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https://www.facebook.com/events/1665119547103722/

June 16th - 29th

Tricia & Zack each created a project unknown to one another. They explored the latent details of their respective upbringings. Tricia looked at the constantly shifting relationships of her five-member family. Zack re-examined the resonating effects of his parents' divorce. The joint exhibition acts as a conversation about the origin of our worldly perceptions.
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Through self-exploration rooted in their familial structures, both Tricia and Zack have produced two separate bodies of work entirely independent of and unknown to one another.

We watch a movie, my brothers and I squeezed on the same couch, me in the middle with the popcorn. Mom and Dad are in their room, they want to have time for themselves I guess, because the door is closed. I peek my head through the door and see the boxes of old photos that once were closed and tied with ribbon, now wide open. I can’t hear much, but I think I hear them saying that blood is blood. I don’t know what that means.

The arguing is getting more and more heated, then the voices became muffled as if exerting tremendous effort. I’m laying in bed, my head ringing, reminding me to be ready to run. The blanket is held over my clothed body, my hands are red and white. What do I need? What is absolutely necessary? I don’t want you to leave here without me.

Each project arose from two different situations: One, a long lasting marriage. Parents of the same culture, both landed immigrants. Three children. The other, a short marriage. Divorce. An only child between two shifting households. Each parent in different relationships. Each line item producing certain connotations, each narrative assumed. By rooting through residual feelings and attempting to gain understanding with a matured intellect, both Tricia and Zack were able to uncover the slow burning sublimity of family life: the obscurity of physical and mental distance, estrangement & intimacy between members, and the means with which the definition of unity can become abstracted.

At dinnertime we all sit at the table. Mom’s made salad and roast beef and mashed potatoes. She usually talks the most, but today my brother is telling a story about his friends. He accidentally lets out a secret that I haven’t heard before. I don’t think anyone else notices but then I look at my parents, and they are staring at him like they don’t even know him. We all stare blankly back at my parents. They look strange and I think they’re from a different planet.

The house on James Street exists on the fringes of my memory, but I remember nothing negative about it. He and I did have to share a bed, I remember that. Years later, he apologized in a voice that made me understand how much pain he was in at the time. I wasn’t angry, I was 5 – barely even aware of the situation. “It’s okay, Dad. You were doing the best you could and that’s all I can ask for.”

The name of the show serves to strip away any esoteric veneer surrounding a title, to admit that the photos are about each respective photographer exploring their respective familial structures. They didn’t visit other families, they visited their own; they re-explored what they know intimately. By putting their interpretations together, they’re able to compare the similarities and differences between each series, and in turn, the way each upbringing formed both their personalities and their means of interpreting their environments.

Mom gives me a bath. I’m playing with my toys in the tub when my brothers burst in and start squirting me with water guns, laughing loudly. Mom gets angry with them and tells them they aren’t allowed to come in the bathroom when I’m having a bath anymore. They retreat, defeated. I’ve won the bathroom

We left the bar because our discussion was getting him worked up, so we started walking. We didn’t walk far. We cut into an alleyway. I was walking just behind him and it started snowing heavily. He leaned against the building, eyes swelling and said, “I know I saved you from drowning, but you’ve saved my life more times that I can count. You’re like a brother to me. I love you.”
 




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