Indelible: Virtual Photography Exhibition
SACI MFA in Photography students present Indelible, a virtual exploration of their fall 2020 photographic research.
Indelible, a virtual exhibition by students in the MFA in Photography program, can be viewed in an immersive, online viewing experience beginning December 14. Visitors can experience the works through an online tour or see individual works below.
An indelible mark or substance is impossible to remove by washing or in any other way.
Indelible memories or actions are impossible to forget, or have a permanent influence or effect.
When asked what title Lindsey, Marie-France, Rudransh, and Victor wanted to give their exhibition and one of them, all of a sudden, uttered with sober certainty: "indelible,” no one objected and each one commented with some surprise that this adjective could grasp the heart of their project.
Indelible is what cannot be erased from memory, which is why it is futile to try to remove it. Indelible is instead something worth coming to terms with, to be faced with memory and with its mirror, photography.
According to a certain commonplace idea, memory is the exact opposite of creativity, because things that are remembered already exist, whereas creativity is about what is new. But, since nothing comes from nothing, and since creativity is ars combinatoria and consists of new combinations of existing elements, memory is the place that makes it possible for the creative process to occur. Thus, memory concerns not only the near or remote past, but also about the present and the future.
Our past is always and exclusively our present (Stanislaw Brzokowski, Plomenie).
In Marie-France Robichaud's project, memory and its fragility are literally the theme of the research, faced with a triptych of altarpieces in which nature and its manifestations, rigid or fluid, metaphorically visualize our transient mnemonic palimpsest and the ever-changing relations we establish, in the course of our lives, with its declining presence. By observing her images and the diversity of visual metaphors and their combinations, one understands how memory is a complex system and that different types of memory exist, short-term and long-term, procedural, semantic, sensory, false and, at times, indelible.
Rudransh Nagi has long accepted the need to remember painful phases of his life. He knows that one of the greatest privileges of the narrator, if not the main one, is, thanks to the passion and commitment of the storytelling, to put oneself beyond the anguish of living, even if only for the duration of his story. He knows how rich an experience it can be to face a painful memory, to deconstruct it in order to represent it, to represent it in order to understand it and, finally, perhaps, to defuse it. Indelible but no longer threatening.
None of us will forget the year we are living, the pandemic, its victims and how much Covid has changed and will continue to change our way of life. Lindsey Campbell has reacted to the limitations to mobility, the obligation to maintain social distancing, which have forced each of us to reflect on gestures that were once instinctive and irresponsive. The emergency has slowed down and expanded our relationship with space and others. Time has assumed a leading role and with time the attention to the slightest changes, subtle shifts of perspective that waiting, previously ignored, has finally made perceptible.
Victor Restrepo has chosen to face as a witness the recovery from a pathology that has affected his perceptive faculties. Before surgery last year, he wondered whether the many ideas he had would escape his head. His then interlocutor replied that in this case others would replace them. This is what happened. As Berkeley and Borges wrote the taste of the apple is neither in the apple itself—the apple cannot taste itself—nor in the mouth of the eater. It requires a contact between them. Victor has observed with candor and quiet surprise the world that is born every day new before his glance, along the road he travels to the therapies that await him in the hospital, at home, during trips out of town. A diary rich in pages and questions, with no indication of days.
- Jacopo Santini & Romeo Di Loreto, MFA in Photography Program Directors
Stereoscopic photography was first invented as a means to create a three-dimensional image. It came about ten years after the invention of what we would consider “normal” photography in the form of two viewing cards and a special viewer to see them through. This later advanced to a full on camera with two lenses that take an image simultaneously. When put together, these two images create a full three dimensional image.
This effect can be mimicked in the digital age. People are constantly moving, and it’s truly a fascinating thing. If you stand in one place for more than two minutes, you really notice how people move around you. Take two photos. One first in a certain position, and then move the camera two inches to the left. There’s a two second time difference between the photos, but the visual differences are enormous. It makes it seem like even the people standing still are moving ever so slightly, just because they’re framed differently. Framing is all it really is.
Killing Myself (Self-Ekphrasis)
A single flash of light breaks the blackness in the images. The light creates a circle on the black ground which illuminates every object. The innocence of the toys like a tank which is broken and scratched or a brand new military airplane. The calming feeling of putting your head on a wrinkled pillow. The healing properties of an antiseptic plastic bottle. Taking a relaxing bath in a bathtub. Using a blade to cut paper for your projects. Tall towers like leaning tower of Pisa creating an unforgettable memory of a trip. For me, each of these objects had a different meaning. They are a symbolic representation of my thoughts. They represent the ways I thought of killing myself at the age 14 to 16.
Blackness in the images is a symbol of darkness I had in my life. The life was killing me and only light was to commit suicide. This struggle was part of my everyday life. These thoughts became more and more creative in those 2 years like joining the army or air force so that I get to die for my country and making my parents proud. Each line under the image shows the exact thought I used to have while contemplating to use one of the methods. Those were the soothing thoughts of killing myself.
The main theme of this artistic research is our relationship with time. More specifically, on how memory loss can be represented in different ways by appropriating geographic term ‘’erosions’’. Every natural area is subject to erosions; with time it changes whether the process is slow or fast. Ambivalence is a continuous on the hunt documentation of eroded landscape taken in the surrounding of Italy. By contemplating those dense landscapes, it is like trying to grasp a thought, to remember a thing or someone, as if it could appear in front of you in a form of a vision.
Not so much the journey, but a particular journey. The one I started in the summer of a year ago in Florence and which I am continuing now, in Bogotá. It is a journey of recovery and rediscovery, of what I thought I had lost and of my own vision.