Who Will Remember Such Fine Times?

In the face of great loss we all become mad.

My particular madness manifests in a spiraling obsession to interpret the present photographically; to give everything around me a slice of immortality and immutability. The catalytic experience of losing my mother at a young age has lead to a practice of image making that is a strange combination of fear, love and curiosity.

My gaze has now turned to my father, whose madness takes root in the maintenance of 91 Grassmere St., the small cookie-cutter suburban structure that our family has called home. Over the past five-going-on-six years since he quit his job, my father has filled his days with a variety of domestic improvement projects. His present preoccupation is with the front lawn, the mood ring of suburban living. He is consumed with the appearance of order. We are both consumed with appearing to be okay.

This project is an attempt to construct a portrait of my father in all his complexities, analyzing his idiosyncrasies and details with the detachment of an anthropologist. Through the act of collaboration in creating images together, we are drawn closer. The camera acts as a mediator, allowing us to express ourselves without the limitations imposed by the appearances we both assume, creating a space for vulnerability and communication which has been absent from our relationship. Together, we are both trying to cultivate a physical, evidential record of our healing, our growth, our survival. Our lives, without her.

5.24 edits_4.jpg

This series was completed for my B.A. in Studio Art (Photography) at Boston College. It was presented as an artist book and an installation. Several pages in the artist book are presented above and the installation view can be seen left.

This work is also featured as an online exhibition at Aviary Gallery.