The Preservation Agreement

Inkjet print, fabric print

My grandfather was an amateur photographer and a conservation architect. Through his photographs, I came to understand that preservation is not merely a physical act but also an  attitude,a decision about what to hold onto and what to let go.

Can we explore the definition of conservation through the medium of photography? Can we use photography to safeguard our future?? Is documenting our reality a form of preservation within itself? And if so, what exactly does it preserve?

I photograph towns that were originally pre-state agricultural colonies and have since become cities and suburbs. I hold on to the most basic, almost childlike shape of a house: a rectangle,  triangle, and a tree beside them. Photography records and confronts points of tension between the old and the new. To me, these houses have become symbols holding within them a lost ideology. 

I see a rift between the house's past identity, a rural atmosphere, a small dairy farm, and what it represents now, where the red-tiled roof has become an upscale status symbol.

My work isn't meant to inspire nostalgia or to romanticize the past but instead raises questions and contemplates about the future.

Today, when my own future feels uncertain, I use photography to search for a home that represents stability and safety. Though I have never lived in a house with a red-tiled roof, I find myself longing for an experience I never had, a desire to adopt a childlike perspective that sees the house as a safe space.Yet in some of the images, the house seems almost unreachable, hidden behind dense vegetation, as if reality itself prevents me from getting to it.