48 South Street
Jamaica Plain, MA 02130
Who Will Remember Such Fine Times?
“In the face of great loss we all become mad. My particular madness manifests in a spiraling obsession to interpret the present photographically; to give everything around me a slice of immortality and immutability. The catalytic experience of losing my mother at a young age has lead to a practice of image making that is a strange combination of fear, love and curiosity.
My gaze has now turned to my father, whose madness takes root in the maintenance of 91 Grassmere St., the small cookie-cutter suburban structure that our family has called home. Over the past five-going-on-six years since he quit his job, my father has filled his days with a variety of domestic improvement projects. His present preoccupation is with the front lawn, the mood ring of suburban living. He is consumed with the appearance of order. We are both consumed with appearing to be okay.
This project is an attempt to construct a portrait of my father in all his complexities, analyzing his idiosyncrasies and details with the detachment of an anthropologist. Through the act of collaboration in creating images together, we are drawn closer. The camera acts as a mediator, allowing us to express ourselves without the limitations imposed by the appearances we both assume, creating a space for vulnerability and communication which has been absent from our relationship. Together, we are both trying to cultivate a physical, evidential record of our healing, our growth, our survival. Our lives, without her.”
Julia Hopkins is a Boston-based artist and photojournalist originally from Warwick, Rhode Island. She received her B.A. in Studio Art from Boston College in May 2019. She makes photographs surrounding the themes memory, family, and identity and frequently works in the book format.
For more of Julia’s work, visit: www.jhphotos.net
Who Will Remember Such Fine Times?
“In the face of great loss we all become mad. My particular madness manifests in a spiraling obsession to interpret the present photographically; to give everything around me a slice of immortality and immutability. The catalytic experience of losing my mother at a young age has lead to a practice of image making that is a strange combination of fear, love and curiosity.
My gaze has now turned to my father, whose madness takes root in the maintenance of 91 Grassmere St., the small cookie-cutter suburban structure that our family has called home. Over the past five-going-on-six years since he quit his job, my father has filled his days with a variety of domestic improvement projects. His present preoccupation is with the front lawn, the mood ring of suburban living. He is consumed with the appearance of order. We are both consumed with appearing to be okay.
This project is an attempt to construct a portrait of my father in all his complexities, analyzing his idiosyncrasies and details with the detachment of an anthropologist. Through the act of collaboration in creating images together, we are drawn closer. The camera acts as a mediator, allowing us to express ourselves without the limitations imposed by the appearances we both assume, creating a space for vulnerability and communication which has been absent from our relationship. Together, we are both trying to cultivate a physical, evidential record of our healing, our growth, our survival. Our lives, without her.”
Julia Hopkins is a Boston-based artist and photojournalist originally from Warwick, Rhode Island. She received her B.A. in Studio Art from Boston College in May 2019. She makes photographs surrounding the themes memory, family, and identity and frequently works in the book format.
For more of Julia’s work, visit: www.jhphotos.net