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DOWNTOWN
It came from beneath the Earth
Photojournalist captures Big Dig
By Ron Fletcher, Globe Correspondent | March 20, 2005
Camouflage no longer defines Michael Hintlian's wardrobe. The
photojournalist's predawn groping for a pair of duck bib overalls, safety
vest, and hard hat has ended. Four thousand rolls of film later, his attire
differs once again from that of the Big Dig workers whom he spent seven
years chronicling unofficially. Morning musings now revolve around ideas
other than how to slip unnoticed into a crew of ironworkers or piledrivers.
These days, when he returns to the sites and sights he visited
thrice-weekly, it's in the humdrum role of commuter.
''I'll still take a few shots of the project from my car window as I'm
driving through town," said Hintlian. ''Even though the bulk of the work is
done, there are still some interesting things going on. I can't quite accept
that my work there is over. It's like Frankenstein's obsession, but one I
certainly don't regret."
>From 5,000 prints, Hintlian has culled 65 black-and-white shots that capture
the trials and triumphs of the country's largest public works project. They
appear in the recently published book ''Digging: The Workers of Boston's Big
Dig." In images that convey the menace -- and promise -- of iron, steel, and
concrete, Hintlian has highlighted the faces, arms, hands, and torsos of
some of the Dig's 5,000 workers. In them, you glimpse the living that takes
place between the taxing shifts.
''My core interest was exploring where work and worker meet," said Hintlian.
He recalled the very first shot he took, an image that did not make it into
the book but remains a personal favorite.
''It was early in the project, back in 1997," said Hintlian. ''This group of
ironworkers were doing some preliminary work, rigging a huge beam. I caught
this image of their arms -- just their arms -- coming into contact with the
wire cable and the steel column. That dazzled me. That opened the door."
Hintlian's previous work focused on the plight of Armenians after the
dissolution of the Soviet Union. With the Big Dig project, which initially
seemed like a welcome distraction from the grief and struggle throughout his
grandfather's post-genocide homeland, Hintlian unearthed some common
denominators and evolved as a photographer.
''Photographers often struggle with the classification of their work: Is it
art? Is it journalism? Is it lasting or fleeting?" said Hintlian, 56.
''I've begun to see my work more in terms of history," he said. ''I hope and
trust that I'm putting together a body of work that in 50 or 100 years will
add to our understanding of what happened in a particular place at a
particular time to particular people, whether it's Armenia or downtown
Boston."
A full-time photojournalist, Hintlian remains well aware of the momentous
events he missed during his subterranean days in Boston. ''I would have gone
to Afghanistan and Iraq," said Hintlian, ''but I was too deep into this
project. Also . . . I was finding a voice and direction I'd been looking for
as a photographer. I was learning not to let my conscious mind get in the
way. . . . I can't wait to return to Armenia with this new approach to what
I do."
Though Hintlian now drives through the city in civilian clothing, he recalls
fondly his days among the hard-hatted workers.
''I had this, well, tool that weighed 19 ounces, while they handled tons of
steel," said Hintlian. ''Still, we were both there to build something, bolt
by bolt or image by image."
Michael Hintlian will discuss his Big Dig photographs at the Old South
Meeting House at 310 Washington St. Wednesday at 6:30 p.m. Admission is
free.
DOWNTOWN
It came from beneath the Earth
Photojournalist captures Big Dig
By Ron Fletcher, Globe Correspondent | March 20, 2005
Camouflage no longer defines Michael Hintlian's wardrobe. The
photojournalist's predawn groping for a pair of duck bib overalls, safety
vest, and hard hat has ended. Four thousand rolls of film later, his attire
differs once again from that of the Big Dig workers whom he spent seven
years chronicling unofficially. Morning musings now revolve around ideas
other than how to slip unnoticed into a crew of ironworkers or piledrivers.
These days, when he returns to the sites and sights he visited
thrice-weekly, it's in the humdrum role of commuter.
''I'll still take a few shots of the project from my car window as I'm
driving through town," said Hintlian. ''Even though the bulk of the work is
done, there are still some interesting things going on. I can't quite accept
that my work there is over. It's like Frankenstein's obsession, but one I
certainly don't regret."
>From 5,000 prints, Hintlian has culled 65 black-and-white shots that capture
the trials and triumphs of the country's largest public works project. They
appear in the recently published book ''Digging: The Workers of Boston's Big
Dig." In images that convey the menace -- and promise -- of iron, steel, and
concrete, Hintlian has highlighted the faces, arms, hands, and torsos of
some of the Dig's 5,000 workers. In them, you glimpse the living that takes
place between the taxing shifts.
''My core interest was exploring where work and worker meet," said Hintlian.
He recalled the very first shot he took, an image that did not make it into
the book but remains a personal favorite.
''It was early in the project, back in 1997," said Hintlian. ''This group of
ironworkers were doing some preliminary work, rigging a huge beam. I caught
this image of their arms -- just their arms -- coming into contact with the
wire cable and the steel column. That dazzled me. That opened the door."
Hintlian's previous work focused on the plight of Armenians after the
dissolution of the Soviet Union. With the Big Dig project, which initially
seemed like a welcome distraction from the grief and struggle throughout his
grandfather's post-genocide homeland, Hintlian unearthed some common
denominators and evolved as a photographer.
''Photographers often struggle with the classification of their work: Is it
art? Is it journalism? Is it lasting or fleeting?" said Hintlian, 56.
''I've begun to see my work more in terms of history," he said. ''I hope and
trust that I'm putting together a body of work that in 50 or 100 years will
add to our understanding of what happened in a particular place at a
particular time to particular people, whether it's Armenia or downtown
Boston."
A full-time photojournalist, Hintlian remains well aware of the momentous
events he missed during his subterranean days in Boston. ''I would have gone
to Afghanistan and Iraq," said Hintlian, ''but I was too deep into this
project. Also . . . I was finding a voice and direction I'd been looking for
as a photographer. I was learning not to let my conscious mind get in the
way. . . . I can't wait to return to Armenia with this new approach to what
I do."
Though Hintlian now drives through the city in civilian clothing, he recalls
fondly his days among the hard-hatted workers.
''I had this, well, tool that weighed 19 ounces, while they handled tons of
steel," said Hintlian. ''Still, we were both there to build something, bolt
by bolt or image by image."
Michael Hintlian will discuss his Big Dig photographs at the Old South
Meeting House at 310 Washington St. Wednesday at 6:30 p.m. Admission is
free.