blueheART STUDIOS

A.I.

Dan Kuehn — Wed, 08 Jul 2026 16:29:38 +0000

AI is the electronic drum kit behind John, Paul and George

Someone wrote about a group of “photographs generated completely by AI,” but “AI is not the central theme.” That makes about as much sense as fucking for virginity. And get this…

The photographs were generated by AI (ai?) “made” by a fictitious photographer… ANDTHEBESTPART… those photos are on display at a gallery in Berlin.

And that got me thinking without the aid of chatgpt. And… and… if you Google chatgpt, its header asks, “Where should we begin?” Let’s begin here… just for now…

AI!!!
The gift for the gift-less.
The experience for the inexperienced.
The talent for the untalented.
The lie that replaces the truth.

Henry Ford was first, I suppose without deep research, in automation, assembly line. A man completely out of his lane who made things designed to stay in their lanes. Interesting.

Honor, one among many failing attributes, is a weakness in this current political climate and tills the field that produces a crop of crap.

Automated societies cannot endure life’s pleasures or pains. What becomes of manual labor? What is the value of 10,000 strokes of the paintbrush on canvas? What of the experience of 10,000 exposures (on film) in a camera before you make your first visual statement?

Daily we are forced-fed on a plate piled high with fake news and fake photographs and fake portraits and fake feelings and fake resumes and fake experiences and fake emotions and fake food. We sustain ourselves on the calories of callous carelessness.

A social construct top heavy in technology will, one day, bottom out when there is nothing to eat, nothing to wear, nowhere to go, and the only place to hide will be the vault of artificial thinking… our newest political party.

Complaints without possible alternatives are merely boo-freaking-who moments stacked with quip-less quibbles.

Without the pressure of “make something of yourself,” just make something for yourself.

Awaken as the sun rises to proclaim another glorious day and to honor your presence in it.

Lean into the light and likeness of yourself with the knowledge of your profound promise, wonderful worth, capable competence, and limitless love. Because there is nothing artificial about any of that.

Happy 6th of July

Dan Kuehn — Mon, 06 Jul 2026 13:54:39 +0000

Around the Fourth of July, for nearly 20 years, I would get this wonderful sensation of my heart expanding and my pulse quickening because August was just right around the corner and soon the start of a new semester. I could not wait to get back to the classroom.

Same thing happened to me this year as we celebrated the 250th birthday of our nation… well… except the classroom has been replaced with a return to My Orvieto.

I have so many projects that need attention to completion… A screenplay and treatment, my first limited edition portfolio of silver prints from my newly completed darkroom at Casa Terese… stay tuned.

I play a bit of music. Guitar, mandolin, banjo. Okay… I own a banjo. What was it Mark Twain said? Oh, yes…

“The definition of a true gentleman is one who knows how to play the banjo yet does not.” I digress…

Took me three years of begging a most famous guitar maker to build me one of his “Small Jumbo” models. So precious is this guitar I ordered, in brilliant orange color, a hand made case from Calton Cases, with the name David Mello engraved on the nameplate. And the nameplate got me thinking.

I will sign my new “fotos” under that nom de plume, David Mello. They are not even a frontage road to the work I have made over the past fifty years. These go in a reverse direction. Maybe even entering parts unknown illegally. So…

I am here to give this new pseudonym a soft opening.

I leave you with “Wine Glass and Wall, Orvieto.”

FotoOil by David Mello.

I have Come Out.

Dan Kuehn — Wed, 01 Jul 2026 15:12:50 +0000

In Orvieto I am who I feel I am. I have come out of the darkroom… temporarily.

