melissa shook
Self Portraits (72-73)
About Self Portraits
A series of self portraits from 1972-73, 1992-93, 2002-03, and 2008-09
Self-Portraits, 1972-73
Curious about the problem of identity, I decided to photograph myself every day for a year. I was interested in when I would forget. The obsession with forgetting has been central. Having forgotten my mother, what she looked like, what she was like, how she treated me before she died when I was twelve, is still an abiding concern, though I have a much stronger sense of self now. But in 1972, not remembering meant, to some extent, not having existed, having to create a self without a foundation and trying to raise a daughter without remembering having been a child.
Using the Rolei on a tri-pod, I started, changing the focus each month. It was important to let my unconscious, rather than my intellect, dictate the progression. At one point, I realized that if anyone got close to me, I wanted to cover my face, so the March images alternated between close-ups of the body and the face. In the final set, I printed a pale gray square to represent the days that I forgot to take pictures. When I started, I never imagined that these images would be seen, much less published or exhibited, but because a portfolio of my work was to be published in the Camera 35 Annual, I became self-conscious and ended the project in August, passing it over to Krissy. She was quite aware of what she wanted, when the self-time would go off and carefully chose whether to put nickels on her eyelids or wiggle her head.
All of the photographs were shown at Foto Gallery run by Alex Coleman and Adal Maldonado. I didn’t include text, no explanation of my long struggle with lost memory and fragmented identity. At that time photographers, including Lee Friedlander and Mike Mandel, were beginning to concentrate on self-portraits, but I think that only one other German woman had done an extensive daily series. If I remember correctly, Shelly Rice, an influential critic, reviewed my show, writing that she considered that my images were co-opted by the male vision of the woman posing against the wall. In many ways she was right. The images are too traditional. But when I look at them, I see a young woman, trapped in a body too attractive for her to manage, much less enjoy, who was battling depression and struggling like the devil not to reveal the pain she was in. I was an unmarried mother, sole supporter of her daughter, with no skills other than typing and short hand. Within a year, I would learn that I could teach photography.
It’s nice to see Will Faller, Nathan Whiting and Nancy Phillips in the December images. Will was the most remarkable friend and mentor. His gracious tutoring allowed me to learn to print and his enthusiasm helped me believe in my images. Nancy was responsible for my finding that large apartment on 5th Street between Avenues A and B. After work, after picking up Krissy from daycare, we would stop at her place since she had a TV and I could watch a bit of Star Trek. I was enamored of Mr. Spock. Nathan, a poet, appears in his new persona as a dancer in “Nathan and New York,” one of the short videos.
The ’72,’73 series, so important to me at the time partly because John Szarkowsi bought a number of them that were shown at the Museum of Modern Art, has become one segment of work about change and aging. This selection of images was made from very dusty slides. I still have the vintage prints on that lovely fiber paper, Portrega Rapid.