This November, powerHouse will publish “U.S. Marshals,” a book of photographs taken by Brian Finke as he infiltrated the world of the titular law enforcement agents. These images — which are, as the artist admits, more than a bit heroic — have an extra frisson amidst the current debate over the militarization of police forces in the age of Ferguson. ARTINFO’s Scott Indrisek chatted with Finke about the project, which will also be the subject of a solo exhibition at New York’s ClampArt, on view November 20 through December 20.
As the forward to the book explains, your in-road to the world of “U.S. Marshals” was via a childhood friend, Cameron Welch. Did you ever suspect that your friend Cameron would grow up to be a U.S. marshal? How has his current vocation changed the person you knew growing up, if at all?
I still see him as the same person from growing up: This guy in high school that knew everyone, that would always know the place to be on a Friday and Saturday night, a really great, sincere, outgoing guy. It’s kind of surreal seeing him as a U.S. marshal, but at the same time it totally makes sense. He’s really intense about what he does and I’m happy for him that’s able to have that passion for his career.
Before beginning this project, what were your own general thoughts and experiences regarding law enforcement? How did those thoughts and opinions change, if at all, during the duration of the project?
What’s amazing about what I do and one of the reasons I feel very fortunate is that photographing allows me to enter all these amazing worlds. One day I’m photographing a BBQ story in Texas, then flight attendants in Detroit, then the next day hip-hop music video models — it’s always something new, and an extremely intoxicating and addictive way of life. My entry into photographing the marshals felt very natural. The very first day out we were driving 120 mph down the freeway to capture an escaped convict. It was such a thrill being there that all my photographs felt super heroic — actually too much so that they were almost like propaganda posters — but that was just because the images reflected how excited I was being there, and my reaction to the experience. It’s pretty bad-ass watching the marshals do their jobs.
What was one of the craziest things you encountered or observed while traveling with marshals across the country to capture these images? Did you ever find yourself in danger?
I witnessed sex-offender round-ups in Las Vegas, a Con Air prison extradition from Cuba, and intense Texas/Mexico border activity, like in the Wild West. But I never felt my life was in any danger. Maybe I was a bit naïve in some situations, but the marshals are all about overwhelming force when going to serve the warrants. It’s amazing watching them do their thing.
One thing that’s readily apparent from your photos is that the marshals have some serious hardware. In your opinion, is all of this gear necessary for the job, or is some of it excessive?
I am not a journalist, a reporter, or activist. I photograph subject matters that fall in the documentary area but it’s not my intention to comment directly on current events. I leave that up to the viewer to take what they will from the photographs and come to their own conclusions.
Your body of work is very diverse, to say the least — you’ve shot everything from hard-partying frat boys to travelers on Amtrak and Japanese baseball players. When you’re capturing diverse subcultures like these, or traveling with a marshal to photograph their daily life, how involved do you personally get in the experience?
I love what I do and I’ve come to realize I really have to participate in order to commit to so much time with a subject. I spend a few years on these book projects and I get completely obsessed with them. When my assistant and I are with the marshals we’re in the back seats of their SUVs, binoculars in hand, scoping out the WalMart parking lot and waiting for the operation to go down. We’re right there behind the action. And when the marshals say, “Put on the bulletproof vest” — we do.
