The roomsRoom IV
Faces That Stayed
Portraits of elders, and the years they carry
Our elders are the last people who remember certain songs, certain streets, certain names. I asked each of them to sit with me and tell me about the happiest day of their life, and I made the portrait while they were remembering it.
Baba, Remembering 1964
He was describing the morning he first saw the sea. Halfway through the sentence, he stopped talking and just looked.
Mama Esohe
Her happiest day was an ordinary market day when all six children came home at once without telling her.
What She Carries
She brought something to hold for the portrait and would not tell me what it was. I did not ask again.
The Tailor
Sixty years of sewing wedding clothes. He says he can still tell which couples will last by how they stand for a fitting.
Looking Down, Looking Back
He spoke about his late wife for an hour. This is the only frame where he was not speaking.
Headscarf, Late Light
The last portrait of the evening. The light was going and she said, kindly, that it had been going for years.
Behind the series
Every face in this room was photographed in the middle of a memory. That is why some are smiling at nothing I can see.
I print these portraits large so they can be looked at the way they deserve: slowly, and up close.
