evocations

What do you remember? No really, what do you actually remember? What do you see when you remember? Is your memory a full multi-sensory experience? How clear are your memories? Do you recall them in great detail? What does memory mean to you? How do you preserve your memory?

Memory- the mental capacity or faculty of retaining and reviving facts, events, impressions, etc., or of recalling or recognizing previous experiences.

For the most part, I have to say that I don’t remember much. I am 24 years old, and I’m fairly sure I’ve lost memory of almost half of my life. This is not to say that I have extreme memory loss. I may be able to attribute some lapses to trauma, many of those lapses can be attributed to lack of documentation. Overall, there is meaning extracted from what we recall throughout our lives. Moments that are worthwhile are able to rise to the forefront of our consciousness.  I question everyday about human’s preservation of memory. As an artist, a part of my drive is to capture just that: memories. 

Taking pictures seems to give humans a cheat code. Often, having the visual of a particular moment in time serves as the perfect bookmark to this grand story we call life. Many people are drawn to photography in particular because memory fades but images don’t. I believe that we have the ability to single-handedly preserve every pertinent moment in our life by holding a camera alone. Photographers function as the world’s greatest historians, storytellers, and protectors of memory. In a sense, photographers act as timekeepers. 

What is a wedding without the pictures? Do you have a picture of you and a lover of your past that still stirs emotions? How can we honor the memory of our loved ones who have transitioned on, without a tangible reference? In a sense, photography aids people in preserving the intangible. If we could truly see our memories, things like memory loss and memory fabrication could be lessened over time. This is the function of the photograph. A single still can hold an entire world in it. 

A picture has the power to place you in that room again. Taking in the image, and all that it has to offer, can lead to you hearing, smelling, and feeling the environment: a heightening of senses. Viewer and subject interact. Look at the image long enough and you may notice your reality and the reality in frame start to merge. In a fraction of a second you can capture it all. Any image captured becomes a precise reference to a moment in time. This allows memory to be reinforced by a legitimate primary source.

Most of my memories are associated with an image, however usually it is not an image that I can clearly see. It becomes an amalgamation of multiple images, which can simply result in what I remember the most. Sometimes a static, blurred recollection of the particular image can surface. I try to take advantage of what and how I reminisce. To remember where we came from, where we are, and where we are going helps us orient ourselves in this chaotic world.

Most people may not know that I am adopted. I have very little recollection of my birth family. Fortunately, there was a hidden timekeeper who captured the very beginning of my journey: my mother holding me as a newborn. Conjuring up imagery of my birth family, the only things I am truly able to cling to are the photographs. Despite my lack of knowledge, every time I look at the few pictures I do have, it gives me the feeling that I am a part of a larger legacy unbeknown to me. It matters. It matters deeply. The truth is that inevitably memories do decay. However, documenting life in images will lead to a more accurate preservation of our present, past, and future.

Below you see my attempt to preserve memories most pertinent to me. However, the difference between this and my usual work is that I have taken a completely opposite approach to doing so. This was all shot on 120mm and 35mm film during the pandemic. All of the images are blurred. All of the images leave room for interpretation. The only people who truly know what is going on in the picture are myself, and the people I captured. Very fitting, because despite the blurriness of the images (memory), the only people who have the ability to sharpen them are the ones who were present. Even more interesting is that each individual has a unique perspective. So while you see scenes from my point of view, remember that others may see the same thing completely differently. In fact, everyone has a different perspective.

The art of the photograph is that it allows individuals to highlight their view on the world.  Whereas, I usually strive to capture the clearest, sharpest, perfectly exposed image, I wanted to communicate the ambiguity of memory itself and the beauty within that. You gain an appreciation for living in the present when you realize that all of these things will eventually fade. I see myself beginning to become an archivist of my own memories. I challenge others to become the same.