ARTIST STATEMENT
As many creative ideas go, this one has had many theories of incarnation and ended up quite differently than the original plan. I chose to let my inspiration and gratefulness from this box of slides guide me through self-exploration and self-reflection as opposed to a more literal homage to the images I found. When I photograph people for assignments or personal work, I tend to tell their stories by placing them in their workspace or home or other important location. I felt that my newly found connection made me think twice about who I am with and without my father’s physical presence. I turned the camera on myself and made me the assignment. The items of clothing are some of the last remaining physical pieces to his memory.
This is the second series I’ve completed in memoriam and I know I will continue to revisit this. Thank you for taking the time to share in this emotion and renewal with me.
As many creative ideas go, this one has had many theories of incarnation and ended up quite differently than the original plan. I chose to let my inspiration and gratefulness from this box of slides guide me through self-exploration and self-reflection as opposed to a more literal homage to the images I found. When I photograph people for assignments or personal work, I tend to tell their stories by placing them in their workspace or home or other important location. I felt that my newly found connection made me think twice about who I am with and without my father’s physical presence. I turned the camera on myself and made me the assignment. The items of clothing are some of the last remaining physical pieces to his memory.
This is the second series I’ve completed in memoriam and I know I will continue to revisit this. Thank you for taking the time to share in this emotion and renewal with me.
DAD STATEMENT
My Dad was a good dad. At the time of his death I was only beginning to understand what that meant or could mean for a child. I took him for granted the last few years he was alive and distanced myself for months at a time, mostly out of teenage anxiety and awkwardness. The last few months we had begun to reconnect, but that was soon cut short.
Last year, sixteen years after his death, I opened a box that I’d been carrying around with me for the last ten years. I knew it contained his slides and I knew it would take a certain amount of strength and energy to sort through them. Having seen his outtakes of macro shots of flowers and telephoto shots of birds, I was not expecting much. What I did find was serene landscape after landscape and whimsical documentary style portraits that reminded me of my own work. I was taken aback for hours, pouring through and organizing this mass of history. I also came across images my Grandfather took. Turns out he was into photography as well. And as genetics might have it, we have a remarkably similar portrait style.
So here I was, twelve years after beginning my photography career that seemed to be borne out of the blue and I find out it runs in the family. To add to the coincidence, while in photo school, I chose a square format camera to buy, which I now see was my Grandfather’s format of choice as well as much of what I found of my Dad’s. I had named it Sydney after my Dad; that was 1996. Sydney just so happens to be my Grandfather’s name too.
I am embracing this feeling of being connected to the Loeser side of my family through creative vision. To know that this is innate and hereditary is such a grounding feeling. I know much less about this side of my family than the other and I’ve been given a true connection that I can draw on even without having them physically here. It’s as if they are pulling for me to kick some serious photographic ass in the Loeser name.
These are some of my favourite photos from Dad’s box of slides.
My Dad was a good dad. At the time of his death I was only beginning to understand what that meant or could mean for a child. I took him for granted the last few years he was alive and distanced myself for months at a time, mostly out of teenage anxiety and awkwardness. The last few months we had begun to reconnect, but that was soon cut short.
Last year, sixteen years after his death, I opened a box that I’d been carrying around with me for the last ten years. I knew it contained his slides and I knew it would take a certain amount of strength and energy to sort through them. Having seen his outtakes of macro shots of flowers and telephoto shots of birds, I was not expecting much. What I did find was serene landscape after landscape and whimsical documentary style portraits that reminded me of my own work. I was taken aback for hours, pouring through and organizing this mass of history. I also came across images my Grandfather took. Turns out he was into photography as well. And as genetics might have it, we have a remarkably similar portrait style.
So here I was, twelve years after beginning my photography career that seemed to be borne out of the blue and I find out it runs in the family. To add to the coincidence, while in photo school, I chose a square format camera to buy, which I now see was my Grandfather’s format of choice as well as much of what I found of my Dad’s. I had named it Sydney after my Dad; that was 1996. Sydney just so happens to be my Grandfather’s name too.
I am embracing this feeling of being connected to the Loeser side of my family through creative vision. To know that this is innate and hereditary is such a grounding feeling. I know much less about this side of my family than the other and I’ve been given a true connection that I can draw on even without having them physically here. It’s as if they are pulling for me to kick some serious photographic ass in the Loeser name.
These are some of my favourite photos from Dad’s box of slides.
THE SHOW
DAD'S SLIDES
IN THE GALLERY
"BOX OF SLIDES"
CORE Gallery
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
SEPTEMBER 2011
CORE Gallery
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
SEPTEMBER 2011