The photograph: the family album, as well as the autobiographical photographic portrait function as ephemeral, spectral, re-creations or sites of memory. These images act as a trigger or flashback of the seemingly real as well as the not so distant past. In photo documents I see an uncanny tension between the real and the unreal, and what is preserved and erased. The lasting images of our childhoods and families linger in the present, and become haunting memorials. As time persists, and through the photograph�s ephemeral presence, the individuals represented continue for a certain time to survive in a world they no longer belong to. Photographic images left behind in print and albums become the spectral remains of real events, and living people--and the photograph itself becomes the site for the emergence of memories.
It is a process of empowerment to document both the good and the bad times in our lives. We are often told to forget about our problems and struggles-- whereas it could be empowering and useful to document through the process of creative image making the fragmented experiences of out lived reality. The images we collect in albums are so often not the real images of how we perceive our selves, or do not necessarily signify the important life altering moments which we face. I would suggest that these images in albums and scrap books have been taken by other family members or friends, and are framed and taken at a specific picturesque moment in time. Through the creation of autobiographic images, and photography, one is able to explore their own representation. Through creating images, and keeping a certain level of control over this process, moments in our lives which are kept behind closed doors can be shared, explored, and acknowledged. These images stand, and live on through the spectral technology of photographic and filmic documentation. In this sense the photograph stands as monument of the memories associated with the person, event, and moment of which is represented. These images of our lives become the real life stories, and strength building apparatuses which sustain our subjectivities.
By Sarah Parrish
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