I am committing art in an unusual way. A far departure from my classical training as a “purist” photojournalist. So pure, that when I discovered Henri Cartier-Bresson in undergrad college, I took a file to my 35mm negative carrier so I could print my negatives with a black border. Sorry Alan Ross. I digress…

That signifies that I print 100% of the negative. I never (except sometimes) crop in the darkroom. My compositions are 100% of the frame… If you have the subject in the frame and must crop to get it, you were not there. And if you do not compose in the camera, you will decompose in the darkroom (Lightroom). I digress…

So…

This image. Is it even from me? How could I? To some of you it is kitsch. To me it is freedom. Freedom…

I thought I discovered freedom in grad school, Vermont College of Norwich University. The first night, at the “students'” exhibition, my photographs were the last that were critiqued by the highly educated full-time faculty (Ph.D.) Miwon Quan, who stated in front of the 30 students who started the program (11 finished), “Well, we all know this is photojournalism. And photojournalism is not art. And Kenn, I don’t see any of you in this photo.” That was the best compliment I ever received as a photojournalist. I digress…

What I came to realize at that critique is this: the fine art of photojournalism is the captured critical moments that illuminate the human condition. I have written extensively on that subject. Illustrated, of course.

So, here I am. And whoever (whomever?) I am, I am in My Orvieto.

I leave you with Tables and Chairs, Corso Cavour, Orvieto. FotoOils.

Happy Monday. On Tuesday.

Dan Kuehn — Tue, 26 May 2026 16:15:34 +0000

Went to The River, I did. Did my close detail exposures of The River. And yet I long to make “landscapes.”

But… landscapes terrify me. Why, you wonder? Well because there is Alan Ross. And before him there was Ansel Adams. Before him? Was there anyone worth mentioning? Yes.

There was William Henry Jackson.

All scary photographers.

As Paul McCartney said, “It’s only art.” And… if my attribution is incorrect, Paul should have said that. I digress…

So… I made an exposure of an almost “landscape.” Riverscape??? Maybe.

Hey… Writers write. Painters paint. Photographers photograph. And so, I did.

TechTok

Sinar F 4×5. TMAX 100 at 100. C-16 for 7:00 minutes.
Sunbathing Branch: 19″ Red Dot Artar, 1 second at ƒ/64.
The River #2: (Riverscape?) 240mm Schneider, 1 second at ƒ/64.
The Wall #2: 240mm Schneider, 1 second at ƒ/64.
©2026 The Kenn Bisio Family Trust. All rights reserved worldwide.

The River #1

Sun Bathing Branch #2

The Hours of The Clock

Dan Kuehn — Tue, 31 Mar 2026 15:42:50 +0000

Here, in My Orvieto, we gained an hour and lost a couple of months.

I think today was the month of January. Better… I think today was November to April in Colorado when winter was winter. It was colder here than the shoulders of all the people I meet. I digress…

What to do when it is Daylight Saving Time and it’s darker than the first print I made in my makeshift darkroom in 1967? Now that was dark.

I roamed from my home with my camera to see what I could see. Or if I could see, you see.

Lines and shapes and shadows and mood and gale force winds. Not just gale winds. Gale. Force. Winds.

I returned to Casa Terese and entered my darkroom that I built in my Etruscan Cave of a garage. According to the thermometer it was 51 degrees in there and felt like January days in Honolulu. My hands were so cold, 68º water was too hot to handle.

After fifty-plus years of committing art with a camera I still get the first kiss butterflies in my stomach each time I frame up. I am having the most wonderful next season of my life. Everywhere I go, whether it is Orvieto or The River, I see such beauty and grace in the simplest forms.

So, I commit art to share the truth I know… captured critical moments that, if allowed, will brighten our hearts.

Thank you all for giving these fotos a moment of your time. It means everything to me.

Gate #30

A Wall of Geometry

A Chair in a Doorway

Stair, Il Duomo and A Man

My Orvieto

Dan Kuehn — Wed, 18 Mar 2026 15:59:19 +0000

I have a new friend.

