Research on memory continues to unfold, but what we do know is that memory is fallible, and shockingly so. Most of our most cherished memories are confabulations, an intricate blend of fragments from our past, images from dreams, movies, books, and even other people’s memories assimilated as our own. This is the fantastic, frustrating, perplexing nature of memory: It is endlessly redefining and refining what we remember. Ask three siblings about a shared experience and you are likely to get three different versions of the event.
Our flawed memory unnerves us. We count on memory to validate reality. As our brains develop, we begin to create an autobiographical first-person narrative that defines who we are. Our identity formation depends on memories strung together into a recognizable story (autobiographical memory). In childhood, remembering positive choices and outcomes enhances a positive sense of self.
When he first began crafting his multimedia works, artist Frank Poor drew inspiration from his childhood home, using old photos as a foundation for his delicate basswood sculptures. Now, the Rhode Islander takes his cues from other buildings he photographs—often abandoned ones, which invite onlookers to wonder about the people who once lived in them. Such was the premise for Locust. “I’m drawn to it somehow,” he says, adding that it reminds him of the Georgia farmhouses he grew up around. For this work, Poor sketched the house’s basic structure, then cut pieces of basswood to build its frame. After gluing the pieces together, Poor hung the resulting sculpture against the photograph, which he’d altered to exclude the building’s framework. “I’m removing the 2D house and replacing it with a 3D version,” he explains. Poor likens the house in the original photo to a cicada shell: The building is an “encasement that has been emptied,” he says. “Life has left it, but it has left its impression.”
House - Gowensville, SC, 2021, basswood, Baltic birch plywood and inkjet print, 96” x 36” x 26”
Windows – Elk Creek, VA, 2024, glass, digital transparencies and wood, 32” x 47” x 2”
House – Meridian, MS, 2020, basswood and inkjet print on rice paper, 16” x 34.75” x 9.5”
He is motivated by nostalgia and his architectural sculptures evoke the concepts of place, time and memory. His work tries to hold in one place what is there and what is gone and missing.
10:25 AM, inkjet : transparency film, 15 x 20 x 15 cm, 2010
This work is based on architectural deconstructions. Like in memories or dreams, every part is reconstructed, leaving an impression of unplanned reality. In some of the work there may be traces of human presence, but they are all empty, or temporarily abandoned. Anything could happen, but nothing does, besides the soundless shifting of elements in a bare, changing and undefined volume. In this way architecture transforms into anarchy of space. You can wander -not hide- in these idle constructions which, in the end, only consist of a rhythm between light and darkness.
11:25 AM, inkjet : transparency film, 29 x 21 x 15 cm, 2011 The transparent photo-objects can be seen as deconstructions. In spite of traces of human presense, what these models have in common is that they are either empty or temporarily abandoned. Like in memories or dreams, the buildings are reconstructed, some details have been emphasised others are dissolving or dissolved. The concepts of interior and exterior become interchangeable. One can look in and around the objects, and then they will transform, depending on the incidence of light or point of view, which results in the appearance, or disappearance of exits, entrances or rooms. Unavoidably you have to approach the buildings closely, but you cannot hide in these idle constructions, which after all in the end, only consist of light and darkness.
My work centers on the notion of what is a home. It is an exploration of that which is most emotive, where is it that we belong, and how can we, in this modern state of upheaval, find our safe place. The paintings query if it is the presence of people that turn a house into a home, and what it says about our community when there are houses left empty. My work centres on the notion of what is a home. It is an exploration of that which is most emotive, where is it that we belong and how can we, in the modern state of upheaval, find our safe place. The paintings query if it is the presence of people that make a house a home, and what is says about our community when building are left empty. I utilise a clean, hard edge technique. Currently I am incorporating three dimensional elements into my work, physically building the scene behind stretched canvas and treating it then as a traditional painting. It is an experimental look at the spaces we occupy.
Kitchen Living, Acrylic on canvas, 2023, 20cm x 20cm.
Wardrobe, Acrylic on canvas, 2023, 20cm x 20cm.
