On Wanting to See, the Invisible Jury, and Small Red Boxes: Notes on Making My Father's Portrait

When I look at these six images I see different things. I see the human face of time and its juxtapositions, that what looks and feels like a long life is a cipher. I see what looks like a man’s destiny and feels like a tragedy, emerging from a life left in more ways than one. I see a boy, a man, looking, for something. I wanted to see, he said. But what?  

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Nancy Brokaw and Frank Rodick talk about pixels, pickle-making, and the transition from analog to digital

One day, quite some time ago, I happened on a photograph of Napoleon's youngest brother, Jerome, taken in 1852. And I realized then, with an amazement I have not been able to lessen since: 'I am looking at eyes that looked at the Emperor.' (Nancy Brokaw, quoting Roland Barthes)  

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Everything Will Be Forgotten

A couple of years after finding the photos of my mother, I found more old photographs—small beaten up prints. They show me as a child, maybe four years old, standing naked in a bathtub. My father—it must have been my father—had taken them over half a century ago.  

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This Great Misfortune

With their air of cultured decay, the three images that make up I live there now serve as an elegy to the dream of an enlightened world. And more: like Poe’s short fictions, they lay bare the wreckage of a psyche: the interior (room) as a projection of the interior (soul). Tracing the decay of his father’s library, Rodick exposes the lie we tell ourselves about the edifice of civilization. (Nancy Brokaw)  

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