Inspirations: Mikki Ferrill
Have you ever had a moment when you saw a photograph that didn’t just freeze a moment, but made you freeze? That’s what happened the first time I saw this image, titled “Slim, Dancing, Low Down.” It was probably the first piece that I ever saw by Chicago-based Photographer, Mikki Ferrill. At the time, I was visiting the Art Institute of Chicago, where she is revered as one of their illustrious alums.
I was immediately drawn to this image because I have a personal fascination with dancing and dancers. In a past life, I was avidly involved in Blues Idiom Dances. There’s a deeply emotional connection that’s at the root of the Blues music and the dances it inspired.
More than likely, Slim is dancing to Jazz music in this photograph, but the image feels to me, like a representation of that raw emotional energy that I grew to love when I went dancing. The first thing you realize when looking at this image is that Slim is a tall, broad-shouldered man, who moves with incredible virtuosity. His position, with knees bent, wide stance with ankles almost touching the ground, and swinging arms too fast too catch, is simultaneously difficult and unbalanced. But his toothy grin seems to say “I make this look easy.” You can immediately feel that something electric is happening in that room. This is seemingly confirmed by the disembodied hands clapping in the right hand side of the frame.
The majority of Ferrill’s work depicts Black American life in Chicago. In it, you’ll find moments of joy and intimacy unencumbered by the tumultuous times that surrounded them. This is best exemplified in what is arguably her most famous collection, “The Garage.” The work is an exploration of life in the Southside Chicago nightclub spanning a decade between the 70’s and 80’s. The juxtaposition of motion and stillness evident in many of those images is something that I try to be mindful of when I photograph dancers.
There’s so much that I would love to know about Mikki Ferrill, her creative process, and her life. Many of Ferrill’s images went unnamed. You’d be hard-pressed to find a photograph of her online (except this one). Perhaps my favorite thing about this photograph is that it also depicts a shadow that is likely Ferrill’s. In that way it depicts two giants: One etched in light, one marked by its absence.
For more on Mikki Ferrill, please visit any of her exhibits at The Art Institute of Chicago (or really just visit Chicago).
