Since 1979, I have been making images of my family that serve as a touchstone for memories. My extensive research into self-portraiture, family albums, and women photographers reveals a deep collective need to make our personal narratives and memoirs a true representation of the past, which of course they can never be. In thinking about how to make sense of over 40 years of photographing my immediate family and self, I realized that the photographs I have exhibited were our “family album” made public, or perhaps the reverse, my “art” made useful within the domestic space. Future generations might look at them to reconstruct a story of their fore-bearers. Others might see something of their experience in them. The photographs are actual physical memories, evoking stories, truths and lies, all of which are ever changing depending on the reader’s perspective.
I continue to find the family to be a fascinating subject. Our children now are middle aged, the grandchildren are growing up, the parents are declining. Illness and accidents have reminded us that we are vulnerable to more and more losses. We are enjoying parts of the family we could not when we were young. We are looking very squarely at our own end…there won’t be another 30 years.
I continue to find the family to be a fascinating subject. Our children now are middle aged, the grandchildren are growing up, the parents are declining. Illness and accidents have reminded us that we are vulnerable to more and more losses. We are enjoying parts of the family we could not when we were young. We are looking very squarely at our own end…there won’t be another 30 years.