Made in collaboration with writer, Hannah Schneider, Kate Stone’s “How We End” chronicles the romantic and sexual history of an unnamed and unreliable narrator. Each story details the moments in which the narrator realizes a relationship is over. The images are a visual representation of where that moment took place. Kate Stone collages public imagery, sourced from the Internet, with private, intimate narratives to create scenes that are just as distorted and fragmented as the stories themselves. Break-ups are nothing if not one-sided, skewed. The book is about intimacy and heartbreak, but it is also about the way we communicate these things and the way truth deteriorates every time we tell a story. The relationship between the text and images is representative of the collaboration and friendship between writer and artist. There is an openness and a desire to communicate, but also a disconnect. Something is lost in translation, always.
By combining prints in “How We End” with life-size re-stagings of the paper sets, Rubber Factory hopes to create an environment which revolves around degrees of representation within the photographic medium. Just as “How We End” invites the viewer to enter a psychologically charged and intimate space, we intend to combine real objects with paper cutouts, adhesive vinyl pieces and ultimately photographic prints in order to create an off the wall experience which battles the intuitive flatness of the photograph.
Also on view at PHOTOFAIRS Insights
By placing darkroom trays overnight to collect puddles from clouds, Moira dips silver papers that are then exposed on an overcast day until the fog is either absorbed by the paper or evaporated back into the atmosphere. The results are traces of automated nature, of collecting and letting go, of natural breath, of process and of intervention, and participation and engagement with the landscape.
Representing sites of constant, relentless conflicts between North American lands and oceans, Alex creates portraits of seemingly extraterrastrial landscapes. By printing the works on archival paper and soaking them in the water of the ocean sites specific to the photographs, the warped and wrinkled lines on the paper begin to echo the creases in the landsacapes, as both become interchangeable representations of time, space, and materiality.
Hanging from ceilings, these fabric photographs, printed on translucent silk, appear to be free-floating, giving them a sculptural and ghostly presence. The entire space becomes part of the image, as the transparency of the silks allow them to transform depending on what or who can be seen through them.