As far back as I can remember, I’ve been creating work on found objects. My mother, who was an artist in her own right, discouraged following the linear dictates of coloring books and offered up all kinds of materials. She encouraged me to construct and make things up on my own. And thus developed an artistic practice that has persisted through my life.
Fast forward to the year 2014: at the ripe awesome age of 55, I found myself at a collage party. Our host, Stacy Waldman , a respected vernacular photo dealer, gave us a treasure trove of discarded pictures to work from. Among the photographic goodies were boxes full of original cabinet cards from the late 1800’s. Those long dead souls peered out from their frozen moments and cast a spell on me.
In a sense, I let them speak to me. Using these discarded portraits as my jumping off point, I let each photo dictate which direction to go. The subject is greatly considered (as well as the original photographer). I look carefully into their face, posture, chosen attire, backdrop etc. that’s why I rarely paint over the face. I want the human in there to remain with us, even though they were lost or forgotten. Though they may be dosed with heaps of peculiarity, I have much reverence for them. They speak to me of time, the limits of time, love, family and relations.
These images from lives past were once cherished and photographed for posterity and now somehow have fallen int my hands. Maybe to shake a little more life back into them. Give them a second chance at the dance we’ve got going on this planet. Let them do some more work, maybe cause the observer to smile or scratch their head - whose own portrait one day may wind up in the ethers and jostled int some stranger’s hand.
-Amy Johnquest.
from her book 'Altered Ancestors'
2018.