Our everyday behaviours and actions live on through our loved ones. Simple gestures, nostalgic moments cause us to reflect on our livelihood, constantly reminding us of shared histories. A mother’s hand soothes us at birth, calms us through storms, reassures us of our place and remains with us throughout our lifetime.
Through Gestures we encapsulate the tenderness of one’s touch, emotions expressed both gracefully and theatrically. Not a day goes by where I don’t look down at my hands and think of my mother. I see her hands in mine, I feel her presence in my gestures and everyday I’m thankful for her guidance and direction.
In Possessions, clothes remain as an ever-present reminder of who we are, we recognize them in context with the body. We are born and leave this earth wrapped in cloth. We identify clothes as a container for our body; they wrap around us, almost lovingly. Clothes protect us from the elements, they create a style, they intimately incorporate our very being, our smell, our sweat and our presence. Our clothes remain and stand as proof of our existence.
We desire clothes as we strive for a representation of who we are. We wear them proudly producing a certain character, telling a certain story. Our clothes frame our lives. These mundane everyday materials carry our aspirations, along with our body and spirit.
When we envisage a storage bag, the context changes, suddenly suggesting relocation, separation, abandonment or departing. We are present in the clothing, but now we have departed. The aliveness and vitality has left the material, these clothes now sit, empty, contained, waiting, anticipating a future. They become useless.
It’s the actions that I undertake that will exist physically as a video/photo, forever freezing that moment in time. Somehow making sense of life and death experiences.
Plastic storage bags, artist's mothers clothes, plinth, moth balls
photographer Grant Hancock