By Suzanne Révy and Elin Spring
Four years of Executive Office bullying and abhorrent rhetoric have led to a rise in hate crimes and violence against minority groups, exemplified last month by the Atlanta mass shooting of six Asian American women. Institutional racism and personal prejudice have deep roots in this country, especially during times of conflict. In a shameful act dating back to WWII, our government rounded up and relocated Japanese American citizens to internment camps. Jerry Takigawa’s tragically relevant installation Balancing Cultures addresses this disruption in the lives of his own interred family. Claudia Ruiz Gustafson explores an immigrant’s experience of dislocation in her work Historias fragmentadas, while in Anonymous, Edie Bresler reimagines the personal history of unknown sitters found in antique portraits. All three artists employ vernacular snapshots and collage to create layered visual dialogs that resonate with the personal and political tensions that ebb and flow through our culture. In a moving and cohesive presentation, these exhibitions will be on view at the Griffin Museum of Photography in Winchester, MA through May 23rd, 2021.
In Balancing Cultures, Jerry Takigawa uses a family archive of snapshots that he throws gently out of focus and then overlays with objects such as scrabble tiles, ID cards, newspaper clippings and leaves. His assembled photographs draw agonizing associations between subjective experience and the ill-conceived public policies that violently removed thousands from their homes. In a statement, he points out that “race” is a social construct with no basis in genetics, yet it was used worldwide as an excuse to lock up and kill millions of people during WWII. While the pictures in Balancing Cultures are an indictment of these policies, they are also a celebration of the strength and reverence for the legacy quietly passed down through three generations of Takigawa’s family.
Scrabble tiles hint at family game nights, but the relocation cards and newspaper headlines underscore an ominous threat that disrupted lives. In “Looking Like the Enemy” Takigawa juxtaposes the black and white portrait of a young woman with several cards and papers that— shockingly— read “Jap Hunting License” which underscore the overt racism of the early 20th century. In a more subtle work, “Staying Silent,” a young couple with two small children is paired with pictures of elder relatives whose stern gazes allude to more insidious psychological wounds. The word “GAMAN,” meaning “enduring the seemingly unbearable with patience and dignity,” is spelled out with scrabble tiles and we learn that Takigawa did not truly understand the political and social context of his family’s internment camp experience until he stumbled upon a box of photographs following the death of his mother. Balancing Cultures is rich in symbolism, like the fan-shaped leaves of the Ginkgo biloba tree. One of the oldest living organisms on earth, Ginkgos represent endurance and longevity. In fact, six such trees survived the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and still stand there today, endowing the leaves and Takigawa’s work with a palpable sense of generational continuity in the face of dramatic disruptions of racism and war.
In Historias Fragmentadas (Fragmented Stories), Claudia Ruiz Gustafson creates collaged images that bring together the disjointed nature of memories with the lonesome dislocation the artist felt upon immigrating from Peru to the United States. In her intimate assemblages, Ruiz Gustafson comingles visual cues such as vintage family photographs and letters with current self-portraits and journal entries along with emblematic objects, crafting mysterious and evocative scenarios that allude to the bittersweet transitions in her life.
With uncluttered elegance, symbols abound in artfully arranged compositions. In one, bright red yarn encircles a young Ruiz and her grandfather, representing not only their loving connection but a Peruvian protection from evil, while in another frame, a single thread is a bloodline between generations. Mounted salon-style in conversant clusters, Ruiz Gustafson’s photographs are a spiritual alchemy of her fractured sense of home, longing for assimilation and the emergence of an identity that ultimately bridges two cultures.
In her uplifting series Anonymous, Edie Bresler transports the nameless subjects of antique nude studio portraits across time and space in an imaginative “gesture of renewal and second chances.” Using archival methods such as Cyanotype and Van Dyke Brown in combination with modern scanning techniques, Bresler relocates her subjects from their anonymity into enchanting fantasy narratives. She dresses each nude with hand-embroidered finery, decorating them and their new surroundings with glittery threads and eye-catching sequins.
These formerly vulnerable subjects reclaim a sense of agency as Bresler reinvents each as a “kind of descendant” of their former selves. Often, she “dislocates” individual characters in alternate costumes and scenes, as in “Four Seasons,” or as entirely different incarnations, bestowing each with a new legacy. Her gentle browns and azure cyanotypes levitate subjects into a celestial stratosphere that feels transcendent. Bresler’s magical reinventions of appropriated subjects encourages us to ask who owns history and to reflect on the power of photography to imagine displacement with resilience and optimism.
For more information go to: https://griffinmuseum.org