Through the Shadows: Beyond Words and Images, & 100 Butterflies, Mary West Quin
9/2 - 11/26/22
Beyond Words and Images, 2020 - 2022
Beyond words and images we have emotional responses, ways of seeing through an inner knowing, an inner vortex or kaleidoscope that informs what we see. It is said that experience within the family before the age of seven cements the fabric through which we see for our entire life. In this body of work, I attempt to give expression to the phenomenon of seeing, of being in this world. On the wall are prints of platinum palladium gestural strokes expressing the emotions of seeing. Suspended from the ceiling are balls sewn from shredded family work of 8x10 contact printed platinum palladium prints. The balls appropriately cast shadows on the emotions. On the ground are life sized human shaped mannequin legs covered with platinum palladium prints of appropriated images and headlines of world events. These images are ones that are generally universally recognizable, events we are all steeped in if only through the modern news cycle. These images are among those that become icons for world events whether specifically or of a type.
100 Butterflies: Prayer for Peace, 2015-2020
In spring of 2015, a kindergarten project brought butterfly larvae into our home. As a family we observed the natural process of hatching butterflies first hand, from eggs to caterpillars to chrysalises, finally emerging as butterflies that must learn to fly in order to survive.
The process made us much more conscious of the lives of butterflies whose migration was dependent on the elements, determination, and instinct.
The butterflies that did not survive were far too beautiful to be discarded. As a photographer, it occurred to me that these slightly translucent beings were perfect for contact printing; rather than photographing what I saw, I began to see their delicate bodies as negatives, placing them in direct contact with light-sensitive chemistry coated on paper.
At this time, the news cycle was filled with rhetoric about human migration, immigration and “the other”. Memorializing the butterflies by producing a photogram from their essence became a meditation, a koan, an act to stop the hateful dialogue that was becoming louder every day in the United States and other countries as well. And, the children would come home confused by “good people” calling mothers and children bad for seeking a safe place to live. Their naïve observations further grounded my intuitions about the state of our nation.
While printing I would search for understanding beyond hatred and anger. The concern for migration was not new, yet the violent rhetoric seemed to have taken on a new form. I would read and listen to various thinkers pondering such abhorrent ideas, yearning for the space beyond the dualities and opposition where we might meet as one, as humans. It seems many of us longed for the freedom of the liminal space these delicate beings find in the sky.
For some, borders are geographic. For others, it is an idea or a belief. With human migration being discussed in the news, our schools, and our homes, and the migration of the butterflies now part of our family dialogue we decided to travel to the National Butterfly Center in Mission, TX in the Rio Grande Valley along the Mexican American Border. Since beginning to print the butterflies, we have traveled multiple times not only to the Mexican American border but to the Canadian American border where butterflies freely navigate the organic boundaries of nature, but humans do not. Travel restrictions have limited further exploration.
As the project expands and evolves, questions of how we move through this world and survive remains at the core of my exploration. While migratory movement is a delicate balance, there is resilience at the core. In a world replete with division, the instinct to survive is something universally shared.
