The Puppet Master

During Her Three-decade Career, Connie Imboden Has Found Inspiration by Channeling Her Unconscious.

- Gabriella Souza

A CACOPHONY OF CONSTRUCTION GREETS ME AS I enter Highland town’s Y:ART Gallery: the ripping of bubble wrap, the clatter of ladders, and the thumping of hammers. All this announces, before I observe a single frame on the stark white walls, the installation of a new show by world-renowned local photographer Connie Imboden, which is the first time her work is on display in Baltimore in 13 years. I spot the artist standing nearby, and surprisingly, she seems immune to all the commotion. She watches patiently, draped in her customary all-black attire, as Connie Imboden: A Retrospective comes to life. Instead of appearing stressed or anxious, she is gracious and enthusiastic as she dashes up to me and reaches for my arm. “Let me show you what I’ve been talking about,” she says.

Imboden leads me through a hallway lined with frames leaning against the walls to an open room. We walk to the far wall, and she turns toward a smaller photograph that is resting on the floor. Imboden watches me as I take it in. In this work, a man gazes downward, with one of his arms loosely extended above his head, an eerie red light illuminating the background. It has a decidedly classical feel, with rich color and detail, and as with the rest of Imboden’s work, it seems almost impossible that the image is a photograph.

“It’s beautiful,” I tell Imboden. “It makes me think of those paintings from the Renaissance, where Jesus is being taken down from the cross.” She smiles. I would come to understand that this way of engaging with an observer is typical of Imboden, who, even after a more than 30-year career, still craves discussion and new stimuli. “This is my favorite, I think,” she says. “I still don’t know what he reminds me of, though. Something . . .” She rubs her fingers together, searching for words.