Maurizio Rosella. He is the Paul McCartney of painters. No two paintings are alike. He is a superhero with paints, brushes and canvases. Canvases? He paints on translucent material. Glass, I think… according to my third-grade conversation Italian. But I am serious…

No two paintings are similar. And… He does installation pieces, too. One such installation had 30,000 handwritten notes. Probably not 30 million… I’m not good with numbers in Italian. Nor the words. I digress…

So, I went to his studio to make his portrait. As Italians will, we talked for nearly an hour before I made one exposure. It’s an environmental portrait. Quite acceptable in photojournalism, something I swore to never do again. I guess hell froze over for more than just The Eagles. I digress…

When I told him his work is like no other I have seen and no two paintings are alike and that I crowned him the Paul McCartney of painters because like Maca, no two songs ever sounded the same, he told me, “Sono schizofrenico.” And I told him, “Si, lo sei. No, non lo sei. Si, lo sei.” (Maurizio said he is schizophrenic and I said, Yes, you are. No, you’re not. Yes, you are). He laughed. I made my second joke in Italiano.
I leave you with a few of Maurizio in his studio. And the one of him laughing at my attempt at standup.

1. Maurizio and one translucent painting (he painted it on the back of the glass and backward).

2. I told him the painting in the background reminded me of Gordon Parks’ “American Gothic” photograph.

3. Maurizio laughed at my joke (evidence!!!)

Maurizio and one translucent painting (he painted it on the back of the glass and backward).

I told him the painting in the background reminded me of Gordon Parks' "American Gothic" photograph.

Maurizio laughed at my joke (evidence!!!)

River and Snow #30

Dan Kuehn — Wed, 04 Mar 2026 02:00:10 +0000

I will miss The River. Until my return from my beloved Orvieto and Casa Terese.

The snow you see here will be long gone when I return this summer.

I leave you with Snow and River #30 (my tongue-in-cheek reference to Edward Weston).

TecTok

Sinar F 8×10, Outdated TRI-X 320 at 320, HC-110B (the old syrup stuff) 1:31, 6:30 at 68º, running water as stop, Photographers’ Formulary F4 Archival Fixer, running water as rinse, HypoClear, 10-minute was in my 11×14 Zone VI Archival Print Washer, PhotoFlo, hang dry overnight, scanned on my Epson V850 at 600 dpi and 48-bit RGB color for separations for the book.

Odd Man IN

Dan Kuehn — Sun, 01 Mar 2026 17:54:00 +0000

I already miss The River, and I haven’t even left for Orvieto yet.

And I really miss Orvieto and that is why I am going there. Well, that and to work in my new darkroom.

New darkroom. New project. Stay tuned.

First round of workshops. Bringing new folks to film photography, guiding those already using film to master the photographic process. I love teaching for success. Teaching the mastery of the machine is easy. It can be accomplished overnight. Learning the photographic process is a life-long endeavor.

Understanding the film you use, the developer you use… This knowledge is the foundation to the questions that demand the verdict of why you placed the lens where you did, why you selected that focal length, why you determined the shutter speed to that aperture. Those answers form the previsualized image in your mind before the exposure is made.

I did my first, what? Landscape… scenic? I think it will make a nice postcard. Or worse, placemat at the dinner table. But…

I surmounted my fear of the far away and exchanged it for the up close and personal. Now… if I can just make the far away personal. We. Shall. See.

I leave you with: Placemat (10 for $20).

TecTok

Sinar F 4×5, 120mm Schneider, TMAX 100 at 100, 10-seconds at ƒ/64, Number 25 filter, C-16 for 7:00 minutes at 68º, running water as stop, Photographers’ Formulary F4 Archival Fixer, running water as rinse, HypoClear, 10-minute wash, PhotoFlo, hang dry overnight, scanned on Epson V850 at 600 dpi and 48-bit RGB color for the separations for the book.

Sto imparando a parale italiano

Dan Kuehn — Thu, 19 Feb 2026 00:39:00 +0000

And that has really fouled my brain toward my understanding English. I hope to have a grasp of italiano in such a way to have my way with its play of words.

