LIKE TREES

My Nai-nai died in a nice retirement home during the pandemic. Someone who I had only just started to know was gone.  In her last week, every day I spent two hours in a zoom meeting with Nainai and a collection of her family, friends, and admirers. During this time, the enormity of grief would become apparent as we sang songs, interrupted each other, muted our microphones, and occasionally have long awkward silences  stretching across all oceans. After her passing, a strange online burial, and a beautiful online memorial service - I found myself at a loss of how to grieve. Could this virtual space possibly be the only option we have now to communicate the depths of our hearts, the touch of our hands? In hopes of purging the unknown emotions within me, I began to produce work.  

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The materials used to produce "Like Trees" span from about three years to the present day. In retrospect, this process was the process of grieving. I wanted create a portrait of her that showed the duality she was to me - an impossible mix of strength and grit with the delicacy of springtime and secrets.  I revisited the various recordings I have of her and the life that surrounded her and created soundscapes to encapsulate different aspects of her. 

I soon was confronted with the value of portraiture.  We think of portrait as silent and still- whereas Nai-nai and her legacy are not. Her story moves the grace of wind through a tree.

I realized that one still cannot retain the magnitude of this woman, of any woman, of anything. The complete piece was a series of six video portraits with an artist note to accompany. 

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Standing with my face unseen, wearing her clothes, hearing the voices of her story and the natural symbols of what she is - one can almost think that I am her. And they would be right.