In June of 2012, a few weeks after I was accepted to the University of Texas at Austin, my father suddenly passed away due to diabetes. Nine months after my father died, my mother was diagnosed with brain cancer and subsequently passed, three years later, in February of 2016. My work is dedicated to my parents, and I will continue to explore their memory throughout my career.
My interest in photography drove me to document and preserve the photographs my parents collected of our family. I began by gathering specific pictures my father had taken during his service in the Vietnam War. I digitally retouched and cataloged the albums, film slides, and official documents he stored away. I displayed chronological arrangements of his photographs as well as created printed books that treated the photographs as found and untouched images.
As I interpreted my father's photographs, I realized how his experiences influenced my experiences. I found that by digitally removing the scratches from the images and color correcting the images, I was altering the read and subsequently changing how I recalled the original photograph; I was effectively erasing the part of the image I had grown attached to. Later, I felt that I was in some way working in collaboration with my father; as my work was somehow born from his work.
I created a short series of images I titled Fusion, which explored the concept of genetic memory by digitally combining his and my photographs. I either directly joined the images with minimal digital alteration, or I blurred the distinction between both images so that the audience would not easily identify the digital alteration. In this way, I began to slow or speed the read of the image.
During my work with restoring old photographs, I became aware of color deterioration. I found that most old photographs were overly magenta or too green which required, respectively, green and magenta to color balance the photos. Later, I used green and magenta as a theme in a series of print-based images.
In a short series I titled Legacy, I collected objects my father had left for me and photographed them. I created screen prints of these objects, photographed the printed images, and then digitally manipulated the photo to distort the image further; creating a layered effect.
I repeated the process I used in Legacy in a new series titled Engram. Engram is the term for the theoretical process of the physical or biochemical function by which memory is stored. While sifting through the photo albums my parents had amassed, I found writing from both my mother and father. I ultimately incorporated a poem my father had written into the series.
In addition to the multi-step process of creating images, I added digital photographs that were corrupted within my camera’s memory card. I later used this aspect of data corruption for a digital video project, dedicated to my mother, titled Data Loss. The video utilized a genre called glitch art. By placing images into a text file, I was able to read the image. I could physically remove entire lines of code that would completely alter the original image. I had the freedom to add words, remove words, replace commands, or ultimately corrupt the file so that it was no longer viewable; I was essentially a virus within the image.
The work that followed is titled Of Father and Of Mother. I incorporated 5.25” floppy disks, which are antiquated and obsolete. Clear-vinyl printed images allow transparency to further the aspect of distortion and fading memory. I incorporated specific nostalgic themes in each of the pieces. In these pieces, I was primarily focused on creating visual narratives that branched from or possibly clouded a particular train of thought.
As I became more informed about my mother’s condition, I began to explore the aspect of memory distortion and the removal of memory and data. Additionally, since my mother’s language was most affected, I examined the aspect of visual language and strained cognition. I began a chemical process that requires protective equipment as the chemicals are toxic. The process incorporates image transfer, resulting in a kind of ink-bleed effect that slightly distorts the original image. Through this process, I explore the way natural memories are effectually subsequent revisions of source material and the way in which digital memory has seemingly supplemented or replaced natural memory.