My family has always been the catalyst for my creativity. My passions emerged from the way I grew up in community with this cavalcade of fascinating characters. One of those exceptional eccentrics was my uncle, Johnny – a talented musician and sort of puckish vagabond. He was living in San Bernardino, working as an entertainer at kids’ parties, when he was killed in 1991. I was eight years old.
Johnny was a source of joy in my early life. He would always sing with me and to me, but I can no longer remember his voice. He adored me and held me and played with me, but I cannot remember what his face looked like looking at me. Sometimes I will see a shadow in my periphery and think it’s him leaning casually against a wall, but when I look closer he’s gone. So he has remained a constant presence and influence into adulthood.
This body of work is largely a media study. I wanted to explore ideas of making the invisible visible, and choosing what to reveal and what to conceal. When I was little my dad showed me how two linear-polarized filters could be overlapped perpendicularly to create an opaque barrier, and reflecting on that inspired me to think about ways to use polarized light to create images. This year, I spent months learning the properties of cross-polarized light and the way it can be manipulated by optical isomers to not just create grayscale gradients but to reveal vibrant colors.
This became the inspiration for the portrait of Johnny, who exists in my memory as both a pale figment and brilliant prismatic aurora. Viewed without a filter, Klem is a gray patchwork of film sandwiched between two pieces of plexiglass and encased in packing tape. Through a second filter, the optically active properties of the cellophane tape reveal a form. In the same way Johnny could elevate a quotidian event through impromptu song, I seek to elevate this mundane material into something majestic.
One of the themes that has come up particularly in this work is the idea of forgiveness. It is particularly relevant that I am making this piece right now, because Johnny died at the age of 39, and that is my age right now. This is compounded by the fact that this work will debut on the same day that I am called to provide a victim statement at the parole hearing for Johnny’s murderer.
My life’s mission has been shaped by his brutal death and its aftermath. Our carceral system is a failure, because it neither prevents these tragedies from occurring nor provides restitution to the parties involved. It is purely punitive, and utterly ineffective in its supposed purpose of public safety. I instead am dedicated to exposing and dismantling the systems of oppression that breed violence, seeking to divert the disenfranchised away from desperate circumstances. In this way, I hope to protect other families from the pain my family endured.
Perhaps that’s my Catholic guilt: the notion that if you are not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem (though I rationally understand that I can be actively fixing a problem and still be complicit in it). I have a pained relationship with the Church, never fully immersed in it but never fully free of its influence. I admire the historical, not-white Jesus for his activism and pacifist response to the inequities of his time. I identify with his call to forgive and further ground myself in vulnerability, gradually learning to disassemble the armor forged by my eight-year-old self. It’s a slow process.
I don’t have the authority to forgive Johnny’s killer for what he did to my uncle – the only person who could do that is dead. I don’t know if I can forgive him for what he did to me, or my family. But if I could forgive him, I could forgive anyone, and that is just what I aim to do in As Crimson.
“Come now and let us reason together,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are as scarlet, they will be white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they will be like wool.”
(Isaiah 1:18)
In a send-up of the confessional booth, a contemporized aesthetic condenses the stodgy stall into a kiosk with a simple interface, ditching the priest to streamline the confession process. Using the properties of polarized light, translucent LCD monitors display a series of corrupted photo manipulations on the outward-facing side of the kiosk while maintaining the confidentiality of the confessor’s message on the back. In the spirit of anticapitalism, there are no cookies, breadcrumbs, or key loggers… the confession disappears with the press of a button, remaining between the user and whatever god they pray to, and absolution is secured.
Have you examined your conscience lately? Do you feel remorse for your actions? Guilt for your inaction? How about feeling bad just for being alive? We can help! You are what we call a "sinner." But don't worry: everybody is! After all, our first sin is existing at all. If being a sinner is getting you down, you may want to try Confession, a simple and painless method of removing stubborn feelings of blame, shame, regret, liability, or failure. But don't take our word for it - try it yourself! Type your most infamous faults and transgressions into the box at the right to receive your Penance. With zero accountability, absolution is guaranteed! This free service is offered by sinners, for sinners. We understand that forgiveness can be hard to come by, and we want to help. That's why these ethical pardons are not saved, key-logged, or tracked in any way. Just press ENTER and your indiscretions will be delivered straight to the deity of your choice.* Go ahead - type away to see if Confession is right for you! You'll be glad* you tried it. * I make no promises or guarantees that any goddess, god, demigod, daemon, spirit, idol, omnipotent power, almighty creator, universal life force or other divine being will hold you as harmless as I do. Please consult the texts that came with your religion for specific rules. Civil penalties may apply. This service is provided at-will and as-is. I have already released myself of any sense of responsibility or contrition that may arise with your consequences. Use at your own risk.
This piece is a collaboration with Raul Habib, who created the digital imagery, and pianist Isabella Cao. The programming was greatly assisted by Antoinette LaFarge and Brian Bowman, and the kiosk constructed in cooperation with Aidan McDonald, Jason Burns, and Sam Scharf.
