I’m interested in portraits as relics printed on paper, a material that undoubtedly outlasts the life and reputation of the subject. The glossy surface, the dot pattern, and the way bound pages curve and buckle are real and tactile. These faces, bound in books, hidden on shelves, once held an audience. But the shine of celebrity dims faster than the gleam of the paper surface. When I leave the “who” behind, I can work with the pages as material. And as I cast shadows over the image or hide it in the background, its beauty becomes fragile, far more delicate than the commanding star on display. My unorthodox handling enhances the care with which the studio directed the original portrait, once so vital, now so distant. To me, this is nostalgia as a contemporary experience.

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