Inheriting The Silence
silver gelatin prints on glass, black aluminum and paper, installation
various sizes
silver gelatin prints on glass, black aluminum and paper, installation
various sizes
Project brings together seven silver gelatin prints on 4×5" glass plates and six tintypes
silver gelatin images on black-coated aluminum. The glass plates hold archival images of early motherhood, while the aluminum works show screenshots of missile strikes, phosphorus bombs, and explosions.
silver gelatin images on black-coated aluminum. The glass plates hold archival images of early motherhood, while the aluminum works show screenshots of missile strikes, phosphorus bombs, and explosions.
I grew up with the stories of those who came before me, but also with the gaps inside them. Some things were spoken about. Others were softened, avoided, or left unnamed. I did not understand then how deeply these silences were shaping me, my sense of safety, the choices I made, and the way I saw the world.
Pain does not disappear when it is left unspoken. It finds other ways to surface, sometimes generations later. Silence can be a form of protection, but it can also erase what happened, leaving the next generation to carry something it cannot name.
Now I think about what I am passing on to my child. I want to protect him from the pain that came before us and from the violence of the present, but I am no longer sure that protection can come through silence.
I hold my son and wonder what can be healed, what will remain, and what will become part of his story. Perhaps the question is not how to keep the past from reaching him, but how to face it without allowing it to define his future.
Dedicated to my son, Levi, who makes it all matter.
Installation view, August Studios, Vancouver, Canada, 2024
