Keith Carter has an intense intellectual curiosity and boundless enthusiasm. His knowledge of mythology, religion, literature, and poetry deeply inform his imagery, as does his wealth of knowledge of overlooked nooks and crannies in the history of photography. It is impossible to spend any amount of time around Keith and not look at the world around you in a fresh way. This enthusiasm for life and photography comes through in each and every image in his new book “A Certain Alchemy.”

“There is an element of magic in photography – light, chemistry, precious metals – a certain alchemy. You can wield a camera almost like a magic wand. Murmur the right words and you can conjure up proof of a dream.” – Keith Carter

Keith is a master of “conjuring up proof of a dream” his most recent images are certainly evidence of that. Beginning with the cover image, “Levitation, 2001” bringing to mind every child’s dreams of flying, rising above it all. “Dawn, 2005” with the central figure dark against the background of European buildings while pigeons blur in the middle ground – brings to mind a kinder gentler “Birds.” While “Fallen Giant, 2005” evokes the wonder and curiosity of being a small child, while simultaneously resembling something snatched from a sci-fi movie.

 As demonstrated by his image “Fireflies, 1992”, Keith can also conjure up nostalgia – arguably another form of dream. “Radio Flyer, 2000”, best represents this in his recent work. This image of a child pulling a wagon looking up at the tail of an old airplane reminds me of a time long forgotten, yet as fresh as a moment ago. I think Bill Wittliff puts it very well in his introductory essay – “It’s not that these pictures are telling you things you didn’t already know, but rather that – like ‘Fireflies’ – they’re reminding you of things you’ve deep down always know but somehow forgotten …”

 These evocative images which we have come to associate with Keith’s vision are book ended by two new and different series – In the front, a dozen toned photograms from 2002 and at the end a dozen toned images of his mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s in 2006. I must say that when I first started through the book the photograms did not strike a responsive chord in me – they felt out of place. However, after working my way through the entire book, I began looking at them in relationship to the later series of his mother and gained a much greater appreciation for them.

 The parallels between the two series are striking although surprisingly the photograms predate by four years the images of his mother. I find it interesting how often a photographer’s work circles back on itself. At the end of the book the images of his mother’s last year of her life bring us full circle back to the opening photograms – “Jane #26” and “Jane #28” with their stark contrast and highly out of focus subject have an eerie quality very reminiscent of the opening photograms.

 In writing about this series Keith says, “My mother, who had been a portrait photographer much of her life, passed away from Alzheimer’s. In her last year I took along a black piece of cloth and my camera when I visited. Using duct tape, I fastened the cloth to the wall behind her and made portraits…” Pat Carter, Keith’s wife, provides a more profound insight into this series in her afterword - “Photography was the thing they had shared, and it was a way to animate her . . . Her beauty was never lost to him. But in the end, the process he had loved to watch from atop a stool in her old darkroom reversed itself and her image began to dissolve before his eyes until, finally, she was lost to memory.”

 Keith’s magic is his ability to see within ordinary everyday moments images that transcend the commonplace to tap into our collective subconscious. I’ve long been a fan of his work; the pragmatic photographer in me looks at many of the images and wants to know what and where. The quixotic side looks at the images with a sense of wonder and awe.

 “A Certain Alchemy” is his tenth book; I anxiously await his next endeavor.

  -Philip