Interesting it is that the least favorite day of the week is Monday. Mondays are more a start of the grind rather than the sip of the coffee. So, how do I change the way I look at Monday when that day of the week is so close to the English word, mundane? I dunno. But…

I am fascinated by words that look so closely aligned and mean something entirely different. Except how we view Monday and mundane. But…

There is value in the mundane. Take last Monday…

I am running experiments in my Denver darkroom to find a liquid developer that might replicate my prized powered developer that, actually, gives signature to my photographs. Why? For the brevity of the brew (coffee reference comeback)… an easy mix of chemistry and water that will save time at my blueheART STUDIOS FILM PHOTOGRAPHY WORKSHOPS at Casa Terese in Orvieto, Italia (kenn.bisio.com)

I went to The River, set up my camera, and made seven, exactly the same, exposures of a normal contrast scene. I processed each individual sheet of film in one of six different developer and one in my go-to powdered soup (photog’s vernacular). Precise Proofs will render better results than these scans.

It was a mundane Monday. Rote motions of dilutions and times and temperatures and washing and drying. Seven hours later, when I finished, I had a sense I did something essential. Something important. And then…

I realized that mundane is what I make it. And although I developed film in a strict and controlled environment, I saw myself in the stew of anthropological imponderabilia that is so critical to discovery. And…

I was alive in the commonplace with the realization that nothing changes if nothing changes.

Love to you all.

1. Photographers' Formulary FA 1027, 6:30 min

2. ADOX Syrup 110B, 6:30 min

3. Kodak HC-110B (Syrup), 6:30 min

4. Ilfotech HC, 6:30 min

5. Kodak HC-110B (Liquid), 6:30 min

6. ADOX Rodinal, 8:00 min

7. Photographers' Formulary TD-16 with 30cc Crone C Additive per 1000cc developer, 6:30 min

Eternity.

Dan Kuehn — Sat, 31 Jan 2026 14:27:56 +0000

Why do we, and by we I mean me, think eternity is later? Or for later?

I think eternity is now. Right now. And later. But now builds the later.

I have a friend of 42 years. She’s a writer and a teacher and was in her third year of tenure-track when she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Fourth stage. That was about ten years ago. Three years ago, it came back. As she described it, “cancer of my ass#%&!.” We were at dinner when she told me that her cancer had returned and then asked, “Can you believe I got ass#%&! cancer?”

Now… she is one crusty gal who vacillates between agnosticism and atheism and my pause before answering prompted her to quip, “F#%k you.” Like a sister would. Or a close friend. When a close friend tells you to f#%k off I guess that is okay as far as okay can ever be.

Today she is being moved from a hospital’s oncology ward to home hospice care. The next few days will be interesting…

Is it her impending death that has brought eternity to mind? No? It’s a combination of things. Things real and things imagined.

When I go to The River,* I live life in nanoseconds when I am in the act of committing art with a camera. I see the finished print in my mind before it becomes a physical photograph (visualization). Those nanosecond experiences will be with me through all of eternity. The eternity of now. And later.

If eternity is now and later, how should I be now for later? As I ponder this at 3:20 a.m., and way before sunrise, I will think of nanoseconds that build the day of days that establishes our eternities.

I have no idea where this rumination will lead me, but I know it is huge. And it is the start of my stirrings to understand an infinite God in a finite world.

And… that’s all I have.

* I have attached my latest from The River. I have been working a five-mile stretch of The North Fork of the South Platte at Buffalo Creek, Colorado for the last few years. And before The River, I had been working with my 4×5 camera (size of the negative) doing “fine art”, since 1980. I am in the process of laying out a book of these images.

So, I leave you with my latest from The River, “Ice Study 2.” Some of you have seen it before so forgive me my indulgence.

TekTok (my takeoff on TikTok):

Zone VI 4×5 Field Camera, 305mm Schneider lens, HP5 at 400 asa, 16-seconds at ƒ/90, Photographers’ Formulary TD-16 with 30cc Crone C Additive, converting it to C-16 for 6:15 at 68º, running water as stop, Photographers’ Formulary Archival Fixer, running water as rinse, HypoClear, 10-minute wash in my Zone VI 11×14 Archival Print Washer, hang dry overnight, scanned the following day on my Epson V850 at 600 dpi and 48-bit color for the separations for the book, printed with my 1968 Durst 138s 5×7 enlarger through a Heiland Splitgrade Timer onto Ilford Multigrade Fiber paper.