Ten minutes ago I was supposed to meet photographer Mariah Channing at Barsa, the stylish tapas place on King. I’m working on a project and don’t mind that she’s late- but when my phone rings, and its her, we discover we’ve both arrived early and have been waiting separately. Channing waves across the restaurant, and comes over carrying her laptop and glass of water.
With her winged eye liner, bow shaped lips, cat-eye glasses and a scattering of tattoos winking out from under her charcoal colored tee, Channing could be one of those mischievous sylphs on the cover of an alternative magazine. Her cameo necklace swings on a long thin silver chain as she sits, looking dreamily distracted, like a cat that’s just woken from a sunlit nap.
“I’ve been working on website stuff all day at the studio. Then I was at the Orange Spot- have you ever tried their cayenne tea?”
“ I haven’t,” I say, and she tells me its to die for.
She places her laptop between us and shows me her photographs.
“This one here, with the magnolias, that was an adventure.”
“I bought this kiddie pool without really thinking about how I was going to make it all work. On the day of the shoot, I had to blow the whole thing up by myself and then run back and forth into the photo room with a pitcher to fill it up before my model came- and all these art students are sitting around outside Redux, sketching away and staring at me, wondering out what I was doing. I picked all the flowers by hand from trees by the side of the road. The model was from Model Mayhem. She was great.”
Channing crosses her hands over the back of her laptop, resting her chin over them with a sigh. “This cameo shape is hard to fit a picture inside. The shape is just so busy to begin with- I think maybe it just doesn’t work. I’m going to move towards using a circle frame. But this one,” she taps a cameo, “was in the Piccolo Spoleto exhibition.”
We talk about round frames, and those beautiful antique photographs you can find sometimes at thrift stores with the domed glass. “Those are the best,” she sighs.
Where do her ideas come from?
She keeps a sketchbook.
“Words or doodles?”
“Both! and if a symbol comes to mind, I’ll define it for myself, too. Writing stuff all around it.” She scribbles in the air.
“Making kind of a mind map?”
“Yes, exactly. And I write down ideas for costumes and postures too.”
Channing sources her costumes from antique and thrift stores, and also uses found objects. “When I moved into Redux I found a super little-teeny-tiny hatched egg outside on the sidewalk. It seemed like a good omen, you know? So I kept it, I still have it. I’d like to take more walks in the woods and find stuff…”
I tell her a rambling story about a pig’s skull I acquired (we ordered a pigs head for dinner one night at The Green Door, which was delicious albeit exceptionally porky), how I put it in the yard to be cleaned by ants. But a raccoon or something ran off with it… my friend was going to put me in touch with some witches he knew who said they would let me sit in on a ceremony in exchange for bringing the skull. But the skull had been my ticket, so without it…
Channing laughs. “I follow this guy on Facebook who finds these great bugs. He builds moth traps, with this great big white sheet…”
Occasionally she does boudoir photography. “In college I became fascinated with classical nudes. And Venus, Venus was my favorite. I just think its neat, especially in this generation when women they they have to look a certain way. This is a way they can fall in love with themselves again.”
Eventually, she says, she’d like to open a photography business. She tilts her head on her hands to catlike effect. “I have an idea, a kind of a two pronged approach as to how to do it, but I’m going to keep it under wraps for now.”
One of her pieces won best in photography at the Salon de Refuses, a show that was coincidental with the Young Contemporaries at the Halsey Institute of Contemporary Art, and recently participated in a group show with the Charleston Female Photographers at the North Charleston Arts Festival.
She’s offering special edition matted photographs through Charleston’s Supported Art program, which offers glamorous baskets of art from six local artists to shareholders- sign up today to support local art!- and can be reached through Facebook or her website for questions and commissions.