Herstory
The photographic body of work Through Her is an extended portrait of my youngest daughter, Ava. Over the last few years, following an equally lengthy period during which I was critically ill, we have discovered each other in a sort of profound way. It was an “I almost lost you” wake-up call. We have become everyday companions, living/working/laughing/arguing together, and our photo shoots are some of the best (and most intense) times we’ve ever had. For me, all of this began on a day when, out of frustration, we had given up on working together. Once we overcame that affecting drama, we produced our best pictures to date. By examining my life, myself through her, I prove my own value, my strengths, my accomplishments, my tenacity for life, and my artistic worth.
This body of work does three things simultaneously: it questions the extent to which the “essence” of any one person can ever be photographically captured; it negotiates the sometimes-complicated relationships between mother/daughter and photographer/muse; and it addresses issues of self-esteem and self-worth, particularly as they relate to women, and how photography as an art form, can mend the artist’s self-doubts. Though these ideas can never be one-size-fits-all, they do invite and welcome audience consideration.
Through Her Artist’s Statement
Through her, I am living life over again. I am young, I am beautiful, I am vibrant. I am also doubtful of everything I know, everything I say, everything I do, the pain is real. It has to be, I see it in her eyes, I feel it in my heart. Yet in the very next moment, we are laughing till our sides ache…
As the mother of this wonderful young woman, I have tried to assure her that she can do anything, she is so much more than I ever was. She, in turn, doubts she can ever do what I have done.
I study her; she has her entire life ahead of her. So much time to do, to become, to be. In my mind, I can get another chance, through her. By loving her, by valuing her, by proving that we spent this time together, I assure myself that I have worth, as a woman, as a mother, as a friend, as an artist.
If I slow down time, if I savor each sunset, each day and it’s golden light, it’s reflections, it’s shadows, can I keep her longer? Can I exist forever in these fleeting moments?
Extension to Artist’s Statement
Looking at the work this thoroughly, I’ve had some realizations about what it all means, to me, to Ava. What it might mean to an outside viewer…
I think doubting one’s abilities, one’s worth, one’s talents, and one’s attractiveness is a timeless fear that affects many women. We tell ourselves, look at you, you’re great, but we have these moments of doubt. All of my doubts about who I am and what I have left to my children became greatly magnified a couple years ago when I nearly died from pneumonia and complications from a rare bacteria. The incident changed my life: I remain a cancer patient (in remission) with a deeply changed outlook on life.
Having children, you try to assure them, and reassure them, of all that they are, have become, will become. What is it in particular about being a woman, a mother…a daughter which makes one fear and fret, and never feel deep comfort, deep satisfaction in oneself?
What we, Ava and I, are doing, every time strive to build on this body of work, is validate each other’s self worth. I prove to Ava---through these images, and my attention to everything about her---how talented, how beautiful, how truly rare and exceptional she is, and she, through our time together, proves to me that: I am valuable; I am an artist too. I am capable of creating work that has meaning.