David Kahehtowanen Miller, photographer, Orford
David Kahehtowanen Miller was born in Greece, New York and
received his Bachelor of Fine Arts at Purchase College of
the State University of New York, and his Master of Fine Arts
at Yale University. While attending Yale he was a Philip Morris/Ford
Foundation Fellow and received the George Saker Memorial Prize
for Excellence in Photography. Miller has extensive exhibition
experience from the Heard Museum in Phoenix, the Banff Arts
Centre in Alberta, The Woodlands Cultural Centre in Ontario,
the Juanita Kreps Gallery at Duke University and locally at
Dartmouth College and Plymouth State College.
Miller teaches photography at Dartmouth College and lectures
at various Art Centers and Universities throughout the Northeast
and Canada. His works are a part of permanent, public collections
at the State University of New York, Yale University and the
with the slides Miller submitted for his Fellowship application,
he submitted a narrative about a mysterious engagement with
a hitchhiker along Route 25C near Orford, NH (see below for
excerpt). He shoots with a 12x20 View Camera and a modified
8x10 View Camera. Miller strives to combine his love of old
country music into the emotions and simplicity of his black
and white photographs. One could say that the simplicity of
the newly revived Shape Note singing is echoed in his photographs
and his storytelling.
middle name, Kahehtowanen, is his Mohawk name. He looks forward
to his annual visits to his family's reservation in Canada.
excerpt from Brian Miller's narrative:
night after dinner she told me that she had to leave. I knew
that this was coming and that there was nothing I could do
to stop her. I asked where she would go and she said she just
wanted to go back to that spot of Route 25C were I found her.
But she said she had a few more days. She had been with me
for three weeks. Three days later I drove her to that spot.
We didn't talk much on the drive. I asked her where she would
go and what she would do. She said she did not know but she
would manage. I helped her with her bag and kissed her goodbye.
She said she loved me. As I drove away I looked back. She
was walking into the woods. The next day I went back, I had
to know what happened to her. But there was nothing to suggest
that she had ever been there, not even a footprint. I walked
back into the woods for about a mile but it became too swampy
to continue. I never saw her again."
to 2005 Fellows page
January 4, 2005