conspiracy of silence
Conspiracy of Silence 2011-2012
Photographs (series of 5)
How could these few things on the table before us, arrayed against the dark, glow with such fierce warmth?
Through photography I am currently exploring the capacity of an object to carry meaning, to serve as a vessel for our lives. Still lifes, ultimately, poignant, are anything but lifeless. They have lost their contexts, all of their narrative, the attached human stories that would have placed them in some specific relation to a life, but they are nonetheless full of that life, bathed with light, and suffused with intimacy.
The still life images are compositions in which the terms are reduced, and their import seems to lie not in plenty but in the poetry of relation: here are harmonies and gradations of texture, of color, of light; degrees of reflectivity, the way each of these elements responds to light’s lavish attentions. The important event in the distance has vanished; the event is the here and now. Plain abundance. There is no background information in these images at all, simply a lustrous dark space. It is warm neutrality that brings things in the foreground to startling life.
The secret subject of these images is what they resist. What they deny is also the underlying force behind this body of work. Here intimacy seems to confront its opposite, which is the vastness of time. Everything is fleeting, but here, for now, these citizens of the great community of the disappearing hang, for a term, suspended.
Objects placed right next to us, in absolute intimacy, yet unknowable. Full of history, but their history is mute; full of associations with particular people, moments, gestures, emotions, and all those associations unavailable now, nothing left of them but a residue, as if accumulated feeling could dissipate into the air, into a haze of vapor of human presence. Intimacy and distance at once, allow us to be both here and gone.
I am learning to accept the flux and revision of time, but I am also learning to love what I wish to keep the same, something that nothing in my life has taught me until now; learning, that is, not to let go but to hold on.