In his installations and mixed-media works, Christian Boltanski uses photographs and found objects to question memory and individuality. An awareness of mortality, and of the general tenuousness of human existence, haunts his work. According to the artist, while individual memories might prove to be fragile, they are still filled with truthful yet unique values, making it the reason why he has often been choosing daily items as main creative elements to construct an archive of humanity
Christian Boltanski, Chance-The Wheel of Fortune, Installation View “Storage Memory”, Power Station of Art- Shanghai, 2018, Courtesy Power Station of Art
Christian Boltanski, Humains, Installation View “Storage Memory”, Power Station of Art- Shanghai, 2018, Courtesy Power Station of Art
Christian Boltanski, Personnes, Installation View “Storage Memory”, Power Station of Art- Shanghai, 2018, Courtesy Power Station of Art
In French, the word “Personnes” has dual meanings, referring to either “persons” or “nobody”. Here, the artist uses this double-edged word, which denotes presence but literally contains absence, to emphasise the inescapability of death and how chance watches over the destiny of each.
In his work, Halmans often explores the domestic world and sees a home as a place where life fluctuates between a public and a private sphere. Halmans examines how we as humans live in these two different areas. One could call the artist a 'house expert': he is an accomplished carpenter, plumber and bricklayer and therefore knows everything about houses. Within his work, however, houses or parts of them assume a kind of dream shape. In this respect, his series of "architectural vacuum cleaners" reflects his vision well.
"Forgetting is alarming," he says, "everything has been in vain, meaningless, if you were content with forgetting."
Basement II, 2014.
Even more Rooms for Reading, 2014.
Some New Rooms, 2021.
Not Under My Roof, 2009, Framed Photograph, 100.5 x 106.5 cm; 82.5 x 88.2cm.
Floor of entire farmhouse from Millmerran Queensland, wood, linoleum, 11 x 12 meters,
Reframing the Past (1984-1994) could also be titled Re-Reading the Family Album. From 1984 to 1994, Sligh’s work centred on a re-investigation and re-evaluation of her family’s photo album. Growing up in the blue collar, black neighbourhood of Halls Hill in Arlington, Virginia in the 1950’s, keeping up the family album was something the artist took great pride in. Not realizing that her early family album project was created through the lens of a stereotypical white American family, she saw the project as making a record of positive images of her black family.
She Sucked Her Thumb, 1989, cyanotype, 27.5 × 21.5 cm (10 13/16 × 8 7/16 in.)
Ana Vieira’s work is deeply concerned with the body, space, and the ways in which art is sanctified and received. Her artistic career spans multiple disciplines, including theatre, painting, sculpture, photography, sound, environment, and installation. This breadth reflects her poetic approach to art, which continually explores the boundaries of different media.
Her exhibitions, starting in 1968, highlight the themes of her work through their titles, such as Imagens Ausentes (Absent Images) and Ambiente (Milieu). These exhibitions examine dichotomies like public/private, presence/absence, interior/exterior, and transparency/opacity. For example, in one installation, a dining room scene is set up with plates, cutlery, and glasses, but the viewers cannot see it. They hear sounds from the space, but are kept at a distance by a mesh, reinforcing the separation between the public and the private.
Vieira's scenography often features elements like cut-out silhouettes, projections, hidden objects, and revealed rooms. These works extend beyond galleries into public spaces and even the natural landscapes of the Azores, her hometown. As her works expand in scale, they invite the viewer to physically engage with and inhabit the spaces, making the viewer’s body a part of the art experience.
DINING ROOM, ENVIRONMENT (1971), WOMEN HOUSE EXHIBITION, MONNAIE DE PARIS, FRANCE . 2017/2018
MILO'S VENUS, ENVIRONMENT (1972)
WINDOWS . 1978
“psychological relationships between human beings and the objects that we live with and produce.”
Thrum The MAC, Belfast, 2022 Dyed canvas, steel, rust, steel wire, linen thread, embroidered rust stained linen fabric, engine grease, machined aluminium.