is left but to tear the skin at the borders.  Last year I tore a hidden hole in my stomach.  Though I have a photo of that hole, taken with a camera attached to a tube sent down my throat, it is not here.  Instead I present photos of bodies that are precious to me, whose details I often forget just as I forget my own, and some of which I had previously never laid eyes upon.  I tried to exhibit them with frank vulnerability, something often hidden at a university where performance is especially encouraged.  The work does not attempt to show the enactment of this self-discipline upon the body, but rather to depict bodies that are tender, supple, ever transforming, and more than meets the eye.  In an environment that seeks to devalue these bodies by tacitly silencing a multiplicity of representation, I wanted to at least show those dear to me in a way that causes the viewer to slow down and take note, transforming the overlooked into the looked over.  A hand seen everyday may become a river system; an unnoticed scar is made central and imposing; feet are given stage lighting beneath a desk and arch in a way reminiscent of a ballerina’s.  More than any lofty goals, the camera allows boundaries to be broken between photographer and subject, for the body to be traversed and worked over when it is often ignored and forgotten, for a brief collaboration to be established.  I hope these photos convey the strangeness and allure of the body and, through the relative isolation of part and owner, allow the viewer to extrapolate a more nuanced appreciation for the preciousness of the bodies around us:  bodies that need to learn to take care of themselves.