Known for her playful take on still life and fashion image making, here she turns her eye to a make believe domestic setting, using her son as the main character.
“For the past few years I have been making pictures with my son. It’s a way for to us communicate with each other (and a break from the alternative, which is sitting next to him while he plays Goat Simulator 3). I am a collector of things in my work and life, so I wanted to explore the accumulation of childhood detritus in domestic life and the landfill it creates. The project began when I found a post-it note by my son’s bed: Ask Alexa When are we all gonna die tomorrow :). He often writes notes to remind himself of tasks for the next day, as he sometimes struggles to remember things. Yet he remembers the exact buttons on a coat I was wearing when he threw up spaghetti in a cinema five years ago. There is a tension in this note between fear of forgetting and existential dread.”
The resulting images are a collection of strange domestic snapshots; a series of experiments, subverting the tropes of photographing home life and childhood. The book includes a poem by the writer Miranda Collinge, Annie’s sister.
Details:
– 145mm × 200mm
– 108 pages
– Foiled hardcover, swiss bound, Die-cut reveal pages
– First edition of 200, with signed print, hand numbered
Known for her playful take on still life and fashion image making, here she turns her eye to a make believe domestic setting, using her son as the main character.
“For the past few years I have been making pictures with my son. It’s a way for to us communicate with each other (and a break from the alternative, which is sitting next to him while he plays Goat Simulator 3). I am a collector of things in my work and life, so I wanted to explore the accumulation of childhood detritus in domestic life and the landfill it creates. The project began when I found a post-it note by my son’s bed: Ask Alexa When are we all gonna die tomorrow :). He often writes notes to remind himself of tasks for the next day, as he sometimes struggles to remember things. Yet he remembers the exact buttons on a coat I was wearing when he threw up spaghetti in a cinema five years ago. There is a tension in this note between fear of forgetting and existential dread.”
The resulting images are a collection of strange domestic snapshots; a series of experiments, subverting the tropes of photographing home life and childhood. The book includes a poem by the writer Miranda Collinge, Annie’s sister.
Details:
– 145mm × 200mm
– 108 pages
– Foiled hardcover, swiss bound, Die-cut reveal pages
– First edition of 200, with signed print, hand numbered
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