AGE: 24
BASED IN: New York
NOMINATED BY: Justine Kurland
I'm trying to position my pictures in a post-utopian attempt. What happens when the dream world dissolves and we must face our past creation, to make it work for us? To survive, you only have what is at arm's reach. My hope is that my photographs can become mirrors to each other, or ghosts of one another, so that the objects, places, things, people I photograph can morph into others. A shutter release turns into the cord wrapped around her body, restricting her. The pit of the car turns into the bed she lies in.
I really enjoy working in a visual world that doesn't rely on what a portrait looks like. A picture of my naked mother can be as much about my birth as an armpit draped in bedding. I guess the question I ask is: if photography is not to show the real, or keep the moment forever, can I photograph somebody who is meant to be somebody else?
I've always struggled [with] participating in utopic imagery. People are quick to use this kind of language when speaking about queer work—the imagined world, the fantasy out of reach and out of harm's way, which I think is vital, but did not suit me. I want to photograph a rebuilding of a world that relied on the mechanical—materials and objects made to survive us. I feel like that's the world I can imagine, the world I can build off of. I photograph people in my reach, very rarely do I photograph people I don't have relationships with. I don't stay interested very long and I tend to project meaning. Inevitably, that leads to my relationships being part of the image, and my history as well.
