To Be Frank — Rachael Galipo

To be Frank: open, honest, candid, and willingness to share what one feels or thinks

That’s exactly how I remember him.

My uncle Frank was a man of many words even though he was the quietest in the room. He spoke with his mouth closed and eyes wide open. Through his images, he could tell you a whole story without saying a word. Connecting with people was always so important to him and photography did just that.

Frank was one of six brothers and sisters. He grew up with my Dad along the Jersey Shore. My dad says that when Frank was growing up he was always looking for some way to express his creativity. Expression through art didn’t just fall into Frank’s lap. He got most of his influence through my Grandpa Bill. Frank loved expanding his mind with paint, clay, and crayons. But when he got his first camera at age 18, he quickly packed up his van and traveled to attend the Brookes Institute of Photography in California. After college, he moved back to the city and his studio was across the street from The Fashion Institute of New York. Over the years, Frank became a photographer for a few magazines in New York City.

In my family, there aren't exactly many "creative types." I have a few cousins and relatives that are designers or architects but not many. In the world of photography, Uncle Frank and I were different and not in a negative way. We just connected with the world differently. After teaching me the basics of my first camera, he pushed me to keep taking images and as the years went by I filled the basement with negatives. He shared his old cameras with me and taught me to appreciate the uniqueness of each one.

Sadly, he passed away a few years ago. The last camera he had given me was his 4x5 (large format) camera—a Cambo SC, a huge piece of equipment with a lot of moving parts. Yes, a camera where you have to put a black sheet over your head to look through the viewfinder.

The biggest lesson he taught me was how important it is to be open. Open to life, open to people, and open to the expression of one’s self without judgment.

About four years ago I decided to venture out to see the world and explore new places while living in a van. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t find space in the van for this massive 4x5 camera case. I was heartbroken to leave it behind, but now I just know I was waiting for the perfect time to use it.

Earlier this year I booked a photo job in New York City. Giddy with excitement, I packed my bags and flew from Oregon all the way to New York. Before the project started I visited my parents in New Jersey. Around this time, I found out that the job had just been canceled. I was so unbelievably disappointed. As I wandered around the house, I came across this dusty old case with Frank’s camera in it.

Over the next few days, I re-taught myself how to use this camera. Despite losing the job I was still going to go to Brooklyn to meet up with a friend. “Well, what do you want to do?” Kris asked me, “I want to be Frank.”

I loaded up the camera and went into the city but I wasn’t even sure if it had any terrible light leaks or other problems. I was, I guess, open to the outcome.

We decided to visit a few parks around the city, and we ended up at Washington Square Park. My goal was to be open - to take a step away from my reality and into someone else, to level with them, to see them for who they are, and be open to my own expression of connection. Turns out a 4x5 camera can be quite an attraction itself so at one point I decided to put it away and then allow people to be completely open with me. Then when the time was right I would take out the camera and set it up. I felt like hearing people, letting them tell me whatever it was they wanted, would create an expression of connection through vulnerability. The portraits I took of people warmed me. Each expression told a story.

Then I met Julian. As I set up my camera (which takes about 5 minutes), he started skating. I thought to myself, “the way I express myself stems from challenges,” so why not try to capture motion on a 4x5? And in some way shape or form… I took my first motion image on a 4x5 in one shot.

Julian skating in the streets of New York

When I moved to SLC in January, I wanted to be a part of the film/creative community, so I went into Essential Photo Supply - a camera and film shop downtown - and met Ken and Lisa, the owners. I wanted an opinion of the 4x5 images I shot. As we were flipping through the photos, Ken stopped immediately at the image of Julian skating. I remember him scrolling through, asking 1000 questions at once. “How did you get this image? What made you take it? How many shots did you take to get this exact one?”

At this moment he said, “Rachael, no one is doing this.” After my nervousness wore off, Ken and I started talking. He said that I should pursue motion on 4x5 for an art show at Essential.

I completed this project over the last 8 months. As a freelance photographer, I travel for work. For each trip, I’d simply extend my stay or add an hour or two onto the drive and meet up with athletes around the west coast. It was hard work but fun work.

Setting up the show was honestly a blur. I had worked so hard driving, traveling, producing, taking the images, scanning the negatives, cleaning the scans, and finally making sure they were getting printed on time. I poured not only my heart but my whole soul into it.

This past Friday, July 15th, (8 months later after the first photo), I had my first solo art show filled with all motion captured on 4x5. “I don't think anyone is going to come.” I thought. Turns out I was very wrong….

Though I am still processing my show, it is hard not to think of what my uncle would have thought. I think he would have been extremely proud. Not of the 200 + people that showed up but how I have found my own way of connecting with the world and the people that surround me in it. Lastly, he would be proud of the woman I've grown into who wants to just ‘be frank’ with the opportunities that allow for it.