In the Still Spaces

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Softly slumbering,

I dream of silent spaces

Echoes long before

***

I have a bit of an “object affection”: a certain affinity for things because they represent something sentimental, or sometimes, something practical. If I’m lucky, they’re a bit of both. Take for instance the twin-lens reflex camera sitting on my shelf in “the cat room” (aka my office). It’s a neat item I found at an antique store that represents my interest in photography. At the same time (as far as I can tell), it appears to be fully functional. Then there’s the kitschy cat lamp sitting beside the office futon. It appeals to my crazy cat lady sensibilities, and behold! It glows! One of my favorite objects is an ashtray shaped like a gloved hand. Although I don’t smoke, the hand can hold jewelry or become a convenient artistic prop for things like still life.

Recently I asked my mother if she had any interesting objects that I could borrow to practice still life photography. When all was said and done, I had at least four boxes of dolls, jewelry, depression glassware, and little objets d’art loaded into the back of my car. Although some of these objects were found at stores or in antique shops, many of them  held sentimental value. I came to realize, as I was arranging and rearranging them, that really, they were a piece of my family’s history. More specifically, they were a reflection of the women in my family and their own object affections, which mirrored things they were interested in, placed they’d been, or things that they did.

I also realized that I was not interested in photographing these nostalgic pieces in a high-key fashion in a light tent, but preferred to employ shadow and light to evoke a somber mood. Therefore, these images are made with a technique called light painting. It basically involves a long exposure, in the dark, and the lighting is provided by a diffused flashlight. It can be a lot of fun but also requires a lot of patience. So this is an ongoing project; I expect I’ll be at it for a few more months yet.

***

“Polly”

When I was a child, I used to refer to this doll as “Polly.” She belonged to my mother as a child, and I have no idea what she was named then. The dress she is wearing was knitted by my grandmother, who knitted all kinds of clothes for the dolls. She also embroidered tablecloths, pillowcases and handkerchiefs.

“Costume jewelry”

I used to love looking at my grandmother’s costume jewelry. She had quite a collection. Lots of shiny, colorful beads, which she would pair with a nice dress when she went out. I always thought my grandmother bought it from Avon, but apparently my grandfather would give her this jewelry as presents on special occasions since she loved it so much.

“Formosa”

My grandfather was stationed in Taiwan, and his family came with him. While they were there, my great grandmother passed away. The small picture is a scene from her funeral.

“Cross”

My great-grandmother Rasmussen’s cross was passed down to me from my Aunt Alice. Someday I will pass it on to her granddaughter, Rosie.

“Oma”

I met my paternal great-grandmother when I was very young. This was the only name I knew her by. It is German for “grandma.” Oma lived in a small house with a wooden floor. I seem to recall it looking like a tin shack on the outside…or maybe it just had a tin roof. She was also an accomplished sewer: she would make patchwork quilts. She also hand-sewed this doll:

“Time”

There’s a lot of interesting history with the women on my father’s side of the family. One of my great (great) grandmothers, Sarah, was kind of a rebel. She was apparently kicked out of the church for dancing. So she started her own church in her living room! My other great grandmother timed trains in an age when women didn’t do that sort of thing. This was her pocket watch:

You may have noticed that flowers are prominent in these images. Not only are they an additional touch of the feminine, but my grandparents on both sides of the family, as well as my parents, were avid gardeners. My father’s parents had a greenhouse and vegetable plot. We would eat fresh spinach from their garden at the table. My maternal grandmother was a city girl, growing up in Brooklyn NY. She gardened mainly in pots in her backyard. I remember she gave me pink polka dot plants, long before they were sold in garden shops as a variety called “splash.”

“Flora”

I think I have inherited a certain love of beauty, especially in flowers, although my thumb for gardening is conspicuously absent. I certainly love to photograph them, as well as precious objects in the still, quiet spaces.