Chapter 7, Untitled #10, I Pray for Your Spirit X, Jessica hines, My brother's war
Panas holds degrees from Boston College, the School of Visual Arts, and New York University and received an independent study fellowship from the Whitney Museum.
She has photographed for The New York Times and exhibited in the US and abroad. Her book The Mark of Abel was named one of Photo District News Books of 2012 as well as best coffee table book by the Daily Beast. She has been invited to teach classes and lecture in various colleges and venues, including the Museum of Modern Art, Lafayette, Muhlenberg, Ce dar Crest, Moravian, and others.
Panas lives in Kutztown, Pennsylvania
A Project Statement for her series Only Child (!)
" When he was five, his daddy was hanged for murder. When he was six, his mother left him on the steps of the orphanage. Later, when he was much older, he tried to kill himself...and when it didn’t work the first time...he tried it again. This lost boy became my dad, and I was his only child. He was my first love...the man against whom I measured all others. It is only now, eight years after his death that I have come to understand how much my sense of ‘normal’ was colored by my dad’s dysfunctional past. My childhood was a study in duality. Our relationship was a complex two-step, and I was never quite sure who was leading. After his two suicide attempts, the dynamic changed and I became the parent, and he became the child. And the dance began again. I began this project eight years ago when my father’s death left a raw open wound. Somehow I knew that over time the weight of loss would ease, and I would be compelled to revisit...to reassess...and to find connections between that wounded man-child and the solemn little girl who became his lifeline.
As a photographer, I used to chase ‘other people’s’ stories until I realized that the stories I knew best were the ones already inside me, just waiting to be told."
"There is a quality of questing to Iain Stewart’s photography, a reflective, meditative engagement with the world through recording its images. A text accompanying a 1992 photograph (The Traveller) reads: " ... I travelled the world in search of ... something. I knew I would never find it. But it was a nice journey." His photographs mark stages in that nice journey: beginning, middle, and end.
Whether or not it seeks overtly to represent them, photography is always held within, and holds, specific places. As a form that records and represents particular appearances, it refers to a ‘here,’ whether or not that 'here' is its primary signification. But when a path is introduced, the image becomes about ‘not-here,’ too; it becomes resonant with ‘elsewhere,’ the possibility and the promise of passage."
Galina Kurlat was born in Moscow, Russia in 1981 and emigrated to the United States in 1989. She received her Bachelor of Media Arts Degree from Pratt Institute in 2005 and currently lives and works in Brooklyn, NY.
In Kurlat’s work, she explores the intimate relationship between photographer and sitter through large format photography using expired Polaroid film, and the wet collodion process. These photographs are as much about the collaboration with the sitter as they are the resulting images. The slow practice of creating large format photographs, using a medium which allows for almost immediate viewing, invites the sitter to participate in orchestrating the final image.
Her work has been exhibited internationally and is in a number of public and private collections including the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, TX and the Harry Ransom Center, Austin, TX.
"The box stood packed away high on a closet shelf for over twenty-five years. Packed by my mother, it contained the letters, photographs, medals, and important papers that had once belonged to my deceased brother, Gary. It was serendipitous that I came to open the box and read the letters. Not having read them since I was a child, the time period was brought back to life for me. It was as if I could hear my brother speaking – it was as if he were still alive and I was listening to him talk about his life. –"
Jessica Hines, My Brother’s War