Sometimes we see a co-worker in a restaurant or while shopping and the disconnect is startling: a familiar face in a new context. We have trouble recalling the person’s name, even though we talk often at work, sharing details of our lives like food allergies or favorite flowers. The private and the public becomes confused. It’s disconcerting.
I took a picture of an antique store display, trying to capture the way the sun was burning through the window, throwing both spotlight and shadow into the room. Even though the furniture, arranged like a cluttered bedroom, was placed in front of the window to be fully exposed to the public, it still made me feel a bit like a voyeur.
I set the aperture and shutter speed, snapped the picture, and forgot to advance the film on my Lubitel.
I developed and scanned the film, wondering what would come of my picture. What came out of the camera instead was a merging of images. The lamp is parked in front of the Beetle, and the armoire is on the sidewalk. The image of a tree is mingled with a brooch sitting on a table. A mirrored sky just serves to make the mirror look transparent, like a phantom.
The illusion of privacy was shattered, almost as if it mocked my attempt to capture it.