On remembrance, photography, archiving and family.
Like clockwork, every time I am back home, I venture into my dad’s office and forage through the numerous boxes to find the collection of photos (at least 1,500+ photos) that my family has accumulated over the years. A prolonged attempt to organize, understand and curate our family history through images. A project that never seems to end because every image begets a new story.
As a photographer, the most treasured item that I could ever lay my hands on are the images that we’ve collected for over 5 decades. Images that transcend time, images that tell the stories of mom, dad and loved ones as they embarked on seeing and experiencing the world. Seeing my parents growing up through images, their life travels, their independence, their worlds before and after they came together to create the family that I love so much. Images of their friends, sweet messages inscribed on the back of photos, historical moments, acts to freeze time and remember each other in the most tender ways. Aunties, uncles, grandparents, cousins, neighbours, guests, visitors, those who are with us, those who are no longer with us. Those who I have heard so much about but have never had the honour to meet.
Polaroids, passport photos, studio photos, birthdays, Eid celebrations, getting ready for school, birthdays, beach days, the list goes on. Everything was important and no moment went unnoticed. What I appreciate most when looking through our collection is how the most mundane moments were captured, whether the subjects were ready or not. Looking through these photos always leads me down the path of thinking about identity, photography, and the preservation of family history and in retrospect, documenting and photography has always been a deep part of our family practice. My Dad had what he calls a ‘black and white’ camera and although he does not call himself a photographer, it’s a comforting reminder that the act of photography may simply be matter of seeing and being present in that moment.
I almost get overwhelmed trying to figure out how we’re going to keep and manage all these images. How does one curate all these images? Part of me wants to bring these images back with me to my second home, so I can dive into getting them archived properly, but a quick conversation with my dad made me realize that the essence of documenting and archiving is understanding the world in which these images where taken. And for that, this will have to be a lifelong project that we complete together.
