"We’re so conditioned to the syntax of the camera that we don’t realize that we are running on only half the visual alphabet....It’s what we see every day in the magazines, on billboards, and even on television. All those images are being produced basically the same way, through a lens and a camera. I’m saying there are many, many other ways to produce photographic imagery, and I would imagine that a lot of them have yet to be explored." — Adam Fuss
A nineteenth-century child's dress is carefully laid out for our viewing. Perhaps, because we are aware that it is a part of lost time, our thoughts go to its missing inhabitant—an ethereal presence, intricate to the weave of the fabric before us. And then there are the birds, scattering in a grey photographic dusk, soundless. Now, the mirrored surfaces of the daguerreotypes flicker before us, never completely giving up their secrets. In this body of work the artist essays loss and its attendant ghosts.
twin palms publishers march 2002 11 x 15 inches 64 pages 28 tritone & four-color plates
