Andrew Testa

a stone, stones

a bone, bones

a stick, sticks

a glass, glass

a crab, crabs

a shell, shells

a plate, plates

a plant, plants

a weed, weeds

and a feather, feathers

etc.

Two accordion books sit upon a table, both unfolded, displaying multiple pages. One book, Unfolded/Refolded Vol. 1, displays photographs from my collection (both found and family images). They appear to have order. One page to the next is an ongoing index of images—each image existing as a portal to another time and place. The second book, Unfolded/Refolded Vol. 2, mirrors Vol. 1, but exhibits the verso of the images. Looking through them I see various notations left to the present, along with pieces of tape, traces of dirt, tears, some images, etc. Initially, the verso images call attention to the object-ness of the photograph and I find myself drifting into the accumulated markings, both written and circumstantial. If I so choose, I can begin to find the verso for each front to glean more from the photograph, experiencing it as both portal and object. But instead, I begin to unfold each page more playfully, cooperating with and challenging the book’s structure. A page in the front becomes paired with an image in the back. I manipulate and introduce new relationships. I pause and drift into one image, then two, then a third, creating a fictitious sense of wholeness from the fragmented images within my collection.


Edited excerpt from, A Constellation of Sorts: Pause, Glean, Repeat, Drift, Wait

Using Format