Long story made short. Recently I was informed of the passing of someone I knew. Someone I have not seen in many, many years. Still, I have a good memory of who was a friendly and nice old neighbor and going back to those times, mortality e immortality, time and life passing triggered a lot of thoughts, feelings and questions, which it ended outputting themselves again in the three following pictures being added to my series "Preserved".
(click on the image to enlarge)
"Untitled" (from the series "Preserved")
© Flavio Martín Morante_2012 -Inside b&w photographs taken by my Dad.
Birthday party some many years ago. My Grandpa (from my father's side), el Abuelo. The memory of the man, his stamp and his persona. I do not recall having a picture of my dad, my grandpa and I on the same frame, however, in these picture we have managed to be the three somehow together at the same moment. Triangle composition if there is one. Me and my Grandpa making one side, and my Dad behind the camera being the invisible vertex. My dad now reaching the age my Grandpa had around that time, and me reaching the age my dad had when he took the picture. Are repetition and circle the same?. My Dad showing some of the personality keys I remember from his father and me showing every year how I look more like my own old man and not only physically. Interesting. My Dad taking pictures to preserve memories and me taking pictures to remember. The same and not the same. Ambiguity. Today there won't be a "little Martin" in sight to hold my picture on the future. No regrets. My idea of immortality someday will be preserved on a jar. That is enough. The image of my Grandpa engraved on me each time I wear a hat similar to the one he used to wear, and my Dad close to me each time I press the shutter. Past and present. Future is another question with not immediate answer.
(click on the image to enlarge)
"Untitled" (from the series "Preserved")
© Flavio Martín Morante_2012 - Inside b&w photographs taken by my Dad.
A place called Olmos close to the capital. A Saturday or a Sunday. Do not remember date but still remember that was a family day. It's all it matters. Grandma went along as many times she did. I own (speaking for myself) a lot to my "Abuela" from our childhood. I say my childhood because is from where I remember her the most. Then, distance. Not only physical but emotional. It took me some years to understand what the loss of someone can mean on your life to understand her and maybe her way of distance herself. Still I try to understand, her and myself. On the meanwhile I remember, I remember my Abuela from my childhood.
(click on the image to enlarge)
"Untitled" (from the series "Preserved")
© Flavio Martín Morante_2012- Inside b&w photographs taken by my Dad.
Through the years I have come across several pictures like the one seen here. A kid offers "mate" (a typical uruguayan infusion) to the monument of the "Charrúas" in the Prado Park in Montevideo. From a kid point of view, the picture is loaded of a sympathetic attitude. From an adult standpoint it shows how much I did not know and how much I do know now. How much is meant to stay the same and how much can change through the years. Innocence lost.
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