What are photographs if loved ones become strangers in them, if photographs become incomplete relics of memory? New York-based photographer Jordanna Kalman revisits and undoes the photographs she took, stripping each memory away from the print.
Kalman photographs in analogue. Having grown up with a darkroom at her home, it was clear to her that photography was going to be her calling.
We humans are walking entities of stories, of emotions, loss and complicated relationships.
Kalman's "Sometimes (memory version)", is a revision, an update of personal history. She removes the figures she took in her old photographs, a representation of how her memories of these people are already fading away, as well as a symbol of her mother's passing -- which now turned into the series "Invisible".
Her oeuvre, however, is not a work of portraiture, or even self-portraiture -- it is an pseudo-diaristic, intimate document of lost faces.
Time and memories fade, people and photographs don't. But Kalman reverses the nature of these elements in her photography. It is in Kalman's process, where photography becomes a stream of consciousness.
Await for our interview with Jordanna soon. In the meantime, visit her other works on analogue photography in her website.